I would like to take this opportunity to thank British Airways for completely fucking up our trip.
After our signing yesterday we had a bit of time to go out to the strip mall across this big honking field to buy some more clothes to get us through the weekend. With the walking at the show, slogging through aisle after aisle in store after store, stressing over what size was what, trying to communicate what should be simple things to staff, and then dragging ourselves back across the field to the hotel only to learn we had to go back to get my phone left behind at the Nokia store after buying a charger, there was no energy left for the after-show party. I was in a lot of pain, hip, back and feet, and just drained of strength.
And today I get to hear how wonderful that party was, taking place in the catacombs of a centuries old castle. Apparently there was a brilliant buffet, great music, some well known Japanese artists with many lovely stories. Which ones? I have no idea BECAUSE I WASN'T THERE!
I was in our hotel, lying in pain, eating Pringles.
Fuck you British Airways. Fuck you for not returning e-mails, fuck you for calling after 5 days of nothing just to tell us my bag wasn't at Franfurt.
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.