Pop the corn. Pull down the projector screen. It's time for somebody else's vacation pictures. I promise no pictures of babies, cousins, or kids. No pictures of tired parents forcing their screaming children upon an adult dressed in a Goofy costume. No fanny packs. Just adventures and beer.**If my family took photos like this I'd have called CPS.**
At the start of this summer, I had no plans. No worldly vacations lined up, no road trips, not even a friend with a boat on a lake in Texas - which is sort of unheard of, especially if you've lived here as long as I have. But it's also somewhat acceptable seeing as how the several people I've met who do have boats were all complete and utter douchebags. Thank you, match.com, for those fine introductions.
And then the days started to go by. May got hot and humid. Thoughts of escaping were tossed around. Wishes and wants and maybes. People were met and friends were made, which led to fun plans being made and adventures being had. I met new people. I introduced old friends to even older friends and in the process they became new friends. All in all the world got a little smaller, in degrees of separation and in miles covered.
Here's a little photo recap, some highlights of where I went via plane, train, automobile, motorcycle, boat, and foot (yep I really took all of those - just missed the bike and the horse). Now like any good vacation photo set this is long and I don't expect you to care about any of it. But keeping your eyes open would be nice. Here we go!
First off, The Greatest Drinking Foot Race Of All Time happened. And of course I brought my bff Wendy. Little did we know this was only one of many drinking vacations we'd take together this summer.
Next up, Four Days in a Field. At the end of 2009, I mentioned wanting to go to Bonnaroo. And there was about as much of a chance of me going to Bonnaroo as there would be of me going to Zimbabwe tomorrow afternoon, let's be honest. Fast-forward four months and I meet someone who has friends going to Bonnaroo. And he wants to know if I want to go. Heck. Yes. Checking Bonnaroo off my 'To Do Before I Die or Turn 30" list. Checkity-check-check.
On the way back from Bonnaroo and Manchester, Tennessee, we took a little break for lunch in Memphis. Of course we already knew the BBQ was good, but who knew the architecture was so cool?
First off, The Greatest Drinking Foot Race Of All Time happened. And of course I brought my bff Wendy. Little did we know this was only one of many drinking vacations we'd take together this summer.
Giants game on a sunny San Francisco day. Perfection.
Carne tacos from the Mission. Fresh pico. Cold beer. I just died.
Late-night pizza at an old stand-by.
*No actual photos of TGDFROAL appear because it's sacred. Or because we were drunk the whole time. Ya know.
Next up, Four Days in a Field. At the end of 2009, I mentioned wanting to go to Bonnaroo. And there was about as much of a chance of me going to Bonnaroo as there would be of me going to Zimbabwe tomorrow afternoon, let's be honest. Fast-forward four months and I meet someone who has friends going to Bonnaroo. And he wants to know if I want to go. Heck. Yes. Checking Bonnaroo off my 'To Do Before I Die or Turn 30" list. Checkity-check-check.
First motorcycle ride of my life lasted 6 hours across Tennessee.
At $15 a spin, I skipped this ride.
The National. My favorite band. And my favorite wino.
Oh, btw, it was beyond hot there.
On the way back from Bonnaroo and Manchester, Tennessee, we took a little break for lunch in Memphis. Of course we already knew the BBQ was good, but who knew the architecture was so cool?
I like bricks and squares.
Bricks and squares and old signage.
Stuffed animals. Bowls of candy. Like childhood all over.
This aint no Pebble Beach.
Not content to be in Dallas for five whole days in a row, a 12 hour trip to St Louis to see Jackson Browne was perfectly executed before anyone knew I was gone. This was a thing of beauty. Seriously, we left St Louis at 6:20 in the morning, making it to the gate as our group was called, landed back at Love Field at 7:52 a.m. I signed in at 8:29 a.m. and made it on time to my 8:30 a.m. meeting. Boo-effing-ya. That's how you do it.
The Restored Fox Theater
The lovely Jackson Browne and Co.
Two days later, it was off to Lake Tahoe for a long weekend of beer, boats, and bears. Sun, mountains, swimming, and not-100-degree weather. Vacation #3 with bff and traveling buddy.
This is becoming an all-too-familiar scene.
But it's a beautiful one.
And finally! One more trip out west over Labor Day weekend, though this time I took a boy with me! (Sorry Wendy. Sorry Panos.) Playing tour guide in one of my all-time favorite cities is so easy and yet, so hard. Where to go first? And then next? And with only so much time and so much energy - those hills are tough when you live in the flatlands - we went everywhere we could before collapsing every night.
First stop, Red's. $1.75 PBRs. Hello, San Francisco Values.
Three words: North Beach Special.
And then there were penguins! 
And sailboat rides.
And foggy mornings perfect for sleeping in, running, and coffee.
And now I'm home. My travels are done except for when I pack up and stack up and throw over my shoulder the pieces of my apartment and trek them across the alley (via foot) or around the block (via car) to the new apartment. And it's time to start waking up early again and training for the Austin marathon. Goodbye summer vacay food, I will miss you. I will not miss my tighter pants.
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