Lizzie on Location

West Texas is a Whore in Sheep’s Clothing

March 30, 2010
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Had I never driven through west Texas I would have said that the entire world is wrong about Texas and that it was the greatest place on Earth.  In reality, Eastern Texas is pretty awesome.  Western Texas takes away so many cool points from the rest of the state though that Eastern Texas rates as a 3 out of 10 because they are in the same borders.

Reasons that west Texas is a whore:

1. The entire 600 miles of it is a police state.

2. The entire 600 miles of it looks like “The Hills Have Eyes.”  At best.

3. The police are hyper active and think they are gonna be the next Steven Segal.

4. NOTHING is open past midnight.  Not even the drive thru daiquiri place.

5. There is a daytime speed limit and a night time speed limit.

As it turns out, you have to drive through the western portion of Texas to get to Arizona.  Here is how my drive went down:

The night time speed limit is 65, the daytime is 80.  Ummmmm yeah, kind of a HUGE difference.  I figured 73 was a nice medium right?

At around 10:30 pm I get stopped for speeding by the Texas highway patrol.  The officer gave me a warning, but here are the best quotes to come out of his mouth during our roadside interaction:

“Sweetie, things are a lot different here in west Texas.”

“Austin is full of fruit loops.”

“Don’t worry, you weren’t going all that fast, you just gotta slow down at night.”

So, I slowed down….. until I stopped at a rest area in the middle of nowhere and realized that I was standing in the middle of the set for “Texas Chainsaw Massacre”, “The Hills Have Eyes”, and every other scary ass, inbred themed, attack and kill outsiders movie I have ever seen.

I get back on the road and decide I can speed my way to the next town to get a hotel cause fuck this place at night.

(There were random fires burning along the way.  Like bum fires, you know in the big metal drums and such.  But NO people around.  Nothing. No houses no lights.  Just barrel fires.)

Just as I hit my comfortable speed of 73 again, whoop whoop!!!!  That’s the sound of the police!!

Well, after my first experience with the Texas Highway Patrol I decide I am not worried because they were so nice.  All of this was about to change….

I get pulled over by the K9 unit.  I see the badge on his uniform as soon as he walks up to my car.  He leans into my car to start questioning me.  Mind you, I have been pulled over at least 20 times.  I mostly know my rights and I definitely know when a cop is going to fuck with me.  His body language starts our relationship off on the wrong foot.

He begins asking me the normal questions but quickly makes the decision to pull me out of my vehicle.  I play dumb, like why would he want to do that?  But I comply, what else am I gonna do?

He begins asking me very unrelated questions to my being pulled over.  Some of them were:

“How do you afford to drive across the country?”

“Please give me the names of the people you have visited and locations of every place you have been.”

“Is you car actually registered to you?”

And finally the real reason he pulled me out “Do you have narcotics on you?”

I answer all of his questions honestly and he asks me if he can search my car.

I respond with “Officer I am not 100% sure of my rights here, but I think I can tell you no, so no you can’t I would like to leave.”

At this point he explains that he will have to use the drug dog to find whatever it is he thinks is in my car.

He hands me his flashlight and says “you need to look for bugs and snakes around you feet.”

I freak out of course and ask him why on earth he would have me out here in this.  To which I receive no response.

Him, his cop friend, and the dog search my car and of course find nothing.

At this point he realizes my story is legit, I am NOT actually a drug mule, and he just keeps saying over and over with a perplexed look on his face “I just don’t understand, I can smell narcotics.”

I am released and I immediately get a hotel and stay off the roads until daylight.

Here is the problem with everything that has gone down with this story.  First of all, I am not saying that drugs are good and should be transported all over the country.  However, we as citizens have effectively voted in a police state where the cops can do whatever they want based on their word.  He SWORE up and down that there were drugs in my car.  He had the right to search me, but as a citizen I had no rights.  That is not the way I want to live.

