Our plane came back a little early and now we're just going to relax in the airport until our ride arrives.
It was a fabulous trip, and once I can get WiFi and access to my laptop I'll share the end of it with you.
The plan now is to drive to DC with Claire and Tenzing over two days. We're all exhausted and aren't too interested in the torturous 14 hour drive to the East Coast.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Leaving
We've got a cab coming at 7am.
I haven't slept well. To be honest, I haven't slept much at all.
I've still got one day of pictures and a short story to tell, so I'll throw that up once we touch down in Chicago.
---
And Happy Birthday, Jamie!
I haven't slept well. To be honest, I haven't slept much at all.
I've still got one day of pictures and a short story to tell, so I'll throw that up once we touch down in Chicago.
---
And Happy Birthday, Jamie!
The King of Snails
As predicted, most of yesterday was spent indoors. It's important to remember that the central function of a vacation is to be enjoyable. Yesterday, we took great enjoyment napping all day.
After the rain let up, we started to move around a bit more but didn't accomplish much. We're fine with this. Our sloth meant that we only got one meal, but we hadn't exerted ourselves to the point where we required more calories.
And the hotel lamb was delicious.
After dinner, we strolled the path along the tram line. It was there that we met the King of Snails, his Queen, and the Slug Duke.
Like other legendary creatures -- Nessie, Big Foot, Thomas Pynchon -- all the photos we took during our court meeting with these royal gastropods were blurry at best. It was, however, an experience we'll carry in our hearts forever.
---
Today begins slowly as did yesterday. Our goal is to return to Djurgården and see the Botanical Gardens, the Vasa Museum, and the Biological Museum. The last of these I hope will provide some fodder for the Crappy Taxidermy blog.
Tonight's dinner will mark the end of our Swedish adventure, and we'll be flying out at 10am arriving in Chicago at Noon. After that, we drive back to DC over two days to preserve what little energy our transatlantic flight will have left us, and return to Virginia on Sunday afternoon.
---
After the rain let up, we started to move around a bit more but didn't accomplish much. We're fine with this. Our sloth meant that we only got one meal, but we hadn't exerted ourselves to the point where we required more calories.
And the hotel lamb was delicious.
After dinner, we strolled the path along the tram line. It was there that we met the King of Snails, his Queen, and the Slug Duke.
Like other legendary creatures -- Nessie, Big Foot, Thomas Pynchon -- all the photos we took during our court meeting with these royal gastropods were blurry at best. It was, however, an experience we'll carry in our hearts forever.
---
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
Today begins slowly as did yesterday. Our goal is to return to Djurgården and see the Botanical Gardens, the Vasa Museum, and the Biological Museum. The last of these I hope will provide some fodder for the Crappy Taxidermy blog.
Tonight's dinner will mark the end of our Swedish adventure, and we'll be flying out at 10am arriving in Chicago at Noon. After that, we drive back to DC over two days to preserve what little energy our transatlantic flight will have left us, and return to Virginia on Sunday afternoon.
---
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Going To Foreign Zoos
Short story: Claire and I napped and then went to Djurgården where we enjoyed the sites of the Skansen open air museum, and spent most of our time exploring the zoo.
---
Sleep has been an important feature of this trip, as I imagine it is for most trans-atlantic travelers. Today, I slept five hours later than I had the previous day (meaning that I woke up at an obscenely late 10:30am). Yesterday, I wound up taking a four hour nap.
This nap was vital to the events that followed since it gave both me and Claire the energy necessary to tour the expansive Skansen open-air museum on the idyllic island of Djurgården.
I would compare Djurgården to Belle Isle in Detroit, except much much nicer. The island boasts a series of museums and other attractions -- many of which are left over from a 19th century World's Fair that was held on the island.
Foremost among the attractions is Skansen, which I had assumed to be a massive sculpture garden of some sort. However, Greenfield Village at the Henry Ford Museum is a far more accurate parallel. Skansen has several old-timey attractions, and examples of old Scandinavian architecture dotting the landscape.
Skansen is also noted for having the only zoo in Stockholm. Though it is modest, it is also quite charming. We first visited the aquarium which was also where the designers decided to house several primate exhibits -- most impressively a room full of ring-tailed lemurs.
From there we drifted around the park seeing bears, lynx, european bison, wild boars, wolves, and "elk moose." Particularly impressive were some old farm steads set up with fences made of birch branches and secured with strips of bark. We ended at the top of a hill with a beautiful view of the city.
After a quick tram ride and walk, we ended our day with dinner in Gamla Stan.
---
It was a great time, but one that thoroughly exhausted us. Fortunately, today was a rainy day and we spent it sleeping and mooching around the island of Lidinö.
I took some time to add more photos and captions to the ones in the album, so enjoy the ones below and take a look back through the ones from earlier in the week as well.
We've only got one more day, but I'm certain we'll make the best of it.
---
---
Sleep has been an important feature of this trip, as I imagine it is for most trans-atlantic travelers. Today, I slept five hours later than I had the previous day (meaning that I woke up at an obscenely late 10:30am). Yesterday, I wound up taking a four hour nap.
This nap was vital to the events that followed since it gave both me and Claire the energy necessary to tour the expansive Skansen open-air museum on the idyllic island of Djurgården.
I would compare Djurgården to Belle Isle in Detroit, except much much nicer. The island boasts a series of museums and other attractions -- many of which are left over from a 19th century World's Fair that was held on the island.
Foremost among the attractions is Skansen, which I had assumed to be a massive sculpture garden of some sort. However, Greenfield Village at the Henry Ford Museum is a far more accurate parallel. Skansen has several old-timey attractions, and examples of old Scandinavian architecture dotting the landscape.
Skansen is also noted for having the only zoo in Stockholm. Though it is modest, it is also quite charming. We first visited the aquarium which was also where the designers decided to house several primate exhibits -- most impressively a room full of ring-tailed lemurs.
From there we drifted around the park seeing bears, lynx, european bison, wild boars, wolves, and "elk moose." Particularly impressive were some old farm steads set up with fences made of birch branches and secured with strips of bark. We ended at the top of a hill with a beautiful view of the city.
After a quick tram ride and walk, we ended our day with dinner in Gamla Stan.
---
It was a great time, but one that thoroughly exhausted us. Fortunately, today was a rainy day and we spent it sleeping and mooching around the island of Lidinö.
