A Good Coffee Shop Is Hard To Find

Thus far our trip has been a) amazing; b) laden with ridiculous(ly awesome) hip hop (boom, boom, POW); c) a whirlwind; d) characterized by endless jokes, sweet-smelling sticky heat, and ice-cold beer; e) all of the above.

Rather than give you a long-winded play-by-play of each day’s endless activities, the miles we walked, and the streetcars we caught, I thought I would instead give you a 5,7,5 five-day synopsis, and for the proverbial posting cherry on top? Some of my favorite pictures I’ve taken thus far. Pictures are good. Almost as good as vacation-summarizing haiku.

Wednesday:

Flying is tiresome.
New Orleans, you are sexy.
I fed vamps my snacks.

Up until 4, whoops.
The Bulldog likes felt ’staches.
9 pint glasses: ours.

Thursday:

French Quarter traipsing;
Dinner at Cooter Brown’s with
pitchers, friends, meat pies.

Friday:

Found a cute breakfast
spot before cemetery
wandering. So hot.

The temp, I mean. Not
the cemeteries. Sweaty
was “the look” this week.

Cafe DuMonde for
hot beignets and hot coffee.
Wipe your powdered mouth.

Saturday:

Impulsive are we.
New tattoos? Well, sure! Why not?
Crawfish? Tried, denied.

Sunday:

Popeyes was required.
As was a rental car, but
to the airport first.

Just an FYI:
Hertz in downtown New Orleans
closes early Sun.

Made it to Mobile
to surprise Chris’ family,
Milo’s tea in tow.

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In no particular order, here are some of my favorite shots from the first five days of our trip to the South. (You can view the full Flickr set from the trip, sure to be exponentially growing as I keep uploading, here. And we both have new prints in our Etsy shops, too. Chris’ is here, and mine is here.)
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This is my good friend Alexis, and “Token,” one of five bartenders at The Bulldog. He teased us about the ’staches and then insisted in getting his picture taken with one. He also asked if he could keep it. And then proceeded to run around the bar with the ’stache on his finger. CONVERTED.

The rest of the bartenders of The Bulldog (and Alexis) are also felt mustache fans:

SO tired, naps are required:

This was my favorite shot of a house that is part of Brad Pitt’s Make It Right campaign, a foundation he created to rebuild homes in the Lower 9th Ward:

All of the homes are as bright as can be, solar-powered, and built to be as hurricane-ready as possible, complete with tall cemented foundations and roof hatches.

Left behind in the Lower 9th Ward:

Some of my favorites from Lafayette Cemetery:

Do A Big Sister A Favor?

Today is babycarrot sister’s 26th! Day of Cake. Being that my sister happens to be (awesome, yes! and) one of my favorite people on the planet, I think instead of being here, you should go here, and read all about what made her day great. (Seeing as how we’re all very visual learners around these parts, I will tell you that there are most definitely pictures. Of cake, even!)

You could even wish her a happy! birthday. You know, if you → Read more...

My Heart Is A Nautical-Themed Pashmina Afghan

We interrupt copious amounts of Asia recapping this broadcast for a maritime digression of sorts.

You see, I’ve been a lover of the ocean, and of all things aquatic and nautical-inspired, ever since I can remember.

My love for sea-faring-everything might very well have been fostered during the myriad spring breaks spent exploring quaint coastal communities in and around Port Ludlow, Washington. Some of my fondest childhood memories spring forth from days spent poking my curious face into every trinket shop in → Read more...

Paint By Numbers

Or, My Asian Adventure, Numerically Speaking.

1: Raw Ginseng root eaten after being offered by a kindly man with wrinkles showcasing his eyes at the Yangyang market. Also the number of photos I was asked to be in with total strangers (at the Forbidden City in Beijing).

6: Times I was asked to take pictures for total strangers.

2: Cups of mineral water I drank directly from a spring in the ground (in Osaek).

3: Flights (out of 5) wherein I had two (or → Read more...

Eggers-How We Are Hungry

I knew the Red Pyramid had just been reopened, or was about to be reopened, though I didn’t know why they called it Red. I wanted to ride on a horse through the desert. I wanted to see if this man–slight, with brown teeth, wide-set eyes, a cop mustache–would try to kill me. There were plenty of Egyptians who would love to kill me, I was sure, and I was ready to engage in any way with someone who wanted → Read more...