When I was a Sophomore in college, my then boyfriend broke up with me two days before Valentines day. My friends, being the absolute angels that they are, took me out and got me hammered, and I woke up the next morning with an email from US Airways informing me that I needed to be at the airport for a flight to Boston in 45 minutes. My "angelic" friends had convinced me come with them to a Valentine's Day party at Harvard fraternity, and let me tell you– it was the best, fastest way I have ever gotten over someone.
My trip to Europe came about sorrrrrrt of the same way.
My two best friends, whom I met studying abroad in Denmark (a trip I documented via this blog, which probably prevented me from getting a job or two after college...), planned a reunion trip over memorial day weekend that would take them back to Copenhagen as well as to London.
They booked everything in October, when I had no idea where my life would be come May 21. But then, a week before their trip, I found myself conveniently unemployed and unattached (and, ok, a little drunk on chardonnay) and bought a last minute flight that I couldn't afford.
A week later, I was on my way back to Europe.
My trip to Europe came about sorrrrrrt of the same way.
My two best friends, whom I met studying abroad in Denmark (a trip I documented via this blog, which probably prevented me from getting a job or two after college...), planned a reunion trip over memorial day weekend that would take them back to Copenhagen as well as to London.
They booked everything in October, when I had no idea where my life would be come May 21. But then, a week before their trip, I found myself conveniently unemployed and unattached (and, ok, a little drunk on chardonnay) and bought a last minute flight that I couldn't afford.
A week later, I was on my way back to Europe.
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| The only picture we've ever taken that all three of us like. |
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