I took some time to add more photos and captions to the ones in the album, so enjoy the ones below and take a look back through the ones from earlier in the week as well.
We've only got one more day, but I'm certain we'll make the best of it.
---
 |
| From Sweden |
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| From Sweden |
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| From Sweden |
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| From Sweden |
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| From Sweden |
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| From Sweden |
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| From Sweden |
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| From Sweden |
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Best Laid Plans
Short story: We arrived at the boat landing very early and discovered that our tour did not exist. We then napped al fresco, and spent the rest of the day mastering the Stockholm transit system and bumming around the older parts of this beautiful city.
---
I got some pretty good pictures today. Here's the highlights:
When it was clear that our boat to Uppsala did not exist -- or if it did, it wasn't leaving from where we were -- we decided that the best course of action was for a break. Claire, her father, and I deposited ourselves on Ridderholmen island looking out at the beautiful city hall.
This is Claire asleep in my lap.
After resting, we went over to the Riddarholmskyrkan, final resting place of many great Swedish kings. Unfortunately, photography was forbidden. Inside the floor is covered with worn down smooth marble panels with the name of the monarch that rests below. Off to to the sides and below were great gilded coffins, holding whole generations of families. At the altar, two sarcophagi with carved images of kings reclined upward -- staring at the massive silver chandelier.
Use your imagination.
Next we sought out Grace's Tea Shop, but found a beggar fox-woman along the way.
Does anyone know what fairytale she belongs in?
Lunch at Grace's was excellent. It was a set meal of Jasmine tea, mushroom soup, steamed dumplings, and a fruit and yogurt salad. While a pretty traditional Chinese restaurant in Stockholm is an unusual find, stranger still was the price: 300KR total for the three of us. That's unbelievably cheap for a warming meal on a cool morning.
Our next task was to find the Central Station, and then to conquer the Stockholm rail system. Which we did. Bending the system to our will, we went out to the Historiska Museet to see the famous Gold Room.
Inside were shelf after shelf of Viking and medieval gold hoards. It was a very impressive collection, sadly not photographable. My favorites were easily a nicely preserved helmet with a horse-head mohawk that lead down to a tiny startled-looking head that rested below the nose of the wearer. There were also some belt buckles depicting battles with horrible monsters, which I adored. One of them seemed to show a man fighting a man/bear or man/wolf -- which I think to be a reference to berserkers. This might be the same one.
(linked from Wikipedia)
I wish I could have taken them all. Including the incredibly ornate crucipix with a "piece of the true cross" in it. I know it's fake, obviously, but I had never seen one of these famous relics before.
Then we did a little shopping in the trendy district, where I found all of 1997's websites.
With the rail system now under our thumb and obeying our every command we headed back to the old town island -- Gamla Stan -- and took in a meal of Swedish meatballs and reindeer. We followed this with ice cream, and some final wanderings around the old city.
Spot the 7-11!
HEY GUYS.
After using the Swedish metro rail system (which is from the future) we hopped the tram back to our island -- Lidingö. This was definitely a heavy rattling relic from days gone by, whose every noise just emphasizes the weight of the train. It was utterly charming.
And then, off to bed. Here's Chuck (father of Claire) and Claire outside the nicer end of our hotel.
---
Today, Claire and I will meander down to Djurgården, and spend the day in its idyllic splendor. We're taking it easy today.
---
I got some pretty good pictures today. Here's the highlights:
 |
| From Sweden |
When it was clear that our boat to Uppsala did not exist -- or if it did, it wasn't leaving from where we were -- we decided that the best course of action was for a break. Claire, her father, and I deposited ourselves on Ridderholmen island looking out at the beautiful city hall.
 |
| From Sweden |
This is Claire asleep in my lap.
 |
| From Sweden |
After resting, we went over to the Riddarholmskyrkan, final resting place of many great Swedish kings. Unfortunately, photography was forbidden. Inside the floor is covered with worn down smooth marble panels with the name of the monarch that rests below. Off to to the sides and below were great gilded coffins, holding whole generations of families. At the altar, two sarcophagi with carved images of kings reclined upward -- staring at the massive silver chandelier.
Use your imagination.
Next we sought out Grace's Tea Shop, but found a beggar fox-woman along the way.
 |
| From Sweden |
Does anyone know what fairytale she belongs in?
Lunch at Grace's was excellent. It was a set meal of Jasmine tea, mushroom soup, steamed dumplings, and a fruit and yogurt salad. While a pretty traditional Chinese restaurant in Stockholm is an unusual find, stranger still was the price: 300KR total for the three of us. That's unbelievably cheap for a warming meal on a cool morning.
Our next task was to find the Central Station, and then to conquer the Stockholm rail system. Which we did. Bending the system to our will, we went out to the Historiska Museet to see the famous Gold Room.
Inside were shelf after shelf of Viking and medieval gold hoards. It was a very impressive collection, sadly not photographable. My favorites were easily a nicely preserved helmet with a horse-head mohawk that lead down to a tiny startled-looking head that rested below the nose of the wearer. There were also some belt buckles depicting battles with horrible monsters, which I adored. One of them seemed to show a man fighting a man/bear or man/wolf -- which I think to be a reference to berserkers. This might be the same one.
(linked from Wikipedia)
I wish I could have taken them all. Including the incredibly ornate crucipix with a "piece of the true cross" in it. I know it's fake, obviously, but I had never seen one of these famous relics before.
Then we did a little shopping in the trendy district, where I found all of 1997's websites.
 |
| From Sweden |
With the rail system now under our thumb and obeying our every command we headed back to the old town island -- Gamla Stan -- and took in a meal of Swedish meatballs and reindeer. We followed this with ice cream, and some final wanderings around the old city.
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
 |
| From Sweden |
After using the Swedish metro rail system (which is from the future) we hopped the tram back to our island -- Lidingö. This was definitely a heavy rattling relic from days gone by, whose every noise just emphasizes the weight of the train. It was utterly charming.
And then, off to bed. Here's Chuck (father of Claire) and Claire outside the nicer end of our hotel.
 |
| From Sweden |
---
Today, Claire and I will meander down to Djurgården, and spend the day in its idyllic splendor. We're taking it easy today.
Monday, August 24, 2009
We're Here
Terms like "yesterday" and "tomorrow" and "today" have little meaning after a trans-atlantic flight and a 7-hour time difference.
