If someone had told me back then…Part 2 – Planning the Trip | The Reunion

-And sometimes all it takes is a single moment for a dream to turn into a path.-

And that’s where it all began.
With the first moment
when I wasn’t just thinking about the trip anymore,
but also about doing something for myself.

There I was, sitting with my coffee, and I knew:
I have to do something.
I want to go.

And yet, there was this moment
when everything felt slightly unsteady.
Not because I didn’t want it,
but because suddenly, so many thoughts were there at once.

Can I really do this?
Will I physically manage?
Will I find my way around in a city I don’t know?

And then there was this quiet sense of responsibility.
That feeling of: can I really just take this for myself?
Can I make this decision without checking with anyone, without considering everything?

But the longer I thought about it, the clearer it became:

If I don’t do this now…
I might never do it.
There probably won’t be a second chance.

And in that moment,
I made the decision for myself.
Just for me.

I was going to book a ticket for the show.
Everything else could be figured out later.

I still remember the moment I booked it.
It wasn’t dramatic.
No big pause.
And yet, everything changed in that instant.

Because suddenly, it was real.
No more “maybe someday.”
No more “that would be nice.”
Just this: I’m flying to Los Angeles.
Seeing the cast of my favorite series.

And just like that, there was no going back.

The next three months were filled with anticipation
and a lot of planning.

Flights, hotel, entry forms, luggage.
Where can I go? Where shouldn’t I go?
How do I get from A to B?
What do I need to keep in mind?
What do I need to bring?

Shopping options, routes, timing,
SIM card, roaming, avoiding extra costs…

And in the middle of it all: me.

ChatGPT became my best friend.
I checked everything, took notes, prepared as much as I could.

For frequent travelers, this might sound like a lot.
But for me, it was my first big trip on my own.
I wanted to keep as much as possible under control,
to protect my nervous system from stress and chaos.

By early January, everything was ready.

On Monday, January 26, 2026, it finally started.

Well… more or less.
Departure: Berlin, 9:00 a.m.
Stopover: Munich.
Then on to Los Angeles.
That was the plan.

At Berlin airport, there was already chaos.
The days before had been extremely cold,
and now there was snowfall on top of it.

Two de-icing trucks for the entire airport.
The result: a delay of three and a half hours.

My connecting flight was gone.
Rebooked for the next day.
Great.
One full day lost.

So much for detailed planning.

But I had learned to stay calm
in situations I couldn’t control.

So I went to the service desk in Munich.
All I really wanted was a hotel.

The woman at the counter looked at me and asked,
“Why did they rebook you for tomorrow?”

Then she said,
“I can still get you to LA today, if you want.”

Wait… what?

By then, it was around 3 p.m. CET.
At 4:40 p.m. CET, there was a flight to San Francisco,
and from there on to Los Angeles.
Arrival was at 0:34 a.m. the next day, local time (PST).

Honestly?
I was already completely exhausted at that point.
And now another airport I didn’t know?

But what was the alternative?
A bad night’s sleep and starting all over again the next day?

The decision came quickly.
I stayed with the plan, just a different version of it.

Luckily, the plane wasn’t full.
I had three seats to myself and could stretch out.

Headphones on.
Eyes closed.
Trying to sleep.

In San Francisco, everything went surprisingly smoothly.
I was physically exhausted, completely.
But my worries beforehand turned out to be unnecessary.

Everything was clearly signposted.
And in the evening, it was actually quite calm.

The approach into Los Angeles…
That was my first real highlight.

It had taken me so long to get to this city.
And I don’t just mean the journey itself.

Now I was there.
I had arrived.
I reached my small hotel in Santa Monica.
And after a few hours of sleep, I was rewarded.

Right across the street: the Pacific Ocean.
Palm trees.
That bright, wide beach.
The breeze, the warm sunlight…

I stood there and thought:
I’m really here.

Despite the pain, despite the exhaustion,
a deep feeling of happiness came over me.

Because I hadn’t just arrived in a place,
I had also arrived a little more within myself.

January 28, 2026. Reunion Day.

I didn’t plan too much for that day.
A walk to Venice.
Time at the beach.
Just sitting there, watching the ocean.

And then it started: the nervousness.

Will I understand everything?
Will I be able to talk to people?
Will I find everything?
What if…?

Yes, I’m an overthinker. Absolutely.

Large crowds can overwhelm me quickly.
Too many impressions, too much noise.
And when my body shuts down,
my mind often follows.

But today didn’t matter.
This was what I had come for.

Standing in front of The Wiltern,
I was simply overwhelmed.

The announcement:
“An Evening with the Bundys – The Married… with Children Cast Reunion”

The fans.
The line outside.
That shared excitement in the air.

It was incredible.
And I was part of it.

Arriving at the lounge, I took a moment to breathe.
Looking back, I might have been a bit braver,
mingling more with others.

But it was okay.

Inside the theater, the atmosphere was electric.

Everywhere: Whoa Bundy!
Laughter, energy, anticipation.

A room full of people
who shared the same sense of humor.
Who understood the sarcasm.
Who felt the show.

Who celebrated the show.
And then it happened.

When Katey Sagal, Christina Applegate, Ed O’Neill and David Faustino came on stage,
the entire room erupted.

I stood in the crowd, looked at them,
and finally, my dream had come true.

There I was,
surrounded by people who felt exactly the same way I did.

And I think it took me a while to truly realize
that this wasn’t a dream anymore.

It was just… beautiful.

Seeing the four of them together.
Hearing their stories.

And yes,
I understood much more than I had expected.
Not everything,
but more than I thought.

I was simply happy.
And incredibly grateful.

I had to skip the after-show party at the Viper Room. Too late for me.
But honestly, this was already more than enough. Something I had waited a lifetime for.

The days in Los Angeles, or Santa Monica, passed so quickly.

On the evening before my departure,
I stood at the beach one last time.

Sunset.
Ocean.
Silence.

And yes…
a few tears.

I felt overwhelmed.
Grateful.
Proud.
And also a little sad to leave.

The return flight went smoothly.
I was able to sleep, no delays, no extra stress.

It took me a few days
to fully recover physically.

But one thing was clear right away:
I’m happy.

And I’m deeply grateful for this experience.

And now?

Was this the end of the story?
Or maybe just the beginning…