Further more, in Texas and New Mexico, we have now given the border patrol the right to pull EVERY SINGLE CAR on I-10 over to pass through a border inspection.  Now, I would like to point out that while I-10 runs very near the Mexican border, it doesn’t actually cross it.  As an American citizen, driving across AMERICA, I am forced to pull over and be subject to a search of my vehicle if they deem it worthy.  And they can destroy your car and have no repercussions for doing so.

The border patrol has more rights than any other police force.  They can do whatever they want whenever they want because they “protect our national security.”   And we as citizens have signed off on this as being ok.  It is not ok.  If you didn’t cross a border, you should not run into the border patrol.  And although I understand all the awful stuff happening with Mexico, I can’t help but wonder how many brown faced American’s get harassed at these forced inspections for no reason except their genealogy.

Texas is a down low whore.  Everyone suspects she has a couple illegitimate kids and herpes, but no one really knows.  Until they date her and the truth comes out.  Well it turns out Texas is a whore in sheep’s clothing, fun as shit at first but will leave you alone and diseased by daylight.



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The Sacking of Northgate…. Didi Mao!

March 30, 2010
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Northgate is the neighborhood my friend Ashley lives in.  It’s the bar district for Texas A&M and has everything you could hope for in a Texas college town bar area….. ok not everything, cause there is no Menas (What up MSU!!!!!!!!)  But as far as looking for all the different kinds of places you would want for Texas it has em.

Top Thing’s I like about this area:

1. It has a bar named “Daisy Dukes; Young, Wild, and Country.” hehehe

2. There is a bar called “The Dixie Chicken”

3. The student population considers many of the bars in the area to be “Shot Bars.”  Places where you go in for a shot and move on.  You could feasibly do a 20 bar pub crawl if you wanted.

4. EVERYONE is nice.  Even the “club” staff.

5. I never paid more than $5 for ANY drink.  2 beers at the Dixie Chicken?? $4.50.  Fuck you DC.

This night was not without eventful happenings.  It kind of all started with a random comment during the day about the “Deer Hunter” and the saying “Didi Mao!!!!!!!”

It ended in a shit show.  With a few phrases controlling much of the party.

Here are the highlights:

I announced myself at every drinking establishment we frequented by yelling to/at no one in particular “Heeeeeeeeeeeerrrreeeeeee She Cooooommmmmmmmmeeeeeeessssssssss!!!!!!” In my best Joe Dirt.

I made it rain on a bartender.  A man bartender. It may be the only time that happens to him ever.

At one point Ashley and I were feeling particularly good about ourselves and our sheer genius humor.  However, there was one boy whom didn’t seem to be laughing with us.  I decided I could probably change that, so I hit him for Jesus.  Here is what went down:

Me: “Hi, do you have a good sense of humor?”

Boy: “I like to think so.”

Me: “Well, we’re about to find out.”

Boy: “Uh, ok.”

Me: “Who loves you more than your momma?”


Me: WHAP!!! I hit him on the forehead like an Evangelical preacher healing the blind on TV church! And simultaneously yell out “JESUS DOES!”

At this point his jaw drops and the bar goes silent.  Really, there was a random 1 second pause in the music and the bartender and Ashley were the only two to drop their jaws in shock…. before they burst out laughing.

In that moment though, the look on Ashley’s face was priceless.  She was really worried that I had hit him not for Jesus and that he was going to hit me back or something to that affect.

The boy as it turns out did not think it was that funny.  I explained to him that if he laughed it meant he had a great sense of humor.  But he declined.  His only response to any of this was “I will not be letting that happen again.”  And here I thought Texas was pro Jesus.

I ran into people who know my people…. all the way in MI.  Crazy.

College Station= Awesome.

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TEXAS – The Land where everything is bigger?

March 26, 2010
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My whole life I have been semi intimidated of Texas.  You just don’t hear about the good stuff, and there is always craziness being shown on the TV.  So let me tell you how surprised I was to find out how nice and friendly everyone was and how few people had a Joe Dirt accent… Well at least in College Station.  That was a BIG disappointment.  Not the nice people part…. the Joe Dirt part.