---
Broadcasting to you from Stockholm, Max Eddy is back on the internet. Unlike our trip to Iceland, Claire and I have excellent wireless internet in the hotel and I'll try my best to keep you all up to date as to our adventures.
This will primarily be done in pictures.
---
Our adventures on Sunday were focused on the Carl Milles sculpture garden (conveniently located directly next to our hotel), and our dinner in downtown Stockholm.
Carl Milles will be familiar to anyone at the University of Michigan. Milles moved to Michigan where he made over 70 statues, one of which being the fountain of Triton between the Michigan League and the Hill Auditorium through which students process at the beginning and end of their academic careers.
You know, this one.
Stockholm is a beautiful city, and its a great time to be here. THe days are bright, the weather is on the cooler side of fair -- which is perfect for me. Despite being jetlagged to hell and technically having been operating for something close to a continuous 48 hours, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
Of particular note was the Prinsen restaurant. I don't know what I ordered but I got it in lieu of meatballs since they were out. It was small potato chunks with sauteed onions and delicious chunks of beef. The beef was tender, juicy, seasoned as if for a god. The potatoes were quite good on their own, but eaten with a fresh raw egg yolk poured over them. The effect is a really rich eating experience.
Keep in mind that I am not a fan of softboiled eggs, or even runny scrambled eggs, and I still thought this was delicious.
Also of note was the Underdog beer. It looks like a pilsner, but is in reality a Lager of some kind. When you take a sip, the initial flavor is very strong, similar to that of Guinness. The twist is that there's no finish to it; after that first burst of mouth-filling hop-flavor the beer finishes with a refreshing mild crispness.
Ba will be pleased to know that I sampled several varieties of pickled herring at the beginning of the meal, and loved them all.
Here's the image of the day for Sunday.
Click the photo for the entire album, or just click here.
Obviously there isn't much explanation right now. The idea is that I'll post a few pictures when able and backfill with information as I go.
---
It's currently 8am on Monday in Stockholm. The plan for today is to take the boat to Uppsala, stopping for a few hours in Sigtuna. We'll take the train back this evening.
---
Broadcasting to you from Stockholm, Max Eddy is back on the internet. Unlike our trip to Iceland, Claire and I have excellent wireless internet in the hotel and I'll try my best to keep you all up to date as to our adventures.
This will primarily be done in pictures.
---
Our adventures on Sunday were focused on the Carl Milles sculpture garden (conveniently located directly next to our hotel), and our dinner in downtown Stockholm.
Carl Milles will be familiar to anyone at the University of Michigan. Milles moved to Michigan where he made over 70 statues, one of which being the fountain of Triton between the Michigan League and the Hill Auditorium through which students process at the beginning and end of their academic careers.
You know, this one.
Stockholm is a beautiful city, and its a great time to be here. THe days are bright, the weather is on the cooler side of fair -- which is perfect for me. Despite being jetlagged to hell and technically having been operating for something close to a continuous 48 hours, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.
Of particular note was the Prinsen restaurant. I don't know what I ordered but I got it in lieu of meatballs since they were out. It was small potato chunks with sauteed onions and delicious chunks of beef. The beef was tender, juicy, seasoned as if for a god. The potatoes were quite good on their own, but eaten with a fresh raw egg yolk poured over them. The effect is a really rich eating experience.
Keep in mind that I am not a fan of softboiled eggs, or even runny scrambled eggs, and I still thought this was delicious.
Also of note was the Underdog beer. It looks like a pilsner, but is in reality a Lager of some kind. When you take a sip, the initial flavor is very strong, similar to that of Guinness. The twist is that there's no finish to it; after that first burst of mouth-filling hop-flavor the beer finishes with a refreshing mild crispness.
Ba will be pleased to know that I sampled several varieties of pickled herring at the beginning of the meal, and loved them all.
Here's the image of the day for Sunday.
 |
| From Sweden |
Click the photo for the entire album, or just click here.
Obviously there isn't much explanation right now. The idea is that I'll post a few pictures when able and backfill with information as I go.
---
It's currently 8am on Monday in Stockholm. The plan for today is to take the boat to Uppsala, stopping for a few hours in Sigtuna. We'll take the train back this evening.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Volvo Meatballs
Sorry to say it's still not quite time to talk about Tacoma. Funny how these things happen.
---
But who cares?! I'm leaving for Sweden tomorrow! Claire and I will reprise our roles as Sojourners to Scandinavia as we did two years ago in Iceland.
This will be my first time in mainland Europe, and as excited as I am (AND I AM), it does make me long for the lonely mountains and sky to sea horizons of Iceland.
But no matter. It's off to Chicago and then to Stockholm -- which I am told is the Venice of Scandinavia. The city is an archipelago, navigated by ferries and small boats. We'll spend most of our time exploring the city and its many islands, aside from a brief trip over to Uppsala. You know, just to be in Uppsala.
---
I won't be able to do much iPhoning (noooo!), and my WiFi is a mystery. I'll try my best to keep in touch, and am committed to sending postcards while I am there.
---
For fun, take a look at some of the distances involved with the trip. This will be the furthest I have ever been from home.
View Sweden Trip! in a larger map
---
I'm leavin' tomorrow after a half day at work. So long, for now!
---
But who cares?! I'm leaving for Sweden tomorrow! Claire and I will reprise our roles as Sojourners to Scandinavia as we did two years ago in Iceland.
This will be my first time in mainland Europe, and as excited as I am (AND I AM), it does make me long for the lonely mountains and sky to sea horizons of Iceland.
But no matter. It's off to Chicago and then to Stockholm -- which I am told is the Venice of Scandinavia. The city is an archipelago, navigated by ferries and small boats. We'll spend most of our time exploring the city and its many islands, aside from a brief trip over to Uppsala. You know, just to be in Uppsala.
---
I won't be able to do much iPhoning (noooo!), and my WiFi is a mystery. I'll try my best to keep in touch, and am committed to sending postcards while I am there.
---
For fun, take a look at some of the distances involved with the trip. This will be the furthest I have ever been from home.
View Sweden Trip! in a larger map
---
I'm leavin' tomorrow after a half day at work. So long, for now!
Thursday, August 06, 2009
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
HELLO, BIRTHDAY
Well, I came back from Tacoma safe and sound -- despite the best efforts of Washington state's unseasonably warm 104º weather.
But that's not important right now.
All that matters is that it is my birthday. And that is sweet.
