The Farmer's Wife Family Restaurant, Ono, Pa.

I took my first trip to Pa., this past May. The Farmer's Wife Family Restaurant in Ono, Pa., is certainly worth mentioning. I was fortunate enough to find it with my co-workers one morning when nothing but a hot breakfast would do.

On the drive there, we passed several farms. All of the big red barns, black and white spotted cows grazing in pastures and corn silos reminded me of when I was a kid because I’d always wanted to grow up on a farm with cows, chickens and all things farm-y. If ever a place captured this childhood fantasy of mine – Ono succeeded by leaps, bounds and hay bales. Ono looks and even smells (thanks to the abundance of bovines) just like my farm-y, childhood daydreams.

As we glided over those rolling, Pa. hills in the truck I found myself feeling so relaxed and lost in my thoughts – thoughts I was actually able to hear now that we were so far away from the noise of D.C. Something unique to Pennsylvania are all of the stars – actually called “barn stars," that I noticed were displayed

on the barns and houses we passed by. Come to find out, barn stars go way back in history and have their origin in Amish tradition – which made sense, since Pa. has a huge Amish population. Traditionally, the Amish hung a barn star on a newly built barn or house. It’s kind of like a good luck symbol, similar to a horseshoe. Thank you, google.

At last we reached our destination – The Farmer’s Wife Family Restaurant. From the moment I

stepped through the doors, I knew this place would be a winner because I was instantly transported

back in time. The home-style digs reminded me of a restaurant my family used to frequent when I was

a child called Henry’s. Anytime a place can make me recall a good something, ANYTHING from my childhood, well, that's an achievement. The Farmer's Wife, like good ol' Henry's, exudes family friendly

vibes that can be felt from across the room. The beautiful homemade pies and cakes displayed in the

dessert case, a group of old men slurping their hot coffees and shooting the breeze, the cheerful and plump

waitress reminiscent of a favorite aunt – all of these things and more just make The Farmer’s Wife

Family Restaurant feel a little bit like home.

Looking at the menu isn't even necessary, but I glance at it anyway just to make sure they have what I want - my favorite. After confirming it's on the menu I order blueberry pancakes. “Apparently, it’s a blueberry pancake kind of day,” said the waitress. “It’s all anyone’s ordering today!”

As we wait for the food to arrive, the girls chat, but my mind is somewhere else – back in that kitchen where I imagine “farm fresh eggs” cracking on a heavy mixing bowl, heaps of plump, juicy blueberries the size of gumballs and the sizzle-pop sound of pancake batter hitting the hot, cast-iron skillet. I sip my coffee out of a small white mug and anticipate the first bite of blueberry pancakes.

Not a moment later, the waitress sets a hot plate of big, golden and fluffy blueberry pancakes in front of me.

Seconds later, I spread a generous dollop of butter across the pancakes that are dotted with large gooey

pools of hot blueberries. The golden butter glides – like a svelte ballerina pirouetting across a stage,

as it slowly spins and melts against the warm cakes. A moat of maple syrup forms around them and

completes this breakfast nirvana.

Every single bite was filled with blueberries – juicy, sweet and perfect. The bread is thick yet light and

fluffy with a hint of vanilla. Hands down, The Farmer’s Wife Family Restaurant has the best blueberry

pancakes I've ever tasted – it's heaven on a plate. They are so good in fact that I would be willing to make

the two and half hour drive from D.C. just to taste them again – and I will!

The trip to Pa. was a great chance to get away from the city for a little while. Ono, Pennsylvania was a welcomed retreat from the rush of traffic and hectic day-to-day city life. Everything slows down in Ono – to a nice gentle roll where thoughts can be heard; home can be felt – and tasted.

Ono, Pa. is a big oh yes.

"I Can See Your Nightgown" & Tout de Sweet

I actually slept in till 10 a.m. today. Ten!! This is a BIG deal. I haven't been able to do that in weeks. It must be the extra hydration (wine).

So, what to eat for breakfast? My brain tells me to throw some eggs in the microwave and call it good. Yes. The microwave - because I don't have a stove. It's difficult to have such a thing when you don't have a kitchen. You didn't think I just eat out all the time for the sake of blogging did you? While it does give me plenty to write about, this blog might have been a cooking blog if it weren't for the fact that I, the ROAMologist, have no kitchen and so I must forage the city for food to eat. I do enjoy it - almost as much as I love to cook. But, I'm getting off track now aren't I? Where were we? Ah, yes.

