Part 2: What Happened When We Picked Up Gibbs

Driving back to Charleston from Kenly, NC, with our 39 pound, 11 year old corgi mix at my feet in the passenger seat, to keep him away from the big, yellow lab, was a small feat in itself. I wasn't ready to take the risk to see how they would get along just yet, especially in the car. So, we drove the remaining 4 hours back to Charleston that way, with Marley eventually finding a comfortable way to lay under my feet, and the big dog mostly sleeping in the backseat, with the occasional look over the flat screen TV box we were toting back as part of our Christmas gifts.

When we got home, we coaxed who we were now starting to call 'Gibbs', up the stairs. He lifted his leg only once, because mostly we were watching him like hawks, to see what he would do. He settled down for a bit, and then we decided to try to give him a bath. Gibbs would not have it, and there was no way we could get a dog that big into the tub, so we gave up. We then tried to get him to go back DOWN the stairs, because he seemed like he needed to go for a walk. He was not having it whatsoever. He ran away, he'd lay down on all fours, and simply avoid us to get out of the way. Not even food worked to coax him down. After 10 or so minutes of trying, I told my husband he needed to carry him down the stairs. Carrying down what we learned was 107 pounds of yellow lab was quite the challenge, but he managed to pull it off.

The next day I called the local Kenly, NC, police station and SPCA. Gibbs mostly slept except when we took him to the vet to see if he was micro-chipped. He wasn't. We made the decision that if no one called us to claim him, we needed to take him to get a full examination on Wednesday, since we were unsure if he was sick or had problems, and we also needed to get back on the road to go down to Hilton Head to spend time with my family, so both dogs needed to be boarded for two days.

My cell phone rang on Wednesday morning just before 9am, and I knew from the area code that most likely it was the owners of Gibbs. I picked up and spoke to a man with a heavy southern accent, who said that he believed we had his dog, that the dog lives outside, but has a nice doghouse, and got off his lead from time to time.

His wife looked at my Facebook photos, and verified he was their dog 'Hoss'. I told them that we would be happy to meet them in Florence, South Carolina, which was halfway back to Kenly if they wanted us to. But the gentle man I spoke to asked me if I wanted Gibbs, and said they had 'lots of dogs', and that if we would give him a good home we could keep him. In fact, he said, he was looking for a home for Gibbs about six months ago and no one wanted him. I absolutely wanted him. In the course of a few days I'd already grown very attached to this big lug of a dog, and I had wanted to get another dog anyway, for Marley to have a buddy.

So we took both of the dogs straight to the vet. Gibbs to be checked out and both dogs to be boarded for two nights until we returned from Hilton Head.

According to the vet, they don't believe Gibbs had ever had a bath before. He was covered in fleas and when the vet bathed him blood and a ton of flea dirt washed away. He had also never likely been boarded, so they had to give him a mild sedative to calm him down. We returned today to pick both of the boys up from the vet, and Gibbs' fur was nice and clean, and he no longer smelled. $400 later he's good as new (he had parasites I won't mention here that they had to treat him for). Let's just hope that bill is only once a year.

All in all, I believe we made the right decision, and I am really glad we are keeping him. Although if you had told me a week ago we would soon have a 107 pound dog that we would pick up off the side of the road, I'm sure I would have just said 'yeah right'.

Now to make my list of New Year's resolutions...

When it's 'Time' to do the Right Thing: Part 1

Again I have slacked off, but I can't force myself to write if I have nothing to say. But now I do.

What an interesting week it's been. We went up to northern Virginia for Christmas. The trip is always really long and painful, with my husband flipping the radio stations every few seconds in search of something better. That...and listening to the same episode of Prairie Home Companion twice for 8+ hours is like water torture.

Before we were even 30 minutes out of Charleston, I was looking down at my iphone, because I am addicted to technology, and the car swerved violently, and I looked up startled. I saw a King Charles Spaniel crossing interstate 26. And I have to say I was a little freaked out. Thankfully we watched the dog get to the side of the highway without incident...at least until we were out of sight...