---
(it's also Claire's birthday, but this is my blog so direct all praise towards me. Thanks!)
But that's not important right now.
All that matters is that it is my birthday. And that is sweet.
---
(it's also Claire's birthday, but this is my blog so direct all praise towards me. Thanks!)
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
TACOMA
Just in case you missed it, I am in Tacoma, WA for the rest of the week. I'm here for work, not pleasure, and the weather has been accommodating of this goal by setting record highs for the area.
Today it was 101º. I'm told "normal" is around 60º, maybe 70º.
I'll be running around Fort Lewis for the next two days, and will have periodic internet access. I'll try to post some pictures up, probably of the gorgeous Mt. Rainier, but I can't make any promises on this.
---
In other news, I have Google voice.
It's awesome, but I haven't set it up yet on account of having not picked out a new number. What do you think? Should I stick with a (248), or should I do something radical like (363)WMEDDY1?
Your thoughts matter to me!
Today it was 101º. I'm told "normal" is around 60º, maybe 70º.
I'll be running around Fort Lewis for the next two days, and will have periodic internet access. I'll try to post some pictures up, probably of the gorgeous Mt. Rainier, but I can't make any promises on this.
---
In other news, I have Google voice.
It's awesome, but I haven't set it up yet on account of having not picked out a new number. What do you think? Should I stick with a (248), or should I do something radical like (363)WMEDDY1?
Your thoughts matter to me!
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Yew Nork
New York.
What can I say?
(NY Trip July 11 - 14)
The People
(Apologies for the crazy image sizes, but Flickr doesn't play nice with Blogger.)
I lived with Justin for two years in college. He's a great guy; unflappably relaxed, quick to laugh, and brilliant behind the editing console. He's one of the first people I've met who just pours out creativity, and is relentless in his pursuit of artistry. Justin was kind enough to let me and Kris spend several days in his lovely East Village apartment.
Kris is my longtime pal, currently residing in Boulder, CO where she does magical things with hard drives. Kris was the art director at the Gargoyle for three tumultuous years, and her artistic accomplishments speak for themselves. Despite working with me while I was editor we've remained friends -- a rarity at the Gargoyle.
Jennifer is the only person I know that sent in an unsolicited application to the Gargoyle. Talented with words, the Gargoyle was not enough to contain her and she's worked at all kinds of places (including the hardly reputible Michigan Daily). She met Justin during a hectic evening we all barely recall, and is now living with him in beautiful Yew Nork, NY.
From left to right: Kris, Me, Jennifer, Justin
Hyatt(hyatthyatthyatt) is another former roomate. Like Justin, he majored in film but spent a good deal of time focused on stagecraft. Currently living in Brooklyn, Hyatt is involved in some kind of theatre company. Unfortunately, the play he's working on opened after we left. Fortunately, he worked on a faux-blaxploitation movie that you can enjoy.
Cathy is the current editor of the Gargoyle and a skilled artist besides. Another film major (how does this happen to me?), she used my apartment on Madison street as a set for a student film. I'm not in it, on account of nearly dying from the flu. She's spending the summer in Yew Nork working as an intern for Conde Naste, the publishers of several magazines -- including the Yew Norker. I'm not in the least bit jealous.
Justin's Friends were many and varied; they were all so welcoming, if confused by us and our strange ways.
---
The Places
If pressed I'd have to say that we spent 70% of our time in Justin's apartment. Watching movies, laughing our heads off, and wondering what to do next it was the perfect staging ground for our adventure(s). Not having a TV, Justin has made do with his laptop hooked up to a massive HD computer monitor. The affect of which, coupled with his seemingly inexhaustible supply of hi-res films, was quite impressive.
I slept on an air bed. Not an air mattress, an air bed. It was about three feet thick with a slow leak that meant I entered stranger and stranger positions throughout the night. Given that, it is odd that I not only slept well, but enjoyed the challenge.
Justin's apartment has three gold records and one platinum record on the walls. How cool is that?
I can talk at great length about the restuarants. We experienced phenomenal pizza, delictable Italian food, and uniquely Ukranian quisine throughout our travels. Chicago is the food capital of the US, of course, but NY gave us some phenomenal options. And the bars weren't too bad either.
After much recommendation from my parents, and friends, we made sure to hit up Essa bagel. While I have had several NY-style bagels, this was a unique experience. With a variety of fillings and toppings, complimented by a laid back experience and a truly massive bagel it should not be missed.
We also made a meal out of soup-filled dumplings. There's not much more to say about this except that it was awesome.
There were several encounters and experiences in a Halloween shop, followed by an overwhelming trip to Forbidden Planet -- the famed NY comic shop. I was excited to see the place, having heard so much about it on the Internet but left a little disappointed. We couldn't figure out the organization of the place, and the only staffer I spoke too was brisk to the point of rudeness. The place has serious potential, but could use a little refinement. However, I don't regret a moment (or a cent) of the time spent there.
We did amble around Battery Park, discovered secret statues of dogs in Central Park, and paid our respects to the flashing light gods of Time Square. We attempted a museum trip but were deflected by strange scheduling, instead paying a visit to a few galleries where we saw Seuss and Dali on the same street. Quite a time.
---
The Things
A series of strange and wonderful movies Justin provided
Barack Pharoh-bama
Large, Ukranian meatballs
A clutch of art pens
Mattresses designed to give the sleeper a nautical adventure on a cushion of air
Small notebooks, filled with giggling sketches
Postcards
Old cameras valued for their peculiarities, rather then their photo prowess
A straw hat that's been everywhere
The sweat stain I left on the plastic bench in the 4 train
The homeless man that explained the Amtrak system to me
A gawdy gilded newsletter professing the wrath of God and the terrors of satan, complete with bedazzled cross clipart and a photo of the Elvis/Cash hybrid preacher
The quiet voice of a man as he passes quickly buy, quietly broadcasting his trade in fake IDs amidst the pulsations of Canal street.
A pizza joint that has a Major Award
The shirt that your friend also bought, that you don't wear on the same day
Finding yourself acting like you did 4 years ago
The future machine
A book about Sartre that you take off your friend's shelf, read, and makes you realize that you don't really like Sartre all that much
All these pictures come from the Flickr pool we put together. It's named for the Tom Wait's song, and will hopefully grow to include a complete if bizarre pictoral account of our trip.
What can I say?
