This post is by Jonathan Blaustein from A Photo Editor
Click here to view on the original site: Original Post
I’m going back to Jersey next month.
(It’s been a while.)
My cousin’s daughter is having a Bat Mitzvah in early April, and if I told you it took me two months to plan my trip, you’ll have to trust that I mean it.
The amount of phone calls, texts, internet searches, Orbitz fuckovers, and general stress that went into it were enough to give me an ulcer.
Well, that’s not true.
I don’t have an ulcer.
I don’t even really know what that means.
It just sounded good.
You could imagine me shaking my finger at you, raging like a grumpy old man, about how much stress my travel plans caused me.
(It’s all because Mercury is in retrograde, I was recently told.)
Things are mostly locked down now, thankfully, and I can officially report I’ll be visiting AIPAD on Friday April 5th, in the early afternoon, in case you’d like to say hello. (APE audience meet-up?)
It looks like I’ll be taking cars, trains, planes, monorails, cabs, Ubers, boats, and an airport shuttle, all just to ping around the Tri-State area like the pinball that is Donald Trump Jr’s attention span.
“Dad, can I have a puppy? I mean a new go-kart. I mean Richard Pryor. No, I mean a gold fish. No, a football team. Daddy, can you buy me a football team? Buy me a football team, Daddy! But not in the NFL. I want a team in the USFL, Daddy, the USFL!”
The upshot is, I’m going to get drunk at a 13 year old girl’s birthday party.
Now, if you know me, you probably think I’m being ironic here. That I’m making fun of the situation. (Or taking the piss, as the English say.)
But I’d never do