#11: Get Running Therapy In DC.
What’s the best way to clear a writer’s mind? On a run. On cobblestone streets and packed sidewalks. In busy cities and industrial neighborhoods. With the morning sunshine and street noise to your back, and clear skies and inspiring architecture straight ahead. Today is my clear-the-mind kind of day. One hour and three minutes, two damp socks, 47 preloaded songs and a new life plan later, I’m ready for the next adventure. But more on that in the next post. Right now, I’m still sweaty…
#10: A Lucky, Wedding-Filled Summer.
Returning home from New Orleans was heartbreaking but in hindsight, I found the silver lining in the cloud: When you’re direction-less at the end of a crazy, fun summer, the best way to find it again is seeing a friend get married. My best friend since the 8th grade, Kat, was getting married to her best friend Rogers, and she asked me to be a Bridesmaid. Before she could finish and spout off the venue and flowers, I screamed…
#9: Leave New Orleans, Heavy-Hearted.
The city I don’t want to forget: New Orleans. It’s Day # 30. The mileage meter says 2,648 miles traveled in one month. With an aching feeling of sadness, home sickness and a little vacationer’s remorse, I’m leaving this extended road trip for home, Washington, DC. Why? Well, the reason why all travelers and writers eventually return home. I can’t explain but, I can say in a month’s time, New Orleans has felt like home; a European home…
#8: Start A Half-Bucket List.
Dear Nay-Nay & Lou Lou (Roomies): Can we try to accomplish some of these things in New Orleans before the world ends (well mine, anyways) and I have to head back to DC? I’ve generously listed out several options and enticing, almost-too-good-to-be-true visual aids for us. What are we waiting for? 🙂 Get a piercing. Visit Jackson Square. See a movie at old movie theater this Wednesday, right? Dinner at that Mexican place, Las Panchitas. Run seven miles down…
#7: Hear All That Jazz on Frenchmen St.
Kirk, the New Orleans drummer, told me about this “Frenchman Street.” But I didn’t realize how musically influential and magical this place would really be. Turns out, it’s extraordinary. Removed from the glitzy neon lights and overrated Bourbon Street, this compact musical neighborhood is the epicenter of jazz music, nightlife and deep southern cajun culture. No over-the-top dance raging clubs. Only hole-in-the-wall dives. No half-ass singing. Only amazingly talented musicians playing for pennies on street corners. No neon…