(NY Trip July 11 - 14)
The People
(Apologies for the crazy image sizes, but Flickr doesn't play nice with Blogger.)
I lived with Justin for two years in college. He's a great guy; unflappably relaxed, quick to laugh, and brilliant behind the editing console. He's one of the first people I've met who just pours out creativity, and is relentless in his pursuit of artistry. Justin was kind enough to let me and Kris spend several days in his lovely East Village apartment.
Kris is my longtime pal, currently residing in Boulder, CO where she does magical things with hard drives. Kris was the art director at the Gargoyle for three tumultuous years, and her artistic accomplishments speak for themselves. Despite working with me while I was editor we've remained friends -- a rarity at the Gargoyle.
Jennifer is the only person I know that sent in an unsolicited application to the Gargoyle. Talented with words, the Gargoyle was not enough to contain her and she's worked at all kinds of places (including the hardly reputible Michigan Daily). She met Justin during a hectic evening we all barely recall, and is now living with him in beautiful Yew Nork, NY.
From left to right: Kris, Me, Jennifer, Justin
Hyatt(hyatthyatthyatt) is another former roomate. Like Justin, he majored in film but spent a good deal of time focused on stagecraft. Currently living in Brooklyn, Hyatt is involved in some kind of theatre company. Unfortunately, the play he's working on opened after we left. Fortunately, he worked on a faux-blaxploitation movie that you can enjoy.
Cathy is the current editor of the Gargoyle and a skilled artist besides. Another film major (how does this happen to me?), she used my apartment on Madison street as a set for a student film. I'm not in it, on account of nearly dying from the flu. She's spending the summer in Yew Nork working as an intern for Conde Naste, the publishers of several magazines -- including the Yew Norker. I'm not in the least bit jealous.
Justin's Friends were many and varied; they were all so welcoming, if confused by us and our strange ways.
---
The Places
If pressed I'd have to say that we spent 70% of our time in Justin's apartment. Watching movies, laughing our heads off, and wondering what to do next it was the perfect staging ground for our adventure(s). Not having a TV, Justin has made do with his laptop hooked up to a massive HD computer monitor. The affect of which, coupled with his seemingly inexhaustible supply of hi-res films, was quite impressive.
I slept on an air bed. Not an air mattress, an air bed. It was about three feet thick with a slow leak that meant I entered stranger and stranger positions throughout the night. Given that, it is odd that I not only slept well, but enjoyed the challenge.
Justin's apartment has three gold records and one platinum record on the walls. How cool is that?
I can talk at great length about the restuarants. We experienced phenomenal pizza, delictable Italian food, and uniquely Ukranian quisine throughout our travels. Chicago is the food capital of the US, of course, but NY gave us some phenomenal options. And the bars weren't too bad either.
After much recommendation from my parents, and friends, we made sure to hit up Essa bagel. While I have had several NY-style bagels, this was a unique experience. With a variety of fillings and toppings, complimented by a laid back experience and a truly massive bagel it should not be missed.
We also made a meal out of soup-filled dumplings. There's not much more to say about this except that it was awesome.
There were several encounters and experiences in a Halloween shop, followed by an overwhelming trip to Forbidden Planet -- the famed NY comic shop. I was excited to see the place, having heard so much about it on the Internet but left a little disappointed. We couldn't figure out the organization of the place, and the only staffer I spoke too was brisk to the point of rudeness. The place has serious potential, but could use a little refinement. However, I don't regret a moment (or a cent) of the time spent there.
We did amble around Battery Park, discovered secret statues of dogs in Central Park, and paid our respects to the flashing light gods of Time Square. We attempted a museum trip but were deflected by strange scheduling, instead paying a visit to a few galleries where we saw Seuss and Dali on the same street. Quite a time.
---
The Things
A series of strange and wonderful movies Justin provided
Barack Pharoh-bama
Large, Ukranian meatballs
A clutch of art pens
Mattresses designed to give the sleeper a nautical adventure on a cushion of air
Small notebooks, filled with giggling sketches
Postcards
Old cameras valued for their peculiarities, rather then their photo prowess
A straw hat that's been everywhere
The sweat stain I left on the plastic bench in the 4 train
The homeless man that explained the Amtrak system to me
A gawdy gilded newsletter professing the wrath of God and the terrors of satan, complete with bedazzled cross clipart and a photo of the Elvis/Cash hybrid preacher
The quiet voice of a man as he passes quickly buy, quietly broadcasting his trade in fake IDs amidst the pulsations of Canal street.
A pizza joint that has a Major Award
The shirt that your friend also bought, that you don't wear on the same day
Finding yourself acting like you did 4 years ago
The future machine
A book about Sartre that you take off your friend's shelf, read, and makes you realize that you don't really like Sartre all that much
All these pictures come from the Flickr pool we put together. It's named for the Tom Wait's song, and will hopefully grow to include a complete if bizarre pictoral account of our trip.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Toothpaste
There's a lot to talk about, but the most important thing right now is that it's late and I am about to brush my teeth without gagging for the first time in five days.
Ten days ago, I left for New York and had a blast. More on this later. Five days ago, I came back and discovered that the only toothpaste left in the house was cinnamon Crest. While I have nothing against cinnamon, Crest, or toothpaste, when they were combined together they formed an unbeatable opponent.
But I had no choice; I'd exhausted my supply of Tom's of Maine in the Big Apple and had yet to purchase a replacement.
Truly, I suffered.
It's not that this toothpaste is bad, it's that it's like having someone shove dirty fingers in your mouth. Whole fist-fulls, until you can't take anymore. It's like rinsing our mouth out with cheap whiskey, and you have a delicate stomach. It burns, but not enough to overwhelm the nausea inducing flavor that tickles your glottal, and dares your gag reflex to fight back.
But today I made it to the store. Tonight, Toms of Maine will once again cleanse me, and I can put away these foul memories forever.
Ten days ago, I left for New York and had a blast. More on this later. Five days ago, I came back and discovered that the only toothpaste left in the house was cinnamon Crest. While I have nothing against cinnamon, Crest, or toothpaste, when they were combined together they formed an unbeatable opponent.
But I had no choice; I'd exhausted my supply of Tom's of Maine in the Big Apple and had yet to purchase a replacement.
Truly, I suffered.