Four hours later, a little more than halfway through the trip, we were cruising along on I-95, when again the car swerved a bit, not quite as much as the time before, and this time, I saw a GERMAN SHEPARD PUPPY in the middle of I-95 as we zipped by at 85 miles per hour. The puppy was probably a little over a year old, and he stood up and sat back down, unsure of what to do as the cars sped past. And what flashed through my mind was that we needed to do something...call the police to come get him...something. And my husband said the police wouldn't do anything. I'm not sure if they would have or not. It was a busy travel day and I'm sure they had their hands full and wouldn't want to catch a dog in the median of 95 with cars speeding past on either side, as the dog would most likely cause a much more major accident, risking people's lives, and not just his own. So we continued on. And the thought of that dog stuck in the middle of I-95 haunted me. I didn't tell anyone because I didn't want to field the question of 'why didn't you do something?' But what was I to do? I told my husband if we saw ONE MORE DOG that needed help we weren't going to drive by again.

The holidays with my husband's family was really nice, as was seeing all of the amazing friends we could fit into the short period of time we were there. We were supposed to get back on the road the day after Christmas, but instead I woke up at 5:30am with the stomach flu, and there was no way I could sit in the car for over 8 hours in the midst of a snow storm with the stomach flu. So we stayed. And I slept during the waves of time my stomach settled, pretty miserable the entire day.

We got back on the road on December 27th, a day late, but the snow was gone, as was the horrible traffic, which made the trip back to South Carolina much easier. And my husband got me 'Water for Elephants' on CD, a book I had read and loved, loved, loved, to listen to on the way back. The time flew by in the car not flipping through the stations.

We didn't stop until we saw a sign for Subway, which happened to be in Kenly, North Carolina.  Oh, but right before we stopped I saw the dead German Sheppard puppy on the left side of 95 at the edge of the median, his eyes closed like he was taking a long nap. I said nothing and my stomach churned with the large amount of guilt I felt for not doing anything the week before.

We went inside Subway and picked up our lunch, and as we were in Subway, people started saying 'whose dog is that?' We went to the window to look out and saw a yellow lab walking around the parking lot. Someone in the shop said 'I saw that dog walking on a leash about an hour ago. I guess the owner left?' We opened the door to get in our car just as the big dog laid down in front of a car that was pulling out of the parking lot.

He just laid there as the car started and then stopped sharply, almost running him over.

I ran over to him with a few other people to try to get him out of the road. He had a collar with no tag, no phone number, and I stood there hemming and hawing a bit over what to do. I told my husband we couldn't leave him there. No one else seemed to be willing to help. So I called the SPCA. They were closed. The only other option was to load him in our packed car and see if someone at the police station would help. They were also closed.

So we decided that we would take him back to Charleston and decide what was best, perhaps taking him to the SPCA there but my own mind was convincing me otherwise as I thought about the consequences if he didn't get picked up by his owners.

- To be continued in Part 2 -

Gifts From the Heart

While my husband is upstairs being sick (this is the first time he's had a fever in a LONG time), I thought this would be a good time to reflect as we coast into Christmas.

Ever since we moved away from DC, my whole outlook on the holiday season has changed.

Last year in North Carolina, well, we did go back up to DC for almost 3 weeks, but I don't remember stepping foot in a mall to do any Christmas shopping.

And this year has been no different. Actually the only difference between this year and last is that last year we could be a 'little' more generous with gifts, and this year (sorry gift exchanging friends), we really aren't able to. This year, gifts are coming from 'the heart' and not from 'the mall'. But the thing is, as I look at our Christmas tree and the emptiness underneath, I'm not really sad about it. We pretty much have everything we need.

