Stayed up all night Tuesday, since I had an early flight Wednesday. We got in from the clubs at like 3:30, I finished packing and we called the taxi at like 5-something.

Plane to Sofia was late. Delayed due to a technical difficulty. They almost took us off after we boarded, then decided that maybe we could stay on after all, and finally took off. 

London was Hotter than the Depths of Hades, I got searched by the security before boarding, and the plane was delayed on the damned runway. Without air conditioning. Actually felt sick from the heat. Vaguely nauseous the entire time, it was saved only by my utterly charming seat-neighbor. 

We got to Minneapolis an hour late. I had 20 minutes to get to my next flight - through customs and across the airport. Said a hurried goodbye to my seat-neighbor/new friend, and dashed off. Delayed by customs. Made it to my gate in the nick of time, only to find that my plane had not yet materialized. Called my parents, who were already at KCI waiting. 

At last, another plane filled in for ours, and they kind of combined flights or something, and we boarded. I was by this time completely nauseous and exhausted from running on about an hour's sleep (combined from the catnaps I'd managed on my flights from Sofia and London). 

In KCI, my luggage failed to materialize. It had been mis-tagged to Minneapolis only. The luggage-finding lady was very sweet though, and it was a good thing because I was ready to cry and fall onto floor and kick and sob, and the only thing that saved me was the fact that I was so nauseous that falling to the floor was simply too much motion for me to contemplate. 

We stopped in a gas station and Mom grabbed some 7-up and Pepto for me, as well as some plastic bags in case of actual car sickness. This caused the guys at the register to stare at me. I decided I hated them all and they would die glittery deaths if I could arrange it. 

We finally got home at like 10:30, and I fell immediately into bed and did not move until 11:00 am this morning when my luggage appeared at the door along with a confused airline delivery-person, who was worried about the fact that the sign outside has my stepdad's last name and not mine. Although his interpretation of the name, thanks to the peeling paint, was vastly hilarious. 

I thanked him very much and would have thanked him more, but my eyes were bleary, my hair was tangled, I still hadn't showered, and my brain was sludge. He probably thought I'd been having sex. I wish I'd been having sex... although I'd have been more alert if I had been. 

But this afternoon Jason called and I went to the pool with him. It was a pretty good cure for the jetlag, I think. Relaxing, but kept me awake. It was good because he knows all the gossip and I got caught up with the town. But after being in Bulgaria, this place seems nearly palacial. 

I wonder how many weeks of country clubbing before I totally lose focus and return to Snob Hill?

Lesson 1: Eurotrip summed it up- "Holy Mother of God... Eastern Europe."

Lesson 2: The sidewalks are out to kill you.

Lesson 3: So are the taxi drivers.

Lesson 4: Signs mean nothing.

Lesson 5: If they did mean anything, it wouldn't matter since the gypsies stole them all anyway.

Lesson 6: Going out for drinks is an art form.

Lesson 7: So is getting dressed. And you'll never look 1/10 as awesome as the Bulgarian girls. Ever.

Lesson 8: Trilingual is the way to be.

Lesson 9: There really is no escaping MTV, Tina Turner, 50 Cent, or Wayne Newton.

Lesson 10: The strangers who end up sharing your table could be great friends by the end of the evening.

Also, I would love to have a holiday to the Black Sea every summer. Varna, or the smaller villages, it's all so beautiful. We spend a few days in Obzur, this smaller town on the sea, with several bars and clubs, and amazing beaches. You can rent a room in one of the house-hotels right along the beach for about 15-50 leva a night ($8- $40).

I had a perfect date with a waiter from the restaurant in Obzur. We met up for drinks after his shift ended, and I have his email. Moonlit beach, amazing boy, music drifting in from a club down the way... American boys need kissing lessons. We had so much fun, but I'm torn... email him and chat and be language-pals or just remember the perfect night and let it be one of those summer things?

The capital, Sofia, also has some amazing clubs and a piano bar of which we are insanely fond.

Oh, and the wedding was great fun. Bulgarian Orthodox, so I didn't understand a moment of it, but there was much chanting, kissing of crosses and bibles, and walking around the umm... altar? Thing.

They don't do garter tosses, but Erin insisted on it and so it was greatly amusing. Me and Gerri (the maid of honor - only christened Bulgarian Orthodox types are allowed to stand up with the couple) acted like proper bridesmaids, by getting quite tipsy and dancing ourselves to exhaustion.