I just got back from Savannah. Thought for a minute there I wasn't going to be able to go. Started feeling extra gross at work on Friday night, wound up coming straight home from work instead of going downtown to see the b.h. play. Hot shower, emergen-c packet, and piles of blankets. Slept and watched TV. Woke to pick up the b.h. around two, came home and passed out again, woke up feeling fine. I think the pollen just got to me.
Anyway, we got an early start, went down to Ike and Jane's for breakfast sandwiches and coffee and doughnuts. Drove straight through with only one stop, and went immediately to the club to check in. The band was an hour behind us due to a keys-locked-in-van incident. We headed over to the Sentient Bean for coffee and then to the SCAD shop. I love that place. Student art for sale, and some of it very good. Nothing I could afford that really struck my fancy, though. The band called when they got to the club and we headed back there.
Parking was a bit of a bitch. The club was on River Street, which is the mainest of main drags on the riverfront (thus the name), which was packed with people because of the absolutely lovely weather. Having already made that mistake once, the b.h. and I decided instead to park several blocks away and walk with both of his guitars and his suitcase o' pedals and such. No problem. Then we stood around for an eternity waiting for the other band to load out. We didn't really mind, though, because we were able to buy beer and stand out on the street drinking it. We did because we could, and because of the aforementioned incredible weather. After that was load in and soundcheck, which I managed to avoid most of by walking down the waterfront with R while the b.h. checked and leaving when the other band did.
The b.h. and D and I walked over to the Moon River Brewery and waited at the bar for the other guys. I had a Swamp Fox IPA. It was delicious.
We were seated in the main room, still waiting for the other guys to arrive from sound check. D had his back to the front door. Through the crowd I saw some frat boys and sorostitutes in Full Confederate Regalia, and they were making their way in our direction. When they passed our table, D looked up in disgust and said quite loudly "You guys are hilarious", in a tone indicating that he did not, in fact, find it hilarious.
I find the whole thing quite confusing myself. The fascination with a war that no one ever spoke of outside of history class where I come from. Technically those people were traitors, and since many if not all of those people claim to be patriots, I don't see why they feel the need to celebrate. Also, I can't imagine how the black people who were present (waiters and bartenders in this case) must feel at the sight of these people, but since I am not a real Southerner I more often than not feel like the best bet is to keep my mouth shut. As far as I am concerned, these people might as well be walking around in KKK robes or Nazi uniforms, but generally I am able to simply ignore it. Not so with D. He was obviously pissed (in both senses of the word, I now realized), and made it known. I was worried that we were only three and they appeared to be younger, more fit, and in greater numbers. Not that I am afraid of a broad in a hoopskirt, mind you, but the boys were definitely of the large and cornfed variety. Luckily the rest of the guys showed up just then, and we were distracted by food and fun.
I ordered onion rings and a dip-thingie made from cream cheese, sundried tomatoes, and roasted garlic to share with everybody, and leek and goat cheese cakes for myself. This is what I had last time we were here, and though I prefer to be more adventurous, there were not a lot of veggie options. I was very happy with all of my selections.
AT one point I stepped outside for a smoke break with R, again mostly because it was beautiful out and I could bring my beer along, and the first guy I saw was in a confederate uniform. I asked if I could take my picture with him, and could I please hold his sword? Then I found out that he was the Haunted Savannah Tour Guide.
"Oh, so you're not really a racist, you just get paid to wear that, huh?" I smirked. Holding the sword point to his throat was not near as fun.
Another fratty couple came up in uniform and I got a picture with them. It's one of those "the folks back home are never gonna believe this" things. By back home, of course, I mean Chicago. No one in Athens will have trouble believing.
We returned to the club stuffed to the gills and waited a short time for the bands to start playing. It was a fun show but a long one, and we were all ready to get to sleep when it was over.
Hilariously, River street was now blocked on one side with illegally parked cars, and on the other was a very long, seemingly immobile line of traffic. Two of the guys wound up walking back two blocks to get the van, then we waited while they sat in traffic, then we blocked traffic while all scrambling to get the gear in. The guys in the little SUV immediately behind the van seemed totally relaxed, watching us calmly through the windshield while thumping bass poured from their over-sized speakers. In fact, nobody honked or complained at all, which was odd but a relief. There was simply no other way for us to load out. No one from the club bothered to help us, despite there being at least two young and able-bodied men right next to the door and absolutely no business now that the bands had finished. I doubt they'll be going back there.
We spent all day Sunday walking around. The guys went home early, and the b.h. and I had the whole day to ourselves, knowing that our capable dog-sitter would be staying at least until two. We got breakfast at Clary's which I found mostly disappointing this time, and then coffee at the Sentient Bean (again), and walked through square after square all the way to the river from the far side of Forsyth Park. Then we walked down the river and turned back, this time walking a very different and less populated set of squares. We stopped in a lovely French decor shop, which D had mentioned the day before. I fell in love with a piece of art that was $1400. Of course. Champagne taste and a beer budget, as they say. I bought a greeting card and we continued on. The walk was fantastic, the weather perfect. We decided that were we to move to Savannah, this would be the neighborhood we would live in. I took a ton of pictures. There are so many tiny details on houses and gates there. It's like a treasure hunt in a way. I love (visiting) that place.
After we got back to the car we bought refills and pastries and started home.
The drive was uneventful, and when we returned we found treasure, in the form of school loan documents, waiting in the mailbox. Hoo-fucking-ray.

