The to-do list was long. It's still long. I haven't accomplished much. My intentions were good, but frankly, I'm tired. Much more tired than I thought.
I'm ready to go to the island with Jolie. Our island. It's our plan. We're going to go to an island where we will be the only inhabitants. We will not have to take meds because nobody else will be there--there won't be any need to be anyone other than who nature intended us to be.
We understand each other. We don't offend each other. Much. If we do, it's no big deal. We've learned not to take things personally.
When I told Frank about the island, his immediate concerns were pragmatic: "How will you get supplies?" I said we'd have them airlifted and dropped from planes. "Well, what if you get sick of each other and one of you kills the other?" I replied, "We probably had it coming."
Frank got quiet and asked, "Can I come visit?"
"No."
The other day I interrupted Jolie's peaceful retreat from civilization with a phone call. My loneliness was getting the best of me. the boredom was even worse.
"Jolie, I always thought I would be a world traveler. The bad thing about FaceBook is that I'm finding out that everyone I ever knew has traveled extensively while I've been driving in circles."
I don't think Jolie can really empathize here. She's already covered, like, half the planet. I tried to explain that I was supposed to be a world traveler. It was my plan and I thought it was my destiny. I had already been to South America twice--without my parents--by the time I was 18. Now I'm on vacation and I've put 14 miles on my car since August 7. There is no travel now or in my future.
Jolie asked me if I have a passport. Oh, great, now I'm going to really look like a loser.
"No, Jolie, I do not have a passport. The one I got in 1976 expired in 1981, and I haven't had any need for a new one."
"But what about when we go to our island?"
"Jolie, if we're the only ones there, we won't need passports. It's not like there's going to be any immigration or TSA people waiting for us."
She thought about that and said, "Well, there could be processing en route."
Good point.
"Here's the thing. I thought about getting a passport in case I needed to flee the country or something--especially during the Bush years. I filled out all of the paperwork, but I hated how my picture came out. I went to a different place and got my picture taken again, but I didn't like that one, either. I put the passport application aside and when it was almost ready to expire, I got my photos retaken. They weren't any better than the previous ones, so I threw them away and shredded the application. That's why I don't have a passport."
This vacation, I had a budget of $50 for the entire two weeks. That kind of puts the whole passport issue into perspective.
On a related note, I've been taken aback by the number of people who suggested camping as a vacation activity. Oh my god, why do people camp? I can't think of anything worse for a vacation, except for ending up on that show, "Locked Up Abroad." Camping? Seriously? Outside? Where there is either no bathroom or one I would have to hike to in the dark when I wake up in the middle of the night? Plumbing. Without 21st Century plumbing and electricity, trust me, it won't be a vacation.
Frank will only travel to countries where English is the first language. I will only travel to places with good plumbing and modern bathrooms.
Perhaps this explains a lot about why we don't travel.
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