It’s not been that long, but two weeks feels long enough. I’m sitting in my living room, typing this while having a cup of coffee. I don’t feel like the lovebaby of Carrie Bradshaw and a diplomat anymore, I feel like myself again (including a massive jet-lag).
In my last entry I’ve updated you on the events during the conference and the fact that we had received several awards for our performance during the conference. Since then, a lot has happened and almost nothing has happened at the same time. We had ended our trip at the famous Delegate Dance. From what I had heard of the stories, it was going to be a boring night with bad music. Turns out the stories were very, very wrong.
The Delegate Dance was held in Terminal 5, which is a New York City music venue in Hell’s Kitchen (what up Daredevil fans!), located at 610 West 56th Street, west of 11th Avenue. It’s a cool venue and has that typical old-warehouse-turned-into-party-venue feeling. Beer was the same price as mixed liquor, so you can guess what yours truly was drinking. And the rooftop was open for those who smoke (still not cool, but rooftops are cool though). I could enjoy my cigarette and my drink while dreaming off to the skyline of the city that never sleeps. It was truly magical.
The days after were not so magical, starting with a bit of a hangover, packing the last bits of my suitcase and checking out of the hotel: it was time to head back to home. Our whole group was basically hungover so it was nice that we could share the pain of our headaches combined with the sadness of leaving New York and the excitement of going back home. The flight to Amsterdam went well and nothing particular happened. The only thing I would regret later, in hindsight, is that I had drunk alcohol the night before and couldn’t fall asleep during the flight.
On Schiphol I was welcomed by my father and my best friend and they drove me back home. I was determined not to sleep that day so I could sleep better at night. A couple of hours later I’d lost that battle, and went for an hour long nap (which was divine, I can tell you that). That night, I had no problem to fall asleep as well.
Now I’m sitting here, still feeling jet-lagged. Waking up, I feel exhausted and broken. But the good times are over: I’ll have an exam coming up in four days and tomorrow I’ll have to wake up at 7 am because of a tutorial group at 9 am. Real life starts again. Am I happy about that? No. Do I miss New York? Yes. Can I do something about that? Unfortunately not. I am very happy and grateful that I was able to spend the last two weeks in DC & NYC with 17 of the most lovely people ever. And perhaps I will see those cities again. But for now, dear reader, my journey ends here. Thank you for keeping tabs on me. Maybe, just maybe, we will see each other again.
Much love, Rocher.
P.S. Please enjoy my aftermovie: