Stopovers

Slowly out of line and drifting closer in your sights

My penultimate wedding trip is in November.  Penultimate at least of the ones scheduled.  We'll see what happens.  Told myself I would totally plan ahead this time.  You'd think that after ten of these trips I'd have it down.  Nope.  Its in only 2 or 3 weeks.  Fuck why is my little sister getting married already?  I haven't even fully broken in my new motorcycle yet and she's already into the next stage of life.  Everyone needs to slow the fuck down around here.  I think I've met the guy like...twice.  I guess thats what happens when...whatever.

So...yet another trip home, or whatever.  Its high time I started adding some actual vacation time into my vacations.  Sure, bumping around philly trying to chase down like 10 different groups of friends and trying to optimize my schedule for the most quality time and the fewest offended people is great and all but I wouldn't call it a vacation.  When I think vacation I'm more thinking wake up in a beach house with people that don't annoy you.

I originally budgeted over a week for this trip, but the idea of living out of a suitcase for that long, putting around in some shitty ass rental car from quiet drink at a bar to yet another quiet drink at a bar seems too exhausting this time.  Seriously, it seems like rental car companies specifically choose cars that no one wants to own.  I was in a piece of shit Fiat last time.  My mom loved it.  Also an old lady stopped me outside Borders to ask about it.  Horrible.  Anyway.

I kind of want to bundle something else into this trip, something, preferably, that is somewhere in between Philly and Seattle so I don't have to be on a commercial jet that long.  Still having to the deal with the fucking TSA though...I really hate that bullshit.  Every time I go through security I point directly at their full-frontal-nudity cancer machine and say "I'm not going through that; get someone to feel me up" and they still give me this confused look like they don't know what I'm talking about.  Really?  A guy in blue gloves is about to play with my balls and you have to play this game with me to rub it in?

But...since I am stuck with this shit, lets make the most of it.  Stop somewhere cool and do a mini-vacation on the way.  Obviously, only places between Seattle and Philly will help.  No need to make the damn airplane rides even longer, although I do wonder what its like to have a Mexican TSA agent play with your balls.  If he talks Spanish to me I might not mind so much.  Speaking of getting raped, stay out of Tennessee.  Anyway.

Here is a list of possible mini destinations:

Vegas
New Orleans
Austin, TX
Chicago
New York City

Yeah, everywhere else is in California and would take me out of the way.  Not sure what I would do in these places anyway...maybe just stay one night and try to find some couch surfers to hang out with?

In conclusion: fuck you John Pistole.