The 3,000 miles: Day 4

Leaving New Orleans was hard. Not only was the city amazing, but we were also hungover and 6 a.m. is super early.

Ali and I got up and shambled about, packing like a zombie would. What I mean by that is that we'd mumble and creak our bones while pushing a shirt into a bag.

Joe, who was shit-faced last night, was the hardest to get up. He slept on the far left of his bed, and as Ali and I shook him, he'd roll away. He eventually rolled himself into a blanket burrito on the far right side.

But at 7 a.m. we were able to get on the road and headed to San Antonio. The first hour or so was traveling over waterways and while we didn't really get to see the bayou, it was great to see some of the famous swamp.

Once we were in Texas, it was just one long strip of highway. Five hundred and eighty-five miles on I-10. Somewhere among those miles, the radio was only able to pick up one station: bluesy country. 

I was driving (made it through Huston in one piece!) at this point and it began clear to me that this section of the trip was going to be the worst part. Flanked by wide open plains, we had left the area of sights behind us. It was rough.

But we made it to the city. I gave Joe and Ali the Vincent Warning before exiting the highway. 

When we reached the house, we had 4th of July BBQ, did laundry and discovered that Vincent had turned into a crazy dog man. hahhaha, he has four dogs!

Barbara was civil, which was expected. While Ali and Joe slept, I visited with my grandma. She told me stories from when she and my grandfather lived in Cali. and I told her about how Mass people. 

(Grandma and I)

But eventually, sleep's siren was to hard to ignore and I crashed.

Compared to the other days, this one was more relaxed and less eventful but nothing could replace seeing my grandma for the first time since my grandfather's funeral four years ago. 

The 3,000 Miles: Day 3

Day three was a first for me: the man I was sharing a bed with woke up screaming. 

Since each hotel is going to have two beds, and there are three of us and three hotels, we decided that each hotel someone would sleep alone. The other two would share.

Ali was the first to claim a bed, so Joe and I shared the other (Joe claimed the single for New Orleans and I get the single for Arizona!). 

During the middle of the night, Joe was whimpering and mumbling in his sleep, so I turned over to see if he was okay. Apparently, he was having a nightmare that the front desk clerk was murdering us and my movement surprised a shriek out of him.

I, still being sleepy, said eff this and went back to sleep. Five hours later, we hit the road. If Day 2's keyword was rain, then Day 3's driving could easily be called sunny.

The closer we got to New Orleans, the clearer the skies. The road also became a straight line contrasted to the curvy mountain roads of the Mid-Atlantic.

On the way we saw mist covered mountains, large lakes and rolling oceans. Here is my view from the back seat:

hahaha! With Joe doing 90% of the driving and Ali acting as Navigator, I've been in the backseat nook, which I like, but it prevents me from taking decent photos of some of the more amazing road sights. 

I did get to see them, just didn't get a photo.

The hotel in New Orleans was really nice. Gold coated faucet handles, a little courtyard with a fountain for three rooms to share, nice flower wallpaper that matched heavy silver curtains. The lobby had a chandelier.

Video to come.

But New Orleans! The nightlife is like nothing else. Roads were closed off to cars so that people can walk freely, you can have alcohol out in the open (as long as it's in a nonbreakable container), loud music and the heavy scent of food battle for attention. It's definitely something to experience.

We started our night with a stop in a bar, of course. I ordered a Long Island Iced Tea, but it was subpar. But since we weren't staying at the bar, I was able to carry it and drink slowly to the next place, a little southern pub. The food was warm (as in spicy), but it was delicious and worked with my glass of red wine.

At this point, I'm drunk. I'm drunk until the next morning.

After the pub, we headed to another bar (catch the pattern here?), where Ali and Joe got a Hand Grenade, "New Orleans' Most Powerful Drink." Loads of sugar, and alcohol for only $8 with refills at any of the Tropical Isle's spots. Some bars have little to-go sections just for this drink.

