When I woke up, I knew that my day would be full of chaos and drama but I did not know how it’d manifest itself. I just knew I had to wake up early to switch apartments before Carla and I started the day. I didn’t have to worry about wasting money texting the group anymore because as quickly as they left me hanging they were headed back home.
When I woke up the next day, I did not want to move. I never want to move when I have an excursion the next morning. I got up though, barely. I called to wake Carla up and then laid there in silence before getting up to shower. Today we were going on this Santeria Airbnb experience before Carla left Havana to go on a solo adventure. I didn’t want her to go because I was not getting any responses from the group still but I wasn’t going to keep her from her fun. I had her for the time that mattered to me and I had my book and nice balcony to fall back on.
When I was heading to the airport, I left with hope and excitement that I would have a good time with a nice group of people but all good intentions die at some point right?
I am sorry guys for this delayed blog! I have been working 60-80 hour weeks and between time I had to switch hosts and fuss and fight trying to get the coding right. It’s been stressful to say the least but I’m getting closer to Belize and I had to get this out or I’d feel bad about myself. Seriously!
Picture it. San Francisco. Last week. Landing in a rush to see what the city has to offer and find the one thing that’s always dangling in front of me but I can never grasp. I don’t even know what it is but I know that it’s missing and leaves a gaping throbbing hole in my day to day life. The city is like any other city. Large, beautiful and full of history but a whirlwind of hills that left me disappointed in search of nothing but everything at the same time.
Perverts, hundreds of panty sniffing perverts, New York was filled with them. I’m sure of it. Sasquatch men clutching knives and chemical covered rags ready to take my panties and inhale their scent into their systems like fiends. This was my dream. Not to be raped, murdered or killed but the adrenaline rush of new experiences, new beginnings. I was going to the city where dreams came true and sometimes people died from the desperation of it. The melting pot.
I removed my headphones from one of my ears and began to play with my mother, British accent mimicking old movies. “Would you like a spot of tea? Would you like a spot of tea as this plane goes down? Hmm Mum?” I received a slap upside the head. I grazed fingers through my red mane. Shocked but not shocked. After five years, speaking about a plane going down was definitely not the thing to do. Even if 9/11 never happened, she would have slapped me for annoying her while she tried to find herself drifting into the arms of the Sandman.