Happy Birthday to Me If anyone still reads this thing on the reg (and let's face it, this is, like, my fourth update in 2013, so I kind of doubt it), you know that I made approximately 10,847 plans for my birthday last year, ranging from going to Los Angeles to see the LA Bluegrass Situation to seeing one of my favorite comedians perform in Atlanta...and
every single one of them fell through for one reason or another.
This year, I couldn't let that happen. My birthday is in about a week, and while life could be better, I decided to stop everything and treat myself to a 100 percent stress-free trip to the Greatest City in the World. Charleston. And while it wasn't 100 percent stress-free - I didn't even get out of town before realizing I had a flat tire, for example - I did actually get there and had a pretty good time
The GC and Me Head to the Greatest City in the World
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One of my favorite houses in Charleston. |
I decided to take my gay cousin along, as he worked as my assistant when I had to spend some time there in 2011 for work, and he loves the place just as much as I do.Our grandfather was nice enough to loan us one of his cars, so I wouldn't have to worry about getting a new tire until I got back. Unfortunately, the radio in that particular car does not work. The first hour of the trip was fine; we made up songs about our family, and grabbed some food in Conyers. The next four hours were, well, let's just say that driving through backwoods South Carolina towns on a Saturday night in a large SUV that is hard to handle with your gay cousin sitting next to you singing along with his iPod's show tunes playlist at the top of his lungs would have been far more productive in the war against terror than waterboarding, but I digress.
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The GC strolling through an old cemetery on Meeting Street. |
We arrived at our hotel in Mt. Pleasant late Saturday night. Let met just say that the Residence Inn by Marriott is not the most glamorous place, but the rooms are like cute little apartments. I wish I would have discovered it when I was there working for long periods of time.
Exploring Edisto Island
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The choppy waves at Edisto Beach. |
Sunday was fairly uneventful. I got up early and worked on a few articles I needed to finish up, and we didn't leave the room until well around 1 p.m. We stopped by a little bagel shop for lunch, and then we drove out to Edisto Island. I took my mom there in November, and she found the place totally creepy, and because my gay cousin and I love to scare ourselves silly, we decided it would be the perfect place to spend a day. After driving around the island and stopping at an adorable little produce stand to buy some goodies, we walked around on the beach. That didn't last long. The water was cold and choppy, and the hurricane-like winds were blowing the sand so hard against our legs that it stung. That doesn't bother me so much, but my delicate cousin wasn't having it.
Instead of walking along the beach, we decided we'd check out the hiking trails. We decided to take the one that was nearly two miles long as it promised some great Indian mound at the end. While the maritime forest was pretty, hiking four miles in flip-flops was not the best idea I've ever had. I ended up with blisters on my feet, and the Indian mound was less than spectacular, but at least we got some exercise, I suppose.
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The maritime forest on Edisto Island; no alligators :-( |
After that, we went back to Poe's Tavern to eat up all the calories we burned walking and back to the hotel where we spent a great deal of time talking and reading about the Boston marathon bombing suspects.
Yes, folks, this is how I spend my vacations.
The Best Day on the Battery Monday was a little more exciting as we spent the day in Charleston proper. We headed downtown and parked along the battery. My cousin opted to sit in the park and read, while I watched two dolphins frolic in the water. After hanging out for about an hour, we decided to walk down Meeting Street and gaze at the amazing architecture the city is known for. We were only a few houses in when we noticed a sign advertising tours of one of the larger homes. After debating if we really wanted to pay the money just to go inside that house and deciding hell yes, we did, we spent about an hour walking around the garden and then listening to an adorable tour guide gives us the lowdown on the place. After that, we continued our tour, stopping to admire the houses, talk to the
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The mansion we toured. |
residents, and tour old cemeteries and churches.
For lunch we ate at the Brown Dog Deli on Broad Street. Wow is all I can say about that. I am very much a burger and chicken nuggets and whatever you can put ketchup on kind of girl, but my cousin challenged me to order something I wouldn't normally get. Let me just say, if you ever go there, the chipotle chicken pita is to die for!
After a really late lunch, we decided to make our way back to the car and headed back to the hotel. Somewhere along the way, we decided that it would be relaxing to spend the rest of the evening at our favorite spot on the beach in Isle of Palms, but the bugs had other ideas. Seriously, if there is a bug that bites within, like, a two-mile radius, it will find me and eat me up. Unfortunately, about a million of them descended on us at once, so we skipped out of there pretty quickly. Instead of relaxing on the beach, we hung out on Sullivan's Island for a bit. The highlight of that trip was seeing Jenny Sanford getting her workout on. We grabbed some take-out from Poe's (notice a theme here?), headed back to the hotel, and ate and watched TV for a while.
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One of the fountains in the Calhoun house garden. |
The Ghosts For whatever reason, my gay cousin decided we should head back to the battery around 11 p.m. He was determined to play ghost hunters or something, and who am I to turn down the opportunity to be scared to death in the Greatest City in the World? For the most part, the place was empty. I watched the water for a while before joining him in the park where he asked me to recall what I knew about the pirate hanging that took place in the big trees that line the park. For some reason I kept thinking it was slaves, not pirates, so I took out my rusty trusty iPhone to find the real story. This is when things got a bit spooky.
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Love the houses with the red, black, and white/cream. |
I'm sitting on a bench, and he's standing in front of me, and I'm reading the story about the dead pirates that were left hanging in the trees that are surrounding us for several days, and all of the sudden we hear this really loud crack right behind me. Aside from a couple laying in the grass off to our right doing God knows what and some other forlorn-looking dude who seemed to be contemplating jumping into the Cooper River, we were alone, so I have no idea what that was. A few seconds later, we heard another crack just above us; it wasn't quite as loud, and given the pile of white goo that landed by my cousin's shoe, it was totally explainable.
