This is not a real post! Do not expect real postitude. DON’T, I SAID!
It is currently 8:15pm. Which is PAST MY BEDTIME. Because I need to get up tomorrow at FOUR A.M. Yes! You totally read that correctly. My train leaves just before 7am.
What train? Well! My train to New York City, of course!
But that’s not the exciting part. (Well, it’s SOMEWHAT exciting. I mean, it’s New York City. That’s ALWAYS exciting. But I don’t get to leave the train station, so not SO exciting.)
The EXCITING part is that, after about two hours, I get on ANOTHER train. And THAT train brings me to…
Yes, by the time you read this, I’ll be on that second train, on my way to the lovely state of Virginia. Which is apparently for lovers. (Do you think I am required to find a lover while I’m there? I’m only there for a few days. That’s kind of a time crunch. I suppose I could pick up some random at a gas station but I think that might be ill-advised. Because of the VD.)
We will have all the fun and adventure and talk and talk and laugh and eat foods and play with the kids and watch all the television and sometimes read and write because we totally know we need time to do that, too. That’s why this will be awesome. And then in just one day, Heather arrives! Oh, and then there is MORE hootenannying.
I will do my level best to a., take all the photos and b., let you know what’s going on in the state where I seem to be required to get a lover. (I suppose I will let you know how the quest for this southern lover is going. I’m going to guess it’s going to go poorly.)
Wish me all the train-luck (which means WINDOW-SEATS, which is all I ask for on the train. Oh, and also not a crazy seatmate, if I have to have a seatmate at all. Because a very long train trip with a crazy seatmate eating, say, red-hot Fritos, is not the best thing ever.)
Oh, and just so you know, Dad thinks I’m going to be mugged and then murdered in New York City, and Mom said “don’t talk to strangers!” and I said, “Huh. I’m actually going on this trip to MEET strangers” and she was all “Oh, no. Oh, no no. I don’t know about you. I just don’t know.” Then Dad and I were joking that we should tell her that I joined the zero mile high club in the train bathroom to see what her reaction would be and then I was like “No, but Dad, it’s so gross in there, like, it’s AWASH in urine” and he was like, “Oh, well, don’t do that, then.” I like that his only prerequisite to not boffing in the train bathroom was that I might get pee on me.
I have got to get to bed. Time for an adventure, folks. Here we go!