... my brain tells me microwaved eggs, but my HEART whispers cinnamon roll. Although I had fully intended to stay put in my bed all day, the thought of a yummy cinnamon roll stirs me enough to at least throw on some clothing over my nightgown and drive a couple blocks down the street to Tout de Sweet. It's only a six minute drive. I should be back in bed in no time!

I arrive. From the outside, it really doesn't look like much. Upon entering, I see it is very charming! It's the kind of place that makes you feel special simply by association. The colorful macarons, decadent looking mouses, tiny little cakes topped with berries all sit in the display case and make me feel       truly rich - and it has nothing to do with money. I enjoy fine things. Who doesn't? These tiny confections look very fine indeed. Fit for a Queen and here I am - in my nightgown. Suddenly I'm feeling a little self conscious as I wonder if anyone can tell I've just rolled out of bed, quite literally still in my pj's.

 I feel a tugging on my exposed night gown           (damn it).

To my left I see a little girl with brown pigtails staring up at me. It's me, when I was around 6 or so.

"I can see your nightgown," she says - I say.

"You mean our nightgown and don't be silly - that's not a nightgown. It's my shirt."

"No it's not," my younger self says to my present day self.

"My Mom never lets me wear pajamas out."

"You mean our Mom. It's not pajamas."

"Yes. It is."

"No it's not."

"Then why do you still have your coat on? Take it off then if it's a shirt."

Smart little terd she (I) is (am).

"No. I don't want to. Now run along and watch out for a guy named Bob in about 10 years OK?"

Proudly, because no one cares if I'm wearing a nightgown to breakfast, I step up to the counter and since there aren't any cinnamon rolls I order a raisin scone with grape jam and butter as well as a cappuccino. The lady at the counter is French.

What is it with all the French people in Bethesda? It seems there is a huge French population here. I'll need to start brushing up on mon francais so they can all laugh at my c'est terrible pronunciation! 

As I stand there waiting for my order inside this lovely establishment I pay no attention to the fact that everyone is properly dressed and I seem to be the only who has literally rolled out of bed to be here. I haven't bothered to shower and sleep is still in my eye. OK. So, maybe I am paying attention.

I take my scone and coffee to go so as to get back in bed as quickly as possible leaving behind me all sense of caring and now I truly do feel queenly - because "a queen can do whatever she damn well pleases" (a quote from Her Majesty, Mrs. Brown) and that includes wearing her nightgown to a pastry shop.

THE END

P.S. The scone and the coffee were AMAZING! I'll definitely be back for more sans nightgown.

Georgia Avenue Thrift Shop, Jetties, Cork & Fork

Why the hell does anyone wake up at 6:30 a.m. on Saturday when they don't have to? 

For the same reason they don't go to sleep when they need to -- because there are better things to do than sleep, such as roaming about the city to find a steal, a nibble and a delicious wine to guzzle      er       sip.

I start the day by showcasing on facebook my finds, from the previous day's treasure hunt at Value Village. THIS VV is hands down the best VV I've EVER seen -- and I've seen plenty. 

VV is a WALMART sized second hand store with everything under the sun (bad fluorescent lighting). This is the place to find everything you ever wanted but didn't know you wanted. It's also a great place to find things you would never want (lice, influenza, scabies, hepatitis). I highly suggest bringing antibacterial wet wipes, hand sanitizer and an air tight suit if you have one! 

I'm being mildly sarcastic as usual, but really I do recommend hand wipes because your hands will get dirty rummaging through everyone's used crap       treasures. 

That's another thing. If you really want to find something -- you gotta roll up your sleeves and be willing to get dirty. Treasures aren't going to always jump out and find YOU. Although, sometimes this does happen. Like this retro skirt that caught my eye as I was rounding the tight corners of the very small aisles that are always too crowded. I found this, or rather it found me, in the vintage section! It's a thick polyester cream colored skirt with gold threads in the pattern. It's funky and WARM (like me haha) for the winter. I love it!! 

Later, I hop in my car and by mistake find the Georgia Avenue Thrift Store. I have driven past this shop at least a half dozen times since I've been here. It's right across the street from the Walmart I shop at. However, I've never noticed it until today. 

It's in paris as I like to call this particular part of D.C. because of the giant radio tower thingy there which resembles the Eiffle Tower in Paris, France. Other than that, the area bares no resemblance. It's an OK part of town, but going there at night is perhaps something to be avoided unless one desires to sell crack, start hooking (or pimping) or something like that. 