College Station, Texas is the home of Texas A&M and the George Bush Presidential Library and Museum.  I had never visited a Presidential Library before and figured this was as good a time as any to do so.  I took a few hours one afternoon to visit the place and here are a few fun facts I picked up on the way:

1. There aren’t any actual books at this “Library.”  There are archives or whatever, but the general public isn’t allowed in so….. kinda gay.  (The information center explained that there are books in the building, but none that patrons can check out.  I felt like saying no shit Sherlock.)

2. The museum is a history of the President, his wife, and their families on top of their political and professional careers.  The exhibits are comprised of personal photos and allow you to get an intimate view of the man behind the title.

3. This particular museum is completely interactive and is one of the coolest museums I have seen in the world.

4. They promote the First Lady’s story.  Her family, life, work, and opinion are thread throughout the entire museum and even include a section just on her life’s work.  I love to hear about the women behind the men.

If ever in College Station, I suggest checking this out.  The entire museum is interactive and there are a TON of really cool personal items and world memorabilia.  There is a Situation Room that debriefs you about the Gulf War.  A CIA section that scans your handprint and “finds you with a satellite.”  A room dedicated to his time in the war that takes the shape of a ship.  The exhibit is really elaborate and well put together.  Basically, it’s cheap, it’s really interesting and it’s important to know our Presidents history… Regardless of if you share their political views.  I will be going to as many of these as I can along the way.

'Ol GB waiting for a mate to have coffee with?

A mini White House in the First Lady's Reading Room

A piece of the Berlin Wall

The interactive room used to tell the story of the Gulf War

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Detroit’s Sister City… Kind of

March 26, 2010
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New Orleans…….

A Steamboat on the Natchez River

This was my first time ever going to New Orleans.  I was there for 3 hours and it may have been the best 3 hours of my life…… well not really but it ranks.

The French Quarter

If you have never driven into the city, then you probably have never experienced the following drastic changes in landscape within a short distance.  First of all, when traveling I-10, you drive over Lake Pontchartrain.  The now infamous destructor of the City.  It’s pretty huge and scary to drive over after you realize that a fucking hurricane decimated the area a few years ago and there are four bridges running concurrently, but only two with traffic on them.  I couldn’t help but wonder if I was driving like 20 God damn miles over a lake on the pre-hurricane bridge.  Oh and it was like 40 degrees with 30 mph winds.  So maybe I was being a baby; don’t judge me.

The landscape can only be described as “Urban Swamp” when viewing the outline of the city.  (I did not make this up btw, but it just describes it so perfectly.)  It’s like podunk ass bayou with little fisherman crack shacks sprinkled along the way…. and then the high rises of New Orleans.  Crazy.  I would have taken a picture but didn’t really want to kill myself or others.  Them hillbilly’s drive HUGE trucks and do like 85 across the bridge.  They’re all like “Heeeerreeee I Cooommmmmmeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!”

The city proper can only be described as this:

Post Katrina New Orleans is a spitting image of Pre Hurricane Detroit.

To be perfectly honest, only the neighborhoods and some buildings downtown look as bad as Detroit.  The French Quarter and most of the high rises look significantly better than Detroit. However the scars of the hurricane really are still there, even today.  It’s hard to believe that either place can exist in the USA in the dilapidated condition these cities are in.

The French Quarter however is one of the coolest places I have ever been.

Bourbon Street New Orleans

I parked my car and layered up for my solo adventure through the city (remember it was like a Michigan winter that day.)  I was fired up on adrenaline and red bull and nearly shaking from excitement when I crossed the street from the parking garage and low and behold there was Mos Def!!

Now, many of my closest friends know that I have had a serious crush on Mos for years now.  However in the heat of the moment I was unable to relay this message.  I was so dang excited all I could say was “Oh my God!  Mos Def? Wow!  I just got into town!  This is amazing!”

He was not nearly as impressed, but was nice.  I explained to him I was on a cross country road trip and that I was a huge fan.  We chatted for several minutes on the street about his work and how cool I was.  And then we had a steak dinner.  Hehehe.  No.  That is definitely not how it went.  I word vomited on him, he declined to take a picture, told me safe travels and went on his merry little way.

