Skip and I worked most of Friday uploading video (check out our "DC Relections") and writing from Java Jackson's, across from UNC Charlotte. While there, one of my closest friends, Bee, drove up from her home in Greenville, SC, to meet us. Bee has been working pro bono for PFEE since I briefed her on this adventure weeks ago. Thanks to her, we have media in Greenville locked down.
Skip and I are keeping a running list of things that we would like to do on this trip (will be posting in the near future). While something like "Witness a bris" is on my list, one of the things on his list was "Go to Hooters;" you know, for the burgers. This is also the venue we chose to finally meet up with BJ Hill [Skip's note: The Happiest Place on Earth], who is also walking across the U.S. with a book of messages he intends to pass on to our next president. Bee and I know BJ from our AmeriCorps *NCCC days. (Read earlier blog entry.) There was a little reminiscing of that time by the three of us, but the dinner was monopolized mainly by Skip and BJ smelling each other out.
During the conversational butt-sniffing, I had to retreat to the bathroom. It seems that my body has not quite readjusted to eating meat again, especially meat marinated in Hooters hot sauce. Remember that scene in The Goonies, when that whats-his-name jerk is sitting in the public restroom when all of the public water facilities in the town decided to explode all at once? Well, it was kind of like that.
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In France, "les jeunes," the young people, love i.m.'ing, like young Americans do. "Les jeunes" i.m. in French, of course, except that they occasionally write little things like LOL. They don't know what it stands for in English but they know the translation in French. I am literally laughing out loud reading this! It is so great!
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