The slow lane

Magnet #1100 - Charleston, SC

I've been to Charleston several times over the years, but it was actually STW BIL got this magnet for me on his travels.

That's a buggy ride down Rainbow Row, a colorful set of row houses that were originally built in the 1700s as a commercial district, and were restored in the 1920s and 30s in Colonial Caribbean colors. When I was little, we did one of those touristy carriage rides throughout the streets of Charleston - the multiple-passenger ones with a team of horses out front. Pretty cool when you're 10! It was our own surrey with the fringe on top!

Lately, I kinda feel like I'm driving a horse & buggy down here below the Mason-Dixon line. Having been in NY for almost half my life, I've gotten used to a fair amount of hustle and bustle. Moving quickly about my day, fast service wherever I go, subways to get to my destination quickly, not stopping for anything but those tourists in the middle of the sidewalks.

Down here, it takes 10 minutes just to get to town from my house, and up and down the country roads I go. And more than half that time, I get stuck behind someone who is taking a country drive (literally), someone who must know full well that the speed limit is 55, but takes it 45 or 50 anyway. This morning, taking Mom to work? Seriously, a line of cars behind one guy just moseying down the road. Dudes. He was backing up traffic (yes, traffic) at 5:45AM (yes, 5:45AM). Move it along, buster!

Oh, and don't get me started on the chit-chat. In the CVS line. And the post-office line. Basically, checking out anywhere. Even when there's a line of 5 people behind me, it's folks finding out how other folks (and their family and their extended family) are doing. Hey lady, ring 'em up and move 'em out!

But I can't really complain too much about people catching up with each other, when really, it's just good old folks caring about their neighbors. And I admit, it really is kinda sweet when even the guys at the local dump are asking me how my dad is doing.

I will say that the slow lane is starting to rub off on me, though. Yesterday, my dad chided me for "dilly-dallying at the stoplight."

Ah, backseat driving. Well, at least we know he's feeling a little bit better, ya'll.

Cannonball run

Magnet #822 - Charleston, SC

I'm trying to convince my best friend to do a babymoon with me - our last trip together before she settles down for the count.

I had all these grand delusions of London (nope, she won't fly overseas, understandably). Then NY (nope, I have no AC). Then Chicago (nope, it's too far). Then DC (nope, it's a walking city). Then Tennessee (nope, for sad and obvious reasons).

But, honestly, I'll be damned if I end up doing another North Carolina roadtrip. Or worse, yet, end up at the beach.

So, I've started to think of compromises. South Carolina's started to rise to the top, just for proximity's sake. There's nothing wrong with the state, I promise. But, given my hopes were initially set on London, it'll be hard to settle for the state next door.

Which is why I've been looking at my magnets for ideas of babymoon places and saw this cute one that I can't believe I haven't used before.

I've lost count of the number of times I've been to Charleston, SC. It was only four or five hours away from where I grew up, so it was pretty much a day trip for buying squid and shrimp there.

That, and Charleston was just one of those places my parents liked to bring people when they visited us in NC. We'd drive there early in the morning, do the horse-drawn wagon tour, visit their waterfront park, look across the way at Fort Sumter, visit that historic marketplace, see the houses on Rainbow Row (pictured here on this magnet), and then drive home.

To this day, I don't think I've ever spent the night in Charleston. Which of course, is a shame.

At the risk of sounding like I'm trying to convince myself, there's so much to see and do in Charleston. Like, I can't believe I still haven't done Fort Sumter. Though, I have a vague memory of a ferry boat, so maybe I have done the fort? Oh, my! Then why wouldn't it have looked familiar when Billy was walking along the ramparts, wondering if he should be trying to get back to Brett in North and South?

But, I digress. The one thing I absolutely remember most about Charleston is their battery park, otherwise known as White Point Gardens (who knew?). It's a promenade that basically lines their waterfront, and is lined with Civil War canons and stacked cannonballs.

Very cool. For some reason, when you're a kid that stuff's the funnest thing to play on. Or, it must have been anyway, because our family albums document us three girls growing up, each one of us posed on top of a cannon, or standing alongside the stack of them.

Mind you, there's something pretty funny about a BabyBumpBFF, trying to pose next to the stack of cannonballs. Hmmm...

Resolution #1: No more chicklit

Magnet #790 - Charleston, SC

Chicklit. Anyone who knows me knows I hate chicklit.

Love my romance books. Love the historicals, even when they feature Southern Belles, like this magnet from Charleston. Love my contemporaries. And you know I LOVE y category (except Harlequin, depending on the author). Dude, I can even hang with Paranormals. Kinda.

But chicklit? With its neurotic heroines? No.

In fact, I'll go you one unpopular opinion further that might make you hate me: I hate Bridget Jones.

Yes. I said it. I hate Bridget Jones. I blame her for the plethora of chicklit in the marketplace.

If there's anything I can't stand, it's a heroine I can't look up to. I don't care that she gets the guy in the end. I have to put up with her silliness before getting there - the embarrassing moments, the insecurities, the gaffes, the social ineptitude, and through it all her indomitable and quirky spirit survives!

Only to find out she hasn't really changed, that finding her true love who accepts her for who she is, quirkiness and all, and thennnnn, we have to sit through another movie of basically the same gags. Ugh. I know. I'm not human.

Look, I read romances because it's an escape for me. It's about the hot guy and the fun romance. It's about love conquering all. But for me, there has to be some aspect of the heroine that I respect. Honestly, why would I want to read about someone who is possibly as neurotic as me?

So here's my dilemma. As much as I hate chicklit, I love the trade paperback format. Bigger, easier to hold open on a subway, and dammit, sometimes cuter covers!

I get sucked in by a cute cover with a contemporary design, a British flag, with somewhat intriguing sales copy on the back, and yes, even a quote from Meg Cabot, and I'm walking out with a $4.98 B&N bargain book about a quirky movie star who moves to London to find herself and her true love.

First few pages, sucked right in.

Next few pages, heroine's internal thoughts still seemed ok, even though she's starting to lose her cool.

Next couple of pages, she's totally headed to the land of no return, as I wait for her to redeem herself. She doesn't.

By the next few pages, she's totally taken up residence in the land of no return with a complete heroine breakdown, with yelling and sushi and massages from her half-Asian assistant named Akira.

And, by page 27, she thinks that "Asians always had that magical touch."

WHAT?

Yeah. Done. So done that I'm recycling the book. In the trash.

On Earth Day, no less.