tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48184934610472285482023-11-16T13:32:13.749-05:00American WanderlustUshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788986655839237997noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4818493461047228548.post-29512565860641163632011-04-13T22:25:00.001-04:002011-04-13T22:46:58.460-04:00Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!I live here now. I've only lived here, this place - Irish Channel, Garden District, Uptown, New Orleans, the motherlovin' BIG EASY - for three months, but I live here.
This city is awash in afterglow now, post- Mardi Gras, post- St Patrick's Day, post- tourists washing up with the tide in their breastbaring expectations and green t-shirts a week later, their staggering and beads, their Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788986655839237997noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4818493461047228548.post-29754067135988709052010-12-03T16:04:00.006-05:002010-12-03T17:12:42.072-05:00Cleveland and Everything AfterThe hills slowly gave way to an interminable flatness. Route 86 west, straight west, as the crow flies, swooping south only slightly enough to avoid driving directly into a Great Lake.We found ourselves in Cleveland a few hours after sundown (given that the sun sets around 4.30p nowadays) and stopped at The ABC Tavern, an unpretentious hipster-slash-old regulars joint with an open kitchen and Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4818493461047228548.post-71773290087558034652010-11-26T20:13:00.004-05:002010-11-26T20:35:13.872-05:00Fear And Loathing In Binghamton, New YorkVisiting one's hometown often serves as a reminder as to why you left in the first place. Binghamton, sadly, is no exception. Sure, there were high points -- spending time with my kids, working in a kitchen again, seeing old friends... But the routines are the same. No new friends made. Nothing's changed. The spiedies don't taste quite as good as I recall. The bars are full of the same Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4818493461047228548.post-22483363591567006342010-09-28T13:30:00.007-04:002010-09-28T14:36:29.922-04:00The Low Country, part 2With very little money at our disposal as we try to save up for gas money, food, and necessities, entertainment becomes either creative or not-happening. And as Jen's been working like crazy lately between bartending at a biker bar and occasionally serving at a chain restaurant, I've mostly been sitting around watching 'Torchwood' episodes. Until our Netflix subscription ran out, anyway.So on Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4818493461047228548.post-68934058586916313972010-09-16T16:21:00.009-04:002010-09-19T03:24:28.082-04:00The Low Country, Part 1Charleston, SC, is Jen's hometown. We arrived almost a week ago, and the first thing Jen insisted on doing was visiting her old water hole, the Icehouse.As you can see, the liquor bottles are mounted upside down. These inverted racks cover the entire ceiling behind the bar (I'm estimating somewhere around 200 bottles), and the bartender uses a long glass tube to press up on a mechanism that Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4818493461047228548.post-10476363088339354542010-09-14T20:02:00.001-04:002010-09-16T22:24:15.144-04:00Maryland, aka Jen's First Camping TripWe had every intention of driving from Binghamton straight to Virginia, camping at a halfway point, and ending up in Charleston, SC, the day after. But Pennsylvania's a big effing state, and with a couple of stops it took a few more hours than expected. We stumbled upon a random park - Cunningham State Park, Manor Area - somewhere in Maryland and after having been frustrated by Virginian Ushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788986655839237997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4818493461047228548.post-51803540641902005612010-09-12T17:37:00.007-04:002010-09-16T22:24:37.525-04:00Binghamton, NYIt's always strange going home. I think it's possibly even stranger that I still call it "home" when I haven't lived there in a year, and won't be going back anytime soon. It's where I come from. Jen & I stayed about a week at The Commune - our tongue-in-cheek name for my friends Sean & Vicki's place, where at any given time there are 7-8 people meandering around. They are, by far, theUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4818493461047228548.post-68559397204589976072010-08-14T15:03:00.014-04:002010-08-14T15:28:16.403-04:00It begins on Walden Pond It’s a bit embarrassing. I’ve lived in the Boston area the better part of a year. I’ve unwittingly paraphrased, repeatedly, a line from Walden: “…I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life…” But until a few days ago, I’d never visited Walden Pond. I didn’t even know it was in Massachusetts. EvenUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0