I mean, we have a nice small house which I can proudly say I decorated. We have paintings from Argentina on our walls, hand-painted ornaments that I have received from one of my clients every holiday season, a photo book I made for Jon after the honeymoon we took almost two years after our wedding, and my favorite, a mosaic mirror that I received from one of my best friends, Theresa, who was so thoughtful, that she took a piece of wood from my father's house before it was burned down (yes, on purpose), as she knew she would make me something with it one day. And that something is now a mosaic mirror that is hung neatly next to the front door of our house. And it is really, very special to me.



I think about these wonderful things that have been given to me with love by my amazing friends, gifts not from the mall, but that were from the heart, and I'm not so sad about our empty little tree. Yes, we might not have much this year, but we have our morals and our hope that life will continue to get better. And I have to say, though I know I'm not helping the economy this year with holiday shopping, I have felt the 'spirit of the holiday season' much more than I ever have before and I am so thankful for the beauty of the sparkling Christmas tree, and the peace I feel in my heart.

And, I end this not with a Christmas song, but a song that whenever I hear it, stops me in my tracks, because it's just so lovely. Enjoy.

Just Relax: The New Playlist

I've had a lot of nice comments on my 8tracks mixes recently, which I love, so today I decided to create a new one. You may see a theme here: Happy, Love, Relax are all listed in my mix titles. That's no accident.

I hope you enjoy. No phoning it in on this one. This took me forever.

Holiday Magic: Night of 1000 Candles

This weekend, a few good friends and their parents invited us to go to the Night of 1000 Candles showcase at Brookgreen Gardens in Myrtle Beach, SC, just north of Pawley's Island. An hour and a half drive from Charleston to the Gardens, the drive is totally worth it (and, of course, the friends were, too!).



What a magical experience. This was hands down the most spectacular light display I've ever seen. Sprawling the expanse of what once was a historic plantation (Oaks Plantation) were massive 300+ year old oak trees with hanging spanish moss, reflecting pools, and more picturesque statues than you could count, adorned with an artistic lighting showcase of candles, twinkling lights, and Japanese lanterns. Simply amazing... To stay warm you are able to walk around (outdoors only) with coffee, hot chocolate, wine, or beer that is sold before you enter the gardens. A hot drink is recommended to keep those hands warm.

What's Worthy of Being Thankful For

For the past two years, the holidays have been bittersweet for me.

I am a very mushy person, and where I am happiest is surrounded by family and friends. I get that from my dad...well, in the later part of his life when he realized what was most important was family and friends (and not his business), and though for 2/3rds of his life he forgot that part, I think he realized it when it was most important, which gave his kids fond memories as adults, and I forgave him for the years he forgot.

As long as the drive back to DC was (8 1/2 hours) for Thanksgiving, I didn't mind it. Not because my husband drove most of the way because for some reason my driving scares him (I'm an excellent driver...no I'm NOT rain man), but because I really enjoy listening to cheesy holiday music (and am listening right now) and I love catching up with everyone.

I love drinking wine on Thanksgiving...or champagne (which I also can't get enough of...because EVERY day should be a celebration...and every day is worthy of a little champagne), and yes, I love sitting in the 'sewing circle' catching up with the ladies in my family and having them give me crap about my cooking because I'm a horrible cook. The only thing I've ever been really good at is showing up with the booze. Isn't that really the most important thing? ;) Just kidding, but wine IS healthy for the memory and heart, and everyone needs a little boost, in my opinion. So this Thanksgiving was no different, when my mom, who is an amazing cook and who makes pies that cause people to give up their diets, strongly 'hinted' my deviled eggs looked like turds. That's cool. They were delicious. And guess what...she still ate those turds, and at the end of the day, only THREE were left out of TWENTY-FOUR. Best turds you ever had.

But I digress... Why are the holidays bittersweet? Well...when my dad passed away, now two and half years ago, I realized how amazing my friends and family are. And here's where I get mushy and tell you what I'm thankful for. My friends and family. I absolutely love them. All of them. I have never felt so loved and blessed than when they were there for me throughout the hardest time in my life, losing one of my best friends: my father. And the holidays remind me of how special the people in my life truly are because the holidays are when you stop and actually have time to reflect and think about how your life has changed, for better or worse, and to really count your blessings (hopefully) that you have such amazing people that you love and love you.

