I now have a new top 10 Christmas memory (I’d say favorite, but that seems premature): walking around with my partner, in the snow, at the Christmas market here in Luxembourg City Center. I know I tend towards cynical sarcasm at times, but here I am being utterly sincere. It is too beautiful for words. So here are the photos instead:
My flight across the Atlantic was a new experience for me. I had only ever flown domestically up until then, and those flights were only ever 4-5 hours at most. Furthermore, in my old age, I have come to dislike flying. It never bothered me until fairly recently; in high school, I won a trip to Washington D.C. in an essay contest, and was absolutely giddy with excitement as I boarded that Delta flight. In college, one of my fraternity brothers had his own plane–a scary single engine two-seater with nothing but a big gear stick for a flight instrument. I willingly got into that Buddy Holly plane and marveled at my college campus far below. Now, instead of being giddy with excitement, I am mainly thinking about how quickly the flames will engulf me as the aircraft I’m in drops out of the sky at 500 miles per hour.
Luckily, they make this drug called Klonopin that has the power to make anyone giddy–even if they’re falling out of the sky at 500 miles per hour. So I was set.