I celebrated New Year at 37 degrees west, 37,000 feet in the air. They served champaigne. After a mad rush out the door on the 30th, my mom and I got on the flight to DC where we spent some time with our lovely relatives, the Blisks. The next day, I was on an airplane, winging my way across the atlantic. It's been awhile since I've been on a 15-hour flight, but they haven't changed much - you sleep a little and poorly, your bum hurts from sitting for so long, and you watch a bunch of movies, in my case Bourne Ultimatum and Stardust. The best part of the flight was the aforementioned New Year's celebration, which will go down as the most unique one I've had yet. Anyway, I have arrived safely and soundly
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