Some people vacation on sunny beaches. Some people vacation by staying home and watching Oprah. One week from today, I will be embarking on a strange little Gigi vacation. I am going to drive by myself to Chicago to have dinner and enjoy some gay karaoke with my dear friend D. The next morning, he is going to drive me to the airport at an obscenely early hour so I can catch my flight to Newark. That's right, I'm vacationing in luxurious New Jersey.
Jersey and I go way back. I've never lived there myself, but I've come pretty damn close (I almost went to Rutgers!), and I don't think I'd complain if I did. I've had family living there as long as I can remember, and it always feels like home.
I'll be staying with my two aunts, respectively, until I fly home on Friday. Wednesday evening, my cousin Em and I are taking the train into New York to see a taping of The Daily Show, which should be totally fucking awesome, considering how much we both love Jon Stewart. Thursday, I'll be going back to NY on my own to one of the happiest places on earth, the MoMa, and also to just generally explore the city on my own, since I haven't been there in four years. I'm sure I'll find something to do.