NOTE: It's a fine place to be during the day unless you're participating in any of the aforementioned activities and then my recommendation is to wait until it's dark. 

I had a good haul from the GATS. Some very nice bath towels, a cool stool, lamp and shower curtain were among my many findings. 

Lets not forget the CD's! I never pass up the music section at a thrift store. I always find some oldies but goodies and also some artists I've never heard of that turn out to be surprisingly fantastic (or horrible). I recently bought an album by Gaelic Storm. I'd never heard of them before, but for 99 cents, why the hell not! It turns out they are awesome!! If you love Irish-y music with violins, fiddles and drums plus some great singing then I highly suggest you check these guys (and gal) out! So anyway, I bought Sheryl Crow, Dido and K.D. Lang albums as well as the soundtracks to Swingers and The Thomas Crown Affair (LOVE THAT MOVIE).

All of my treasures came to a grand total of 40 bucks. 

Shopping, especially rummaging at a thrift store, works up an appetite. So, I decide to head back to my part of town and see what interesting place I can find to eat at. 

Jetties on Farimont Avenue in Bethesda won my attention (mostly because it was closest to my parking space). They serve sandwiches, salads and soups. It's a laid back atmosphere with a beach-y kind of vibe. The reggae music was nice and almost made me feel like I was back in Diego Garcia. If it hadn't been for the 50 degree weather outside and the fact that I was covered head to toe in       clothing, I would have thought I was at the Yacht Club.  

I orde the Smith Point sandwich (they also have build your own sandwiches). It has roast beef, havarti cheese, thin red onions, tomatoes and horseradish sour cream on pumpernickel. Let me tell you, it was delicious! First of all, the roast beef was sliced paper thin as were the onions. All of the contents seemed to be one with each other as were the flavors! The horseradish sour cream was not overpowering at all (it sometimes can be) and the bread was fresh! The Pumpernickel, I must say, is a brilliant choice for this sandwich. It added to the symphony of tastes -- with the meat and the cheese, those tasty onions, that delicious horseradish sour cream! The Smith Point makes it's point -- SANDWICH PERFECTION is possible!! 

I finished my tasty sandwich and walked a little further down the street to find all kinds of shops and restaurants. This part of town really has a lot to offer and a quick walk-through gives me some ideas for my next adventure. 

It's been a long day, but before heading home I make one last stop saving the best for last - the Cork & Fork. 

As I step through the doors I'm a little overwhelmed by the wine selection, but only because all I know of wine is that I like to drink it. Beyond that, I'm clueless. A very nice lady who works there asks me if I need any help. I tell her, "I'm just looking       for wine." Brilliant, of course I am you idiot, I think to myself. I'm in a wine store! She must think I'm an idiot now. But then, she's VERY French (lovely and French), and the French think all Americans are idiots. Anyway, I confess to her I really don't know much about wine as if she hadn't already gathered that. She then asks me a few simple questions which were easy enough to answer even with my limited understanding of wines. 

"What kind do you like," she said. 

"Red." 

"What kind of food?" 

"No food," I say. "Just sipping." 

With that, she leads me to the perfect bottle of red wine. See. It's perfect. It has sunflowers on the bottle! 

She must have intuitively known that I, like my mother, choose my wine like I choose my books -- based on the cover, or rather the picture on the bottle in this case. 

As I part ways with Cork & Fork, and the lovely French lady, she tells me "Let it breathe and it will be fine. Enjoy Madamme." 

As I'm leaving I tell her "Will do. Thank you." 

Somehow, I don't think she was talking about the wine. 

Sarcastic Funny Hot Girls That Don't Know It With Wine

I've received several kind words about my blog from some of you. Especially since my last post which included a run-in with a well dressed 40-ish year old man who had the raging hormones of a 12 year old boy.

Things like:

I love your blog.  Please don't get murdered. Love, Mom and this one ...

"I regret to inform you that you are past due on your credit card bill" ... oops not that one.  I meant this one here ...

"You actually thought he just wanted to be friends with you?  BWWAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Nice blog." 

... and my personal favorite went something like this:

You should really be cautious around government employees. Remember that one guy ... Wiener?

I still laugh every-time someone says his name.

I'm touched by your care and concern and it's got me thinking. I should be "careful" as some of you have put it and I truly heed your words. It's best not to go it alone. Even if you are an experienced roamologist such as myself. It's simply more enjoyable to roam with a friend!

