Holy frickin’ crap.
It turns out that my Aunt crapped out of going down to Thanksgiving. You know what that means? I get to escort myself and my grandmother on a train allllllll the way down to Penn Station and to Chester, New Jersey.
Ain’t that swell?
Man I wish I had a damn airplane. And a valid pilot’s license. This could be so much easier. Grrr.
Actually, this train trip might not be so bad after all. I mean, it’s almost like a cross-country flight… with the pre-flight planning and all that. If I think about it more as a flight, it’ll go a hell of a lot smoother. I think I’ll do that then. Heh heh.
The hard part is going to be not getting my arse lost in Penn Station. Not to mention, I’ll have my 84 year old grandmother with me. This sounds like fun! At least she’s pretty swift on her feet. I think we’ll do just fine.
I’m writing up all of the scrobbled notes that I took while my uncle was explaining the itinerary on the phone. The more I write, the easier it sounds… the trip from Hudson down to Penn is two hours even. From the track in Penn, I have to find the main terminal and the NJ Transit. Apparently the train leaves hourly… so I can’t really screw up. Heh heh. That’s always a big reassurance. “Even an idiot like you can do something like this.” No, my uncle didn’t say that… I said that. Heh heh.
Actually, I think that the only reason why pretty much my whole family is trusting me with this is because of the whole pilot thing and the ability to take a lot of responsibility. Which, of course, they’re right. Heh heh… heh.. …heh.
The only thing I can’t forget is to keep calling and letting them know how the progress is going. We’re going to be fine. This is awesome.
I better get one hell of a glass of wine for this. Period.
I still have to pack. Shoot. It’s almost 11 in the morning, the train leaves at 2:25… eek. Not to mention that I’m down at my grandmothers, not home. I’m planning on packing lightly. Actually, the whole plan is that my grandmother and I leave our luggage and the pies with my cousin so she can drive them down when they go down tomorrow. I bring my freaking gigantic flight back and put some night clothes and clothes for tomorrow in there, and we’re all set. I love my flight bag. It’s my hero. Seriously.
Anyway, I should probably get some stuff together and get ready to run home and pack like a freak. Woot.
If all goes well, I’ll write up a little update on here tonight. If not… well, yeah. Heh heh. I’m sure all will be awesome. Plus I get to look all important, walking around Penn Station with a flight bag.
Please don’t shoot me… I have ID!! I’m legit! I have a student pilot certificate! Eek!
This should really be an interesting Thanksgiving. And aren’t you lucky that I get to write it all up on here…