Day 16 - 11/24/08 The Day of the Rain

After getting a fairly good night's sleep, despite the lack of a soft bed, I woke up around 9 am. I was surprised at how well I slept. If you recall my blog from the first day (the only other day I actually camped out) I couldn't ever actually get all the way asleep. But this night, the night of the 23rd, I slept pretty well. As I said, I woke up at 9, and was in fact so comfortable, I went right back to sleep, slumbering til 12.



This is where the shit storm begins.



I awaken at 12 to stormy weather. It's puring rain outside, I'm all of a sudden very cold, and I realize there's no way I'm getting to my cousin Marti's house on the other side of North Carolina by 10 pm. I decide to take a drive around the park to try and warm myself up and to try and wait out the rain (so I can pack up everything). I got warm, but the rain worsened. I hurried back to the site before it got any worse and started packing things.



Now, normally it takes me around 45-55 minutes to break everything down and pack it into the car all neat and orderly like. However, since it was raining and pissing me off and I was getting cold again, I was having some issues with the tent. I couldn't figure out a way to break it down without getting water inside the tent, so that happened. It normally takes me one try to roll the tent up and stuff it in its bag, but on this particular occasion, it took three tries. I think it's because it was raining and I was trying to hurry, therefore not doing a great job.



It's a bit ironic that I was trying to hurry, and for that reason it actually ended up taking me longer than usual.



As I got more wet and more angry, my organizational skills got less and less. I ended up just tossing everything into my car so I could get the hell away from that place. The sooner the better. Whenever I pack my car on a normal occasion, I can see out my rear windshield (because it's safer that way). But since I had just tossed everything into my car, I couldn't see out of my rear windshield. And since I was wet and pissed off, and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, I ended up going 60 mph in a 45 zone. On my way out, I passed a Park Ranger going the other direction. I didn't think anything of it, since he was going in the other direction.



A few minutes later, I heard the *woop woop* of the siren and saw some flashing lights. "God damn it," I thought. "Just my luck. Let's rain on Alex, let's piss Alex off, let's make it hard for him to leave, let's pull him over. This is bullshit."

Day 15 - 11/23/08

Today was an interesting day. It started off slow. I packed up my stuff and heading out from the dorm went down without a hitch. I left around 11:30 and decided to treat myself to some Taco Bell before I left town. My sister called me and we chit-chatted for a while before she informed me she was about to eat. I finished my chalupas, saved my soft taco for later, and went to my car. I turned to the passenger seat to pull up directions to the Great Smoky Mountains (my next destination) on my laptop. When I turned around, there was a gentleman standing outside my window.

After getting over the initial startle he gave me, I rolled down my window to see what he wanted. He had the typical homeless look about him: Bad hygiene, lots of dirty clothes layered on sloppily, and something to keep his head warm (in this case a skull cap). He told me he was living at the mission for $7 a day since his girlfriend kicked him out of their apartment 3 days prior. He said he had heard that the place next door to the Taco Bell hired for day labor, but they didn't have anything for him today. He told me he hadn't eaten in a day and a half, and was starving. 

I told him I had no cash, but he was persistent. He told me he didn't beg for money, and offered to wash my car for a nominal fee at the Shell station next door. He informed me there was an ATM inside, and I could get money there. He looked desperate and truthful, so I agreed. However, there was a very long line at the car wash, so I offered to just pay him ten bucks so I could go on my way. I was trying to get to the Smokies before dark so I could set up camp before dark, and I was starting to push the envelope.

I went in to get some cash, bought a $1 scratch-off because the cashier wouldn't open the drawer just for change, I had to buy something. So I gave the homeless man (whose name I forget, but he did tell me he was a house renovator) 10 bucks and the scratch off. He scratched it, and then won $7 bucks. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so happy to have $17 bucks. I will admit, I was a bit disappointed when I wasn't the one who won the $7, because I had never won anything from a scratch  off game before. Anyway, I wished him luck and headed to the Smokies.

On my way there, I had to stop and use the bathroom because of the massive quantities of Mountain Dew I drank at Taco Bell. When I stopped, I bought two scratch off tickets thinking maybe I would get lucky the way the Renovator did. And wouldn't you know it, I won $17 dollars and a free ticket. It was like karmic payback for doing a good thing. I made up the money I gave him, the money I spent on the lotto ticket for him, and the $7 he won. So I thought, maybe I'll get lucky again! So I took $14 in cash, and $4 in  scratch offs. None of those were productive. 