I'm thankful that I've been welcomed into my husband's family with open arms. I'm thankful that I have friends and family I can call when I'm sad or doubting, because I've always been the kind of person that needs a little reassurance, in every part of my life.

And I may just drive my husband crazy with the following Christmas song because I blast it whenever it comes on and won't let him change the channel, but to be honest, I don't care, because it reminds me of such a wonderful memory: of sitting in a Catholic Church in Jupiter, Florida, with my dad and stepmother on Christmas Eve in 2004, and the voices of what seemed like angels sang 'O Holy Night', and it was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard, and such a wonderful memory that I can always cherish. I hope everyone else was as lucky as me on Thanksgiving, and was surrounded by people they love. XOXO (that's me getting mushy)

How to "B"

So, I feel like a total slacker.

Almost two weeks have gone by since my last Blog post, and the last one, I have to admit, I 'phoned it in', as my husband would say, which basically means I took the easy way out. Everyone has to do that sometimes, because life is really just too busy to keep up with everything...yes, even without kids.

And I have a lot to say about Thanksgiving. I may get to that this week, but something else has been on my mind the past few days, even before the news that Leslie Nielsen died. A coincidence, I watched the movie Airplane this weekend, which we had on VHS growing up, and I always loved.

What was amazing to me was the Elaine character, which was hilarious and so trusting in her male counterparts, and I found myself wondering this weekend, if women still can exist with what I think is a 'librarian', almost pushover type personality (though honestly, the older I get, the cooler I think it would be to work as a librarian). Most of my girlfriends are very strong women, and I'm not sure today's society would allow women to play the role of giving up complete control of a 'life and death situation' to a man simply because he 'is' without hesitation and without question.

And I saw something on TV last night that talked about the role that women play, and what's really hard is finding a balance between being someone who is too tough, and someone that is too soft, and who could be mistaken as a doormat. For better or worse, I'm somewhere in between (I think). I used to be a lot tougher, but I don't want to be too tough, because no one ever wants to be seen as a B. Being a 'mean woman' is really the worst thing you could possibly be...especially in the South.

What do you think? How is it best to 'be' a woman now, while being strong in yourself and in your home and workplace, and still remain 'soft'? And on that note, time to watch the Victoria's Secret fashion show (and a little Ani video below).

8tracks Playlists to Get You Through the Week

To get myself (and anyone reading this Blog) through the rest of the week as we head towards Thanksgiving and a bunch of food, friends, and awesome times, I have been listening to 8tracks.com, which is a way to share your own playlists online. And, it totally rocks, and I thank my lovely friend Darcy for telling me about it. You can choose the genre of music you would like to listen to, and you don't have to deal with commercials to listen to cool, free music (sorry Pandora, you know I love you, but those are annoying and you know I am poor).

So, my friends, here are some of my favorite playlists, for your listening pleasure:





(Yes, I created the next two - but they ROCK :)





Now to count down the days until Thanksgiving...

Fouche: A Jewel of Charleston

"Who Dares Nothing...Need Hope for Nothing"

This was written on a pen I received from an older, African American lady I met last week while attending a Historic Charleston Preservation Society Meeting.

My husband invited me to go since we are both really interested in the history of the city, and my dream is to be invited to a big Charleston holiday 'to do' where I can get dressed up and pretend that I 'fit in' with that lifestyle...and we can eat lots of finger sandwiches, and drink lots of wine and talk about what an 'eyesore those gigantic cruise ships really are' off of historic Charleston's harbor (which I totally agree with). One can dream, right?

