Not all it is cracked up to be

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Today: Left Home. Drove 2 hours to Logan Airport to send off someone I don't care about all to much. Drove north to Maine. Other Home.

Now: Fingers itching.

And?

Watching TV. "Confident travellers are different" Sings a commercial tag line. Confident traveller. What does make thee? It seems those two words resound some sort of resonance somewhere inside. Whether that is because I am a confident traveller or whether I aspire to be, I have yet to realize. Maybe because in my mind there is a connection between a confident traveller and a confident writer.

The most paradisical way to spend vacation time would be with everything I own on my back...in search of whatever adventure I could get myself into. The challenge would then be to elloquently write about it.

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My cross country road trip was a bust...

its still so frustrating to recall. All that money, all that excitement.

The cast: Myself, my girlfriend, her cousin

The problem: The boxing hall of fame. (I know, wtf!?)

The scene: The cousin deciding that we would drive non stop from Wisconsin to Syracuse (sleeping in Toledo) so that she could spend 15 minutes in the Boxing Hall of Fame while we went to dunkin donuts across the street.

The result: Not being able to see anything on the way home, except the spance of highway through the flat lands to upstate New York.

Bollocks.

More later.

In between travels I will try to improve my skills by putting out there some info on where I live, in case 'yall are heading up this way.

Lots worth seeing.

Peace

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