It was reminiscent of when I was younger and Jen, Matt and Mike would leave for college. Because of the age gap, their college years were during my kindergarten to grammar school years and when they would go I would often run up to my room and cry into my teddy bear for a while. I would also listen to Billy Joel, because Long Islanders do that no matter what mood we're in.
As we pulled away, embarking once again on our 13 hour journey, Jen and I felt like road warriors. We could do this, heck we already knew the way to I-95 from our brother's place, this was easy peasy. The trip gave us time to look at all the road signs.
My favorite part of the road trip was probably talking to Jen, but second to that had to be Pedro and the ridiculous signs for South of the Border. If you are not familiar with these signs, well you obviously haven't driven north on 95 through the state that does not end, South Carolina- or from North Carolina to the South Carolina border.
South of the Border is the most obvious tourist trap you've ever seen. You get the hint by, oh the 20th sign you see for it. When we were driving back my reporter sister, who had just learned how to use my iPhone decided to research the place. The following are my favorite facts about South of the Border:
- It claims to have the largest sign IN THE WORLD. (Coming from NYC, I'm pretty sure that's false.)
- It has a large variety of shops, from antiques to adult pleasure store that boasts anything you'd need from a sex shop.
- It started as a beer stand - the perfect roadside stop.
- It has a large tower that is 200 feet high with a spectacular view of, absolutely nothing.
- DOZENS of people get married there ever summer.
The day after we returned from our road trip to Jen's in Virgina we were both exhausted. I spent most of the day playing with my adorable niece and dreading going back to New York. As much as I worried about the crazy, whirlwind, exhausting nature of this trip on paper, the actual execution of it was quite wonderful. Going back on an 8 hour luxury bus (SO glad I thought ahead and realized I wouldn't want to do another Greyhound transfer) seemed horrible on so many levels.
- I didn't want to sit anymore.
- I didn't want to see the open road for a while.
- I didn't want to return to New York City where my family was so far, far away from me.
I mean, I do love New York City. I love living alone with my adorable fat cat (that I am allergic to). And I love my friends, my comedy and my job - which are all in New York.
The other thing is-
While I was away I booked tickets for my next big trip: To go to my brother Mike's house for Thanksgiving.
When it comes to vacations, mine can be put to the tune of Billy Joel's New York State of Mind:
Some folks like to get away take a holiday from the neighborhood
Hop a flight to Miami Beach or Hollywood
I'm navigating a Greyhound, and then takin' I-95
I'm going to go see that Funke family of mine.