Savannah

Savannah was a beautiful blur of cobble-stone paths, oak tree and spanish moss canopies and sunshine. While there I heard Gregorian chants at an old church, met a spoken word poet from Cleveland, and wandered aimlessly through the beautiful historic district. The city is drenched in history; parks exists every few blocks with commemorative statues and plaques, an old cemetery filled with victims of a yellow fever outbreak has been turned into a beautiful public park and horse drawn carriages meander through the streets. Two southern gentlemen out for a mid-afternoon stroll kindly shared their abundant knowledge of US history and historic Savannah with us. They directed us to many historic houses and knew obscure facts about many places in the city. I was glad that what they say about southern hospitality is true, strangers stop to chat with you in the street, and I wouldn't have been surprised if someone had invited me onto their porch for a nice cold glass of lemonade. -Bets

Crossing the border into America is akin entering an entirely new world. A world filled with billboards for hospitals, shooting ranges and cheap alcohol and cigarettes. It's a world that seems to be fuelled entirely by fried chicken and guns, and which is so vastly different from home. On the first day we left Sarnia, well fed and under rested and headed down to Chattanooga Tennessee. En route we saw several cop cars hold guns at a fugitive in his car, a thousand billboards for "The Waffle House" and a car which appeared to be smoking as it raced down the I-75. Upon arriving in Chattanooga, we got out of the car only to see a stylish man dressed to the nines in a well tailored suit and sporting a fedora. Thank you for confirming my stereotypes deep south. That evening after feasting on more chicken than I thought humanly possible, we downed our 36 PBRs and wandered the town. Outside a classy bar (not classy in the slightest) I witnessed my first ever brawl which was filled with spitting in the face, quasi curb stomping and lots of sucker punches. It was frightening. My friends and I calmly waited for our hotdogs while the hotdog stand man looked on as if it happened every night. He obviously had a gun hidden amongst all of those condiments. -Bets

cookies, cats, and coffee.

A lazy week in someone else's home.

Food with friends, bookseller backgammon.

Top floor suite suits me just fine.

I wonder how you're doing down south, Bets.

Dev.

Things I have accomplished this week:
1. Gave myself a stress induced fever
2. Became sleep deprived
3. Turned 21
4. Drank too much wine and four loko
In the next 65 hours or so, I have three midterms. The moment my last midterm is over, I'll be rushing over to pick up my rental car and heading down south. Hopefully for some adventures. Definitely for some fried food, seafood, country roads, mountains and ocean. Thursday can't come quick enough and I'm more restless than I thought possible. I'm thirsting for some sunshine and seersucker.
I'll report back soon.
-Bets

Done with the Doldrums

This winter has been 100% discombobulating to a kid like me, who enjoys climatic consistency. I never bother to check the weather during winter since it's guaranteed to be frigid each day, but these last few months have shattered my delusions of what winter is. I think in total there's been about 2 weeks of snow. It just keeps snowing and melting and snowing again. Right now we're in the throes of an unseasonably warm melted period. Today when I woke up, the sun was shining in merrily through my window, the sky was blue and the outside world looked entirely enticing. My roommate and I were lured outside by the inviting outside world, we hopped on our bikes (I hadn't really thought of riding my bike before this weekend. It's February. February does not equate leisure cycling in my world) and went down to the river for an adventure. There's no better feeling than a sunny day after a few grey, gloomy months.

-Bets

the giving tree.

"Once there was a tree..

and she loved a little boy"

Shel Silverstein

Behold the heart-breakingly romantic beauty of this ring by Digby & Iona. 

Now watch the video about it. 

/ swoon. 

Makes a girl long for a Valentine. 

post.

The Jolly Postman 

There are few things better than writing a letter to a friend. 

Perhaps there is only one thing better; receiving a letter in return. 

Mail Related Thoughts:

I got your card in the mail yesterday, Bets! It made me ever so happy.

I've been thinking about the letter I sent my pen pal in August that was never replied to. I think I'll write another one. It could have been lost on the journey overseas.

I bought this book of letters last week.

I'm eyeing Letters to a Young Poet as my next read.

I subscribed to this two days ago. Very excited to receive my first correspondence.

"Letter writing is the only device for combining solitude with good company" - Lord Byron
I like this quote, mostly because I find it true. Writing letters makes me feel simultaneously sociable and reclusive.

Dev.