Travel Travel

originally posted on 8/22/07

Football players go to training camp. Soldiers go to boot camp. Chemists go to, I don't know, chemistry grad school, which to me sounds like the worst of the 3. Me, I travel, or at least I try to, and I've just completed my most recent pre-travel, I don't know, camp. Which means, research, getting a flight, tying up every conceivable loose end at work (difficult this time, anticipating what bullshit last-minute work they will thrust upon me and spending hours after work on many occasions to complete said work before it's demanded, thus avoiding the dreaded "you can't leave yet, you have to do this and that" wet blanket. This is why I usually tie end loose ends at work before a trip by quitting my job. Doing the actual work sucks.) But, I've got my work done, I've bought the shit I need to buy (bag, clock, booze) and am now on the precipice (no spellcheck, not my home computer) of the next major trip. I'm now at the promised land - the airport hotel (conveniently connected to one of my favorite places in the world - the airport hotel bar), happy to trade 40 bucks for an extra 2 hours of sleep tonight. Anyway, tomorrow I'm off to Thailand, where i will hang out on the beach, check out amazing cultural sights, and of course guzzle whiskey from the back of a speeding motorcycle taxi. And yeah, I'm fully aware that there's a 43% chance that this will be the last thing i ever write. Anyway, time for one more round at the aforementioned airport hotel bar. If you need to get ahold of me in the next few days, well, chances are, you can't., which I suppose is the point.

It's game time, baby!