Washington, D.C.—Done in Buffalo, we’re off to the Nation’s Capitol, Washington, D.C., and beyond. Here’s how it went:

6:00 a.m.: Did I mention that I’m a princess? Well, now I’m on the Cinderella bus. OK, wrong Cinderella. And considering that KhoMha laughed at me in the morning, because I looked like I’m in an ’80s hair-metal band, this is more fitting.

Yes, I’ve been sent to the crew bus for tonight, since KhoMha and I need to get to D.C. before Markus, who has a second show in State College first. I thought I’d be singing the Cinderella hit, “Don’t Know What You’ve Got (Til It’s Gone),” but this bus isn’t the scary, dirty-roadie place everyone made it out to be. And, this means that dad is away, so the kids get to play!

4:00 p.m.: I wake up during what must be an 80-point parallel parking job, but I gotta hand it to the driver who’s navigating this 40-foot bus that’s also hitching a trailer. I finally got some sleep during the long drive from Buffalo to D.C. I took a top bunk this time, and almost fell out again. If there isn’t going to be a safety sleep-belt, at least install some kind of “oh-shit” handle! Also, I think only tall people should be in top bunks; That’s too far to fall, and plus, I have to climb up like Catwoman to get to bed.

5:30 p.m.: We check into a Holiday Inn Express for a shared “shower room,” with a note from the tour manager: “Keep it clean, you filthy animals.”

When I’m on solid ground, I feel like I’m still moving on the bus. Markus said, “I haven’t stopped moving in seven years!” It’s not pleasant. Luckily, I’m not nauseated. However, I so have a headache. My sinuses are going crazy from three nights of fog machines, with so many left to go; My carpal tunnel is acting up from all of my blogging…. I’m still happy as hell. This just calls for some sun salutations as soon as I have a minute.

I try to rush KhoMha to get ready, so that I can show him the glory of our nation’s capital, but he doesn’t seem to understand. We run out of time.

9:00 p.m.: The doors are opening at the expansive warehouse-style venue that is Echostage. Chinese food is delivered to me at merch, where I spend my last night helping out with sales, enjoying the usual random visits from strangers:

“It’s ‘unicorn slayer.’ How do you have an alive unicorn on the shirt? I’m not buying an alive unicorn.”

“Ohhhh you’re from Vegas… So I’m the one from boring D.C. Do you tour all over the world, or just the U.S.? Well, you have to make a living somehow…”

Someone says they used to buy records from Plastik back in the day—Markus’ old record store in Arizona, where I spent some time as a manager and buyer. A couple people ask if I know who the blogger is, and I feel cool.

12:00 midnight: I can feel my leg hairs vibrating against my jeans. Yeah… Bus tour hasn’t really given me the time to shave.

4:22 a.m.: KhoMha and I move our things back to Markus’ bus. Markus has his first drink of the tour: some red wine out of a blue Solo cup. We get goofy and all chant, “Hotel, motel, Holiday Inn!” a few times, and I check my tour bus headstand off of my bucket list. Markus ditches us for a hotel room, while the rest of us crash on the stationary busses, and I endure yet another night of insomnia.

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12:00 Noon (aka Sunday morning): We have a day off, so it’s time to be tourists, and we couldn’t be in a better location.

2:45 p.m.: Markus recites the “I Have a Dream” speech at the very spot where its history was made. A few moments later, a black man proposes to a white woman on the steps. I burst into happy tears at the significance. Inside the Lincoln Memorial, KhoMha is rendered speechless.

3:20 p.m.: We reach the White House, where our Colombian transplant exclaims, “Oh my God, I can’t believe that I’m here. I’ve only seen this stuff on Discovery Channel!”

M Machine boys banter amongst themselves, “Can you smell what Obama’s cookin’? …Freedom, with a glass of cold hard justice.”

6:30 p.m.: Time to hit the road to Charlotte…