What I expected of the evening was something that was mildly entertaining, and most likely followed up with dinner and drinks downtown (my fav). So why not. What I experienced was quite different. The slide show history and narrative about the city was fascinating. All of the buildings that no longer exist, the buildings that 'could have been' but thankfully Charleston nixed because they would have been simply hideous...I mean, a building like the Atlantis Resort looks great in the Bahamas...but wouldn't fit in at all in Charleston. No use turning a beautiful city into a freak show. And thankfully, someone had the foresight and the will to say 'no' to that big monster, and yes to the restoration of the buildings that hold the history and hearts of many very passionate people.



Following the slide show, wine, passed hors d'oeuvres, and beautiful mini-cupcakes were unearthed for the 'well preserved' society members in attendance. And I don't say 'well preserved' because these people were older (though most were). Those were actually the stickers that were handed out, which absolutely made sense but may have been somewhat offensive to the attendees. It was pointed out to me that I didn't look 'well preserved'...I just looked 'WELL'.

As I tried my best not to look like a wall flower while double fisting glasses of white wine, I decided it would be best for my husband and I to split up to mingle. I've never been very good at mingling with strangers whilst being judged. So off I went toward the cupcakes when I saw a very happy looking woman in her 60's wearing what I would call a gray tuxedo dress. And I use the term tuxedo loosely since what she was really wearing was a fitted gray chenille turtleneck dress (something similar to what my mother may have worn in the 80's), a matching gray hat, and beautiful silver beaded jewelry similar to the imported jewelry from Africa my mom used to sell at craft fairs (no this isn't a promo for my mom - I just really could see my mom in this outfit). This woman's shining aura overtook the room, and I wasn't the only person waiting to talk to her.

And so I sat down next to this woman that proceeded to tell me first that her dress was in fact from 1980, and 'boy was it still looking good!'

'Don't call it a comeback!', I said. I would seriously wear the dress she had on, if I had it in my size.

She replied that she was thankful for spanx, because apparently they don't sell girdles anymore. They allowed her to 'look THAT GOOD in that dress'. I admit, she looked really nice.

Really, I'm not sure the last time I've met someone who was so comfortable in their own skin that the first thing they would say to a stranger would be about spanx and not just say 'what great weather we are having today'. It was truly inspiring and made me think about how much I need to loosen up.

This woman, Fouche, told me she was here to market herself, and proceeded to hand me a pen (with this Blog's opening phrase on it and her contact information, and the text FOUCHE * "A Charleston Charm", Poems, Stories, PowerSpeeches).

Every pen has a different saying on it, she said. And to market herself, she accidently 'drops' her pens on airplanes and in public areas. And people Google her, and call her. It works. This woman is a marketing genius.

Fouche knows everything about Charleston. Many generations of her family have lived in downtown Charleston, and she's an actress and a Docent, retelling Charleston's history at different events to the tourists that come through town. And she spoke a poem in a by-gone African language, and then said it again in English, and it was captivating. And I thought to myself, 'who wouldn't' be calling this woman to hear her stories at schools, local events, and churches. But this economy has left many very talented people hitting the streets for jobs. What amazed me the most was the unwavering smile on her face throughout our conversation, and the clear faith she had that her situation was temporary, because I struggle with simply having faith on a daily basis...I know we all do.

My hope is that this jewel of Charleston will get discovered, so everyone can see her shine. And when I start a conversation off about spanx, it's either time to get worried, or to breathe a sigh of relief.

It's a Doggie Dog World: Week 3 of Being Positive

Anyone who watches the hilarious show Modern Family knows it's a 'Doggie Dog World'...you know, a wonderful world where 'cuuuute lit-tle puppies run around all the time!!'

And my world is just that, with my dog Marley, or should I say the many other names we call him which are...

Schmarles (his sophisticated side)



Batly (need I say more?)



Sergeant Lickley (reporting for doody!)



Schmarlington (yes, that's a chair on the couch. Marley wasn't the 'only' thing scared of the steam cleaner)



Buttertop Loaf (honey wheat?)



