Travelogue
I feel like I'm just offering up dry snippets of information.
Today I ate a boiled egg for breakfast.
Then I washed it down with coffee.
I stared in space for 30 seconds and solved the world's dwindling forest problems.
Brushed my teeth for 2.57 minutes.
Noticed I hadn't put on new makeup for 2 days. (my ego's not too high right now)
Farted around for 15 minutes.
Fed my spirit.
Yes I know, it frustrated even me. I'll just update you then and get back to my old routine of quality-yet-tinted-with-antcipated-sexuality blogging that you've come to know and love. (one of these days I'll do a post all about sex....HAHA! see?)
My adventurous month long road trip is now finished.
Here I have painstakingly tracked my journey for you. Red being forward movement, blue being backwards.
And it's never been truer said that thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel from coast to coast without seeing anything.
I was the sole driver and having uncharted so many miles of charted seas/roads I can say in all honesty, I started seeing the most unbelievable things morph before my eyes (ie. palm trees turning into giant sky elephants, road signs into wildly gesiculating humans and clouds into apocryphal prophecies)
The highlight of my trip would have to be sneaking off to Miami for a whole night and half a day to escape my unrelated relatives and see my friends some of whom I hadn't seen for maybe 2 years..give or take.
Made my heart feel all warm and fuzzy hanging out with those guys.
And I love you.
Though in truth, I felt had, driving along that Timiami Trail that boasted of "Panther Crossings" and "Careful. Slow Indians Playing".
I saw neither.
Just crows pecking at busted tires (which I, at first excitement, wanted to believe were basking crocodiles)
Ah yes! I ran out of gas on the way back but I'm too embarassed to expound on that one. Riding a horse to the gas station with a jerry can in hand. The mental picture tickles me in all the right places.
We broke down in Pensacola and were nearly stranded but thanks to a bit of string, some dirty hands, pliers and spittle we were back on the road. (Fine! Fine! we shelled over mass amounts of cash. I cry thievery!)
Houston welcomed us at 2 AM and I wallowed in the muggy atmosphere and love making with the 2nd and 3rd "World's Sexiest People": soon to be Mrs. Smooth Jazz and soon to be Mr. Rycole. I assume.
And that would be the long and short of it. Mostly short.
Travel is only glamorous in retrospect and in the telling of it.
Today I ate a boiled egg for breakfast.
Then I washed it down with coffee.
I stared in space for 30 seconds and solved the world's dwindling forest problems.
Brushed my teeth for 2.57 minutes.
Noticed I hadn't put on new makeup for 2 days. (my ego's not too high right now)
Farted around for 15 minutes.
Fed my spirit.
Yes I know, it frustrated even me. I'll just update you then and get back to my old routine of quality-yet-tinted-with-antcipated-sexuality blogging that you've come to know and love. (one of these days I'll do a post all about sex....HAHA! see?)
My adventurous month long road trip is now finished.
Here I have painstakingly tracked my journey for you. Red being forward movement, blue being backwards.
And it's never been truer said that thanks to the Interstate Highway System, it is now possible to travel from coast to coast without seeing anything.
I was the sole driver and having uncharted so many miles of charted seas/roads I can say in all honesty, I started seeing the most unbelievable things morph before my eyes (ie. palm trees turning into giant sky elephants, road signs into wildly gesiculating humans and clouds into apocryphal prophecies)
The highlight of my trip would have to be sneaking off to Miami for a whole night and half a day to escape my unrelated relatives and see my friends some of whom I hadn't seen for maybe 2 years..give or take.
Made my heart feel all warm and fuzzy hanging out with those guys.
And I love you.
Though in truth, I felt had, driving along that Timiami Trail that boasted of "Panther Crossings" and "Careful. Slow Indians Playing".
I saw neither.
Just crows pecking at busted tires (which I, at first excitement, wanted to believe were basking crocodiles)
Ah yes! I ran out of gas on the way back but I'm too embarassed to expound on that one. Riding a horse to the gas station with a jerry can in hand. The mental picture tickles me in all the right places.
We broke down in Pensacola and were nearly stranded but thanks to a bit of string, some dirty hands, pliers and spittle we were back on the road. (Fine! Fine! we shelled over mass amounts of cash. I cry thievery!)
Houston welcomed us at 2 AM and I wallowed in the muggy atmosphere and love making with the 2nd and 3rd "World's Sexiest People": soon to be Mrs. Smooth Jazz and soon to be Mr. Rycole. I assume.
And that would be the long and short of it. Mostly short.
Travel is only glamorous in retrospect and in the telling of it.
Comments