Yankee Stadium

On a foul weather day, I saw the Yankees play. Don't I look like I've been a fan all my life? I ate hot dogs, Crackerjacks (who you callin' Cracker, Cracker?), drank Miller Lite (that's light on cals NOT percentage points!) and banged on some Irish guys lucky saucepan - all in the name of baseball. And the best part? It was free - come on Interbrand, more perks please.
Local fans who helped bust up the almost-fight between a guy who wouldn't take his hat off during the singing of the Star Spangled Banner and the rest of Yankee Stadium. Boo! Non-patriot, Boo!

Where the elite eat in their bare feet

Finally, I was able to satisfy my primal urge to go on a road trip. Destination: Savannah. Home of great lynching trees, the only historical place to still call it the 'war of Northern aggression', and the original concept of 'porch'. Also home to one of the best design schools in the States, unfortunately named SCAG. Julian and I even took Raylene on the occasional dirt road as we visited plantation houses, crab shacks and generally felt the sea wind in our hair.

The 4 day odyssey was a convenient mix of high and lowbrow shenanigans. And everyone is so polite - in fact, hotels even leave a serve yourself liquor cabinet for guests - dangerous! Julian liked that. And did I mention the Crab Shack? I have too many pics of Julian posing with fake sea critters to include here, but you get the idea.

The Gastonian chandelier in our room - I've never slept with a chandelier before.

'Nuff said?

Oh those sweet sweet Georgia peaches.

Spanish mossomania.