Honey Bunches of Oats (he has amazing patience with my work)



Boots



And, simply 'the dude' (because he is just...plain...cool)



Many years before the famous 'Marley and Me' book came out, my corgi-mix Marley, his crate, and a small package of baby carrots were the first things to arrive in my loft apartment in Centreville, Virginia, on a hot summer day in June 2000. (to this day he still LOVES baby carrots)

Marley was picked up from a shelter in Maryland by a rescue called Lucky Ones, which, at the time, went around to shelters in the DC area and would rescue dogs they thought they could find homes for through their organization. Marley was a very lucky one, because his story consisted of a 10 year old boy that was writing a school paper on the Lucky Ones organization for his elementary school class, and the Director of Lucky Ones asked him which dog he would pick to 'save' in the shelter to find a permanent home. That dog was Marley. And if he hadn't been picked, he would have been put to sleep the next day, at seven months old.

So, Marley and I were both lucky when he was picked by that 10 year old kid, because he's as close to a child that I've ever had. He's incredibly spoiled. He snuggles with me, he licks my tears when I cry, and he's officially my shadow, following me around everywhere I go.

A cat (and person) in a dog suit, I managed to keep Marley from begging until he was 6, when my now husband decided to teach him to 'effectively communicate'. (which he is still very proud of) Marley was trained on food by my husband, who was formerly a teacher, to point with his paw at what he wanted, whether it was to go out, if he needed more water, or anything really... But really what he did was teach Marley to beg, because that's when the aggressive 'pointing' with the paw started at the dinner table.

Over 10 years later, Marley is approaching his 11th birthday, on December 23rd, and now more than ever the history I share with this little dog, my longest 'relationship' I like to joke, becomes increasingly important to me, and makes me hope that for years to come, my golden boy will be there, too.



And the song that we associate with Marley will always make me smile, as well...(remember, I said Marley is COOL)



(Remembering Dutch, my friend's dog that passed away two weeks ago. You will be missed.)

Charleston on a Sunday, the Aquarium: An Easy, Happy Day

As the last of the weekend comes to an end, I sit here with my husband and dog thinking about how three day weekends should be mandatory across the US. No, I'm not a socialist, I just believe in balance.

My brother and sister-in-law came to visit this weekend with my nephew, and were able to see first hand how badly we want to live downtown on the river in a schmancy million dollar house (onnnnne day), while we walked around the Battery on this cold day (much colder than I thought it would get here) passing overpriced needlework stores that sit next to lawyer's offices. I guess I did think Charleston was as warm as south Florida. Soooo not the case.

To get a break from the chilly weather, we decided to go to the Charleston Aquarium, which turned out to be a real treat.



Having only been to the Baltimore Aquarium before, I expected it to be similar in some ways to that, but it wasn't. The fish, birds, and reptiles are all from the Southeastern part of the country. (I won't mention the poisonous snakes that we saw curled up together, due to the fact that my husband is TERRIFIED of snakes).

When we saw the birds that were there, at first, it made me really sad the way they were longing to be outside with their gazes...birds shouldn't live in a cage.



What we soon learned, though, was the fact that all of the birds that live at the Aquarium are hurt in some way that wouldn't allow them to survive in the wild. That made us all feel better.



And then we saw the huge tank full of fish, a giant sea turtle, coral and sharks. Simply beautiful. And a great way to end the weekend. Period.

Just Breathe: Week Two of Being Positive

Okay, I'm breaking my own rule. I said that I would never discuss politics on this Blog.

Well, I'm kind of breaking the rule and kind of not, because really I'm only going to say in my week two 'beeeeeeeee positive', is that I've had a really difficult two months, since I don't deal with change very well, and not really having a friend that I can call to go out on the spur of the moment when I need a friend here in Charleston is just...really hard. So I decided, on a Wednesday night, to take myself to the most positive place I have been introduced to here in Charleston (thanks to two great friends), which is Seacoast Church. By myself.