(The Hand Grenade)

After downing one, both Ali and Joe we're drunk (or close to it). We hit another bar, this one had a live band (Lov Sexy), that mostly covered songs from the 70's. Remember that I was drunk, so of course I danced.

When I was dirty dancing with an older woman (mid-forties), she took a dollar out and trailed it down my chest before shoving it into the waistband of my pants. At the time, I laughed it off and moved back to my friends.

Now I'm thinking, that I came pretty close to being something like a stripper. Another job I can check off my to do list.

I did use that woman's dollar to buy a tube shot, that didn't taste like alcohol so I'm sure it wasn't too bad.

We stayed in that bar for at least an hour drinking and dirty dancing. Joe "cut a rug" extremely well (he's got rhythm), and the bar started chanting, "Go white boy! Go white boy!"

It was hilarious. Once we started getting tired, we headed to another bar - with Joe saying he wanted to go to a strip club. Of course, once Ali and I starting walking into a strip club, Joe kept walking down the street.

We ended up in another bar with live music, but this time it was trailer park dudes singing 90's rock songs. I didn't like this bar as much, so I left and explored the area a little. Ten minutes later, I met up with Ali and Joe and we decided to split. 

Joe wanted to stay on the street, Ali wanted to go back to the hotel for a bit and I wanted to see the non-party side of New Orleans. I dropped Ali off before waking to a nearby park with light statues. 

However, I was still drunk and I didn't want to get lost so I turned back shortly. Ali called on my way back, wanting a hot dog, so I nabbed one for her and one for me.

Joe was back and clearly smashed when I returned. He tried to sit on the corner of the bed, only to fall to the floor. When we laughed, he decided to show us up by doing a rolling-flip thing that would have been impressive if only he didn't crumble forward two seconds after landing.

Ali and I laughed again (how could we not?). Joe stood up and declared that he was showering. I lied down to sleep, listening to the rushing water. The last thing I remember thinking was, I'll give Joe thirty minutes before I check on him fearing he might drown.

I fell asleep before the water stopped. (Spoiler alert: Joe did not drown. He's just slightly hungover.)

The 3,000 Miles: Day 2

The plan was to wake at 7 a.m. and leave Maryland at 8, 9 at the latest. But sleep's comforting hold kept us in bed until 9:15 a.m. 

We knew we were going to be a little late for Tennessee so we packed leisurely, determined to reorganize the back. My friend and her brood had to leave for work, so I left the present I brought for her on a dinning room chair and we locked the door. Maryland was beautiful and it was fantastic to see my friend. 

The traffic was much better than leaving New England, but the weather was depressing. It rained off and on, with a large portion of the 220 miles through Virginia and Tennessee were soaking.

  

(Some clouds forewarning intense rain)

It got so bad at one point that Joe, who did most of the driving, had to slow down to 15 mph and lean forward just to see the car in front of us. It was scary in the sense that an accident was a very real possibility.

I slept on and off for the ride to Knotsville, Tennessee. But I do remember seeing a lot of cows (Holy cows!) and open land. Some of the water towers were painted to reflect the town/county - apples, rainbows, music notes to name a few. And mountains flanking us on all sides.

Somewhere in those 220 miles it was decided that 90's music would be the road trip's soundtrack with Tracy Chapman's classics "Fast Car" and "Give Me A Reason" as the theme.

When we reached the hotel, it was decided that we wanted a warm meal curtsey of Quiznos. I got a small tuna and a small chicken bacon ranch flatbread for  $6. It was tasty and hit the spot.

After a little debating, we decided to forgo the pool in favor of showering and sleeping. The warm water was perfect to wash away two days of driving and much needed to relax everyone. 

Settling into bed, we watched "Teen Titans Go!" and "Jonny Test," shows promising poorly animated dreams. Cuddled in bed, I fell asleep by 9:45.

The 3000 Miles: Day 1

I write this as Joe speeds down the highway and Ali whole-heartedly sings with her "Songs of the 90's" playlist.

We are on a highway in Virgina for another 200 miles before the GPS will grant us the next direction. But this post is about yesterday's grand adventures, not today's sleepy ride.