It's not that this toothpaste is bad, it's that it's like having someone shove dirty fingers in your mouth. Whole fist-fulls, until you can't take anymore. It's like rinsing our mouth out with cheap whiskey, and you have a delicate stomach. It burns, but not enough to overwhelm the nausea inducing flavor that tickles your glottal, and dares your gag reflex to fight back.
But today I made it to the store. Tonight, Toms of Maine will once again cleanse me, and I can put away these foul memories forever.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
Wilco Wednesday
I went out and saw the Wilco documentary I am Trying to Break Your Heart with Mike and his friend Fiona last night. It was one of those outdoor movies-projected-on-a-big-inflatable-screen things.
I had seen the film before, but it was a nice reason to get out and see some more of DC. I'd never been in the NE before, and while it's certainly not as ritzy and polished as most of the NW is it was alright.
Unfortunately, Wilco (the band) was actually playing not far from my house the same night. Double-unfortunately, Sonic Youth was playing back to back shows in DC. Because of my ignorance, I had tickets to see neither act.
Looking around the crowd at the movie, we figured that these were all the people that couldn't get tickets to the Wilco show. Though some of them also probably fell into the category of considering themselves too old to go to concerts. I also heard rumblings of the relative benefits of Wilco v. Uncle Tupelo, but that's an argument for another day.
For the record, it's a good movie. I'd like to say that you don't have to care about Wilco to like it, but there's so much concert footage that you have already dig them to care. It does, however, chronicle an interesting time in the history of what would become a surprisingly significant and successful album.
But oh well, it was a nice night: the weather was great, the movie is still good, and sometimes it's just nice to sit on the grass and not have any responsibilities for a while.
---
I'll be heading out for a quick stint in NY starting this weekend. On the docket is to box a male model, confess my undying love for former roommate Justin, see a play by other former roommate Hyatt, and lick the New Yorker offices. Long-time pal Kris will probably draw on my face with a permanent marker while I stare blankly at the Carnegie Deli, and mid-term pal Cathy will be cooler than me by interning for Conde Nast.
All this and more, in the future.
I had seen the film before, but it was a nice reason to get out and see some more of DC. I'd never been in the NE before, and while it's certainly not as ritzy and polished as most of the NW is it was alright.
Unfortunately, Wilco (the band) was actually playing not far from my house the same night. Double-unfortunately, Sonic Youth was playing back to back shows in DC. Because of my ignorance, I had tickets to see neither act.
Looking around the crowd at the movie, we figured that these were all the people that couldn't get tickets to the Wilco show. Though some of them also probably fell into the category of considering themselves too old to go to concerts. I also heard rumblings of the relative benefits of Wilco v. Uncle Tupelo, but that's an argument for another day.
For the record, it's a good movie. I'd like to say that you don't have to care about Wilco to like it, but there's so much concert footage that you have already dig them to care. It does, however, chronicle an interesting time in the history of what would become a surprisingly significant and successful album.
But oh well, it was a nice night: the weather was great, the movie is still good, and sometimes it's just nice to sit on the grass and not have any responsibilities for a while.
---
I'll be heading out for a quick stint in NY starting this weekend. On the docket is to box a male model, confess my undying love for former roommate Justin, see a play by other former roommate Hyatt, and lick the New Yorker offices. Long-time pal Kris will probably draw on my face with a permanent marker while I stare blankly at the Carnegie Deli, and mid-term pal Cathy will be cooler than me by interning for Conde Nast.
All this and more, in the future.
The Big Recap
A solid month with no posts. This is simply unacceptable.
I have no other excuse for my recent internet laziness other than The Wire, a fantastic cop drama that ran 5 seasons on HBO some time ago. I had heard about the show back in 2007/08, but decided to ignore it since the entire staff of the Michigan Daily was in love with it. It's not a judgement against any one particular person on the staff, it's just that I've read their Arts column and sincerely doubt their taste.
The point is that the show is great, and I've been consuming the DVDs for the past few weeks. The show is as addictive as the illegal substances it portrays.
---
There are three items of particular importance that I will now address.
1. Claire Has Been Gone For Some Time -- Claire is still in Chicago, working diligently for the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago. As part of her Masters program with George Washington University, she has to do so many hours of interning. Being a native of the North Shore, she chose to spend this summer working on restoring an Assyrian Frieze.
Her job involves a lot of washing, a lot of digital paper-pushing, and arranging photos of the puzzle piece fragments of the frieze over a 19th century French line drawing of the original. It's painstaking, but she really enjoys working in a museum.
Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to get any behind the scenes pictures from her, but I did visit the main exhibit a few weeks ago. However, I did snap a few quick shots of the pieces already on display. This one is my favorite:
Follow the link for a few more.
More info on the institute and it's collections can be found here, and Claire's project is here.
In other news, she just submitted her first academic article for publication. Here's hoping it gets accepted!
---
This is starting to sound like a Christmas letter; I'm sorry for that.
---
2. I Bought A New Car -- Times being what they are, I decided to single handily save not only the domestic automotive industry but my father's job and the global economy to boot. I am your hero. To quote the great Strongbad, "dudes, form a line to my left for high-fives; ladies, form a line to my right for makeouts."
The car in question is a candy-apple red 2009 Pontiac Vibe. I've been attracted to the Vibe since my father purchased one back in 2004. It's small, but eminently comfortable, and with enough interior space to haul stuff around. It's also a joint venture with Toyota, so it's famous for good build quality and fuel economy.
The purchase went down two weeks ago while I was in Chicago. I traveled down to the city's notorious South Side, where after months of trawling the internet I determined the best model available would be. We nearly drove right past the dealership, since they only had a store front on a mostly vacant and depressed street.
Roseland Pontiac was the name of the place. According to them, it's the oldest GM dealership in the world, with a near century-long history. It's certainly unlike any dealership I've ever seen. It's like walking into a small store in a historic neighborhood, except someone went and parked three brand new cars in the middle of the building.
Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to take any pictures of the new ride. Plus, it's pretty dirty at the moment. Another crappy iPhone photo will have to do for now.
There's been extensive discussion on naming the vehicle. Bucephalus, my truck, got his name after at least a year so I am in no hurry. Claire is particularly fond of Nessie, but I think Ogopogo would be a better cryptid name. I'm also partial to Elwood, since like that particular Blues Brother, my car hails from the South Side. What do you think?
3. My Family Visited -- and it was awesome! After spending some time in Philly and in New York, everyone rolled in to town for a lovely long 4th of July weekend. We played music, ate great food, saw some awesome fireworks, and enjoyed each other's company.