I stopped off at Tallula Gorge in northern Georgia on my way to the Smokies. Let me tell you, that was quite a sight. They didn't have anything saying exactly how far down it was, but I estimate it was about 250-350 feet of trees and rocks. At the very bottom was a fast paced river. I took a picture or two, but trust me, they do not do it justice. The view from the top was dizzying at first glance, bordering on vertigo. Definitely worth the 25 minute stop.

I finally got to the Great Smoky Mountains around 4:45, and took another 15 minutes trying to find my campsite. I set up everything just in time for the arrival of nighttime. I tried to make hot chocolate, but to make a long story short, it didn't work. By the time I decided I wanted to make a fire to keep myself warm, my toes were about to fall off. I didn't notice until I stood up from the picnic table and couldn't feel my toes at all. So I went in my car, turned on the heater, and put on 3 more pairs of socks to try and counter-act the freezing temperatures. 

Once I could feel my toes, I went into the extraordinarily dark woods searching for firewood. After what I would estimate to be about .25 miles, I finally found enough wood to make and keep a fire going. I brought it back to my campsite, and then spent the next 30 minutes trying to START a fire. I finally got it going, and spent the next 30 minutes trying to KEEP the fire going. It was barely enough to keep me warm, and I think the work I did keeping it going kept me warmer than the actual fire itself.

It got to be around 9:00 and the fire had gone out, and that's when I noticed the starts. Not a cloud in the sky, nor a light for 5 miles (save for the one inside the bathroom building 200 feet away). I don't know if you remember those big SkyDomes from elementary school or not, but the experience is similar. You know, those big, gray domes where you crawl inside and see the stars on the ceiling? Well out in the country, with little light pollution, the view is absolutely breathtaking. The phrase itself is trite, but apt. It looks like someone poked tiny holes in a blanket of black, letting the stars shine through. I wished to myself that Shelby could be here to see this, because it was our shared love of stars that brought us together in the first place. It really is one of the best things I've seen on my trip so far. I look forward to seeing much more of it in the future.

I decided to go to bed around 10 and try to block out the freezing cold by using my expensive propane powered space heater. It turns out it only heats things a foot or less in front of it, and was therefore useless to me. Before I completely gave up on it I had the bright idea of putting in under my covers (instead of just near them) so it would warm the inside of my sleeping area. I watched it for a second to make sure nothing was going to catch on fire, and turned around to get my laptop out. As I was pulling the laptop out of its bag, my bed suddenly deflated and I smelled burning plastic. I thought "Holy shit!" and quickly shoved the heater away from the bed onto the plastic floor of the tent. So I pushed it away from one plastic thing onto another. I realized my folly and set it upright, but not before it burned a few slits in the tent. 

Total extent of damage was a busted air mattress, holes burned in my bed sheets and my comforter, and a few slits in the bottom of the tent. I cursed the maker of that piece of shit space heater that cost me 60 bucks (plus whatever it will cost to replace the stuff it burned). It isn't totally the heater's fault for burning my stuff, but if it did a better job of heating in the first place, I wouldn't have stuck it next to my things. I put it behind me (metaphorically) and got on with watching Eureka on my laptop. I got through an episode and a half before my battery died.  By that time, it was definitely night night time.

I woke up around 1 bc my body said I had too much water before I went to sleep. I ran to the bathroom (not for urgency, but to try and generate heat), and back to my tent. The running caused me to be wide awake, so I started reading Into the Wild. I only got about 30 pages in, but it was fantastic. I wished to myself that I had the guts to go do something like that, but came to realize I never would. I wasn't too disappointed in that fact, because I like my life and the people in it. Taking up the life he led would mean isolating myself from everything I've ever known, which I am not prepared to do. 

I finally got back to sleep around 2 and slumbered through the 34 degree night. "What a day," I thought, "what a day."

Day 7 - 14 11/15/08 - 11/22/08 aka Downtime in Atlanta

Atlanta was a lot of fun for me personally, but doesn't hold a lot of outside interest, as far as you (the reader) is concerned. I expanded my sporting horizons with a winning game of capture the flag and two losing games of whiffle ball, neither of which I had ever played. Capture the flag was by far the more fun of the two (winning may have helped), and it taught me a very valuable lesson. Well, retaught me. If I ever get chased by a criminal, I'm fucked. I sprinted as fast as my long legs would take me for about, I don't know 75-100 yards or so, and was severely out of breath. Not your regular, "Wow, I'm winded" out of breath. This was like, "I can't even inhale because I'm so tired" out of breath. 

