What is that mysterious ticking noise?

(New Orleans, LA)

The night after Miami, Josh’s parents took us out to eat a delicious seafood dinner at a marina that overlooks the intracoastal waterway. Amazing food, and lots of fun getting to know the fam. (photo below is me, Katie, Kristina, and Josh at dinner)



That night we went out with some of Josh’s friends, ending up at a bar/club called Respectables, where this I guess pretty popular DJ, called DJ Deekline, was spinning. Normally I don’t get too excited about DJs, but this one was awesome, and we all got really into the music. I got a lesson on the difference between breakbeats (Deekline’s musical genre), dub step (apparently the most popular type of music in south Florida), and techno. They all sound really similar if you don’t pay attention to certain things. Even now I don’t know if I could pick out the differences. Also, I learned that techno originated in Detroit – who knew? Anyway it was cool to get a taste of these newer types of music, and a great change of pace to dance to.

We were completely spoiled by all the fun and creature comforts we had in West Palm, but we did have one temptation strong enough to draw us away: The Wizarding World of Harry Potter, the newest addition the Universal Studios Islands of Adventure theme park. This was the one and only activity that Katie and I were willing to completely splurge on during this trip, and it was one hundred percent worth it. We got up at 6 a.m., drove to Orlando, and proceeded to unleash our shameless obsession for all things Hogwarts. We visited Hagrid’s cottage, went shopping at Ollivander’s, Zonko’s, and Honeydukes, checked out the hot guys visiting from Durmstrang, and ate dinner at The Three Brooksticks, of course topping it off with a couple of butterbeers:


The best part by far though, was the main attraction – a ride called The Forbidden Journey, that first, while you are still in line, takes you into the Hogwarts castle, where paintings talk to you and Harry, Ron, and Hermione (in the form of a pre-recorded hologram) cast a spell that makes it snow on you in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Then you actually get to the ride, which simulates you flying on a broomstick, playing Quidditch, getting chased by a dragon, and nearly falling victim to the wrath of the womping willow. If you let yourself believe the illusion, it feels so real. I was beside myself with joy. If the wait to get on the ride hadn’t been two hours long, I would have gone on it a hundred times.

Luckily Katie and I were not the only crazy Harry Potter nerds on the pilgrimage to Orlando – on the highway on our way out that evening, we ended up driving behind this car that was painted with the words “Orlando or Avada Kedavra!” We made friends.

Will Smith Did Not Lie

(New Orleans, LA)

Sorry for the delay in Florida stories. We've been really limited on internet access for a little bit. Anyway...

This past Tuesday, after a couple wrong turns yielded an accidental tour of Miami’s projects, we – myself, Katie, Josh, Kristina, and Josh’s friend Brad – arrived in South Beach just in time for happy hour. We indulged at the first bar we passed, Finnegan's, an “Irish” pub, although the only Irish-y thing about it was its name and shamrock logo. Happy hour ended at 7, and our next stop was naturally the beach, to use up the last fading rays of sun. We ran for the waves (except Kristina, who has a fear of water levels over her head), and the water was warm and wonderful. We splashed and swam, dove in and out, tossed a frisbee around, etc, until the sun went down, then set out to conquer the South Beach strip.

Another round at Finnegan’s, then one at Wet Willie's, which served a super wide variety of fruity slushie rum drinks. They gave free samples, so that was good enough for us. We then moved on to our final destination, Mango’s, where everything really kicked off. The place itself was like 5 forms of entertainment mashed together – At some points, girls in super revealing, blacklight-glowing costumes (think: neon orange thong leotard with knee-high furry boots, for example) danced on the bar, at others, other more tastefully dressed dancers did Michael Jackson-esque routines, and still other times, the same variably clad performers sang with a band, usually doing a short set of some kind of salsa or latin music. There were two dance floors, separated by the main bar, and a second level that overlooked the whole scene. Drinks were expensive ($8 for a Bud Light, $11 for a vodka soda) so I kept to water. No one knew the difference anyway because we all took to the dance floor and let loose regardless.

I got a much-needed refresher course in my salsa and bachata skills – surprisingly from some Italians, not Latinos. Apparently there are a lot of Italians who grew up in Miami, and they all learned to dance at a young age. Or maybe that’s just the kind of place we were in. The five of us managed to befriend a good number of people, from a couple of completely toolish guys who were so shocked that my purse wasn’t a designer brand that they offered to buy me a new one, to a middle-aged couple that were exceptionally open with us about the great sex they still have, to the brilliantly inebriated Roberto, who took to Kristina quite nicely. We danced until our feet might have fallen off, and before we knew it, it was 5 in the morning and the bar was shutting down.

Beach time, round two. We were the first ones there, still in the dark, and we ran in again, even happier to be there than we’d been the first time. We stayed until it got light. I didn’t draw the connection to the Will Smith hit of my childhood until I started to write this, but we really did party in the city where the heat is on/all night on the beach til the break of dawn... lol. It was so satisfying, and I’m so glad I got to experience it with three of my closest friends.

