Monday, May 15, 2006

I live in Miami! Holy crap.



The first thing I heard when I got off the plane in Miami was a news report that an alligator had attacked a jogger, dragged her into a river, and dismembered and eaten her. They caught the alligator and found two arms inside. I live here now. Is this a sign?

My old roommate, Kathy, also a surprised transplant to Miami 7 months ago, took me on a grand tour of the area on my first real day here so I could check out the sights and see where I might want to live. She and her boyfriend, Wes even fed me delicious cuban food they cooked themselves, in their adorable apartment.

One of the things we saw was the beautiful Venetian Pool, a public pool built in the 30s to make good use of a quarry. I am going back there as soon as possible. I am on a mission to find pools and hopefully a pool with an apartment, and not the other way around.

We also toured a crappy apartment in an art deco building that probably used to be a nudist colony. It had a GREAT pool, though.

Kathy in front of Key Biscayne. I can't wait to go there. You can walk out in the shallow water and fish will swim around your legs.



Me, pale and about to get sunburned, on my first day in Miami.



I start my new job today. Holy crap.

Monday, May 08, 2006

End of the Journey, End of the Line


Nicole and I on our last day together on a relaxing urban planning boat tour of the DC waterfront.

Before I have a chance to finish writing the post, here are some of the rest of the photos from our trip.

Things have been nutty lately, as I made the sudden decision to move to Miami for a job. Anyone who glances at this blog will know how much I love my life here in San Francisco--my roommates, my friends, the natural beauty and quirks of the city and area. It's going to be a tremendous change, and a sacrifice for a secure future. It is absolutely not that I am not contented with what I have now. I know what I have, and I appreciate it and do not take it for granted. This is not an easy change, but a necessary one. You won't complain to see pictures of blue skies and white beaches though, will you? :)

A common sign throughout the south. Seriously, though, would you be at Texaco?



Raccoon Mountains in Tennessee. We camped there for a night and when we woke up I thought that was where "Where the Red Fern Grows" was set. I was wrong, but it definitely seemed like the right kind of place.



The Ocoee River. I want to go back. It was so beautiful. Around every turn was a whitewater opportunity, which I've never done before. Even at 60 miles an hour, the south struck a chord with me. A different culture from my own, and very different visually and naturally as well.



Nicole preparing one of our trip staples--peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches. I'm addicted, officially. We didn't eat fast food once on the trip. Except the near-daily starbucks run, if you can count that. Or that one chocolate milkshake. Come on, cut me some slack. I'd eat KFC in a second. But the grape jelly was too good.



The Great Smoky Mountains



Nicole celebrates tulip season when we reached Virginia.



One of many striking sunsets.



Cute house in Abingdon, Virginia.



Gratineed scallops at an old restaurant in Abingdon called the Tavern. Built in the 1700s (?), the floors are slanted and the place has a presence all its own.



Exterior of the Tavern. The moss growing down the roof isn't quite visible here.



A real campsite we stayed in in Virginia along the river. We were the only non-RV campers. Canadian geese were honking over head all night. A lady in an RV from New England offered us some coffee and then told her husband in a stage whisper laden with a new york kind of accent that we were "gutsy".



Prettiest gas station rest stop ever, where we frolicked. There's video to prove it.



Dogwood in bloom in Virginia.



Picturesque farmland.



The 19th century garden cottage where Nicole will be living. SO cute.



Photos from my 30 hour first trip ever to NY.



Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Bohemians in the Recovering Land of Hedonists



(I wrote this right out of New Orleans a little over a week ago).

New Orleans architecture and lifestyle is amazing, but the evidence of Katrina is everywhere, from the piles of trash, furniture, and rotted wood lining the streets to the FEMA trailers parked in front yards on most blocks. When on the highway, most of what you see is blue from the tarps covering people's roofs. Certain parts of the city definitely got hit a lot harder. Roofs are torn off and windows are completely gone. Buildings are empty and abandoned. There are spray-painted messages on a lot of houses, from just the date and a code for whether people and animals were inside, to aggressive warnings to looters that the owners were still inside and armed with guns. We saw a couple of abandoned rowboats on the side of the road, right in the middle of the city. Lots of rebuilding is going on, but certain areas are so devastated that they are like abandoned ghost towns, especially right outside the city.

My friend from UCLA, Shalini, who hosted us, goes to Tulane law school and flew back to LA right before the hurricane hit. She just returned in January, to a new apartment since her old building was condemned. They have a sign on their front lawn that states that they are proud to have returned to New Orleans.


The house to the left of theirs is condemned:


Their neighbors on the right are living in a FEMA trailer in front of their house (there are lots and lots of FEMA trailers):


The first floor of my friend's building is uninhabitable from water damage.
The brown in the bushes of this house across the street shows how high the water got in her new neighborhood; about 4 feet:



She told us a lot about the situation when she first came back, months after the hurricane and water had subsided. She told us how when she came back she shopped for groceries at Walgreens and wherever she could get them and that people were basically sweeping everything off the shelves if there was food. How most restaurants still don't stay open very late because they run out of food. How sometimes the trash doesn't get picked up for a couple weeks. She said it all so matter-of-fact, and also mentioned that she hasn't heard a single person whine or complain about what happened or their current lot.