Today I saw this Facebook meme.

That's what I need! A lesbian lover! Haha, made you look. You guys are so easy. I couldn't resist. 

What I need is girlfriends, but unfortunately I don't know anyone here. I have several fabulous girlfriends whom I LOVE and you all know who you are, but alas, none of you are here in the same zip code. 

So, in an effort to meet some ladies here I have launched a new group on meetup.com! 

I credit my fabulous friend Lori, my inspiration for the genius title of the group. I can't wait to see what comes of the Sarcastic Funny Hot Girls Who Don't Know It With Wine Group. If you're in Maryland please feel free to join! Here's the link.

http://www.meetup.com/Sarcastic-Funny-Hot-Girls-That-Dont-Know-It-With-Wine-Group/

Hopefully, this will work. If not, I may have to grow a beard and stop bathing ... so I can roam without being accosted by creepy men. Until next time! 

My First Saturday Night In Maryland

The Maryland winter weather is in full force today as I sit at my desk to write what will be the first of many post additions to this, my oh so small but close to my heart blog of roam. Gazillions of snow flakes are coming down in a frenzy and it makes me especially happy since work was canceled because of it.  This now leaves me with plenty of time to do the things I didn't do, but should have done this weekend (laundry) ... and with the recent discovery of "available networks" in my building I'm able to get online and tinker with this, my blog, that is ailing at the moment because I've been neglecting it, but not without acquiring some interesting adventures since arriving in Maryland.

Oh where to begin? There's the lovely French bakery I went to for breakfast and then Guapo's, quite possibly the fastest sit down restaurant EVER, but I'd like to tell you about my experience at Seasons 52 which included, to my dismay ... a lot of tongue. I'll explain later.  

This particular adventure started out at Ruby Tuesday's. Now look, I know what you're thinking.  Ruby Tuesday's? I only chose to eat there because even I, one who loves to roam about and find something different, occasionally just needs an immediate "fix", as was the case this time.  I was famished and RT was the closest thing to me.

So, here I am sitting at the bar of RT where the service, food, ambiance and overall experience is mediocre at best. But, I'm hungry and thirsty and so it will do.

About half way through my dirty vodka martini in a dirty martini glass, my asiago peppercorn steak arrives and I begin carving away ... wait, no. That's impossible when I don't even have any utensils.

Excuse me Miss. Would you be so kind as to do your job and provide me, your only customer, with a fork and a knife, said my bold inner dialogue.

"Could you get me some silverware, please." That's what I actually say. "Thank you."

... I begin carving away.

Enter strange man with nice sweater and thick European accent 

He asks if the seat next to me is taken and I reluctantly tell him no. I wish he would just go away. After all, there are 20 other open seats at the bar. Why does he have to choose this seat? While I could use some company he is not what I have in mind. Ah well, I'll just scarf down what's left of my meal and be on my merry way.

I'm trying hard not to invite any social interaction from nice sweater man, but after a few meager attempts on his part I decide to humor him, but only after I've spied his government badge hanging from his pants pocket and decide he might not be a serial killer after all ... and if he is, well then he has impeccable taste in sweaters. It looks so soft. Cashmere perhaps? A serial killer with good taste? OK!

"Hi. I'm Laura. Nice to meet you."

We chit chat over his meal since I've already inhaled mine. I should note that he orders EXACTLY what I ordered. I discover that he's actually quite enjoyable for a government employee/serial killer with impeccable taste in sweaters and as it turns out, drink and fare ... if I do say so myself.

He buys me another drink and then invites me to come with him to a place called Seasons 52, a very nice bar and restaurant,"where we can have some cocktails and enjoy live piano right at the bar," he says to me.

At this time, I would like to say that my only interest in this man is of a platonic one. We're having good conversation and that is all I'm interested in. I assume he's only interested in the same.

"It's my first Saturday night here and I'm feeling adventurous so why not? Lets go!"

We finish our drinks and we're off.

I'm pleased to have made a new friend in this strange city where I know no one. I follow him down the street to this mysterious new place I've never heard of before. My roaming nature is enthralled to experience something new under such spontaneous circumstances! As I pull into the parking space next to my new government employee/serial killer friend in the nice sweater I can't help but think how exhilarating this is!

