One drink minimum

The following are excerpts from my travel journal. They span a year of travels throughout the U.S. and abroad with only one thing in common: I wrote them while slightly intoxicated.

February 20th

Truth: Love is all you need. Note to self: Avoid the gift shop. For they are creepy and rude.

 May 20th (pre-drink)

…I’m actually on the plane right now. My flight was delayed five and a half hours and my period is rearing its nasty head right at this moment when I’m 35,000 feet away from the nearest Walgreens. I’m debating ordering a cranberry and vodka to ease the pain of the next six hours of flight. Through my earphones I still hear the “s” sounds of the words within a conversation a woman is having with her neighbor, but really she wants the entire plane to hear what she’s saying. And the moron sitting next to me is using his iPhone for poker and his iPod for music. You can do it all with one, man! The plane is being bounced around all over the sky. It’s annoying more than scary. I’m flagging down the flight attendant. VODKA CRAN WINS!

May 23rd

…Today I’m in Ketchikan for the second time in my life. I thought Alaska was a once in a lifetime thing. No such luck.

May 28th

…My back is destroyed. I can’t focus on writing for my blog. I’m surrounded by Asians. I’m going to buy a hat.

August 6th

I’m on a bus with plastic seat covers. Someone is playing awful gospel music from their cell phone. No, no. It’s coming from the speakers on the bus. Now is not a good time Jesus…

 September 4th

I am regretting this $17 sugar-free Red Bull and vodka I purchased at the Billy Joel/Elton John tribute. But what can I do? The guy played piano man right when the waiter walked by…

 December 29th

…and “Silver Bells” is playing on the pool deck, which should be enough of a reason to drink heavily. But I’ve heard this song at least 30 times in the last 72 hours, so I’m going to need something stronger. Maybe some Mexican Zoloft?