And I normally wouldn't be talking about it in this forum because I really like to keep the spirituality stuff personal (just how I roll) except for the fact that it was quite different tonight than I thought it would be. After the normal singing opener, which at this place, I would say is as good as 20 minutes of yoga, the super cool and progressive (and seemingly very Liberal) Pastor, Greg Surratt, introduces his friend that just won in the South Carolina Congress yesterday, Republican Tim Scott, to the congregation, since apparently Tim has attended the church for 14 years. (and this is when all of my Democrat friends (and family) say 'BOOOO HISSSSSSSS' and all of my Republican family members say 'WOW, THAT'S REALLY COOL')

But my point is not that he is a Republican, or the fact that he's not a Democrat, because at this point in my life I'm about as moderate as they get and I could swing either way, really, because I really don't know who to believe anymore in politics. What really struck me with this person, Tim Scott, was his story and the odds he has overcome to make it to the point in his life that he, yesterday, was voted into the United States Congress. This man grew up in a poverty stricken household with an alcoholic father and single mother, and nowhere to turn until he had a positive influence that came into his life when he was a sophomore in high school, and this person helped Tim find the good and the inner-strength to break out, to go to college, get a degree in Poli Sci, start a successful business that eventually allowed him to give back to the community and also to buy his mother a house to ensure she was taken care of, and now has propelled him to Washington, DC.

I love hearing stories of people that beat the odds, because really that's what we all need right now when life seems so bleak and hard. And this story, well...it's a little familiar. I just hope the story I know ends up with the same happy ending.

But here's the main thing that Tim said that really stuck with me. He said 'It's not other Americans that need to clean up their acts to get this country back on track. It starts with US cleaning up our OWN ACTS to get this country back on track'. It's about accountability, which is so important now, and which is something that I try to be as much as possible.

My hope is that this post won't make anyone mad or turn anyone off...this post is not about partisanship, but is really about trying to see the good in people, if you agree with them or not, and to see the light at the end of the really long, dark tunnel.

And on that note, I leave you with this lovely song, which has gotten me through many tough days the past few months, and will get me through many more, no doubt.

"Just Breathe" (Yes, Laurie likes techno) :)

Halloween: The Aftermath

The day after Halloween is kind of like the day after Christmas. You have all of this build up, you have a great day (and night), and then you are already thinking about what you want to be next year. (Tom Petty? Hmmmm. Ike and Tina? Maybe. We saw an amazing Tina Turner that inspired me ((and then I could dance to Tina Turner music all night.)) YES!)

So here's what we did:


Costume Number 1: Sammy Hagar. No, I wasn't kidding when I said I was going to be David Lee Roth and my husband was going to be Sammy Hagar. The chin strap goatee was key. And boy was he GLORIOUS. HAHAHAHA. And someone came up to us and asked if that was his REAL HAIR. So there it is. He could totally pull it off. And what surprised him even more was that I liked it and started talking about him growing his hair out. I stopped talking when he started looking at me funny.



Costume Number 2: David Lee Roth. I'm not nearly as cool as my husband, I will admit. So I will just chalk it up to say I had an awesome time and one person at the Halloween party knew who we were. SUCCESS!



The First Destination: Taco Boy in downtown Charleston. So we heard about a Halloween party downtown at Taco Boy, and considering I knew nothing about where we were headed, except that there is another Taco Boy in Folly Beach, I was wondering if we were headed in the right direction. But after we drove through a seedy part of town in which I maintained veto power on the destination for most of the way, I was pleasantly surprised based on the number of cars at the restaurant, and the sheer coolness of the place. A restaurant with a huge outdoor fenced area with tables, palm trees, an outdoor bar, glittering strung lights, and a rockin' reggae band, I was thrilled. Taco Boy. Equipped with a Yoda with a 5 foot head, and a couple dressed as 'Up!', in a house they totally built, with balloons flying overhead (who apparently won $1,000 after we left for best costume - but they seriously deserved it...we wondered how they would even get drinks). All in all, I'm so glad we made it here. Best. Halloween. Party. Ever. These peeps take Halloween to a level I've never seen. In a good way.