Given that the last time I ran any considerable amount for soccer in 9th grade, I felt pretty good about myself for outrunning the girl chasing me, who at the time I thought was a very in shape soccer player. Turns out she has no ACL. Not a torn ACL, but NO ACL. So it turns out I can just barely outrun somebody missing a major ligament in their knee. But it was fun none the less. 

The rest of my time in Atlanta consisted of a lot of video games and watching of the Sci-Fi channel show Eureka on my laptop. I learned how to play drums on Rock Band 2. I got pretty good, if I say so myself. Good being I can pass most songs on hard with 85 percent or better. In this case, most meaning 12 out of the 15 songs I played. 

Apple and I went to the Coke museum on Friday the 21st. It was rather fun. They confiscated my pocket knife upon entry, we listened to a tour guide talk about the history of Coke for a bit, then went in to watch a mildly entertaining take on what goes on inside a Coke machine. After that we saw how Coke is made (apparently not with cocaine anymore....lame. Not because cocaine is awesome, but what sense does it make to get rid of the namesake of your product? It's like if KFC would stop serving chicken.) Anyway, we also saw tons of memorabilia and a 4-D movie about the uniqueness of Coke. 

Then the grand finally, the product tasting portion. Over 60 Coca-Cola products from all over the world. Most were gross, others were tolerable, one or two were actually ok, and then there was the Beverly. Now, you may think certain things you have eaten or drunk (or drank?) through the years have tasted bad, but they don't compare. This Italian beverage was a mixture of bitter, sour, and other bad tastes I can't even describe. Couple that with carbonation and the aftertaste that rivals Hitler in horribleness, and you have the Beverly. Well maybe not Hitler, but it was definately the suckkkk.

Other highlights of Atlanta include eating Mellow Mushroom pizza for the first time (which is quite delicious, but not quite delicious enough to cost 19 bucks), and free cafeteria food (sometimes). Other times the caf. workers would take my money. Apparently Oglethorpe doesn't do guest meals, so that's an interesting bit of trivia. 

Saturday night was my last night in Atlanta, and headed out Sunday before noon. Well, almost headed out. But that post to follow soon. Right now it is 1:30 in the morning and I am ready for bed. Nighty night.

Day 6 - 11/14/08 Goodbye Nashville, Hello Atlanta

I'll do my best to remember how everything went down during this week, but I may be hazy and vague on most things, because I'm writing this on the (technically) 25th. So here is my best approximation of my last day in Nashville and my time in Atlanta.

Friday (day 6) I woke up around 9 to get showered and packed and all that so I would have time to do everything I wanted in Nashville, see Rock City on the outskirts (don't get a chance to use that word often) of Chattanooga, and get to Atlanta at a reasonable hour. I bid adieu to my wonderful hosts around 10:45 and cruised on over to the Parthenon (again). This time I got to see the inside. The lower floor is an art museum, of which there is a main room and the hallways surronding it. The main room housed possibly the worst photography exhibit of all time. It was a dozen or so photos of small, whispy clouds. They weren't awesome or out of the ordinary clouds. Just regular, actually below average, clouds. But the hallways had lots of impressionistic art and that was cool. Oh, and there was also a Katrina photo exhibit in the back room (that I forgot to mention earlier) which was basically a conglomerate of photos from newspapers of wet houses. 

The upper half was a replica of what the original would have looked like inside (with a few additions). There was a 40 something foot tall statue of Athena, with a 6'4" statue of an angel thing whose name I forget in her hand. I can't say the gold plating and bizarre makeup sat well with my viewing palette, but I'm also not from ancient Greece. Maybe that was the "in" thing. Overall, the Parthenon was really cool, and anyone passing through Nashville should check it out.

As I was leaving the Parthenon, a flock of geese decided they wanted to cross the road from the center patch of grass back to the river across the cul-de-sac. The funny thing was they all walked in single file, reminiscent of the Peabody ducks, only the geese weren't trained and there was no elevator at the end of a red carpet. 

I went from the Parthenon to the Grand Ole Opry. I didn't fancy a tour, but I did go in the gift shop and took a picture in front of the legendary country music hall. If you enjoy 40 dollar t shirts and 8 dollar pens, the Opry gift shop was built just for you. 

