#40 - Visit the Grave of Edgar Allan Poe

...and the accompanying adventure.

This is obviously something I've wanted to do for a long time, as it's on the first page of my Bucket List. Poe has been one of my favorite authors for years, and I find myself in the heart of Baltimore this week, so I couldn't pass up this opportunity.

My dad was at his convention all day, leaving me to fend for myself. I had called him to see if he could sneak away for some brunch, but he couldn't, so he told me to take the money he left and go get a hotdog on the corner. He strictly specified if I stayed within the block that the hotel is on, I'd be fine.

Jokes on him.

I got my hotdog and decided, well, I'm already outside, might as well explore, right? I knew that the graveyard was close, but I didn't know what direction, so I pulled out my phone and mapped it. Literally the easiest directions ever, but it's important that I show you this map, so it's on the right.

Now why is this map so important, you ask? Well, you see... I got lost. Not "lost" in the traditional sense, but I walked right by it. Yes, I walked right by a 200+ year old graveyard. I even had looked at the church and said "Wow that's a beautiful building, I should take a picture of it..." and kept walking.

So when I finally figured out that I had gone too far, I turned around and eventually realized what I had done, it had started to sprinkle. I thought "no biggie," since I'm from Seattle and all. As soon as I set foot in the graveyard, to the sight of a beautiful monument erected for Poe, as well as what I understand is where Maria Clemm and Virginia Poe are buried.

As I walked around and browsed the graves of various famous (and not so famous) people, it started to rain harder. And harder. And harder. I eventually found the actual original burial place of Edgar Allan Poe, and crouched there for a minute or two before finally leaving. I had wanted to sit and read for a bit, but it was simply raining too hard. Some pictures from the graveyard:

 

 

So I decided to ditch the graveyard, thinking that the spirits were telling me that I should have listened to my dad. I knew I had passed the Lexington Market on my way there, and I figured I could find some solace there while the storm let up. So I briskly walked down the street to the market, dove inside, and tried to dry myself off a bit. I also took this picture to show how miserable and soaked I was. For reference, I was wearing flip flops with gel in them, and they basically just oozed water every time I took a step. Gross. 

So after the rain let up a bit I decided to head back to the hotel. Except, I did it wrong. Now, I'm gonna show you another map. Because this one is also important. Here's the map from the Market to the Hotel on the left. Shouldn't be that hard, right? Well this time, I didn't map it. I trusted my gut after I left the market and I walked the wrong way. And then I was like "Oh I know where I am because there are signs for the University!" and continued to walk the wrong way. And I might have walked into a bit of the wrong part of town because I decided to maybe look at a map. And then I VERY quickly turned around. Once I knew where I was I was golden and made it back to the hotel in no time (with a slight detour for some sweet tea). By the time I was within sight of the hotel there was tons of thunder and a bit of lightning, so I made it back just in time. My clothes are currently hanging over the tub and I'm comfortable in my PJs. AND I got to listen to the rest of the storm from the comfort of my bed.

So there you have it. Today we learned that although I am almost 23, I still need adult supervision. And if you leave me alone in a hotel room all day in a city I've always loved and never gotten to explore, I will not listen to you when you tell me to stay within a one block area. We also re-confirmed that even with a map, I never have any idea where I'm going. Ever.

#44 - Name a Pet Kuzco

So first off, I was talking about how I blog about my bucket list to a friend of mine and then I realized that I haven't blogged in almost a year, though I've accomplished a few things. Oops.

So here's a quick one for the night. Last June I was coming out of a doctors appointment and I saw this odd Yellow truck-van near where I get my prescriptions. At first, my mom and I thought it might be a taco truck, but as soon as we got closer I saw that it was the Humane Society and that there were, in fact, kitties in said truck-van. I yelled "PULL OVER NOW" and hopped out of the car before she had even put it in park (mind you, I had just had blood drawn and was in the middle of a ridiculous fibro flare).

So I was perfectly content just standing outside looking at all the cute kitties through the window, when suddenly a guy who works for slash volunteers for the Humane Society walks up to me and simply says the words: "You can go in and take them out of their cages if you want."

Man. What a mistake.

I opened up the door and immediately saw this little gray kitten standing up against the bars of his cage just meowing and meowing. I crouched down and frantically tried to let the little guy out, and once I finally figured out the handle he, no exaggeration here, LEAPT into my arms.

I started petting him and loving on him, and then I took a selfie with him cause who wouldn't want that, right?

My mom tried to tell me I couldn't have him, but she fell in love with him as well and in the end said "you're an adult and you can make your own decisions." So really what that means is "I am not taking responsibility for this when you tell your dad you brought home a cat."

So I brought home a cat.

And then hid it from my dad for 4 days.

But he became right at home, and walked in and looked around like he had lived here his whole life. He basically stepped in and said "This things? These are all mine."

And thus, Kuzco was named.

He is Lilo's baby, and occasionally thinks that he is a dog. To the point that he's actually a really heavy footed cat. Like, he may think he's sneaking around the house, but he's not. We all know where he is at all times.

Oh and all boxes are beds.