That’s what I keep calling it. It hasn’t hit me yet, but that’s alright. We leave Friday afternoon. I still don’t even know how we’re getting back from the airport. That’s alright. We have to be back in NH and eventually VT for a gig that night. Is it odd I’m excited more about the travel in general more than being where I’ll be? Being at the airport, in cars, having a place to be. Yes of course, the sights. I’m not sure why I’m not excited yet.

Perhaps it’s because I can’t fathom going on a lavish vacation where I’ll be living briefly in castles turned tourist hotels. It might be raining along a lot of the trip. It’s still going to be fun. We’ll be drinking most likely the whole time, I hope so. So I might keep it light until then. It’ll start on the plane I assume. I have to get my shit together for this thing. She’s paying for everything so what is wrong with me? More focused on getting my everyday together than any kind of trip I guess.

Needless to say, my only bucket lists are as follows: 1. Buy rolls and rolls and rolls of film to shoot. 2. See the Phil Lynott statue in Dublin among any other historically musical sites. Boom. Anything else is going to be so amazing to me, I would be enjoying myself in a castle bedroom for 6 nights and be content. So it’s all gravy.

Or in this case, Guiness.