I cheesed for like 10 minutes as I roamed the streets thinking how cool I was.  Turns out I am one of like 7 people I know whom have met him on the streets.  So in the end not only did Mos Def not think I was that cool, but neither did my friends. HAHAHA!  Fuckers.

Remoulades home of New Orleans best bartender (Morgan)

I wandered the streets of the French Quarter mostly people watching.  To Go drink bars line the streets and the entire French Quarter is a massive continuous bar/restaurant.  Crawfish, Boudin, and Oysters are offered at almost every place and Po Boys are a staple menu item.  As I was only staying for a short time I made the point to save room for food, but wasn’t able to partake in the drinking as much as I would have liked.

The resident PFK in my life “Chou Chou” made me promise to try as much food as possible while I was there.  I went to a restaurant called Remoulades and ate their red beans and rice.  I make it at home and love it.  My friend Tala makes it for me and I love it.  And to be honest, I was not in an adventurous mood to try new and exciting foods.  This is God Damn Lizzie on Location not Anthony Bourdain’s bizarre food bullshit.

I had no destination in mind and Remoulades had patrons, but wasn’t packed.  A good sign for someone like me who refuses to wait in line but still wants a place that serves mostly edible food.

The bartender there is named “Morgan the Salad Eater” and is awesome.  She was friendly and helpful and I actually stayed longer cause the conversation was so good.  She was informative about the hurricane and passionate about the impact it had had on the surrounding environment.  Most people know that the food and beverage of a place is what puts you on the map.  But the service is what brings people back time and again.  At the end of the meal I had felt like I made a friend not just been served a meal.

A most likely gay southern gentleman sat at the bar while I was there and that is where “Morgan the Salad Eater” came from.  He was named William and happened to work for Delta.  His name soon became “William We Fly the Friendly Skies.”  I say most likely gay because while he didn’t come right out and say it himself, it was not unreasonable to assume that he was.   When he spoke it was like a southern belle.  Yes I was a tad jealous.  They both tried to convince me to stay the night and we would go party.

I instead walked along the river on my way back to my car so that I could continue my journey to Texas.

The Natchez River

The Green Monster... or at least that's the nickname I gave it

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The Redneck Riviera

March 25, 2010
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Oh Panama City Beach, with your gorgeous sugar sand beaches and your awful spring break crowd.

I visited my Aunt and Uncle in PCB as my last stop East of the Mississippi.  (kind of)

It was refreshing to see what the region had to offer besides partying, beaches, and golf.  And yes I know, why else would you go there?  lol

Well, it turns out there is a theatre with a local production company that performs throughout the winter.  I accompanied my Aunt and Uncle to a Gospel inspired play and was surprised at how talented everyone was.  The community is small enough that most of the people knew each other; my Aunt and Uncle included.

We also went to a GREAT Irish pub called “McGuires.”  This place was phenomenal.  Good food, good service and a fun atmosphere.  They serve drinks in Quart sized Mason jars (that you can take home) called “Irish Wakes”.  The pub is a microbrewery and serves only their beers.  As I don’t like microbrews usually, I definitely was interested in the potent liquor concoctions they offer.  All of the drinks and food are very reasonably priced….. maybe not if you live in BFE.  But if you live in the DC area, WOW!!!

The decor is fairly typical for an Irish Pub…. minus the 900,000 One Dollar bills that are stapled all over the walls and ceilings of the restaurant.  They also serve the original bean soup recipe served in the Capitol Cafeteria.  The “Senate Bean Soup” sells for 18 cents with the purchase of something else.  That’s the original early 1900’s price. (It’s delish.)

The beer taps at McGuires

Finally, the restaurant’s bathrooms are labeled for the opposite sex.  As in “WOMEN” in large font with “do not belong in here” in small font for the men’s and vice versa.  They actually had to fight the law to keep these signs up.  They can be very misleading!!!