The Opry was my last stop in Nashville, and I left around 12:45 or so. Google told me it would take about 3 hours to get from Nashville to Rock City, meaning I would get there with just enough time to explore the 1.5 hour attraction before sunset. As fate would have it, the weather took a turn for the worse and grey skies quickly turned to black when Chattanooga was still an hour away. I hoped for the best, but instead it got misty and darker. In other words, I had to bypass Rock City (for now). I stopped at a random Wal Mart with an impressive outside view of a mountain to get some supplies (Mountain Dew, turkey, bread, beans, and pudding). 

I made it in to Atlanta around 7 pm, if my memory serves me correctly. I had a bit of trouble finding Oglethorpe, but I managed to get there with a few phone calls to Apple and some Googling. Just as a side note, my computer is telling me Oglethorpe is not a word, but Googling is. Anyway, I got unpacked in Apple's massive dorm (1 extra large bedroom, 1 pretty big common room, 1 full bath, and two sinks), and thus began my "downtime in Atlanta."

Day 5 - 11/13/08

Today was a successful day. Woke up late again, didn't get started to about 1 again, and the day was on. It started off at Belle Meade Plantation, home to many of the 19th and 20th century champion thoroughbred race horses. The tour guide was pretty new and a bit off (personality wise), but knowledgeable. It was worth the $7 entry fee.

Afterwards, I went to the Nashville Parthenon. Sounds real cheesy, but it's actually off the hook. It's a lifesize replica of the original Parthenon in Greece. As fantastic as it was on the outside, I couldn't go on the inside because it was closed by the time I got there. So I'm going to try again tomorrow. I did get a few pictures of me in front of it though.

After the Parthenon, I tried to make my way to a bar and grill called 3rd and Lindsley. I found a parking garage on third street, only I didn't realize Lindsley was a mile away. So I got back in my car, paid my $6 to get out, and tried to find my way there.

Found the place, watched the show, even bought the cd. In case you're wondering, the performer was Brendan James. He's worth a look up for sure.

Anywho, some other hoo-ha happened, and I wound up at another show at 11. Watched a band set up for 45 minutes, listened to them sound like crap, and then waited for the headliner. The first band was Cigarrette Trees, and they were trying so hard to have a gimic, they forgot they actually had to learn to play their instruments. So I watched a guy who looked like the singer from the Used, a guy with black teeth, a guy who looked like Ryan Rocket, and a girl who thought she was an 1860's wench play basically noise.

Anyway, the next band was an electronic group called Fly Golden Eagle. They were halfway decent, but nothing to sceam about. Now its 2 am and I'm ready for bed. Nighty night.

Day 4 - 11/12/08

GRACELAND, home of the King himself. That's right, day 4 was allll about Graceland. I woke up around 11 and got the day off to a slow start. I made the decision to leave Memphis after Graceland, so I spent some time online trying to set up where I was going to sleep in Nashville. After that was all done, I got showered and such, got directions from Google, and made my way towards Graceland.

Ahhhh, the hell that is the Memphis road system. Let me tell you about how many Memphis roads work. A three lane highway will suddenly become 2, or even one, without any warning. There are very few "Left (or right) Turn Only" signs, but apparently you're just supposed to KNOW that the lane your in only goes left of right. Even though sometimes the outside lanes continue across the intersection, some of the time they don't.

Anyway, in one such intersection, I wanted to go straight, but could not. I then tried to navigate the many random one way roads and angled intersections to try and find my back on course. I ended up in Arkansas. That's right, Memphis is so fucked up, I went from trying to get to Graceland, to Arkansas. A completely different state altogether. But not before seeing the pretty badass Pyramid Arena. I'm pretty sure it's the Memphis basketball arena, but it looks like a big pyramid....hence the name Pyramid Arena. I'll post the link to the photos of my trip at the top of the blog sometime soon.

So anyway, after stopping at the Tennesee welcome center for directions, I finally found my way to Graceland around 2:30 or so. I bought my Platinum tour package, and went off to see the mansion of Elvis Presley.

Now, by size standards, it's nothing to gawk at. Don't get me wrong, there's a reason they call it a mansion, but Elvis doesn't have anything on Shaq when it comes to sheer size (of the home). Now the decorations on the other hand, were the shit. I'll let you look at the pictures yourself, but let me assure you, they don't do the house justice. Especially the basement. Elvis had a bitchin basement.

