Forward Planning

It's impressive but difficult.

I want to move one human across a distance of roughly 4,000 miles in the next year and there seems to be Shitloads (yes, that gets a capital due to the sheer amount of shit) to be checked out, planned, verified, signed, checked again, signed in triplicate with carbon copies and just generally organised.To those who know me: Organisation??? ME???I can barely get myself to work (although I'd like to point out that I'm always on time) without hassle. And that's just on the other side of the wonderful and pretty city of Cork.

God damn if we don't need to bulldoze some shit out of the way though; I'm not talking about park land or the wanton destruction of Ireland's natural beauty. I'm talking about shitty old housing estates and the like. That's for another blog though.I have to tip my hat to Eisenhower. He moved roughly 600,000 American soldiers across the Atlantic to Britain (and Northern Ireland) and they all got there.

However, Ike's boys in the planning office didn't seem to have to (a) contend with airport security (the bane of modern living) or indeed have only imaginary money to play with.I have lots and lots of imaginary money to piss about with.
The sky's the limit really.
The problems tend to arise when I want to use imaginary moeny in real life..... (oops).They also had a fairly broad and clear set of objectives.
Stage 1: Everybody goes to New York or Boston (WW2 buffs are welcome to correct me on the logistics so long as they do so politely)
Stage 2: Get on the godam ships, GI's!
Stage 3: Get off the damn ships in Britain, GI's!
Stage 4: Train and/ or sight see/ binge drink.
Stage 5: Invade Nazi Occupied France.
Stage 8: Berlin!

(Any historians will know where stages 6 and 7 went and why the Berlin thing took a bit longer than expected! And look it up yourself, I'm not your teacher!)

So far I have
Stage 1: See about going to New York and possibly a bunch of other places.
Stage 2: Look for flights? (I'm NOT going to Boston, Nevin!)
Stage 3: Eh, where am I going?
Stage 4: Seriously.... where? Just New York? Should I try DC too?
Stage 5: Shit! Hostels! I forgot about hostels! Er, or do I go with Motels?
Stage 6: GET ON THE PLANE DAVE!!!
Stage 7: What?? It can't be July already!! It can't! Oh..... bollocks!! Buggering bollocks fuck!
Stage 8: *cue panic attack*
Stage 9: Fatal dose of disappointment and/or Epic Fail.

I figure if I get the freaking out done and dusted now, I can look across the Nazi drenched battle fields of Europe and start seriously cracking into some planning that would make Operation Overlord and the D-Day landings look like a bunch of idiotic tourists getting razzed and somehow ending up in France.
If I can pull this off I might just be able to claim that I actually can organise a piss up in a brewery. Oh, and crack going to America (possibly solo) and all that jazz...

Incidentally, I'm not going anywhere near a jazz bar.I blame Donal's stories and Nevin's photos and Erin's suggestions for making me want to do something this crazy.

Thanks guys! :)