Monday at 5 a.m. I hurried downstairs to the car. Ali is coming sometime between 7 and 8 and my mother, aunt, sister and cousin wanted to have one last breakfast at The Red Rooster, our favorite in town diner.

We drive the two streets to the Rooster to find that they're closed for holiday. Without stopping my mother drives is to Blue Moon, the breakfast joint downtown. They under renovations. We drive up the street to Paramount; the overcrowded Paramount.

We stop and try to think of other diners in our small city. The fifty's themed place jumps to mind and we coast towards it. The place doesn't open until 8. 

In a last ditch effort, we head to Gabby's across town; it's already 5:45 - we don't have much time. Gabby's is also closed for the holiday. It's decided that Dunkins will be my last breakfast in MA.

My mom turns the car around only to have my aunt see a sign proclaiming "2 eggs and toast for $3," on a building no one has had eaten in before.

We hesitantly enter and take seats near the door. The waitress greeted us with a smile and was very tentative to our needs. My omelet was delicious and I could tell the rest of the table found the same to be true for their meals.

We left with my mother and cousin discussing returning in a few days. At home, I said my final goodbye to my kitties and brought my stuff down to the curb to wait for Ali.

When Ali arrived, we loaded her tiny Hyundai Sonata to the brim with luggage and food; the only spot in the back a little nook. But we headed to Maryland ready for a road trip.

Everything was smooth as Ali drove out of town. Our first highway was Route 2 West and before thinking, I asked, "Why are taking West?" hahaha!

It wasn't until Conn. that we hit weather issues. There was a tornado and flash flood warning for our route. New York was easier, surprisingly smooth traffic but the New Jersay turn pike had been a huge delay. There was an overturned car blocking two (out of three) lanes. 

At this time, Joe was driving and later commented that it took three hours to drive six miles. 

We reached Maryland at 8:15 p.m. when our original arrival time was 4:00 p.m. But in Maryland we were able to stay with a friend I hadn't seen for two years. She had a bird's best, with baby chicks, right outside her front door. Her fiancée joined us for a late dinner of spicy chicken and salad. Quickly followed by shots of tequila.

Four shots in and I was drunk! The little party (comprised of myself, Ali, Joe, my friend, her fiancée, his sister and one of their friends) was loud with laughter and bonding. My friend and I sat on the couch and watched one episode of The Office before I passed out.

My friend and I

The chicks. They were adorably ugly.

Home

My brother is home for the weekend and it couldn't be a better time.
After hearing and seeing the tragedy that happened at the Boston Marathon, it's nice to have all of my family together.

-Joe

AWP ~ Day 3

Click here for Day 1 and Day 2.

The final day of the conference was on a Saturday and since we had been taking the train in, we had to miss the first panel because the times were different. Thankfully, it had stop snowing sometime during the night, so the sidewalks were mostly clean.The train ride was uneventful, considering Thursday and Friday's journey into the city.

The first panel we went to was "If These Walls Could Talk...Oh Wait, They Do!" and it was all about how setting can be a character in a story. Setting is one of those elements in a story where it's only given credit and thought about when it becomes crucial to the story. But I think setting can add a layer that strengthens the reader's emotional attachment to the characters and it shouldn't be overlooked. That being said, this panel felt like a into lesson to setting and as a writer, I'm passed into levels.

SAM and I decided to leave this panel and explore the sales room again. But this time we were on a mission to get business cards for promising looking lit journals and small presses. There is a system to working show rooms. You have to talk to the booth workers, smile constantly, and make yourself stand out in a crowd of thousands. More often than not, you have to loop around the showroom multiple times. That's not necessarily a bad thing; the second or third time around you can find something easily overlooked. Case in point, I got a free hair cut!

hahahaha. Yes, I let a stranger, whose career path is literature based, cut my hair. But that's one of the fun things about cons, doing something kinda crazy. Conventions should be fun and memorable while being educational.

