(this will be an ongoing blog over the course of the weekend as I attempt to chronicle my upcoming road trip to north carolina with my wife,one of the kids and my wife’s family (mom, sister, grandma and grandpa (yeah, seven people, one minivan and endless hours of road trip excitement :/ ))

be sure to check back regularly as i post updates from my phone…this should be…fun

Friday, 12:36pm

I think this may be the end…I am sitting here at my desk with T-minus 4 hours until I begin what is surely to be the road trip from Hell.

See, my wife and kids have road tripping down to a Science.

• You stop when you need gas.
• You pee when you stop for gas.
• You eat and get gas in one swoop.
• There is no complaining unless you are behind the wheel.

Science. The most important rule being the last one. It’s like fight club:

The first rule of road tripping with Jeff is YOU DO NOT COMPLAIN ABOUT ROAD TRIPPING WITH JEFF!

You are not the one driving, so shut up and play on your iPhone…read a book…take a nap…stare lazily out a window. I DON”T CARE…just. shut. up.

These rules have been steady and true. I have a feeling this will not be the case moving into the weekend.

I just went through a hurricane.

I have a hole in my window and it is covered by plywood.

I have barely slept in 3 days.

The only thing I have right now is a sense of adventure and the tail end of a chocolate Frosty…

…please kill me.

7:42 pm day 1

I just spent two and a half hours in traffic listening to people talk about cats missing them (this never happens) and a dog’s anal glands (this is not a joke).

On the plus side this happened:

And we’re back on the road…

11:57pm day 1

I’m too tired for this. Staying in a town in Alabama called Burnt Corn, which I guess is better than that weird fermented Mexican corn you get at the tienditas.

And I’m out.

6:13am day 2

Normal people don’t do this shit; I’m sure of it.

Drive halfway across the country 5-6 times a year…

I must have set the alarm for the wrong time and accidentally slept in an extra 45 minutes…whatever gets you there, I guess.

All I want is a monster biscuit from Hardee’s and a big glass of whiskey.

I hate cats.

I’m pretty sure I’ve gone into this before, but it’s true. If there was a scientific study to determine the worst domesticated animals I am sure cats would come in at #1. There would be z big to-do and a spread in Newsweek.

It would be a thing.

But the worst part of cats are cat people.

You know who you are.

You who talk about your cats like they are human.

You who act like YOUR CAT would never pee on you stuff (they’re doing it, you’re just accustomed to the smell).

You who want to talk about your cat incessantly and post pictures we don’t want to see on social media.

You who thinks your cat actually cares about you (they don’t).

You have ruined cats for everyone else.

Only 10 more hours to go.

9:03 am day 2

I’ve got Georgia on my mind…

and a Charlie horse in my left calf.

1 pm day 2

So, I’m sitting at the gas pump filling up in Augusta, GA. The old guy is standing on the opposite side of the minivan I have dubbed “The Chariot” fuming in my general direction.

Here’s the rundown:

Him: “Looks like we’re getting low on gas.” (we were roughly 100 miles to empty)

Me: “Were going to pull over in Augusta and get gas and food.”

Him: “Oh.” (three minutes later) “You know, when you’re doing 80 the mileage is really bad.”

Me: “It’s okay, I’ve got it under control.”

(two minutes later)

Him: “Looks like it’s dropping pretty fast.” (it (being the miles to empty reader) had dropped exactly 2 miles)

at this point I am white knuckles on the stealing wheel, staring straight out the front window mad…the kind of mad where you decide it is better to say nothing because these are your wife’s relatives and you want her to be invited to Christmas

I decide to run the miles to empty meter as close to the bottom as possible. When we finally stop for gas we have less than one gallon in the car.

And he is fuming…and I don’t care.

And the car smells like a goddamn litter box and I seem to be the only one that has noticed this! It is like a cat literally crawled up inside The Chariot and pissed all over the place!

Cat people; I swear to Buddha.

They’re also complaining quietly and under their breath about my choice in radio stations.

But as any sensible person knows, the driver picks the stations.

Anywho, fast food lunch complete and my chariot awaits.

7:29 am day 3

This went a lot better than I thought…

and of course, things became infinitely cooler after Slimey came out.

And we finally made it to North Carolina last night around 7pm.

…and then it started.

First Fran – the little English lady that lives inside the navigation system – gave me bad information, so I had to try to get turned around while she kept on “recalculating” and trying to get me to turn into the ditch.

Then, everyone in the car over the age of 50 (that would be almost half of them, by the way) decided to become back seat drivers!

Don’t worry, though, because their friend Jerry, or whatever, printed them maps….

So the last 70 miles of the trip was littered with under the breath bickering over which route was the best and more white knuckle, out the front window staring.

And we finally made it. And I got the rental car I was promised so I don’t have to do this around Wilmington for the next two days.

And it is 7:30 in the morning and my back hurts exceptionally bad and I have to attend a wedding today with a bunch of people I don’t know which has my agoraphobia working overtime.

But at least there is the promise of a day with only Sara and I tomorrow.

And Slimey is here as always…

…recreating movie moments just to make us smile; like this one from “American Beauty”.

9:10 am day 3

I am 84% sure there is a Hispanic family reunion at this hotel…and I 97% sure all 20 of them are sharing 2 rooms.

1:28 pm day 3

Okay, I’m wearing a tie, let’s get this wedding rolling.

4:27 pm day 3

Wedding in North Carolina. Sara’s sister married James Not-Sure-What-His-Last-Name-Is. Really nice guy and I wish them the most happiness.

And right as the ceremony began it started raining.

And the minister had Alzheimer’s so they kept it short just in case.

And it reminds you how life is a cliche.

But it was nice…and they seem happy…and that matters a lot.

10:11 pm day 3

Finally some time away.

Went to old town Wilmington. I told Sara this place was nice and she kept wondering what I was talking about.

Now she understands.

Old town Wilmington is like the French Quarter if the French Quarter was clean, didn’t smell like urine and the people were nicer.

We took a boat tour for five bucks.

And I finally got my beer.

Riptide Raspberry at Front Street Brewery…and it was soooo good.

And hitting the pillow early so we can get up at the buttcrack of dawn and head to Cherry Point.

6:15 am day 4

Howard. His last name is Howard.

9:08 pm day 6

Home.

Too tired to deal with it.

No one is allowed to talk to me about cats for at least one week or I will run away to Caracas.

Great last day in North Carolina. Here are some pictures.

Cherry Point, NC rifle range, where I was a rifle instructor.

Storm was brewing at Atlantic Beach.

One of these bastards pooped on my head once…no grudges.

Heading back…South Carolina.

Florida.

Glad to be home.

Turns out I am an awesome driver…or so they say.

17 hours of driving only stopping for gas and fast food.

I want to sleep for days.

I never want to deal with family in a car again.

I need a vacation.