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A week from now, when I am sitting in my first-class window seat and breaking apart a warm cookie with moist chocolate chips melting onto my fingertips, I will not be thinking about how gauche it is to wear the same ensemble to three different gallery openings; I will not be practicing how to say "Yes, he is quite talented, isn't he," in German, nor will I daydream of the fine dining and sightseeing to come. Instead, I will be glancing around the cabin to gauge the perfect moment to lead my fellow passengers in an energetic sing-along of " On the Road Again ."

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