Savannah, Part Three.

On Monday we ate breakfast at Clary's. I had The Elvis (French toast with peanut butter and bananas) and a fried egg. I barely ate half of the French toast, but the others were more than happy to help out. After we ate we went out to Tybee Island to see Fort Pulaski, still mostly intact despite the Civil War (or the "War of Northern Aggression", depending on where you stand). We stayed for the Musket firing demonstration, in which a young lady in a Union uniform showed off her skills. I asked her afterward if she had pissed somebody off, gesturing to her blue uniform, and was told that they only wear Confederate gray on Sundays. Ah. Anyway, the fort was neat, the weather was nice but windy, and a good time was had by all. Net we dropped my bro-in-law back at the hotel to do more work and went to the Telfair Museum, where I was able to snap just one photo (sans flash, of course) before being politely asked not to continue by the security guard. I apologized profusely and put my camera away. Until he left, and I saw an enormous painting that was just so indescribable in it's scale that I walked all the way across the room and took a picture of the b.h. standing near it so you can see just how fucking huge it is. I did not get caught, and I have no regrets. I am such a rebel.
That night we had dinner at the Moon River Brewery. The beer was fantastic. I tried the Sweet Potato Ale, which was just too sweet for me, so I gave it to my b.i.l. He enjoyed it immensely and ordered another. In the over twenty years that I have known him, this is the most I have ever seen him drink.
I ordered myself a porter, which I ate with some glorious onion rings and goat cheese and leek cakes, which also came with a side of lentils. Yum. I had no room for dessert, but since we went back to Clary's again for breakfast on our way out of town it was no biggie. I had yet another order of French toast, this one with cream cheese and cherries. We drove my sister and b.i.l to the airport, returned to the hotel and went back to bed. The bed was giant and loaded with pillows and covered in 600 thread-count sheets, so we had a difficult time leaving.
On the way out of town, we went back to the Sentient Bean for coffee and swung by a market we had ventured into on the first day for a large bag of pink lady apples. I have no idea where these little jewels have been all my life, but dear god I am glad I found them. They are so brightly colored as to appear almost fake, and impossibly crunchy and sweet/tart, which is exactly what I want in an apple. They were seriously a highlight of the trip.
We took the long cut home and arrived just after the sun went down. As we were pulling into town, the big story on NPR news was the arrest of the Illinois Governor on corruption charges. A perfect end to a perfect trip. I can't wait to go back.

Ahhhh...

Just got back from a short vacation to Savannah with the b.h. We met my sister and her husband down there on Saturday. It was lovely. I am relaxed and stuffed, and very nearly fully restored, though I don't expect any of those feelings will last. I took a ton of pictures, which I hope to get around to posting soon. For now I am on the couch with a beer and the laptop and I've no intention of getting up except to go to bed. Tomorrow I will work a double, then Thursday night I work at the Local Liquor Store, Then another double on Friday, then the LLS again on Saturday night. But I don't mind. It was well worth it to get out of town for a minute.
Our room was on the third floor of the Hyatt, overlooking the river on one side and River Street on another. I took a million pictures of the giant cargo ships passing by. I hope some of them turn out.
The b.h. and I both tried to get Saturday off so we could get and early start, but he couldn't, and since he had to go to work I decided I would too. That was perhaps not my best decision. I did get a lot of work done, though, and still had time to get some laundry done and straighten up for J, who was once again dog/house sitting.
So we got a late start, but we made good time, and we got to the hotel around nine pm. I always have a hard time valet parking our car, because it is twelve (almost thirteen now) years old and dented and full of dog hair and has a cracked windshield and it just feels ridiculous, but it is obligatory at the Hy@tt in Savannah, so we sucked it up. We had quite a bit of junk even though we were only staying a couple of days, and the b.h. and I were struggling to carry it all when we got to the revolving door at the front entrance to the hotel. There was a very drunk woman already in the revolving door, going round and round quickly and merrily, oblivious to our struggles. When her husband finally jerked her out of it, the b.h. and I both balked and then both ducked in at the same time. Into the same section. Loaded down with bags. It took a moment, but we somehow managed to get the thing 'round to the lobby side, and we spilled out and stumbled to the front desk to get our room keys.
Once upstairs, we dumped our bags on the various flat surfaces in our room, and I knocked on my sister's door (their room was next to ours). They stepped through the middle door into our room and I poured a Stone Russian Imperial Stout for her and I to share (neither of our men drink). After we finished that and remarked about how cool the view was, we set out to find food. Unfortunately we went straight down River Street, which was full of crappy bars and crappy bar food, but settled on a decent gyro (and free baklava!) before returning to the hotel. We had another beer and went to bed early.
More later. The b.h. just turned on our new copy of Batman (The Dark Knight), which J left for us as a gift for - for letting us watch our dogs(?) Best. Dog-sitter. Ever.