In April, I was due to fly to Vancouver for my brother's wedding when a volcano I dubbed 'Iggy' decided to erupt and spew ash all over the hemisphere causing cancellations galore.
Working in the travel industry at the time, I couldn't escape the possibility that I might actually have to partake in my brother's wedding via Skype. My stress levels and disappointment were so severe that I was whisked out the night before my flight was due to leave to drown my sorrows in 2 for 1 cocktails.
But the miracle swept in, and they opened the airports that very morning and I walked down the aisle after all.
Now a measly five inches of snow and more forecasted bad weather is threatening to leave me stranded and alone in London for Christmas. After I busted my ass to get all of my Christmas shopping done in time and braved the streets of Oxford Circus...
So I'm crossing my fingers and hoping like mad to score a hat-trick. Because despite my flatmate offering to wrap up random items in our house for me to open up on Christmas Day (Thanks Suey) - I really want to go home this year.

A photo of the very empty Heathrow Express train carriage the morning the airports opened after the ash cloud crisis. I showed up 4 hours early expecting a mad mob - this is what I was greeted with

My ride to my brother's wedding - I'd never been so happy to board a plane.... I'll be even happier when/if I board a plane this Friday afternoon