After that, I decided I was not going to sit around and wait for pirate ghosts and/or battery birds to attack,
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No ghosts, but how creepy is this busted grave on Edisto ? |
so we moved out from under the trees, and I looked up more about what areas of town are supposedly haunted. We found that some inn on south Battery Street was the site of a suicide many years ago, so naturally we had to walk to it. There were still a few people stumbling back to their cars from the bars and restaurants, so we were not totally alone, but it was still a bit strange to be out there in the middle of the night. We got to the inn, and it did not seem particularly creepy, so we decided to go back to Meeting Street and walk around the block. Aside from a cat following us around, I didn't find that walk particularly ghostly either. However, shortly after we made a right on Atlantic, I began to hear footsteps behind me. I walk slow, and my tall, lanky cousin walks fast. When we walk together we always end up with some distance between us unless I jog or he purposely slows down. He was a good house or two ahead of me at this point, so I stopped, and the footsteps stopped. I turned around and saw no one, so I sped up. I was not about to be mugged or raped right in the middle of the Greatest City in the World
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The park and battery are not so creepy in the daytime. |
We turned down Church Street, and I was not particularly creeped out by it, but my cousin claims he was. He'd read some kind of ghost story about that area, but we couldn't find the exact spot that was allegedly haunted. By the time we got back to the battery area, we were both tired, a bit spooked, and ready to leave. When we got home, I decided to take a nice warm bath, and when I got out, I found my cousin sitting on his bed reading some book about Charleston ghost stories. He says, "You know that area where Meeting meets Atlantic? Some people supposedly died there..." and he proceeds to tell me some ghost story about the exact area where I heard the footsteps. Nifty.
No Fort Sumter for You Tuesday was our last day in the Greatest City in the World. We checked out of the hotel and took one last drive through downtown. We stopped at a local produce place to buy some goodies for our grandfather, and then we headed to West Ashley to our favorite little bakery. If you ever go to Charleston, look up Amelia Claire's. Her key lime cupcakes are to die for. Her everything is to die for!
We had a few hours left before we'd planned to head back to Atlanta, and I really wanted to go to Fort Sumter. Here's the thing: I've been to Charleston a million times now, and I have never been to Fort Sumter. Seriously. I mean, I love me some Civil War history, and the fact that I've never been is something that bothers me to no end. However, my gay cousin was not feeling it, and we knew it'd be pretty time-consuming (he had to be up early the next day for work), so we opted to go to Charlestown Landing instead.
Dammit, Fort Sumter. You and I will cross paths one day, and it will be magical, I'm sure.
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No alligators, but these otters were adorbs! |
When we got to Charlestown Landing, it was a bit later than I expected, but I really wanted to see the little zoo there, and my cousin only wanted to see the old plantation home, so we agreed to only walk to those things and see the rest of it another time. We had just stepped foot outside after buying our tickets, and I began to feel terribly nauseous. I sat down on a bench, hoping it was something fleeting, but it only seemed to get worse. I hauled ass back to the building where you buy tickets, and got a Coke and just sat for a while near the bathroom. I have no idea what was wrong with me - maybe all the fast food we consumed during those days was catching up with me - but it got later and later, and I never really felt all that much better, so we agreed to do a quick tour of the little zoo and get out of there.
I felt bad, because I really wanted to see it all, but we agreed to go back next time. Honestly, the zoo wasn't
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Can you spot the animal that was not part of the exhibit? |
even that thrilling. Some of the animals seemed miserable, and I was mostly hoping to see alligators, which there weren't any.. I did, however, get chased down by a raccoon who I thought was part of an exhibit. Turns out, he was just visiting. He climbed out of the fence and followed me for a bit, and I just knew I was going to get rabies and die right there.
Poor Armadillo We stopped by Chick-fil-A on the way out of town and found out the hard way that leaving town at 6 p.m. was a bad idea. We didn't get home until well after midnight, and I managed to kill a poor little armadillo on I-20. I go to great lengths to avoid hitting animals on roads, but there were huge trucks on either side of me, and I'm going 80 mph, so it was either us or him. Sorry little guy. Or girl.
Ed Helms You may be wondering how Ed Helms fits into all of this, and well, he doesn't. Not really. I just thought I'd point out that he did some bluegrassy type stuff in L.A. last weekend. I happened to catch it on Twitter, but by the time I did, tickets were already sold out, and I already had plans anyway.
This exact same thing kind of happened last year around my birthday, too. I would love to see him perform someday, but in the meantime, I'll simply have to bask in my Charleston afterglow.
Seriously, I don't call it the Greatest City in the World for nothing. I cannot express enough how much I love
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No pics of Ed Helms, but how can you not love this place? |
the place. I love that there is always something going on. I love the history. I love the beauty. I love the diversity of the people. I love that it's like a Jimmy Buffett song meets all that is wonderful about the South or as my gay cousin calls it, "the place where magnolia tress and palm tress coexist." I hate being away from things - it's lonely and boring - but in Charleston, no matter where you are, you feel like you're right in the center of everything. Does that make sense?
But where was I?
Speaking of Helms, I just happened to run across this last night:
apparently, he has created and stars in a show that Yahoo is releasing called Tiny Commando. I don't fully understand the whole Yahoo thing, but I might if I read the article again when I'm not completed exhausted. Sounds kind of cool, though, and I can't wait to see what the future holds for him now that
The Office is over. Check it out, homies.
And thanks for hanging in there while I played diary and recounted my mini-vacay.