The sign for the LADIES restroom

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St. Paddy’s Day

March 25, 2010
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Johnson, Candace, and Ang

Oh St. Patrick’s Day in all your drunken glory!  I consider this holiday to be the season opener for Spring party time.  On this particular day I spent my time and money in a bar in Naples.  My bromo Johnson at my side and Angie gracing us with her presence, we rang in the Spring Party season with old friends like Jameson.  And new friends like Candace and this gross blueberry beer.

The highlights were a 6 foot tall leprechaun and the really confused looks I got from bartenders when I demanded “Irish” vodka.  Some people just have no sense of humor.

Big Ass Leprachaun and a girl in a green tux tee shirt

As far as my ST Paddy’s usually go, this was semi low key.  No one got offended.  No one got in a fight.  And no one puked.  Oh and everyone made it to work on time the next day!  I would consider this a success!

On one last and final note  about Naples, I had to take this picture.  It’s my friends apartment complex.  The play ground next to their building:

This is what the poor kids of Naples are forced to play on!

Hehehe.  But when you turn around and look on the other side of the street you feel less bad for the neighborhood kids:

I think they forgot to move the rules sign after all.


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Na Na Na Na Naples!!

March 17, 2010
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Birds of Paradise in my friends backyard

Naples.  Could be another word for money.  Because it seems to flow like water here.  I have never in my life seen ocean side compounds like there are here.  And yes, they are compounds.  Car dealerships offering posh brands like Porsche, Bentley, Aston Martin, and Rolls Royce in a one-stop-shop setting (wood grained dealerships of course.)  😉  If you are not in love already, but want to be, and you like money, I suggest you come to Naples and find one of these old money grandchildren.  Even the guest houses are suitable for a modest family of 5.

JP and Little Chuck on the longboard

The sugar sand beaches and mangroves are a great backdrop to enjoy the surf and wildlife in luxury.  However, the sun is very strong here.  Most of my trip has been spent recovering from a few hours at the beach. 70 degrees with an (unknown to me) UV rating of 9 is very misleading in an alcohol haze.

Best Tan Line EVER

There is also a large portion of Michiganders here in Naples… so you know most of the people are pretty awesome even if the nightlife is lacking at best.  The daytime is when Naples is really off the hook.  lol.

Sweet Angie enjoying a day off in the sun!

Naples.  A bunch of people living the dream.

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Key Largo and the Everglades

March 17, 2010
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I realize that posting everything at once totally defeats the purpose of a blog.  But between living life and working to pay for life I just don’t have nearly as much time to blog as I would like.

My time spent in Key Largo and the Everglades was minimal.  I mostly wanted to drive to the keys to say I did it.  It’s also somewhat convenient to do on the way from West Palm Beach to Naples.  It also offers the opportunity to drive straight through the Everglades on Route 41.

Key Largo was not nearly as impressive as I had hoped.  Beautiful yes.  But 64 degrees with 25 m/h winds on the day I went and not nearly as scenic as I had hoped.  However, I am doubtful that I had enough time there to truly enjoy it and therefore may need to go back some day.  I was able to find a tiki bar ON the water very easily and they had great friend conch.

The Everglades however are one of the most impressive landscapes I have seen in my life. There are huge birds everywhere and it’s like being in a water desert.  There are very few to NO signs of human life for miles.

I was able to experience a sunset in the Everglades.  It really is one of those life experiences that can’t be properly described in words or pictures.  The desolation, wildlife, water, and Mangroves combine to make it an almost spiritual event.

Because of the cold weather driving through the glades with my windows partially down was possible.  I learned this is not a usual event because of the hummingbird sized bugs that are usually present.  It was also cold enough that there were no gators on the roads…. Part of me wishes there had been.

Once darkness falls on the Everglades it’s another world.  Especially if you are by yourself.  Shortly before exiting the Everglades I experienced a serious patch of anxiety and fear. You must remember that it is complete darkness.  There are no lights except from passing cars.  There are signs all over for Panther crossings.  When you come up to something on the side of the road, you just never know what it is.