The Second: Triangle Bar. Headed home, we stopped at the Triangle, but after going to Taco Boy, it was hard to compete. Minutes later we were back in the car driving home to watch as much of the movie Misery as we could before bedtime.

Halloween: Day 2 (the real Halloween): Old City Jail Tour.




So we booked a 7pm Ghost Tour here on Halloween. The sun was setting as we drove up. The ominous lack of lighting and decaying building exterior just looked CREEPY. And boy were we excited. Stories of dead bodies that were buried outside of the jail without gravestones were told, of awful conditions of the jail from the 1700's to the 1930's when the government finally said 'enough' and opened a new jail with electricity and 'necessities'. This place was beyond dreadful and spooky, and if there ever was a ghost in Charleston, I bet it was here. I mean, this place held one of the first documented female serial killers, who was an innkeeper that poisoned her guests with Oleander tea. Yikes.



Stories of Solitary Confinement in the Prison. But what took the scary cake, was when we were outside the solitary confinement area of the jail, below a single red light that gloomily lit the room. I was standing there listening to stories of the 'living coffins' the prisoners were placed in for days, weeks, and months, which was their version of solitary confinement...when...something touched my right arm more than once, only to look over and see that the nearest person to my right was over a foot away.

We were told that many strange and unexplainable experiences happen in this place, all the time.

What did everyone else do for Halloween? Amazing or not, tell me about it!

 

A Charleston Newbie's Guide to Halloween

So, I had this idea over the summer to be 80’s rock stars for Halloween, because everyone loves 80’s rock stars…and in honor of my brother Tim, and my childhood memories of him jumping off the basement fireplace to Van Halen’s ‘Jump!’ over and over again, I’m going to be David Lee Roth, and my husband is going as Sammy Hagar, and we are going to argue all night about which one of us was better for the band (which, come on, we already know the answer to ;). I got some great digs in NYC last weekend (because people are actually CURRENTLY WEARING the same kind of things that David Lee Roth wore on stage back in the day).

You can bet your bottom dollar, however, I will not be jumping like ‘this’ on Saturday…



Anywho, to get ready for the weekend here in Charleston, I've found 3 Super Cool Things to do this Halloween weekend:

1. Rock Out:

Who:  Band Of Horses (LOVE)



Where: Performing Arts Center. North Charleston

When: 8pm, Friday, 10/29

Info: Tix are sold out, BUT, some are being sold on Craigslist for last minute peeps. And maybe the band will be hanging around town this weekend, which would also be a super cool Halloween sighting downtown.

Listen: http://www.bandofhorses.com/us/music/infinite-arms


2. Get Spooky (On the Town):  

What:  It’s a HALLOWEEN BASH

Where: Triangle Char and Bar, West Ashley, Charleston

When: Saturday, Oct 30th, Party starts at 7pm

Info: Live Music by the Green Levels
- $2 Triangle Bloody Red Brews
- Costume Contest at 11pm
- Prizes include 4 tickets to our legendary New Year's party & free bar tabs!


3. Get Spooky (Kickin' it Old School):



What:  Have a more perfect way to spend 90 minutes before going out than a walking Ghost Tour in historic Charleston? I didn't think so. And Charleston is kinda spooky ANY evening, so I think Halloween is going to be very special.

Where: Historic, downtown Charleston

When: FUN walking tours are still available for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night through Bulldog Tours.

Info: Bulldog Walking Tours include:
- The Charleston Ghost and Dungeon Tour
- The Charleston Ghost and Graveyard Tour
- The Charleston Haunted Jail Tour
(Another one I won’t mention on my PG Blog)

Reserve: http://www.zerve.com/Bulldog/Ghost/calendar

What is everyone ELSE doing for Halloween? Dressing up as rockers, yes? No? Whatever you do, watch this first for inspiration:



PS - Kelly, Parker, and Stephanie, wish you were here. XOXO