Finally, after meandering through the parking garage, up the elevator, across the street ... we step inside what I now see is the quite swanky Seasons 52. Somehow I think my green utility jacket and combat boots add a certain charm to the place. This is what I tell myself as I try to ignore the fact that everyone in here is wearing black, semi-formal attire and I know that I'm either attending a funeral or it might be that there is a dress code.  

gasp

I ask my new friend "Who died?"

He assures me that I'm dressed fine and we both proudly take our seats at the bar.

Seasons 52 is a very nice place. It's like taking a trip into another world ... an expensive make believe world where everyone has lots and lots of money. Oh wait. I'm in Bethesda. Everyone actually does have lots and lots of money ... except for me.

I scan the menu out of curiosity. Great scott!  This is not a cheap place to grab a bite and not even for a drink unless however you're Donald Trump and then I imagine this is the rich person's equivalent of Denny's. Oh well.  YOLO and I just got payed.

The bartender takes our drink order and promptly arrives with two glasses of 12 year old scotch per my new friend's insistence that I try it. I take mine on the rocks which normally would be socially acceptable for someone of my caste because we can only afford to drink the cheap stuff which needs some watering down, but I guess when scotch is old you're not supposed to put ice in it. I had no idea.

Looking around, it's a packed house and I can see why. This place has everything. Great food, by the smell of things, ambiance, good lighting, fancy people, live music, happy bartenders, a fireplace, and ... WHOA! Is that a tongue in my mouth?  That is a tongue, but it's not mine. Oh my god you've got to be effing kidding me. 
 
My new friend, has swiftly lodged his tongue in my throat. It all happened so fast. I didn't even see it coming. One minute I was admiring how clean and shiny the silverware is, not one single water spot that I can detect. Then the next I'm being french kissed my a government employee/serial killer in a nice sweater. How odd.

With his tongue still lodged in my throat I manage to mutter the first words that come to mind "I aaaa a oyrend!"

I pry myself from his grip ... and his lip lock. "I have a boyfriend!" I promptly get up from the bar. "Please excuse me. I have to use the ladies room." Then I make a beeline for the exit making sure that he isn't following me of course.

So, that was my short lived experience at Seasons 52.

It's was nice. Seasons 52, not the tongue. But, what a shame to have it end this way. I will return someday to enjoy this fine establishment and all that it offers ... with a side of caution, hold the tongue.  

No Such Thing As A Lone Star

It's a cloudy night. No. It's a cloudy, lonesome night. It's a lonesome night as I sit underneath the stars ... the lone star, the ONLY star not covered with these stinking clouds.  Yes. Smoke, from what is to be one of my last cigarettes ever so help me god, filters through my big mouth and into the air. I'm thinking about this lone star hanging in the black sky seemingly all aloooooone. How depressing! I just finished balling my eyes out (ok, I'm dramatic and slightly exaggerating) and this is how the universe decides to end my evening? Kick me while I'm down why don't ya. It's exactly how I feel at this very moment, alone, as a new place with new faces waits for me just days ahead. While this should excite me, and it does to a point, there is a certain amount of sadness and loneliness that comes with saying goodbyes to friends, a loved one. Uncertainty of the future shrouds my mind like these stinking clouds covering up all the other stars ... stars that I know are there, but seem to have disappeared, leaving just this one. Lonely. Star. Ugh, it's the perfect metaphor for my life.  Eek gatz!!  But, as I sit here, somehow this moment staring up at the this little star comforts me. It's like we're the only two who know what's really going on and while everyone else is tucked into their beds, we are sharing our dirty little secrets. Then, just like that, another star appears beyond the clouds. Way to ruin the moment, my mellow dramatic and slightly philosophical poor me moment!  I'm tryyyyying to wallow.  Jeez. The universe is clearly not on my side today. Or is it? Anyway, the lone star was never really alone. Although it's tempting to ignore this little slice of "Ah ha!" and continue my wallowing I just can't. The universe in it's strange and surprisingly simple way is handing me a golden nugget. Please don't make me spell it out. I don't do cheesy well. I think we all know what's not being said. Lets read between the lines!!! *sigh* The point is, things are not always what they seem and while it's lonely out there no one is ever really alone. UGH!! I said it ... it's so cliche!!  Alright, please don't hold it against me. The universe made me do it. Tomorrow, I'm off this rock, but tonight I'm off my rocker!! Holy hell I need to go to bed. It's late and I have an early start ahead of me. More later ... of a slightly less corny tone. Goodnight. 

10 Packing Tips

"Write something everyday." That's what they say on all of those websites with helpful tips for bloggers.