As I was exiting a defined Panther crossing area (they last for like 5+ miles at a time) I saw an animal in the road.  It was dark and there were shadows across the road from my car’s headlights.  The said animal darted across my path (close enough for me to slow down for safety and curiosity purposes) and just as I decide its too small to be a panther (must be a house cat?) I get a good look at its hindquarters while it slips through the guardrail.  It’s back paw and leg are far thicker than any house cat I have ever seen.  And there are no houses in the area. hmmmmm.

I would like to take the time now to state for the record that I am not saying I saw a panther.  I am not saying I did not see a Panther.  All I am saying is that there is a possibility that I saw a juvenile panther while in the Everglades.

So, now I am alone in the dark and excited at the possibility of having seen a panther but also a little scared at the possibility of having seen a panther.  I continue driving and consider the possibilities of who to call about this.  But my battery is low and I have no idea how much longer I will be in the Everglades.

Next thing you know I am passing a huge ruffling mass on the side of the road, my nerves are so high I literally jumped in my seat…. just to be scared by a fallen Palm tree.  This is when I realized that I am scared and want to be out of the Everglades.  I also decide that I need to make a phone call regardless of battery life.  Just as I pick the phone up I see a sign that says “Naples 16 miles.”

Let me tell you what, there is nothing more refreshing to the soul when in a minor state of terror than seeing a sign that other humans are not far away.

The Everglades should be experienced by everyone in my opinion, even if it is just to drive through.  Apparently there is an additional 25 mile loop road that delves even further into the Everglades.  I will probably make a point to find this road and take it one day…. when I am not alone or in the dark.

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Oh South Beach…..

March 17, 2010
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This will end up being another one of those stories that will make my mother cringe (so mom feel free to skip if you want)…. Probably not because its so bad… as she just worries about me.  And I understand why. hehehe

My Thursday began as most Thursdays do.  Working hard to fund my lifestyle.  On this particular Thursday Facebook informed me that one of my friends would be in South Beach this weekend….. hmmmmm.  I am only an hour and a half from Miami I thought to myself. And Sara and I had planned on taking a trip there anyway…. So I began to consider my options.  Well turns out Jeff was in South Beach for his sisters wedding so he was going to be a vagina for the weekend (understandably.)  But that was going to have no bearing on me.  Sara and I agreed that we could probably get Jeff to put his big boy pants on if we told him in person.  And if not, well then it was a girls night.

Palm Beach Gardens is approximately 1 and 1/2 hours from Miami by car.

That’s approximately enough time for me to get my own big girl pants on in the form of vodka and in this case cranberry.  It’s now 11pm and I am a little buzzed and in Miami.

Sara and I searched for parking as we had no plans on getting a hotel room, nor did we plan on paying top dollar to park.  We of course are able to find a parking lot, with big temporary “Parking” signs tied between permanent city signs that say they tow 24 hours a day.  Sara and I are smart enough to inquire about this clearly dodgy parking situation and were assured in Spanglish that we could park there for 24 hours for $20.  We offered $14 and they took it.  Questionable at best.

The next six hours involve being relentlessly stamped for age verification, drinks with floating shots, drinks with gay names, drinks with boys, drinks with girls, and finally the realization that neither of us were going to be driving.

At this point we have options, none are great, and we are just short of stumbling through the streets.

Option One: Pay 300$ for a hotel room.  This was a lot harder to do in our alcohol haze than we thought. And it was 5 am, check out at like 11am.

Option Two: Sleep on the Beach. Ummmmm no. (it was really cold)

Option Three: Stay in one of the random dudes rooms we met. Again, no. (Date Rape or real rape is easily avoided by never choosing option 3)

Option Four: Have Sara drive us 70 miles home. Again, bad idea.

Option Five: Sleep in the car.  Ding Ding Ding!!  We have a winner!

