Saturday, March 28, 2009

Take the cannoli.

I'm on the road again. Last night I was in Berea. Another blog about that to follow. But right now I'm hanging in Knoxville, Tennessee.

(Tangent: I once got into a really big argument with my college roommate's boyfriend about the location of Fort Knox. I don't really like to argue, although I can be antagonistic at times. The only time I really argue is when I know that I am right. Otherwise, I'll just leave it until another time, or whip out the iPhone and find out. But in college, my roommate's boyfriend tried to tell me that Fort Knox was in Tennessee. Knowing that Fort Knox is just outside my hometown of Louisville, Kentucky, I argued with him. We got into a yelling match because he thought he knew everything, and I would not relent on this particular topic. Finally -- days later -- I convinced him he was thinking about Knoxville, Tennessee, and that Ft. Knox was, indeed, in Kentucky. That was an extremely frustrating few days for me. Anyway....)

This is my first visit to Knoxville, and I'm not really doing much. I'm in a small cafe called "Coffee & Chocolate" because with a name like that, why wouldn't I go inside? I'm having neither coffee nor chocolate, however. A soy chai latte and the yummiest cannoli I've had since Mellilo's closed down.

I'm back to traveling solo this weekend. I haven't done this in a long time. It's typically one of my favorite things in the world ... choosing to stop, choosing not to stop, choosing to pull over at a roadside historical marker, choosing to eat a cannoli. I like to just input my destination on Jane, my trusty GPS, and hit the road.

Something's a little off this time though. I keep seeing things that make me laugh, and I want to point them out to my slew of traveling companions. A week in Austin with some of the best company ever had me laughing so hard, I think I sneezed chips-n-salsa multiple times. I'm a little annoyed that I wish I'd brought a band with me.

Then, of course, I remember the time the drummer was sneaking a cigarette in the van, and he tossed it out the back window, and it came back in through the front window, and it landed right in my armpit because I was lying down sleeping, and I had a cigarette burn in my armpit. Maybe traveling solo isn't so bad.

I wonder where I'll sleep tonight?

Tonight's show: Preservation Pub. 28 Market Square. 10:00.

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