There's also a 100+ foot hallway lined floor to ceiling with gold and platinum records and other various awards. Lots o lots of gold. Among the other highlights of the tour were the bedroom in his private jet, his car museum (complete with pink caddy) and an entire room full of studded jumpsuits.

After the awesomeness of Graceland (and the dodging of too many gift shops) it was on my way to Nashville. I braved torrential rains and pitch black stretches of highway to arrive in Nashville by 10. I met my new couchsurfing hosts, we chatted for awhile, and then it was off to bed!

Turns out my hosts are all muscians of some sort, so we had fun swapping music stories and favorite bands and such. Good times. I ended up konking out halfway through Hot Fuzz (good movie).

Day 3 – 11/11/08 This is where the fun begins...

Note: Recommended that all readers under 16 skip day 3

Woke up when Shelby called at 6 am, couldn’t go back to sleep, so went to gas station were internet was available and started trying to find lodging in Memphis. Went to birthplace of elvis around 830. Explored the outside til the museum opened at 9.

Met a crazy, gay, old man named Ivy. My first encounter with Ivy was when I first entered the Elvis museum. He greeted me first with a pat on the back to get my attention, and told me I was going to really enjoy the museum. Not too weird, just normal, friendly staff doing their job. He then proceeds to introduce himself as Ivy and offers me his hand. I shake it and introduce myself as Alex. Still not weird, as we’re just two strangers meeting for the first time.

After a short handshake, Ivy leans in for a hug. And not a regular one. This hug was awkwardly long and the embrace too tight for comfort. I awkwardly gave him the one-armed pat on the back in return. As he (finally) pulled away he told me to “mash” the red buttons on the videos in the museum to watch them. As he told me this he had his right arm tucked under his left armpit, with his left wrist limp, letting his hand dangle. That gave a better explanation to the awkwardly long and tight embrace. He walked away as I made a mental note to try and avoid him later on.

I finished my self-guided tour through the museum of Elvis’ early life and moved on to the inside of the “House where Rock n Roll was born.” It was a very simple two room shotgun house with one bedroom and a kitchen. Seemed nice enough. After I was done with that I moved on to the church that Elvis attended and learned to pick the “gi-tar” as the guide told us. After the fairly boring videotaped re-enactment of a few songs Elvis would have sung in church, I headed out the door and was about to leave.

As I was headed towards my car, I noticed a statue of a 13-year old Elvis of which I had not yet taken a picture. I took a picture of it, and was just about to move one when I heard a voice about 70 feet away say “let me get you in there with ‘im.” I turned to see a)wo the voice belonged to and b)if they were talking to me. Sure enough, here comes Ivy quick-walking his 75 years of age down a flight of stairs to help me out. I thought, “Goddddd damn it. I don’t want this guy to hug me again.” But I did want a picture of me with young Elvis, so I let Ivy take a picture of me with Elvis. I thanked him, and then he offered his hand as if for another handshake. I still remembered what happened last time I shook his hand, but couldn’t be rude and let him hang like that, so I shook his hand.

As I expected, Ivy moves in for another hug. “Fuckin a,” I thought. “What is it with this guy and awkward hugs?” To make matters even a bit weirder he gave me his address with a postcard and told me to drop him a line sometime. I accepted it without the intention of using it, and said goodbye.

Apparently he didn’t recognize the syllables of “good” and “bye” and mistook them for “follow” and “me.” He followed me to my car, talking about his wife (nice cover) and his children and grandchildren (even better). I tried to leave one last time and then he stuck that damn hand of his out again.

I don’t know what I was thinking. I was standing nearly my full arm’s length away from him, but he still managed to yank me in for one last too-long hug. Only this time, this guy actually scratched my bag and said, “Give your back a little scratch,” in a tone that can best be described as on par with the old man obsessed with Chris on Family Guy. You know, the one with the lisp and the freezer full of popsicles who misses the paper boy all the time? Ya, not as funny in person. Or at all.

I literally had to push this guy off of me so I could leave. He asked me if I knew my way out and I told him I did (even though I had no idea). I didn’t manage to get a picture of him because I thought that would have to lead to a picture WITH him, and that would not have been comfortable…possibly not even safe.

He will forever be known in my mind as the crazy old man from Tupelo. I hope I don’t meet a crazy old man from anywhere else. Or at least, not his brand of crazy. One is enough for me.

