
In refreshing contrast to I-95, Route 17 through the South Carolina Lowcountry is a very scenic drive. The highway skims through salt marshes and lush forests that seem to grow straight out of the water. Continue reading

In refreshing contrast to I-95, Route 17 through the South Carolina Lowcountry is a very scenic drive. The highway skims through salt marshes and lush forests that seem to grow straight out of the water. Continue reading

Charleston isn’t real. It’s too pretty. Too clean. Too polite. I pinched myself but it was still there. I pinched myself again but people started to stare and lead their children across the street.

This is Natty at 8:00am. Excited. Bright eyed. Totally pumped to go for a ride in the car. Continue reading

With check out at 11am, and a flight at 9:30pm, I had a buttload of time to kill today. Continue reading

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You can tell a lot about a neighborhood by the graffiti on the bathroom walls.
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The Greek Omelet sounded like a good choice at Tavern on Rush.
But it wasn’t a good choice. It sucked. The spinach was watery. And they didn’t cut it up, so you’d get these big wads of wet spinach. Also, it was bland.

There’s a coffee shop in Chicago called the Bourgeois Pig. They make a terrific breakfast burrito, generously stuffed with scrambled egg, onions, cheese, bacon and sour cream.

I don’t know what I was thinking booking a 6:50 am flight to Chicago.
Probably “6:50’s not that early.”
But I forgot about the “you have to get to the airport 2 hours early part.” So I was up at 4:00 am.
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This morning I got up early, checked out of the hotel and drove to Westport, CT. Continue reading

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You’re reading this because I didn’t die.
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