quill

Tickticktick goes the countdown. I'm hopping a bus Tuesday to go north.



I'm inwardly twitching. The Greyhound still makes me nervous, even though this is my second time riding. Despite obviously not being murdered or defiled last time, it's hard to shake the mental image society gives us. Truth be told, bus travel ain't bad. Yeah, not everyone is a bright shiny person. But hey, neither is everyone on a pain. Assholes on a plane just tend to be assholes with bigger incomes.
I'll take Greyhound and transfers and long rides over an airport any day. It's a lot less stressful, and I get plenty of (usually medicated) naps. Not thrilled about having three transfers, but I picked the route. This keeps me out of Detroit, a place I find overwhelmingly sad the last time through. That city just seemed dead somehow.
It's all worthwhile. I'm going to my favorite city to see my favorite person to restart the best love I've ever had. Thrilling And I get pho for lunch right after I arrive.



Cross your fingers all goes smoothly and I stay safe. Dead girls post no nudes.