Now on to the second part of day 3. I made my way up to Memphis and got in around 1:30. I was trying to find Graceland, but ended up at Sun Records instead, and thought, “Eh, good enough.” So I popped in to view all the overpriced t-shirts, posters, cds, and other various musical goodies and see how much of a hole a tour would burn through me wallet. A whopping ten dollars! However, it was very much worth it. I got to see where people like Elvis, Johnny Cash, and Jerry Lee Lewis got there start. I even got to take a picture with the mic-stand Elvis used when recording his first hit, “It’s Alright Mama.” That was pretty B.A.

By the time the sarcastic tour guide (who had done waaaay too many of these tours) finished his routine and all the pictures were taken, it was bordering 4 o’clock. This meant I wouldn’t have any time to get to Graceland bc the ghost of Elvis goes to sleep at 4. Or at least, that’s when the last tour starts. And yes, I know, there is no ghost of Elvis. That would be weird. Who’s ever heard of a ghost of a living man?

Anyway, I saw the Peabody Hotel was just down the street, so I cruised over to Taco Bell to grab a light (I think quick would be a more fit term) snack and then perfectly parallel parked a block from the hotel and ate my bean burrito and triple layer nachos, steak-out style. When 4:50 rolled around, it was time to head in to the hotel because the ducks walked out of the fountain, down the red carpet, and into the elevator at precisely 5 pm. I dodged about 5 dodgy characters in the 1 block distance between my car and my destination.

By the time I got to the hotel lobby, a large crowd of approximately 100 people had already gathered around all the best picture points, leaving me stranded in the back with nothing more than a tall guy’s view of the scene. I tried to snap some pictures, but to no avail. Alas, the silver haired lady in front of me schemed to ruin all of my pictures, thinking her block of a head was what I really wanted photos of, not amazingly cute ducks walking in a line down a red carpet into an elevator. And she’s right…who would want to see that? Pshhh, tourists….

I surfed the net in a local gas station parking lot waiting for my lodgings for the night to call. I’m sure that sentence is not worded correctly, but it is 12:11 am and I only got 4 hours of sleep last night because I was in my car, so why don’t we just let is slide? Justin (the guy whose house I’m staying at) calls about 6:30 and gives me directions. I show up to find that his room-mate and best friend is also named Justin.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of me and Apple (aka Alex Van Zandt) who share a first name and a lifelong friendship. Apparently, the Justins have been friends since kindergarden, much as Apple and I have been. I thought it a bit bizarre, they agreed, and we moved on.

Since they were giving me a free place to sleep, I took them out to dinner. We got some moderately delicious pulled pork sandwiches from a place whose name I cannot recall. I’m pretty certain it started with a C, but don’t hold me to it. We got to know each other a bit better, and they both turned out to be pretty cool guys. We got back to the house, watched some Family Guy and Children of Men, and now it is bedtime.

I’ll be spending my day tomorrow at Graceland, so I’ll let you know how it goes when I get back.

Day 2 – 11/10/08

woke up around 10am, lollygagged, packed up, showered, and was on the road by 1:00. Took Natchez trace parkway to tupelo. Saw historic sites such as where the Choctaw gave up their land and the French Camp where Greenwood Lefleur lived (last chief of Choctaw) got into tupelo around 730, couldn’t find a place to sleep because they were all booked or closed, so slept in parking lot of Microtel. Treated myself to subway since lodging was free.

Day 1 - 11/09/08

Woke up at 830, picked up Shelby at 855, went to ihop to meet mary and tony at 910. Tony was late, didn’t get there til 940. Some bs about his bike being across campus.
Finished around 1040, went to target to exchange small tent for bigger one. Got home at 1140, set up tent, took it down, by 1230. Said bye to tony and mary, started packing around 1.
Shelby made sandwhiches and cookies, finished packing around 345, brought Shelby home, dropped off cds at library, dropped off when worlds collide that I didn’t even get to watch at blockbuster, filled up at pilot in Denham springs, and was on the road by 445.
Made it to Jackson, started setting up around 8, finished at 9. talked to Shelby, watched blade 2, went to bed. Sort of. Froze in the 45 degree weather with no heating apparatus. Slept in jeans, 2 tshirts, black jacket, blanket, comforter, sleeping bag, with two pairs of socks. Didn’t get to sleep til almost 6 am the next day.