notes from the road
So... my desire to blog this trip has been sedated by text messaging Haley almost every second of the day. So blame her if there's an important detail you don't get because I've already shared it with her.The hotel I'm staying at in Savannah, GA has some soldiers on leave from Baghdad, and one plays the piano and sings Phil Collins songs. I know because the hotel has High Tea, and that's always a production. Also, if you wanted to know, it is entirely possible to press the pedals of the piano with combat boots.
The bartenders at the hotel in St. Augustine, FL, are totally fucking. Thought everyone should know. Andras (ESP) and Richard (USA), while Tomas (CZH) looks on with jealousy. And at the Casa Monica hotel, they make you wear a name tag with where you're from. Czech Republic rules the bars there.
Everyone in St. Augustine is Czech, Russian, or Polish. An international buffet of hotness, I assure you.
I saw a boy on the streets of Savannah who looked just like Lukas Podolski, except that he spoke Spanish. He was the hottest guy I saw on this trip, and that's saying something.
My parents are insisting that next year I bring along a friend. I am now officially accepting applications.
Saw UVA on the way down, fell totally in love. Tomorrow I must see Wake Forest and Duke, but I'm not really interested. I tried to get them to take me to Vanderbuilt (Nashville TN) and Emory (Atlanta GA), but that was met with enormous resistance.
Going to be in Winston-Salem NC tomorrow. Hope/know it's less of a shithole than Florence, SC.
Did a lot of piratey activities. Sailing on a schooner, eating at the Pirates' House, taking piratey tours.
Sonic has the worst coffee any human has ever attempted to make. EVER.
Photos will appear at sometime, somewhere.
PS- It is impossible to get a Pepsi or a drinkable cup of coffee south of Virginia. Except at the Rockin' Bean, St. Augustine FL. That place saved my life.
PPS- Everyone here refers to the Civil War as "The War of Northern Aggression." I call it "The War of You Douchebags Had Slaves and Thought You Could Be Your Own Country," but it never catches on. Wonder why.
posted by The Artist Formerly Known As "Katherine" @ 11:32 PM
3 Comments:
Name: Haley (Last name omitted due to online stalkers/crazy people)
Age: 5 months and 13 days younger than The Artist Formerly Known As Katherine
Education: Same as The Artist Formerly Known As Katherine's, with the exception of 7 years in public school, very similar to but not to be confused with Hell.
Orientation: Gay boys to look at, straight boys to date, but I haven't been able to find many of the latter.
Status: Single. Unless one counts the two gay boys I am currently a hag for.
Current work and capabilties: I currently work at a feed and agricultural supply store. I can [nearly] use the register. I like to go for the money, aided by the nice, cute boy that works downstairs in feed storage.
How I know The Artist Formerly Known As Katherine: We met in 7th grade when I was lost in a new place and lookin for friend to help me through (pronounced thruff) dark and lonely times. This is not to be confused with a John Denver song, because he did drugs and sang Christmas carols with puppets. We text each other fairly often (The Artist Formerly Known As Katherine and I, not John Denver and I), and we are both Generals in the Order of The Goalies. We also had fun times in history class with Mr. B and often discussed our need for gay boys during gym class when I wasn't being hit in the face with dodgeballs.
What I could bring to a family excursion involving The Artist Formerly Known As Katherine: My effervesence and generally optimistic attitude. I could make terrible Sonic coffee seem like an adventurous experience that one should need to pay for the right to even witness. I could also bring to the excursion my vast knowledge of broadway shows and obscure films, my lust for life (and for the nice, cute boy who works downstairs in feed storage), and my taste in boys, which is quite similar to The Artist Formerly Known As Katherine's if I'm not much mistaken. Also, my uncanny ability to scope out strangers that are fucking, as witnessed by The Artist Formerly Known As Katherine at Fenway, would bring quite an interesting element to the excursion.
Contact: Text message, e-mail, comment on blogger, facebook, myspace, or livejournal.
By the way, where did Andras end up hailing from? I'm very curious...
ACCEPTED!
...I mean, the committee will review your application and get back to you soon.
...Spain, I think. He was at another hotel without country of origin name tags.
I would like to add that I would love the opportunity to text with John Denver.
And you should probably ammend that to read: although we see strangers, they are not literally fucking at that time. We assume that happens later.
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