postal office montgomery alabama

I Got Yelled At By Alabamians For Not Knowing Who Nick Saban Was

Alabama

Wednesday, it’s the day. I woke up at 6 and worked till 9 so I wouldn’t be guilty. I had been planning this specific trip for years. This museum.
I headed for Montgomery and turned onto to Zelda Lane.
The Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald Museum was on the corner of a real neighborhood. Stuck in the middle of Montgomery with the only sign being near the road on top of the mailbox.IMG_8381

Inside, it was one of those Southern homes were you can still picture tea time on the porch or hot nights in August.

This museum had recently promoted staying overnight as an AirBnB. Personally, I am too superstitious to ever mess with that but it’s a great idea. It spanned about 5 rooms, going into detail over Zelda.

The director of the museum came out to great me. She was this badass with a monotone voice. I had hoped the museum would go over more the relational details of Zelda and Scott ( I mean they were mad crazy).

I spent the rest of the day basically picturing myself in the 50’s and trying to get work done.

*I’m doing 2 days in one because they flow together.

Now tomorrow (Thursday), I was supposed to head out to Detroit. I had a work exchange offer to help out with the website at this new hostel. The day before I was supposed to go, she called truly upset saying they over booked their volunteers and could not host me.

Well, that kind of put a hinderance on what I needed to do.

Frantically, I begin messaging hostels or anywhere trying to find a work/exchange program. I was having no luck and I had 12 hours to go.

After mass messaging, I decided to take a coffee break and went into Montgomery. This was probably one of the best ideas I had and resulted in probably the best night so far of my trip. 

I ended meeting this guy. This wonderfully amazing guy. He is a journalist for the Montgomery paper and was probably the most interesting person I had met. We talked over nerdy stuff, politics, the rising issue with media. He even began to through out bigwig media names he had worked with. And I was impressed the moment he dropped BBC. We ended up talking for hours until he had to go.

Instead of parting:

“Hey so some of my friends and I are having a family potluck. We are cooking all this crazy stuff.”

He could have been an axe murderer or a creep but I decided to just go with it.

The meal consisted of me meeting his four other friends. One was in a popular reggae band and gave it up to with his kids. His wife was the freaking director of the museum, and she had this monotone voice that delivered sarcasm perfectly (kind of like April from Parks and Rec). Another was in the socialist party and the last was a folk singer.

That night is what I want in a friend group. They were these crazy intellectual people flouting between political jokes and movie quotes. We debated modern-day imperialism and if the deaths in Serenity were worth it.

Me and Gonzo Journalist ended back at his place and hung out for awhile.

*Cough fast forward cough*

He actually invited me to stay with him while trying to find a place. I actually said yes. That night was amazing between the conversation and meeting his amazing group of friends.

But as fate would have it, I got a call in the morning from a hostel in Maine that I reached out too. They said they needed help and to be there on Friday.

My goal is to say yes to experiences. That’s how I ended up at a random person’s house in Montgomery going over Tolstoy. So, I packed my bags and began a 25 hour drive to Maine.

I did text Gonzo and definitely going to keep in touch, because who knows.

 

Lafayette Louisiana travel

Day 4: Louisiana Doesn’t Work On A Sunday, But I Do

Louisiana

I honestly did not expect to enjoying doing work as much as I do. My days are mostly working and then a couple hours of exploring. It works out best in my opinion, really hard to get bored or sad that way.

So on Sunday, I decided to have a Louisiana day. Church, brunch, chill (or work at a relaxing pace).

The biggest impact came early in the morning, something told me to go to church. Mind you, I have not been other than Christmas since the day I turned 18. I was raised in a very Catholic household including Catholic school, Sunday’s spent all day at the church, youth involvement, choir involvement, mentoring, and whatever other minor thing that comes with Catholicism. I had noticed that a key thing to do in Lafayette was to visit St. John’s Catholic Church. So I went.