(As always, hit the link for more photos)
It's so phenomenal to see everyone; especially my siblings.
Of particular interest was the DC fireworks display. After a solid day of hemming and hawing about whether to sit out on the mall with half a million (actual count) people or try to catch a glimpse from elsewhere, we bit the bullet and hit the mall. Despite the crowds, belligerent club girls, poor bathroom facilities, and the knowledge that we would have to run to a Metro stop to beat the crowds, I have to say it was an amazing sight.
Unlike most firework shows I've seen, where one or two explosions go off at a time until the grand finale, the DC fireworks is all finale all the time. Also, we saw the whole thing with the beautifully illuminated Capitol at our backs and the Washington Monument standing resolutely between us and the fireworks. It was, no pun intended, a blast.
I was so sorry to see my family drive off into the distance, particularly because they took Bucephalus with them. But I know this isn't the last time I'll see them, or him, and should probably just swallow my drama and buck up.
---
There, I think that just about covers it. Now, on to new business...
I have no other excuse for my recent internet laziness other than The Wire, a fantastic cop drama that ran 5 seasons on HBO some time ago. I had heard about the show back in 2007/08, but decided to ignore it since the entire staff of the Michigan Daily was in love with it. It's not a judgement against any one particular person on the staff, it's just that I've read their Arts column and sincerely doubt their taste.
The point is that the show is great, and I've been consuming the DVDs for the past few weeks. The show is as addictive as the illegal substances it portrays.
---
There are three items of particular importance that I will now address.
1. Claire Has Been Gone For Some Time -- Claire is still in Chicago, working diligently for the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago. As part of her Masters program with George Washington University, she has to do so many hours of interning. Being a native of the North Shore, she chose to spend this summer working on restoring an Assyrian Frieze.
Her job involves a lot of washing, a lot of digital paper-pushing, and arranging photos of the puzzle piece fragments of the frieze over a 19th century French line drawing of the original. It's painstaking, but she really enjoys working in a museum.
Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to get any behind the scenes pictures from her, but I did visit the main exhibit a few weeks ago. However, I did snap a few quick shots of the pieces already on display. This one is my favorite:
 |
| From Chicago Oriental Institute |
Follow the link for a few more.
More info on the institute and it's collections can be found here, and Claire's project is here.
In other news, she just submitted her first academic article for publication. Here's hoping it gets accepted!
---
This is starting to sound like a Christmas letter; I'm sorry for that.
---
2. I Bought A New Car -- Times being what they are, I decided to single handily save not only the domestic automotive industry but my father's job and the global economy to boot. I am your hero. To quote the great Strongbad, "dudes, form a line to my left for high-fives; ladies, form a line to my right for makeouts."
The car in question is a candy-apple red 2009 Pontiac Vibe. I've been attracted to the Vibe since my father purchased one back in 2004. It's small, but eminently comfortable, and with enough interior space to haul stuff around. It's also a joint venture with Toyota, so it's famous for good build quality and fuel economy.
The purchase went down two weeks ago while I was in Chicago. I traveled down to the city's notorious South Side, where after months of trawling the internet I determined the best model available would be. We nearly drove right past the dealership, since they only had a store front on a mostly vacant and depressed street.
Roseland Pontiac was the name of the place. According to them, it's the oldest GM dealership in the world, with a near century-long history. It's certainly unlike any dealership I've ever seen. It's like walking into a small store in a historic neighborhood, except someone went and parked three brand new cars in the middle of the building.
Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to take any pictures of the new ride. Plus, it's pretty dirty at the moment. Another crappy iPhone photo will have to do for now.
There's been extensive discussion on naming the vehicle. Bucephalus, my truck, got his name after at least a year so I am in no hurry. Claire is particularly fond of Nessie, but I think Ogopogo would be a better cryptid name. I'm also partial to Elwood, since like that particular Blues Brother, my car hails from the South Side. What do you think?
3. My Family Visited -- and it was awesome! After spending some time in Philly and in New York, everyone rolled in to town for a lovely long 4th of July weekend. We played music, ate great food, saw some awesome fireworks, and enjoyed each other's company.
 |
| From Patriotic Familial Visit |
(As always, hit the link for more photos)
It's so phenomenal to see everyone; especially my siblings.
 |
| From Patriotic Familial Visit |
Of particular interest was the DC fireworks display. After a solid day of hemming and hawing about whether to sit out on the mall with half a million (actual count) people or try to catch a glimpse from elsewhere, we bit the bullet and hit the mall. Despite the crowds, belligerent club girls, poor bathroom facilities, and the knowledge that we would have to run to a Metro stop to beat the crowds, I have to say it was an amazing sight.
Unlike most firework shows I've seen, where one or two explosions go off at a time until the grand finale, the DC fireworks is all finale all the time. Also, we saw the whole thing with the beautifully illuminated Capitol at our backs and the Washington Monument standing resolutely between us and the fireworks. It was, no pun intended, a blast.
 |
| From Patriotic Familial Visit |
I was so sorry to see my family drive off into the distance, particularly because they took Bucephalus with them. But I know this isn't the last time I'll see them, or him, and should probably just swallow my drama and buck up.
---
There, I think that just about covers it. Now, on to new business...
Sunday, June 07, 2009
Pony Party: Our Trip to Chincoteague
This is the post where I tell you about the trip Claire and I took out to Chincoteague island, home of the famous wild assateague ponies. It's pretty darn long, so I'll link you to the pictures up here, and anyone who isn't really interested in the details of our jaunt can just cut to the pretty pictures. No harm, no foul.
Onward!
---
We chose Chincoteague as a destination since it was close to us, sea-side, and away from DC. As most of our trips do, this one began with depositing the dog at the Dog Boarding Place where he spent the long weekend chasing other dogs and doing the things that we don't let him do.
Once divested of canine, we set out. It was a relatively short drive, crossing many bridges and taking us out over the Chesapeake Bay and on to the Delaware Peninsula. Along the way, we zipped past several remarkable sights: the beautiful and disconcertingly long Bay Bridge; a Tattoo parlor called "Gypsy Vintage," which was housed in what used to be a bank and clearly had people living in it; and NASA's Wallops Flight Center.
