Upcoming Attractions!

I’m dangerously close to embarking upon 10 years of reliving the same scenario over and over. Some people might say it’s a blessing; others may classify it as insanity. I’m still unsure what to call it.

Said scenario launches into: Midnight and I’m still packing my bags. Wishing for only for a quick weekend trip with friends, but no, they’re being packed – again – for a 53-day journey. Destinations: 17 cities in North America.

Next, the 5 stupid 30 alarm bolts thru my head and I must peel myself from MY incredibly comfortable bed. I arise, come into being and start the pilgrimage to the sacred place of another rock & roll tour. My quest, undertaken, for the votive purpose of paying homage to yet another talented artist or band. Those gloriously glamorous, aloof & wealthy beings that willing whisk me all over the world.

My amazing brother, Scott, shows up without fail to the beach house to extract me from peace, to aid in thrusting me into a world of chaos. If I don’t leave the beach, I can’t collect stories for this book I keep threatening to write. I begrudgingly bang my suitcases down two flights of stairs and throw them into the back of his SUV.

Hello Tampa International Airport – your frequent flier is back!

Overweight luggage fees, again; collect boarding pass (aisle seat please) then I scurry to security for my cheap feel on a Friday afternoon from a TSA lady named Doris.

Take off, flight then landing.

Check in, sleep and then check out.

Venue load in at 5 stupid 30 (in the morning), enjoy chaos all day then load out until 1am.

Crawl into my coffin on the tour bus after a 20-hour workday, take blue sleeping tablet, watch Dexter on my ipod – drift off to sleepy land to wake in another city and quite possibly another country.

Point A to B flash forward to Z then resume A to B to Z over & over again.

This lifestyle is not designed for you to keep up; it’s designed for you to keep going.

Wow and only 51 days until my return to beach house.

1. sarah says,

   and what are our rewards from this.. this life we seem to love, at least others think we should love it. my librarian sister thinks i have the coolest job in the world. my parents are finally (sort of) impressed that i can pay my bills and help them out as well, my grandmother doesn’t quite understand it, but can see me by a rock in australia, see me by a castle in scotland, and see that her grandchild has done something, if not, at least gone somewhere.
   ten, almost eleven years of this, very well put A to B story and then back again, like you so brilliantly laid out, i get to a point of.. how much longer do i do this vicious circle? at what point do i think enough is gonna be enough? what the hell am i here for, because i don’t think i spent the last 2 and a half hours on the phone with the chosen resturant of the night making sure that there was NO dairy in that entree, and that the other entree ordered was infact not on the menu, but can you please make it anyway. It wasn’t for me, i ate half a slice of cold pizza at around 2am like i always do, til i remember i don’t really enjoy cold pizza.
   There must be some reason i go thru this.. .some reason every time i come back from it, i wonder… what’s this got in it for me?
   and am i totally losing the lesson i’m supposed to be learning?

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