There will always be a soft spot for cathedrals. Just the architecture and glass windows makes me want mediate over every bad decision of my life. But this was me just experiencing the mass. Before, I was always forced and what the priest seemed irrelevant and stuffy at best.

Actually, the priest started off by talking about the latest scandal in Pennsylvania. The cases of molestation from inside the church. It was one of the most beautiful homilies that I have seen. This young priest started off saying he was re-thinking his job in the church. That this was disgusting and he was angry at the church, at the priests, at the whole situations. It was candid and truthful. Something I had not expected from someone in the Catholic church, call me a cynic.

After that, my day went mostly to working and trying some foods. Prejean’s in Lafayette was not all it’s cracked up to be. But I did spend some time downtown shooting which you can check out here.

So Shark Tank and I had a good 10 hour run. Sat there with it on the background and I was just plugging away at writing. After a few hours, my hostel host came in a hung out with me for awhile. He is the professor at the local college and travels with the AirBnB money. He told me about a bunch of places to stop by and his travels around the world. He reminded me of a Cajun Mark Walhberg to be honest. One of the places he recommended was the Mountain Light Sanctuary, which I totally booked right then. It is in the forests of North Carolina and I am staying in a bungalow with a babbling creek and forest right beside me. Can you tell I am excited. But if you are interested in some good ideas for hostels and stuff check out his travel blog.

I had my first experience with my weird, deathly-fearful of the night. Growing up, my family thought the best way to teach morality lessons (besides the church) was to basically tell horror stories to a child. Those stories have kept me in check more than once but they also attributed to my unhealthy fear of the night.

Last night, alone in the hostel, I freaked myself out. I did not even have one of those hair-raising or intuitive moments, nope. It was just being alone in an unknown household. Hopefully along this trip I can get rid of that debilitating fear but keep the healthy respect of any supernatural side.

Let’s see how New Orleans goes….

Day 3: Lafayette, Isn’t That The Guy From True Blood

Louisiana

I started off in Gibsland, Louisiana. Let me tell you, I was ready to leave. The quiet was great but the mixture of moisture, slight twinge of racism made me ready to leave.

The next city I went too, was a memory lane trip. Monroe, Louisiana. It is the most known for Duck Dynasty. Need more than that name and the fact it’s in Louisiana, check out this video of the semi-illiterate uncle. 

I spent my 1st-5th grade here, but only 4 years. I was able to skip 4th grade (a small fun fact that most people don’t know about me).  The only place I could still navigate to was the Catholic private school I went to.  Leftover Catholic guilt, a special place in my heart; who knows. Our Lady of Fatima, is a tiny school that still looks like it could be in a Tarentino movie. I tried to walk into the church to offer some sort of balance for all the Eucharistic wafers I used to eat there while alter serving, but the doors were locked. All I was able to see was the statues that I took my First Communion pictures on. Maybe I will upload them later on because this girl was an adorable Mexican child.

I decided after, that it was time to leave Monroe. There really was nothing left for and I don’t really give a “duck” about it..

Moving on from my weird childhood experiences, I drove to Lafayette. Let me tell you, this is a beautiful drive with some sad sights. A lot of ghost towns and going through Alexandria (my surname) was what death looks like for a city. Is this why I am an emo girl?

Arriving to the great Lafayette, movies are filmed here, zydeco was born here. But I need to start lowering my expectations with cities I suppose. It’s hot and humid. I tried to go through downtown and take pictures and although beautifully laid out, it was not the metro hotspot I was expecting.

It did provide a good time to catch up on work but as for a culturally hub, it was a let down.

Something that was not a letdown, the hostel I stayed at (www.cajunhostel.com). My first experience with a hostel and I felt wary. I’ve seen the movie “Hostel” and read about Natalee Holloway. But this experience was clean, it smelled like a bakery and I ended up having the room to myself. There was another couple staying in the room besides me and other than hearing them either fighting or having intense sex (or both), they were private and British. The only details I really got out of them.

It was a quiet day with minimal interactions. I love those days, call me an introvert.