Archive | July, 2009

Once, many years ago, I had my heart broken by a boy. And he was ruthless, in a way so creative and diabolical, that it was humorous. Like the time we bought a joint birthday present for a friend, and he replaced my name on the tag with his new girlfriend’s. Or the way he’d ignore me until I found other prospects, and then come over just long enough to steal their phone numbers from my hand (yes, this actually happened). (more…)

 

This photo has nothing to do with anything. I just think the phrase I NUT semEn is funny. (Photo courtesy of sister72 via flickr.com)

This photo has nothing to do with anything. I just think the phrase "I NUT semEn" is awesome. (Photo courtesy of sister72 via flickr.com)

Because I LOVE hearing what I have to say (and I know that you do, too), I’m launching a new weekly feature on the blog: Ask the Everywhereist. It’s where you can ask me all the burning questions that keep you up at night. Questions such as: ‘Where can I find the best pizza in San Francisco?’ ‘Can I travel even if I’m on probation?’ And, ‘I heard that “pizza” is San Franciscan slang for blow job. That’s true, right?’

Of course, right now my readership currently consists of my husband (hi, baby!), Philip (hi, ass-face!), and occassionally Susan (hi, sweetie). And they all know the answers to those questions. So either they need to take on aliases, or the rest of you better get a-typing. Send your questions to contact-at-everywhereist-dot-com. Keep an eye out for my replies every Thursday, and the wrath of my readers sometime shortly afterwards.

 

It’s 104 degrees in Seattle … do you know where your camera is?

This was going to be a post about what happens when a city full of pasty white left-coasters reaches temperatures above 100 degrees. I was going to brave downtown Seattle, on what is the hottest day on record (though rumor has it that one day – back when we were still part of the primordial ooze – was hotter). I was going to take lots of photos, of people running around in shorts, of packed malls, and of the crazy old guy who screams on the corner of 5th and Pine (who, to his credit, was out there today as well). I even lugged my miserably huge camera downtown. And when I tried to take a photo, I received the message, the glorious message, that we’ve all gotten at somepoint in time: No Card. My memory card was not in my camera. It was back home, in my laptop, quietly melting. (more…)

I was going to wait a while to post about Oyster.com. Not because I don’t think the site is worth talking about – I most certainly do. Oyster might just be the most reliable hotel review website out there. It sends their team of hopefully-not-too-underpaid writers out to different hotels, and has them scrutinize every inch of their lodgings and report back their findings. No fake positive reviews (which can occasionally happen with other review sites). Just honest, objective summaries. And a name that reminds me of the Lewis Carroll poem, The Walrus and The Carpenter. (more…)

My cousin was born on the day of the moon landing, which makes it incredibly easy to remember his birthday. The day Aston was born is part of family lore: journalists came to interview my aunt in the hospital, thinking that she was going to name him “Astro.” Thank god, at the last minute, she came to her senses, and changed it to Aston. Except for a brief stint in middle school, where kids would say things like “Aston? So your ass weighs a ton?” (a particularly stupid insult, since he had a thyroid condition that made him very underweight), he fared fine. Better than he would have stuck with the name Astro. But I digress. (more…)

My lack of glamour is your gain.

My lack of glamour is your gain.

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Photo courtesy of hyku, via flickr.com

I’ve been reading the TSA blog, which is a dark and ugly place. Then again, so is the TSA itself. Seriously – have you seen the new Harry Potter movie? Remember the part with those freaky zombie guys who look suspiciously like Gollum? The TSA seems kind of like that. You want to tread carefully for fear of disturbing them, because if you do, they’ll pull you down to murky depths of a lake and you’ll be totally screwed. (more…)

This city guide probably won’t help anyone. Or rather, it will probably only help me, in a cathartic sense. It probably won’t help you plan a trip to San Diego, unless you plan on staying with my family.

And while they’ll probably take you in, I don’t know that I’d recommend it. Or maybe I would. I keep going back and forth about the whole thing. (more…)