After the hair cut we went to the Video Games, Fan Fiction & Comics: Alternative Genres as Legitimate Literature panel. The three panelist had done exceptional research on their topic and gave an in-depth look at how these types of media is often overlooked by lit snobs. All three have distinct, rich histories and it was really refreshing to see these genres being taken seriously as a form of literature. The only thing I was kind of disappointed with, was that it seemed like most of the audience members were people who already accept video games, comics and fanfic as a serious form.

The last panel we went to was Hating Your Writing: A Love Story. And this one was actually really helpful because I think it's a writer default to hate their writing or to second guess if something is ready to be called finished. Some helpful tips were: remember that one point it's less editing and more just changing, criticize constructively, and it's okay to write shit - sometimes you just gotta write.

I loved going to AWP and I hope to attend it again next time it's in Boston.


Love Always,
Joe

AWP 2013 ~ Day 2

Click here for Day 1.

Day 2

The snow was knee high as I chugged my way to the train stop. The night before, Sara and I had decided to catch the 8:05 train so we could attended the 9 o'clock panel. That was probably a mistake haha, but since the storm hadn't stopped once all night, the sidewalks were full and it was a legit journey to make it to the stop. I had to run to catch the train.

Because of the storm, there were less people on the train so it was easier to find seats together. On the way into Boston, we saw ice formed over some patches of swamp water. I'd never seen anything like that before, so it was kind cool to experience something new like that. The image of a ice chunks floating on bog water was creepy, cool and not something I want to forget. It was poetic. hahaha.

Any who, we got to the center at 9:15 so we were a little for the panel, "The Novel as Weapon: PEN Members on Book Banning & Censorship." Going in, I thought the panel would be about the dubious process of banning a book, but it was more "as a writer, you should do this..." kind of panel. I did get two pages of notes out of it though. The most interesting bits were beware of leaving out different opinions. Just because you support an issue - like no use of recreational drugs - doesn't mean you can't print something that's pro safe drug use. It's about finding a balance and letting the side be heard.

I did ask if the panels, a collection of editors and literary journal managers, if they had ever encountered something that they shouldn't be published and one of the editors said that once she read perfectly written but with questionable content; something that could have been rejected just to make her feel better. She then said she made sure to print it because it made her feel uncomfortable.

Next was poetry slam "Page Meets Stage." Poetry often gets treated like the red-headed stepchild of the literacy world, but these poets were amazing. Inspirational, funny, dirty, and all around amazing. Two stood on stage and recited poems to the audience, but almost as if they were talking to each other. It was breathe-taking and they stay in the room afterwards, taking photos and talking with us. I got a photo with Taylor Mali, Cristin O'Keefe Aptowicz and talked with Aimee Nezhukumatathil. Martin Espada and Reginald Gibson were there as well, but I was not able to meet them.

Next was a panel about how to use Tumblr professionally. It gave some tips, but it was more useful in finding some single-serving tumblrs. After that panel was dinner where Sara and I shared a meal. A plate of sushi and a chicken teriyaki dinner.

Then it was time for speakers Alison Bechdel & Jeanette Winterson. Bechdel, whose most famous for her Bechdel test, was unable to make it due to the snow fall so it was just Winterson reading and discussing her memoir "Why be happy when you can be normal." She was really funny, a beautiful speaker and unfolded her story like it was a picnic blanket for all of us to share.

Some of the quotes I really liked: "When I break my leg, I go to the doctor. When I break my heart, I go to a poet; We live out some of our parent's failed lives; I told myself as the hero, like any shipwreck survivor; unhappy families are conspiracies of silences; For her, life was a pre-death experience; she was a violent philosopher; to be moved is to be fundamentally placed somewhere else; the newness of art throws us into the fire of discovery."

We were both tired so we hoofed it back to North Station. Sara had to stop and return her red box so we had to wait 5 minutes for her to find it. She eventually did and we walked the 35 steps to the train stop, only to see the train pulling away. Hilarious.

I trained home, then walked back to my apartment for sleep. Day was less note-taking and more just experiencing the conference for all its glory.

Love Always,
Joe