A year-end letter from your favorite piece of luggage.
December 2024
Greetings and salutations, party people!
As 2024 fades into our collective rearview mirrors, I (the actual “Big Suitcase”) wanted to pen a quick holiday letter to provide you, dear readers, an overview of the past year as I saw and experienced it. After all, you’ve been subjected to her (the “Girl”) travel tales all year long, but let’s face it: I’m kind of a big deal and I’m the one lugging the literal weight on these adventures. It’s high time you heard my side of the story.
Believe me when I tell you the Girl dragged me from coast to coast this year, and I mean dragged. Whether for business or pleasure, that Girl milked every trip for all it was worth. Sometimes she’d be behind the wheel, tearing up the highways (like the lead foot she is) and “singing” along to her favorite Spotify playlists or diving knee-deep into the latest podcast or Audible book. But most of the time she took to the skies, rolling me from the parking garage with all the care and dignity I deserve…until I was tossed on a cold, grey conveyor belt, where TSA and baggage handlers treated me like their favorite WWE wrestler in a steel cage death match. And she just gleefully walked away oblivious to my peril. The horror…
We visited the Lone Star State multiple times with stops in Dallas, Fort Worth, Houston, and San Antonio. Naturally, no trek into the Metroplex is complete without a pilgrimage to Buc-ee’s – a true wonderland where you can buy BBQ sandwiches, fish tacos, adult bevies, or onesies emblazoned with that crazy beaver face all while fueling up your ride. Sure, they may boast about the “world’s cleanest bathrooms” but let’s have some real talk and address the true addiction: it’s those damn beaver nuggets. I can neither confirm nor deny that someone devoured an entire bag during a recent trip. But who am I to judge?
As usual, we made it back east to New York and Connecticut twice this year. Both trips were magical – because that’s what the East Coast does best. Sadly, our much-anticipated October trip got cancelled, leaving both of us heartbroken. I’ve already started campaigning to return in March 2025, but honestly, if you’ve never seen New York in Autumn, add it to your bucket list now. The foliage, the chill in the air, the overpriced pumpkin spice lattes – it’s everything you’d expect and more.
August, as you may know, is when the Girl usually flees the heat and humidity for the mountains, channeling her inner John Muir (“The mountains are calling, and I must go!”). But this year? Nope. She called an audible and dragged me to vacay in Clearwater/St. Pete during the most active hurricane season the Sunshine State has experienced in a while. Tropical Storm Debby made her grand entrance just as we were landing in Tampa. Let me tell you, shooting the gap between two massive thunderheads while the plane does the cha-cha is not for the faint of heart, or for suitcases with tender zippers. Fast forward to the end of the month, when we found ourselves in Vegas. In August, people. Who does that? Apparently, we do! Plot twist: it was HOTTER back home than it was in Sin City. Mother Nature, you remain an enigma.
Other escapades took us to Miami (fabulous locale for people watching), Salt Lake City (surprisingly delightful and friendly), Santa Monica and Los Angeles (go Dodgers!), and the always lovely Kansas City, MO. Pro tip: visit The Plaza and Union Station during the holidays – it’s the stuff by which December dreams are made. Fun fact: KC has been HQ of Hallmark for well over 110 years. How apropos during this most festive of months. Speaking of December, check out my new ornament hanging on the Girl’s tree. Front and center, I might add.
This is typically where the Girl provides her monthly Cautionary Tales and Helpful Hints from the Road. And boy does she think she always has some sage advice to share. I’ll leave it to her majesty to pick that back up next time she checks in.
Let’s see what 2025 has to offer us. Preferably something with less turbulence and fewer rough-housing baggage handlers. Maybe I’ll be seen sporting a jaunty little beret at some point in the coming year. Hey, a suitcase can dream!
Yours in adventure (and suffering),
Big Suitcase
Big Suitcase Girl 
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