It’s now 34 days until I touch down in the US of A and damned if time isn’t flying along. I’ve started mailing out media packs and getting in touch with hostels to arrange accommodation, but it feels like there’s entirely too much to do before my epic tour of the USA gets underway.
As I stood in the cold, quiet PATCO subway station waiting for the delayed eastbound train bound for Camden, I stamped my numbed feet one long walk in the snow away from frostbite and remembered what I said earlier to Nuevo and Pickle about the plan this weekend:
"I'm going to make a memory." Once I decided it was still on, I was going to find a way back to Princeton for my going away dinner, and I was going to make the getting there an event to remember.
We had spent the evening drinking in some old, large Irish pub. At least I think it was Irish, I'm pretty sure it was. The place looked very old, so old, in fact a city had been built up around it, its entrance now down some alley, next to a parking garage.