An eighteen hour bus ride from Reno to Vegas. There was a man behind us rambling to himself the whole time. At some point in Utah I realized it: how did I really think that Tyler Durden would behave? I was wondering how this passenger navigated riding the bus, let alone paying for a ticket, when all along he had been the real-life version of my hero.
Savanah is so beautiful. She's spent most of the day sleeping, like an angel, beside me. We didn't get to bed til around two. It was our intention to be up at five but the time change slipped our minds. Of course by the time we realized that it was four something-or-other in the morning, we were already dressed. So we just went early to the Greyhound station.
And what is there to say about "the dog"? It takes you eighteen hours to make an eight hour trip; we had the moves put on us by a couple of smooth cats; saw the insides of a lot of lonely, stale gas stations in the middle of nowhere; and I probably smell like someone else's B.O. Want to know what the strange part is? This feels like home.
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