To you, my travel partner.
I vow to always suggest new places, to never say any one spot is off limits, to never say a place is not interesting or overrated.
I vow to always keep up good appearances in front of your parents so they don’t think their child is traveling with a crazy person because that’s between us.
I vow to be your travel agent, bodyguard, photographer, historian, and food critic all in one. We will find the best places, the cheapest eats, the best photo ops, and in hostels I’ll ward off any drunks that try hitting on you. Worst case scenario we’ll say we’re dating.
I vow to always keep ideas flowing and our schedule exciting.
I vow to understand you might need a day off, staying in the hostel or hotel or airBnB isn’t against the rules and I won’t be mad at you for suggesting it.
I vow to make every free hostel breakfast feel like a five star bottomless brunch. But I also vow to keep watch while we take extra for the road.
I vow to be just as interested in all of the things you like, or at least fake it. Because even though I might’ve seen something a thousand times doesn’t mean it should discredit your first time.
I vow to understand your fears, and push you through them slowly but surely. You will always have a hand to hold while we explore the new, strange, scary and unusual.
I vow that I will make sure we always get to the airport on time, and if for some reason our flight is cancelled I’ll figure out how to get a new one.
I vow that if your luggage gets lost you can use mine, even though everything will be big on you.
I vow that my food is your food. We can always split meals and snacks so we can cheaply try more of the cuisine.
I vow that if we ever find ourselves in a foreign country I will not shame you for one day wanting McDonald’s or fifty cent ramen. Sometimes our stomachs want something like home even if we are in the land of tapas, or pasta, or sushi.
I vow to always stay adventurous and if we hit a point in our lives in which we can no longer travel together, I promise to always keep you updated, I promise to like all of your posts, I promise to continue to talk to your parents and remember your immediate family, I promise to continue any of our inside jokes, and I promise to offer more travel suggestions for us in the future.
“You’re seeing someone now aren’t you?”, says this old, gay man with a southern drawl that you can see, is reading my palm. “Kind of, it’s nothing serious though.” Is my response, attempting to not give away any signs.
“Is it a woman?”
“No.” But I understand how he could mistake me for lesbian.
“Odd, I’m picking up an incredibly feminine energy, that usually only happens with lesbians, transexuals, or people that have daughters.” Okay sir, so your first bet was that I too, was gay? (not that it’s a bad thing, but in my love life the last thing I need is the male gender to think I’m not pitching to their team)
“So this gentleman, he has a daughter, young though. Both of them. He’s a young parent.” Well, yes and yes. But then again I’m not running around looking for DILF’s and sugar daddies.
“Well honey, I sense that since you’re a Taurus, and you like stability, this one will be the one, give it two to three years, y’all gon’ elope.” This was one of the things that started out right but ended so wrong.
I was just starting to see someone at the time, he has a daughter, and they are both young. Again I found myself in the pitfalls of modern dating, which for me is a song and dance that don’t quite go together. Without getting into a crazy amount of detail, this guy I was seeing was essentially, a loser. Not one ounce of ambition, not a glimmer of intelligence, and an alcohol bill that could make the vikings shudder. Were there good things about him? Of course, he was clever and funny, but that doesn’t pay the bills and it doesn’t keep me around, not since I discovered pandora plays stand-up comedy. So I, in typical Shannon fashion, ruined it and decided to stop all communication. Which is probably the best way to handle things, if not the most efficient.
Sadly they say technology has supposedly made it easier for people to date and learn about each other, swipe left for no and right for yes and up for hell yeah. So easy a monkey could figure it out, but everytime my hopeless romantic self jumps on these sites I find that it just lowers my faith in….well mostly in my generation, and men. The act of having to scan through all the eligible bachelors within a hundred mile radius, isn’t exhausting, it’s just something that really lowers one’s hopefulness in finding the right person because here they all are and they use the following words to describe themselves.
-6’5 because that apparently matters here
-Just checking this out.
And my personal favorite, a blank biography. Just one or two pictures of him, one usually in a suit and the other photo being an overly candid photo where he’s looking out onto a lake, or beach, or mountain.To the men that do this I must ask, why? What are you wistfully looking at in the distance? Who has that reeled in so far? Regardless, my dating life is like a broken revolving door, they come into my life, get stuck a little, and they go out as quickly as they came and I like it that way. It’s temporary companionship and for a couple of weeks, I wake up to a daily good morning text, I get treated to dinner and movies, and then just as it becomes a routine, I drop it. Onto something new, just the way I like it. So this is the first of many Things The Fortune Teller Was Wrong About. Let’s see how many other things go horribly wrong.
So this little category called TTFTWWA, (Things The Fortune Teller Was Wrong About) is going to be wholly, fully, and completely dedicated to one singular expierience that has had me analyze and re-analyze an excessive amount of my social interactions and personal choices. To give you a long story long, (see what I did there? I’m not good at short stories.)
Once upon a time I went soul searching, A.K.A avoiding my adult life in New Orleans, upon getting my tarot cards and palm read, I realized that there were a crazy amount of things this little, gay, seventy year old man was getting right. Was it my aura? Was I gullible? Was it part of a secret camera show that will become viral years down the road? Who knows? Maybe he does. But I don’t so I’m going to go ahead a write them as they go WRONG as things tend to go in real life.
To be fair, are there still things he got right? YES! But is it fun to write about right. No, it’s fun to write about wrong anf the misfortunes in life, but to his credit these were correct.
I was vegan and healthier than ever, at the time of the reading
I did just recently move and lost a lot of my possessions.
I was seeing a guy at the time of the reading who had a child.
My favorite vegetable is spinach.
And finally my dad and I have not really seen each other in six years. (Funerals were the only exception and they weren’t his)
So with this said I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it, and takes everything with a grain of salt. This is all meant to be funny, if you feel offended just hit the home button of your phone, or hit the big ol’ exit button located at the top of your screen.