We stayed at the surprisingly spacious Channel Bass Inn, of which we can say nothing but good things. The breakfast was delicious, the owners were helpful (if a bit talkative), the room was far more plush than I am used to, and we were stuffed silly on Sunday tea. If any of you happen to find yourself in need of lodging on a far-flung Virginia island, I have the place for you.
Our days were spent meandering around the little down town, exploring the local eateries (of which there are many), but mostly we tooled around the neighboring assateague Island nature reserve, home of the famous ponies.
While packed with nature trails, the area is also packed with mosquitos. After a short visit to the top of the picturesque but also small, cramped, and hot assateague light house, we opted to stick to driving tours and visiting the beach.
While not my first time at the Atlantic, it was my first time on an Atlantic beach. When I stood at the shore, it seemed to me like there was little difference between this big hole full of water, and the big holes full of water where I grew up. Lake Michigan and Superior both boast empty horizons and seemingly endless tracts of water. But when I stood in the surf, looking out at nothing but rolling waves, I could see the difference. I could feel the difference when the cold, roiling waves sloshed up around my feet; that water was powerful, and violent, though it seemed tame by the shore. Even standing in the surf, still on land, the ocean feels deeper and far more vast.
That being said, we had a triumphantly lovely stroll on the beach, followed by a snooze in the sun in the back of Bucephalus.
assateague has many trails, none of which we pursued. We decided that we were here to relax, and that even the stress of getting buggy and sweaty was more than we were willing to take. However, the largest nature trail circles assateague's interior lake and is accessible by car in the evening. On our last day, we decided to take Bucephalus out along the trail, and commune with nature from the comfort of a pick up truck.
Though the ponies are the main attraction of the island, I had tempered my expectations. We'd already missed the annual drive, were most of the ponies are driven across the salt marshes and herded up on Chincoteague. We reserved our excitement for the numerous fishing birds and endless picturesque views that the island had to offer.
After spending a full fifteen minutes trying to capture the beauty of a heron of some sort, I turned back toward the road and noticed that three ponies had been in front of us for some time.
We were ecstatic. This was more than we could have asked for. The ponies paid very little attention to our squeals of delight (mostly Claire, I grumbled with joyous masculinity), and passed by the truck intent on whatever it is that wild ponies concern themselves with. After a flurry of photo taking and our vocal approval, we drove off for a final look at the beach before calling it a night.
Despite all the natural beauty, aloof ponies, quaint towni-ness that our trip had to offer, I think my favorite memories of the whole excursion were the time we spent sitting in our room, munching on sandwiches and sipping the chincy miniature wine bottles we smuggled in. I don't know if it was against the rules or not, but it was a fun and relaxing little side-note to our trip.
---
That was all so terribly long. For all of you that made it to the bottom: congratulations. While I hit all the points that stuck out in my mind, I am sure that I missed something important. In which case, Claire will remind me and I will tell you all about it in future updates.
 |
| Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
Onward!
---
We chose Chincoteague as a destination since it was close to us, sea-side, and away from DC. As most of our trips do, this one began with depositing the dog at the Dog Boarding Place where he spent the long weekend chasing other dogs and doing the things that we don't let him do.
Once divested of canine, we set out. It was a relatively short drive, crossing many bridges and taking us out over the Chesapeake Bay and on to the Delaware Peninsula. Along the way, we zipped past several remarkable sights: the beautiful and disconcertingly long Bay Bridge; a Tattoo parlor called "Gypsy Vintage," which was housed in what used to be a bank and clearly had people living in it; and NASA's Wallops Flight Center.
We stayed at the surprisingly spacious Channel Bass Inn, of which we can say nothing but good things. The breakfast was delicious, the owners were helpful (if a bit talkative), the room was far more plush than I am used to, and we were stuffed silly on Sunday tea. If any of you happen to find yourself in need of lodging on a far-flung Virginia island, I have the place for you.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
Our days were spent meandering around the little down town, exploring the local eateries (of which there are many), but mostly we tooled around the neighboring assateague Island nature reserve, home of the famous ponies.
While packed with nature trails, the area is also packed with mosquitos. After a short visit to the top of the picturesque but also small, cramped, and hot assateague light house, we opted to stick to driving tours and visiting the beach.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
While not my first time at the Atlantic, it was my first time on an Atlantic beach. When I stood at the shore, it seemed to me like there was little difference between this big hole full of water, and the big holes full of water where I grew up. Lake Michigan and Superior both boast empty horizons and seemingly endless tracts of water. But when I stood in the surf, looking out at nothing but rolling waves, I could see the difference. I could feel the difference when the cold, roiling waves sloshed up around my feet; that water was powerful, and violent, though it seemed tame by the shore. Even standing in the surf, still on land, the ocean feels deeper and far more vast.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
That being said, we had a triumphantly lovely stroll on the beach, followed by a snooze in the sun in the back of Bucephalus.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
assateague has many trails, none of which we pursued. We decided that we were here to relax, and that even the stress of getting buggy and sweaty was more than we were willing to take. However, the largest nature trail circles assateague's interior lake and is accessible by car in the evening. On our last day, we decided to take Bucephalus out along the trail, and commune with nature from the comfort of a pick up truck.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
Though the ponies are the main attraction of the island, I had tempered my expectations. We'd already missed the annual drive, were most of the ponies are driven across the salt marshes and herded up on Chincoteague. We reserved our excitement for the numerous fishing birds and endless picturesque views that the island had to offer.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
After spending a full fifteen minutes trying to capture the beauty of a heron of some sort, I turned back toward the road and noticed that three ponies had been in front of us for some time.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
We were ecstatic. This was more than we could have asked for. The ponies paid very little attention to our squeals of delight (mostly Claire, I grumbled with joyous masculinity), and passed by the truck intent on whatever it is that wild ponies concern themselves with. After a flurry of photo taking and our vocal approval, we drove off for a final look at the beach before calling it a night.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
Despite all the natural beauty, aloof ponies, quaint towni-ness that our trip had to offer, I think my favorite memories of the whole excursion were the time we spent sitting in our room, munching on sandwiches and sipping the chincy miniature wine bottles we smuggled in. I don't know if it was against the rules or not, but it was a fun and relaxing little side-note to our trip.
 |
| From Chincoteague: A Pony Adventure |
---
That was all so terribly long. For all of you that made it to the bottom: congratulations. While I hit all the points that stuck out in my mind, I am sure that I missed something important. In which case, Claire will remind me and I will tell you all about it in future updates.
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