As it turns out, sleeping in the car ended up being our best option for the following reasons:

  • When we arrived back at our car, the parking lot had “magically” returned to a 24-7 tow zone like the signs stated at the entrance. Luckily we got to our car and drove approximately 22 feet to a legal parking spot on the street before getting towed. (a tow truck woke us up towing others from the lot shortly after we moved.)
  • We did not waste $300 on a 4 hour nap in a hotel room.
  • We did not get raped.
  • No one got a DUI.

To be honest we did try to get a hotel room.  But neither of us had 300$ in hotel fare in our budgets.  So we stumbled the 7ish blocks back to the car…

On the way we found a pizza place open at 5ish am.  We found it because some guys we had met earlier in the evening (I presume) yelled out “Cosby” like ten times till I finally realized that, he was yelling at me.  They gave us pizza and we continued on our way.  Next we stumbled into three bullfighters from Spain.  I swear to God this is truth.  Here is the picture to prove it:

Getting cloaked out with a bullfighter

Finally, within that 7 block 1 hour journey, we ran into someone else whom “knew us” by our last names 4 different times.  Each time on a different mode of transportation and with a different comrade.  Coincidence? I think not.

Now I have slept through classes in my car numerous times in college.  But in Michigan its cold, so you may wake up a little chilly, but otherwise ok.

Passing out drunk in your car in South Beach is the equivalent to being water tortured in the desert.  Yes, I realize this is an oxymoron, but it is and here’s why.  You will awaken covered in sweat where your skin is covered, not fun ever.  The exposed skin?  What becomes of that you may wonder.  Well friends, the exposed skin will be like chapped leather, all of the moisture evaporated by the sun.  And the cottonmouth you experience!  Oh the horrific cottonmouth.  I have literally never felt like a had been dried out like a raisin in the sun and laid to rest in a small puddle of fetid water before this.  I imagine sleeping in the gutter would offer a similar experience.

The three things to know about South Beach:

1. You will spend 10$ a drink no matter what you order.

2. Even fancy girl sandals are still sandals, its all about looks and not comfort in the dress code system.

3. If you need your hand to be stamp free the following day don’t even bother coming to Miami.  Their ink will remain embedded on your skin long after death.

And lastly, always remember: Safety in numbers.

flowers and stamps are tokens of S.B.

(Girls should only sleep in cars using the buddy system.  Oh and that isn’t just for Miami.)

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The Cultured Life

March 17, 2010
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It's me Lizzie Baby!!

Southern Florida has tons of activities for all kinds of people.  Often it’s overlooked that you can experience culture here and not just amusement parks and beaches.  Sara and I being the ever classy and cultured women we are took advantage of an overcast afternoon to wander around the Morikami Gardens in Delray Beach.

Japanese water feature/wishing well

It filled with water as I was taking pictures and deposited its contents in the process!

On a side note, the grounds also house the American Orchid Association.

The Morikami Gardens are traditional Japanese Gardens spread around a small lake.  The path weaves in and out of bamboo groves, through rock gardens, crosses onto multiple islands; one of which houses the Garden’s collection of bonsai.

Sara at the beginning of the path

Despite the weather and considering the cold winter this year, there were flowers in bloom.  Pretty sure there were some Azaleas in that mix, but the rest of the plants I couldn’t identify…. you gotta see them for yourself. 😉

Flowering Bonsai

The Bonsai were pretty spectacular as well.  They have a variety of trees, not just the typical junipers and maples you often see.  And there are a ton of different scenes and shapes.

The Bonsai planet

Finally, there is a museum and throughout the gardens are opportunities to learn about the Japanese culture.  There is even a reasonably priced gift shop (that happens to be terribly lacking in quality post cards.)  You definitely need more than an hour to tour the gardens.  But it can be done in half a day if you aren’t slow and gumpy about it.

Sara in the Tea House exhibit

Zen Rock Garden

Towards the end of the path

Ok, back to partying. lol

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To begin with, this is not for baby ears or the weak. By baby ears I mean people with sensitivity issues and the under 18 crowd. I am crass and if you are easily offended by my language and/or opinions and/or comments and/or behavior, you can get the fuck over yourself..... (sorry mom and anyone else who loves me but wishes my mouth was less filthy.)