There's a lot of pride and a sense that people are taking a lot of it in stride and with humor. We saw a lot of people wearing t-shirts that said, "New Orleans, Proud to Swim Home". Apparently a lot of people dressed up for Halloween last year as blue tarps or FEMA trailers. Katrina was pure destruction, but while people might be crying on the inside, some have turned it around and are laughing right in its face. Shalini told us about a recent parade that had floats for "Mandatory Ejaculation" and "Katrina Blew Me " and "Gimme Some Good Levee".

There is also some apprehension, however, because hurricane season is coming soon and things aren't even cleaned up or repaired from last year. People are worried that with the hot weather, another big hurricane is coming in and are afraid that the repaired levee will give way yet again.

For me, someone who had never seen New Orleans before, even through the destruction and the trash the architecture and beauty of the city were beyond anything I could have imagined. I've never seen anything like the swamp:



or the wrought iron details on the houses in the city:



I wish I could spend a week there. Shalini took us out to Jaquemo's restaurant near her place, us riding on each other's laps and one person sticking their whole upper body out the window for the ride, getting a lot of yells, since we only have two seats in the jeep that aren't completely packed with stuff. The restaurant was cajun and fantastic. We had alligator sausage quiche and amazing fish.

The bar next to Jaquemo's and the restaurant itself:




Alligator sausage quiche:



The next day we went to the French Quarter and Cafe du Monde for beignets and cafe au lait.



The French Quarter was not hit at all by Katrina and it was the busiest place we saw in the city. The rest feels a bit empty. Everyone was dressed up in their Easter best. One bouncer outside a bar was yelling "Damn, Lent is over, let the sin begin!"

Mid-day it was time to go and we left to head for Tennessee.

On our way out we saw blue tarps everywhere:



Uprooted trees all along the freeway on the way out of New Orleans for miles and miles.



Rows and rows and rows of uninhabited FEMA trailers outside New Orleans.



PS

On our way IN to New Orleans, we drove through the amazing swamp at dusk. I've never seen anything like it. Truly a beautiful and amazing natural place, with the trees growing straight out of the water. I was driving through the evening and Nicole, sleepy, asked if it was raining. No, in fact, it was just tons and tons of bugs bouncing off of the car, sacrificing their lives to our journey. Occasionally a huge one would bounce off the windshield, which turned out to be a Palmetto bug (flying cockroach). Nicole stuck her arm out the window to feel the rain of the bugs and said ow, ow, ow, ow, OWWWW! when a palmetto bug hit her hand.

What the bumper looked like just after the swamp--this is ONLY from the swamp.

Saturday, April 15, 2006

The Cowgirls from Bohemia


(House in Bisbee, Arizona)

The first shower since Wednesday (and first motel for the trip) and how does it happen that you get soooo dirty? Hmm, well. We've been sleeping wherever we can find, first at a friend's in LA but then on the side of a desert freeway and next in a wilderness area, also on the side of a road, both of which of course have chaparral as your vanity, and a bottle of water as your sink. Dirty, yes. Awesome, also yes. We drank beer and slept under the full moon and listened to the last truck drive down the freeway for the night. A lonely cow came and found us and mooed when she heard our voices.

Our air conditioner, which we weren't using in the first place because the jeep is Nicole's moving truck and loaded down like you wouldn't believe, officially stopped working on us at all somewhere in New Mexico. We are hot and with the windows rolled down, I've got trucker's tan/burn on both arms. Most of what we've driven through on this trip is desert. It's been 80 and 90 degrees the whole way. It's nice, for a change. The landscape is shocking. We can not imagine what it would have been like to be a pioneer and not driving 75 through three states of desert. We have decided that the Oregon Trail game was probably accurate concerning how often people died. At least the way I played it.

We've seen a lot of rabbits, a roadrunner (!), a ton of deer in Texas, an ostrich farm, and lizards. We've stopped in LA to see a band with my friend Andy, Joshua Tree to see the wildflowers blooming and one (and only one!) Joshua tree. We've been to Tombstone (yuck), Bisbee, Arizona (randomly great hippy community, where we saw the most amazing couple--a cat leashed to a dog that would jump on its back and ride), and all sorts of wilderness areas characterized by Saguaro cacti and cholla bushes (my mortal enemy, stemming from an unfortunate brushup in the mojave desert during high school--they shoot their barbs). We drove past the metal fence lining the US/Mexico border. Yesterday we went to White Sands Monument, an expanse of white sand dunes composed of gypsum, right in the middle of a US missile range. The road to White Sands is often closed to move top secret weapons. The place was mind-blowing. The roads through the center are cleared with bulldozers like snow plows. We made angels in the powdery sand and ran up and down the dunes. I took a lot of White Sands with me to Texas.

We're outside San Antonio now and have sang the few lines from the Texas song featured in PeeWee's Big Adventure about 50 times. Nicole and I got over being sick of each other on the second day. We have not run out of things to talk about. And when we have, a cop wearing a cowboy hat or a billboard reading "Take someone else's name in vain --God" fixes that right up.

We see fewer and fewer California plates and I'm definitely starting to feel different. And lucky. Oh, so lucky. To grow up and go somewhere like Tombstone high school surrounded by open desert must be quite a different experience.

We leave for New Orleans today.

Some photos:

Gas station in California. The sign says, "This recreation area is for the enjoyment of our customers." We enjoyed that tire, buffalo, and cop car to our heart's content. Nicole humped the cop car.



Wildflowers in Joshua Tree.





Lookout in Arizona, over the desert and many many saguaro cacti.



Ocatillo plant



Nicole at the Steak and Western Restaurant in Buckeye. It featured steaks, Greek, and Mexican food and it was awesome.



White Sands