Touch You Last

It’s day three of Home Alone: The Dave McLean Edition, and all’s going reasonably well. I haven’t bought a single meal so far, the cats’ litter boxes haven’t become ziggurats of poop, and the house doesn’t yet reek of stale sweat and/or Wild Turkey. Yet. I have to admit it’s incredibly weird not having Sarah around. It’s hard to describe, but everything feels ever so slightly off . I’ll be watching TV and I’ll suddenly think, “Holy crap! I forgot to…” but then I realize there’s nothing I’ve forgotten. Or this morning, stepping out of the shower, I had this strange sensation it wasn’t Friday at all, that I’d somehow missed Friday . Again—weird half-second of alarm, then I was fine. I’m not nuts, I’m not obsessing about this constantly; I just have these strange occasional flashes. We’ve been apart before, obviously, and longer than the two-and-a-half days that have passed so far, but usually I’m terribly busy when this happens. I’ve been in Toronto for work, but my days and ni...

Sarah’s away for the next two weeks. I’ve been on my own for about five hours now, and so far the house hasn’t caught fire, and I’m not drunk beyond reason. I sense I’ve beaten most people’s expectations already. She’s off to Vancouver for a few days to hang with Beth , and from there she’s meeting up with her parents and jumping on a cruise ship due for Alaska. I know, I know: nice life. Hey man, I’d be there too if I wasn’t out of vacation days (full disclosure: I think I have one spare day between now and October 1). So, it’s a sausage-fest at my house, what between me and the cats. I’m not sure what the longest time is I’ve been in this house without Sarah. I suspect it’s no more than three of four days. (And this is exactly the kind of thing I’d get her to confirm for me if she was hear right now.) It’s sort of nice to have the place to myself, and I don’t think I’m a dick for saying that. I think probably ninety percent of people enjoy hanging all by their lonesome once ...

Back from our Tuesday game. Turns out "hit 'em where they ain't" is not a soccer phrase. Furthermore, they definitely does not refer to the people on your own team .

Sunday was our last full day in the city. After breakfast, we all met up at the Georgia Aquarium which is right next door to World of Coke… and also happens to be the world’s largest aquarium (or so the website says, and this may be a good tim e to mention that for every website I’ve checked out related to these posts, there always seems to be a claim that that particular attraction is the biggest of its kind. The biggest cast iron statue!! The spoutiest water spout!!! Let’s just say I’m having my doubts at this point.) That said, the Georgia Aquarium is very cool. For a lot of reasons. 1. They have a petting zoo of sorts. There are areas where you can pet (with two fingers only!) rays, small sharks, starfish, and (no way in hell am I touching that) shrimp. 2. There’s a huge sea lion tank, and the sea lions are t otally OCD. In one corner, there’s a ledge and a door where the trainers come out with food. The sea lions would basically swim around for twenty secon...

For the Saturday morning, it was just the two of us. Red Steph and her posse went shopping first thing, and Jack had gone home the night before. We started out with breakfast at the hotel, and then we wandered briefly through Centennial Olympic Park . The park replaced a fairly depressed part of the city back when it was constructed in the mid-nineties. There are markers engraved with the names of all the medalists that year (yeah Donovan Bailey!) and there’s also a sort-of waterpark—an area where jets of water shoot out of the ground randomly. There were a ton of kids splashing around in there, and with good reason because it was crazy hot out. From here, we walked over to World of Coke . Coca-Cola, as you probably know, is headquartered in Atlanta, and World of Coke is exhibition is part museum, part entertainment complex, part gigantic suggestion to just drink Coke. You’re let into the main complex in batches, and you start in a holding room where one of the employees warms u...

Day two brought us back to Atlanta, but not before a stop at Vulcan Park . Birmingham was (and I suppose, is) an iron and steel town, and to advertise this back in the day the city created a statue of Vulcan (Roman god of the forge) for the St. Louis world’s fair. It is the largest cast iron statue in the world, and allows me to finally tag my third Giant Things entry. We could have paid extra to climb the statue, visit the Vulcan museum, and possibly play in the Vulcan Playland (with a happy fun slide leading to a tank full of steel arrowheads?), but we went the cheap route, walking and gawking for free. Then we drove back, passing Talladega Speedway (which I forgot to mention on the way up). We didn’t visit it—because we have zero interest in all things stock car—but Jack regaled us with stories of going there in his twenties. It was a booze-soaked time and totally violent. He actually watched a fight escalate to the point where some guy shot another guy in the head (more of a gr...

On Wednesday night of last week, we drove down to Burlington, VT so we could catch the 6:15am flight to Atlanta. Yes, flying direct would have been easier, but by driving to the US first we saved twelve hundred damn dollars , so put that in your pipe and smoke it, Air Canada. Everything was completely on time, and we hooked up with Jack in the Atlanta Airport a few hours later. Jack was one of the folks we met on our Australia/New Zealand cruise , and one of the reasons we’d come to Atlanta in the first place. Great guy; friendly like you’ve never seen, easy going, with a natural curiosity about pretty much everything. We picked up our rental car, and then drove off towards Birmingham. Before arriving though, we made a stop at the Waffle House for breakfast. The Waffle House —if you’ve never been—is a crazily ubiquitous chain in the south. I mean it’s at every single exit off every highway. Sarah’s a little obsessed with the place, FYI. We had a decent breakfast—I tried grits (not bad ...