Walking in Memphis- picture style!- Day 1

So, here's round 2 in my attempts to post about my trip! I'm going to do it in day segments to avoid repeating another tragic post disappearance.

I also know that is about the most horribly uncreative title in the world. But that song really was playing through my head for about a week!

Anyways, forgive me, for this will probably be the most "diary-style" series of entries I've written so far. I figure it's okay since I have all the lovely pictures to accompany it (although, due to my pseudo-anonymity, you don't get to see the actual photos of me in a sombrero or posing beside various Elvis memorabilia, and for that, I apologize!)

Day 1: Four of us head off to Seattle after getting up at 6am. Seattle actually looks like a beautiful city, and I realized how ridiculous it was that I had never visited, despite living only a few hours away.



It takes probably close to an hour to get through security. My lack of coordination becomes humourously evident when I am asked to take off my jacket, boots, and take my laptop out of my bag all at once. Not easy for a girl like me.

We fly to Minneapolis. It looks snowy. I am so desperate for nutrition that I pay $5 for a "fruit salad" that consists of maybe two strawberries and a whole lot of the "filler" fruits, namely honeydew and cantalope.

We then fly to Memphis. We get a ride to Ghetto Inn with a sullen taxi driver with a race car complex. In retrospect, I am sad that I took no pictures of Ghetto Inn. The polyester bedspreads were a rather dramatic colour combination, and the shower fluctuated between scalding hot and barely lukewarm. The front desk staff looks shocked when we asked them if there was an actual restaurant nearby-- Arby's was apparently the closest thing, and I don't consider that in the league of restaurant.

We figure out that there's a trolley system nearby, so we take it downtown (less than 10 minutes away). We go into the only restaurant we can find open, which is actually a decent bar with grafitti all over the walls and toothpicks in the ceiling. I write "Psychology represents!" or something creative like that on the wall. Upon finding out that the server has the same birthday as him, Mr. Self-Disclosure takes it upon him to tell the server how he also knows a lot of people with June 3rd birthdays... and then proceeds to tell him all about who each person is, while the rest of us quietly smirk and enjoy our burgers. When we return to Ghetto Inn, my roommate and good friend, N., and I apparently regress into 14 year old girls and gossip until 2am.