I had booked my flight back to NYC from San Diego for the 29th, leaving me about a day before my next flight out to Prague. JetBlue decided that it would teach me a lesson on cutting things too close, so it canceled my flight back to New York, concealing its intentions with some lame excuse about snow or whatever.
Josh had to reroute me. In order to make it back in time, I would have to take a flight out to Allentown, PA with a different airline and have Josh rent a car to pick me up. Between San Diego and Allentown (why no, it is not the same Allentown that Billy Joel sung about in 1998, but it is the Allentown home of the 68th largest radio market in the USA!)--whatever, more like Allenhamlet--was a connection in Charlotte, NC... the strangest place on earth. From what I was able to assess during my layover, Charlotte carries two types of men: hot farm boys (well, who knows if they are actual farmers... they look like farmers because they all look like Chris Klein and didn't he play a farm boy on 2000's Here on Earth?) and LARPers.
Eventually, I made it back to New York in time and flew off to Prague.
Prague was great. However, in Zurich I was crowned King of Three Kings Day because I found a plastic king in my share of the Three Kings bread... and that was pretty awesome. I got to wear the paper crown and rule for the rest of the day (1.5 hours). With that taste of power still lingering on my improperly scraped tongue the next day, I decided that when I grow up I am going to become dictator. I will rule with an iron fist.
Okay, well, here is a picture of me with a swan:
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