Matt Smith,

I'm skipping class to plan my vacations. If the irony of this escapes you, I'll have to bean you over the head with something heavy. Say, a chair, or a television, or my Abnormal Psychology book (although I really don't know how heavy it is since I'm SKIPPING THAT CLASS TO PLAN MY VACATION). I love life.
New York! Finalized vacation time at work... Looks like I'm going to have to be back by May 31, which, as you've previously mentioned, is Memorial Day. I guess everyone that works at the South Side Starbucks will be busy remembering things that day, and I have to be there so they can have time to do that. (Memorial Day. Who thought that one up?)
I guess there's a few questions that we should answer before we actually GO on this trip, not the least of which are: how are we getting there? and where are we going to stay? We could drive, and that might be interesting, I guess -- and we'd have to find a place to crash near the city ('cause I refuse to drive there -- that is right out). Or, we could take a bus. It's $180.00 total for both of us to get to New York on a Greyhound -- round-trip, no crazy bus-switching. But I can't really say I LIKE buses. It'd be nearer to the truth to say I DON'T LIKE buses. Or I HATE buses...

Side note: The last time I took a Greyhound bus to New York, Emma and I encountered a toothless, garbage-bag, duffel-bag toting man named Barry who spent the entire trip from NYC to Pittsburgh riding locked in the bus's bathroom with a pogo stick. No lie. He got on the bus, dropped his duffel and garbage bags in the front overhead storage area, took his pogo stick, and hightailed it to the back of the bus, chattering nonsense. The bus driver loaded up, put the bus in gear, and about 5 minutes down the road, she yelled, "Could someone back there check on Barry from time to time?" And someone must have said, "Sure" or "Yes" or something, but I looked around and everyone was acting like this was nothing. Em and I sat there in silence, staring at the backs of the seats in front of us for a few long miles before she said, "I tried to make that normal... but it's not."

And thus, I HATE buses. (Phew. That was good to get off my chest.)

So, there you have it. Vacation Matt Smith/Meredith-style. No place to stay and no way to get there. We'll figure it out. I'm sure we will. Because, well... we have to. Or we're not going.

(Did I mention I have to be completely moved out of my apartment before we even leave on this weekend excursion? Yeah. So... I mean, that's out there.)

Love,
Meredith