That morning was also the U.S. v. Algeria world cup game. With all our best intentions, I don’t think any of us were awake to see it. In my opinion, the sacrifice was worth it.

More Florida stories to come, and photos!

Miles Behind Us, Thank God for Satellite Radio

(West Palm Beach, FL)

We thought Nashville, with its abundance of boot boutiques and country twang, was a decent introduction to the south, but we really dove in during the drive to Florida. In Grundy County, Tennessee, Katie picked up a county newspaper. The headline stories: one meth lab bust, and a prison revival where 21 inmates were “saved,” and the jail experienced a shift to a Christian atmosphere. The sports section highlighted a “fishing rodeo” event where essentially some local kids got together and some fished, and some didn’t, and they all had fun. A fascinating article. We spent no more than an hour driving through this county, but just reading the news made me feel like I knew what it might be like to live there. Slow and simple, but not without troubles.

Georgia treated us well – we did not sample peaches or pecans, but we did camp in a cute little RV park. We broke out the camping stove and MacGyver-ed a lovely pasta dinner for two by Coleman lamplight. We are so cute. Only problem was we had no utensils to eat with except plastic knives. Good thing I spent so many years eating Sunday night spaghetti dinners at Camp Lakewood, when we weren’t allowed to use silverware. My skills at eating pasta with my face and fingers are expertly honed.

The next day, we made it to West Palm Beach, where we found Josh and Kristina (friends from AU) sipping Coronas on Josh’s front porch. It took no time at all to feel like we were back in DC, hanging out at someone’s place with some beer, a little music, and a deck of cards, figuring out our plans for the night. Except here there’s a view of palm trees and the noise of Josh’s parrots yelling “Hello” from his sunroom. I felt immediately at home.

We went out that night to a strip of bars by the pier, listened to some live reggae and later walked down by the water, stopping a few times to swing on park swings. We stayed out late, but it was a calm night. We were saving ourselves for Miami…

… to be continued… =)

Ramblin'

(Nashville, TN)

The first song that came on the radio when Katie and I drove out of Saint Louis yesterday was “Ramblin’ Man” by the Allman Brothers Band. We took that as a good sign. Can’t believe it was only yesterday.

Before we left I showed Katie around my wonderful hometown. We hit the Arch and Grants’ Farm, and we saw a Cardinals game. The best part was how shocked Katie was at the giant mass of baseball fans. I think it’s a significant point of pride that every properly raised Saint Louisan loves the Cardinals, win or lose.

Now in Nashville we’re staying with a friend of Katie’s from high school, Sarah, who has a grown up job doing PR for some pretty big names in country music (including Zac Brown Band, one of my favorites). She took us out last night to her favorite bar called Dan McGuinness, and from there we went to the main downtown strip, Broadway, on our own. A quick rant: Tennesseean boys need to apply the less is more rule to headwear. Apparently they never take their hats off (baseball caps, cowboy hats, and the worst, visors) even if they’re in a bar and the sun set 5 hours ago. Every single one had something on his head. They look ridiculous. Our favorite was wearing a khaki visor upside-down and backwards. How old are you?

Anyway we explored downtown, encountered a very unenthusiastic bachelor party, and listened to some karaoke singers who were actually so good it was intimidating. Had so much fun, and today was even better. Live music starts in most places along Broadway at ten or eleven a.m., so this afternoon we went down again to wander and hear some bands. At the second bar, Legends Corner, we managed to make friends with the band, whose lead singer taught the bar patrons to Holler (yell) and Swoller (aka swallow/take a drink of your beer). They made sure everyone in the bar paid attention to us, I guess because we were the only single girls under age 40 in the place. At one point Katie accidentally told the whole bar her name was Peggy. I made King of the Hill jokes for the rest of the day.

All in all, nothing beats a free beer and listening to a live Johnny Cash cover at three p.m. on a sunny summer afternoon.

The Plan

(Saint Louis, MO)


After four years of working hard and making great memories in DC, I earned my degree and faced the "What next?" - Job? No. More school? No. Instead, I chose:

1. Post-graduation, move back in with mom and dad in STL. Reconnect with family and old friends. Spend as little money as possible.

2. Mid-June, leave from St. Louis on a cross-country road trip with my housemate from AU, Katie Labarre. Take Katie's truck south to Florida through Tennessee and Georgia, then west through the southern states and end in California. Again, spend as little money as possible.

3. August 4th, fly from San Francisco to Mexico City. Spend about 6 weeks volunteering, teaching English classes through an organization called AMEXTRA.

4. Make my way, somehow, to Bogota, Colombia, to intern with Witness for Peace (a US-based NGO that does political/human rights advocacy in/for Latin America) for about two months. Do NOT run out of money.

5. Mid-December, come home in one piece, immediately devote life to paying off debt and re-adjusting, again, to the American midwest.


I made this blog to help me keep in touch with everyone I'm leaving behind, and maybe those I'll encounter. I have no idea what's coming - very little of the plan is set in stone. I kept it that way on purpose.

Katie gets here tomorrow, and the trip begins!