After the failed “date” with the man who baptised me in his mouth after I told him I won’t suck his dick, I was starting to think that Austin was possibly a place I didn’t want to extend my stay in. But then figured I wasn’t giving the town enough of a chance. Just because there was one douchebag didn’t mean that there were more. How many dingbats could I possibly encounter as a single woman in Austin after all?
Not that many it turns out – feel free to read about my lovely trip here.
But what this post is about is how I left Austin with some new ink.
You see I was walking down the street (not as gracefully as I usually do after day 2 of drinking myself silly with drag queens) and I had one of those thought bubbles that light up above your head and flash like a police vehicle.
I wanted a new tattoo. It was time. It had been a long while since my last one and I never got around to gifting myself for my 30th with one. So I jumped on the lappy and looked up tattoo parlours on Yelp. One that came up with for Sailors Grave Ink along 6th. I hear they’ve since moved.
So I’m sitting at my hotel at the moment waiting for the time to pass so that I can make my way to the godforsaken greyhound station and hope that my 24 hour trip back to West Viriginia is not full of scary shit like my trip to New Orleans was. Spending 6 hours trapped on a bus with someone who had very very bad gas to the point that I had to hide my face in my jacket so that I didn’t dry retch was bad enough. Let’s not go into the fact that I had to come face to face with dirty underwear sitting on top of the toilet roll holder in Atlanta. Because every woman needs to see that when they are dying to pee.
I’ve sworn next time I’m just going to pay for flights. Unless greyhound have started doing a direct service that doesn’t take me half way around the states before getting me to my destination.
On the plus side, New Orleans sure knows how to put on a party. Mardi Gras was… well. Amaze. I have a suitcase full of beads (they are being used as padding for my breakables).
I have a cat-woman leather mask, a headband of feathers that make me look fabulous and so many many beads that I’m not sure what to do with them all, so I left them decorating my hotel room.
My bead haul
The best bit? I didn’t flash my girls once for beads.
It’s been a while since I’ve been sitting on a greyhound bored out of my brain.
So I thought I would update you on my trip to date.
No, there have been no strange men or sloppy kisses. My cousin effectively glared at any man that looked my way let alone tried to talk to me.
This meant I only saw the chaste version of Pittsburgh instead of the kinky underbelly that I’m sure exists.
I found the lock ness monster in Pittsburgh.
I’m off to America mark 2 today. I’ll keep y’all updated because I can’t help myself. But in the next 24 hours I’ll be flying. NYC here I come!
In the meantime take care of yourselves and enjoy love day.
From me to you.
You know, as an Australian abroad, I think I did all Australian’s proud when I went walking around Austin during the daylight to get to Congress I stopped to sit to have a breather under a tree in the gardens around Congress and was instantly surrounded by these little hopping things that were playing, rolling and generally being totally adorable.
We don’t have these in Australia. We have possums. Like this:
Ok, so possums more the size of wallaby’s… and I may or may not have cut up some of my watermelon for her.
So anyway, back to my squirrel adventure!! I apologise in advance for my love of squirrels and spamming you all with my squirrel peektures from Austin…
I think the only good valentines day I ever had was when I was dating my ex girlfriend and this could have been because we actually planned lovely romantic dinners and things to do together. Where as all my valentines days until this point and after were duds. Absolute duds. To the point I’m a bit traumatised and am going to spend Valentines day this year on a plane flying to the States.
So here’s one of the most epic failed valentines day getaways ever, courtesy of Beth and her blog entry about her failed honeymoon…
Travelling through Texas was interesting and it was also a bit of a romance story… between me and this big expanse of a state. Oh yes, she stole my heart.
Reminded me of home…
Stretches of country, pretty barren, occasional mountain. Minus the bright red sand. I was missing the red sand by this point. Could be why Texas stole my heart.
However I was happily being driven through Texas, first stop was El Paso to visit with a friend. I had his spare room and his cat to snuggle at night. After a few nights I moved onto San Antonio … I was about a 15 minute walk from the River Walk, staying in Market Square downtown. I walked that walk a few times in 3 days. I was the only one walking. Again, I think I was like the tourist attraction for the locals. I’m sure they all texted each other to drive past and stare at me like I was the first crazy Australian they’d seen ever.
Following on from my last fuck filled night in Vegas – our jaunt out of Vegas was just as much fun on the Greyhound.
Goodbye Las Vegas! Thanks for the concrete burn! <3
We were seedy, hung over like hell and hadn’t eaten anything by the time we loaded the bus at about 8 am. We crawled to the back of the bus and he wedged himself in the corner and I literally threw myself over him and we went back to sleep.
We woke up somewhere on the outskirts of Nevada and had a brief chat. Yes, his head hurt. Yes my head hurt. No I had no water. Oh he did in his backpack. Fantastic. No headache tablets. What’s the next stop again? I need more sleep. So we snuggled back into it and passed out.
Next we woke up and I think we were in Arizona. My head was pounding like a bitch and somehow my hand had ended up in his crotch with my face not too far behind on his stomach. Well hello there Mr Throbber. He might have been asleep but his other parts weren’t! I decided to behave myself until at least the bus was a bit less “full of people”. I didn’t want to be kicked off in the middle of Arizona with no idea where I was and a killer hang over.
And I know “sexual” things weren’t allowed on Greyhounds, the man driving told us so before starting the bus up and leave. Maybe I had a sign on my forehead that he noticed as I climbed on to the bus??
I think I went back to sleep. With my hand cupping his hard on. Some girls like teddy bears, what can I say? I like a full raging boner to snuggle.
Ends up on my blog. Damn straight.
My last night in Vegas was definitely something to write home about. Or possibly not.
Post card message home… From Vegas. With love.
You see, I had this greyhound pass. That for a month let me get on and off greyhounds at will. Travel anywhere, anytime. So that morning I trotted down the greyhound station and made sure I got a ticket for the bus that night to El Paso to see a friend. Not a problem, they booked me into the bus that was taking off about 8pm. Win. I left to go shopping. Because that’s what I do best when hungover. Well, shop and fuck. But we come to that latter bit later.
So I woke up the following day and decided that I was going to walk from downtown to the strip. It couldn’t be that far right?
I strolled out to find two cute bicycle mounted… Well police or whatever they were chatting away merrily as they peddled. Anyone that knows me also knows that I’m an absolute sucker for uniforms. Which meant I had to stop myself from launching onto the back of one. Instead I talked myself into taking a peekture (see above) and possibly walk really really fast to try to keep up with their perk lil
asses legs peddling lazily.
I finally lost them when I had to turn right to start my trek to the Strip. Along the way I was hoping to find a store where I could purchase a phone and a sim so that I could also be mobile. Figured if I headed in the general direction and used a bit of zen walking I should be fine. I was. Honest. Grabbed a bottle of water and off I went.