Sid and I spent this week excitedly prepping for our trip to New York for NECSS, after which we planned to see Philly skeptics and visit my family in South Jersey. Everything was coming together beautifully. We broke out into song at random moments. Tiny birds and squirrels flew through our windows and helped me get dressed and they didn’t even cop a feel. It truly was a magical time.
As Sid was getting ready for work Thursday morning, I opened my laptop and spoke the fateful words: “Cool, a volcano erupted in Iceland! . . . Oh shit.”
Since then, as you may know, London has been enveloped in the warm, ashy fart of Iceland’s volcano, and all the airports have been closed. Because no ultrafast boats are leaving for the US anytime soon, Sid and I are stuck here in London and will be unable to make it to NECSS today.
This also means our chances of making it to Philly tomorrow are . . . well, pretty much zero. The airports are definitely closed until 7pm tonight but NATS says it’s only getting worse.
I’m unbelievably bummed out about this because I was so looking forward to hanging out with Skepchick readers, SGU listeners, and the good friends and family I haven’t seen since last year. I even have a suitcase full of souvenirs for my Boston Skeptic homies.
I’m so upset, in fact, that the headline you see on this post is the best I could do. I know. To make up for it, I also made the following based on a satellite image of the smoke sent to me by my Icelandic friend Hjalti:
Screw you, volcano.