So, in an effort to do just that, I bring to you today ... drum roll please ... a list of packing tips. Lets begin.

Oh, but one quick thing ... although I'm not actually an expert in packing I do consider myself somewhat knowledgeable in this area because I've done my fair share of it.  Also, you should know that packing is something that I despise and so over the years I've tailored the experience to me in order to make it moderately enjoyable. These tips are easily adjusted to suit your own tastes.

DISCLAIMER: While none of these tips might actually help you get it all in the bag, there is a greater possibility that you will have fun getting it mostly in the bag.  

And so we begin ...

10 Packing Tips

1. Raise a glass, or five, of your favorite brew (I prefer red wine, boxed or bottled. It doesn't matter.) Sure there's the off chance you'll get a little tipsy, possibly forget to pack something, spill, black out or all of the above, but I assure you that this will make the experience so much more enjoyable. Cheers!

2. Press play. Packing is done best with a little entertainment mixed in. Pop in a movie of your choice! My favorite movies to watch while packing are any of the Indiana Jones movies which stir up a sense of adventure in me. Another packing favorite of mine is The Fugitive. That's what I watched last night while packing. Sometimes it's just fun to imagine you're a fugitive, wrongly accused of murdering your wife and on the run, while you're packing for a trip. It's just a coincidence that my favorite packing movies all star Harrison Ford and it has nothing to do with me having some weird crush on him since I was 12.

3. Pack flat. I know so many people who roll each clothing item or fold it meticulously, but this is going to take up a lot more space than if you just lay everything flat inside the suitcase or bag. You will save a lot of room. I know because I've compared both techniques and I always have way more room when it's packed flat. Another plus side is that it keeps things from getting wrinkled.

4. Whatever you do, do NOT try to save space by rolling your undies up inside your shoes (sneakers in particular). That is, however, unless you want your ass to smell like feet. I did this once and had to wear clean undies that smelled like dirty socks on a packed flight to North Carolina. It's extremely awkward when the passenger next to you says "It smells like feet" and you have to say "I'm sorry sir, that's my undies." It will only make matters worse when you try to humorously explain that it's because you rolled them up inside of your sneakers to save space in your bag. Some people just have no sense of humor and can't be troubled with such explanations.

5. Give it a day. This might sound odd, but if your bag is already brimming and you still have more to pack then just let it sit overnight. Things will settle and you'd be surprised how much more space this will give you to work with the following day. So will throwing it against the ground like a WWE wrestler body slamming his opponent inside the ring. And if that doesn't work ...

6. Buy a bigger suitcase! As someone who likes to be prepared for anything I would rather buy a bigger suitcase and still have everything I MIGHT need than pack lightly and not have something I do need that I would have had "if only I'd packed a bigger bag!! %$@#!"

 BONUS TIP: If you don't want to break the bank buying brand new luggage then stop by a thrift store. They always have suitcases that are very cheap and sturdy enough to survive most trips. Give it a good whiff before purchasing any used luggage. The last thing anyone wants is to smell like moth balls unless however you're Margaret Thatcher and then it's ok.

7. Eat! You've got to keep up your strength for hauling that huge bag around and showing it who's boss! Take-out is a great option. No fuss, no muss. Chinese take-out is my favorite when I'm packing for a trip. I had sweet and sour chicken last night.

8. Seal the deal! This part can be tricky especially for someone like me who packs mostly their whole life into three bags. This next phase of packing is what I like to refer to as the People vs. Luggage Zipper Olympics. It involves a lot of grunting, sweating and panting but it's not nearly as enjoyable as ...

... and while finally zipping that bag may blow your mind it will not have the same mind blowing effect as say... uh ...

While you will feel a great deal of satisfaction once you've sealed the deal it wont be nearly as gratifying as it is when ... er, um ..

You're Olympic Curling! GOSH!! What did you think I was talking about?!! Perv.

9. Well your bags are packed so now what? Scan the room for anything you might have forgotten. I rarely follow my own advice and that's why I can tell you I know what I'm talking about. I can't tell you how many times not doing the scan has not saved me ass or in one particular case, me scarf's ass. Some cleaning lady at La Qunita in San Diego is probably dusting tv consoles with it right now ... all because I didn't do the scan. DO THE SCAN!!!

10. Celebrate this accomplishment! Cheers!

Well, I hope you find these tips helpful and at the very least, entertaining. Otherwise, it's just another five minutes of your life you will never get back. Have a great trip!