404 Not Found (My Week in Atlanta)

I spent a large amount of my week in Atlanta flipping u-turns, missing exits, and generally just driving in a random direction hoping I would see something I recognized. And this was with the aid of my iPhone's GPS. It's amazing that I'm still not in the bowels of Emory University's campus, crying and asking students if I could maybe crash at their dorm until my mommy comes looking for me. Seriously, how did people ever find their destination before the advent of turn-by-turn technology? I imagine they got lost a whole lot, and then had to convince themselves and everyone around that they had, indeed, found what they were looking for even if that included constantly starting a new life.

"Boom! There it is. North America. That place I was totally looking for!" -Christopher Columbus

I was in Atlanta to take care of Fuji, my brother Aaron and his girlfriend's cat. They went on a week-long cruise, and as I was jobless and growing weary of Birmingham, it seemed like a pretty great excuse to hang out in a new city for a week. Free place to stay, stocked fridge, the unconditional love of a cat – it's everything I need in life to make me happy. I was going to live like a true Atlantan, as defined by Ludacris.

Cailtin's house, my home for the week, is nestled in a quiet neighborhood in a northern Atlantan suburb. Or it would have been quiet if her neighbors had not chosen that week to cut down every tree in their yard and employed a team of early-rising Leatherfaces to do it. Every morning I woke up at about 8am EST (4am Nathan Standard Time) in a murderous rage at the chainsaws that were a few feet from the nearest window. I could eventually brush it off and fall back asleep, but one morning someone knocked on the door and asked me to move my car so debris wouldn't fall on it. I was pretty groggy, and somehow I locked myself out of the house. Luckily Caitlin, knowing that I was closely related to her boyfriend, planned for such an incident and hid a spare key. But I only half-read the note that explained where the key was hidden because what am I stupid? (answer: yes). I then proceeded to play an exciting game of Find the Key before a Tree Falls on my Car. It was tough, but I won.

While I was in Atlanta I, of course, had to try new restaurants. I ate at a 24-hour Vietnamese place where I had a mysterious but delicious square, spongy...thing. Midnight is too late to be eating yak spleen or some sort of reproductive organ, so if that's what I was doing I didn't want to know about it. My favorite dish I tried was at The Nook by Piedmont Park, and it was a huge plate of tater tots covered in chili and macaroni. By the way, that discomfort you are currently feeling in your torso is either your heart seizing up or your stomach trying to break through your abdominal wall and hitchhike to The Nook. Either way you should consult a physician, because both will result in your untimely death.

I also wandered through a couple farmer's markets, which are more international bazaar than anything. Buford Highway, where the markets are located, is a really unique area in that there are so many cultures represented. There are foods from around the world - Korea, Mexico, Vietnam, Japan, and whatever country thinks it's normal to sell live crawfish with nothing but tongs and a paper bag to put them in so you can do the rest of your shopping with angry river cockroaches in tow.

Alone they are harmless, but in swarms they could eat your children

I was surprised to stumble upon Georgia White Dirt again, hanging out with the mangoes. This confirms that more than one crazy grocer in Atlanta sells dirt in a bag, puts it in the food aisle, then warns you not to eat it by putting "not intended for human consumption" on the label. However, the Georgia White Dirt suppliers must be changing their marketing strategy, because I found one bag that had conspicuously erased the "not".

Directions: Step 1) put in mouth. Step 2) swallow. 

Step 3) call a doctor, because you have worms now. Step 4) repeat as desired.

My purchases at the markets included some foreign sodas, an albino coconut, and what I thought would be a delicious milk-like drink. It turns out it was nothing more than a bottle of the runny part of cottage cheese, and I am saving my upchuck for the shoes of the man who thought that would be a good idea.

I like my milk to be white, but this is dang near "Aryan"...*rimshotcymbalcrash*

I learned a lot during my stay in Atlanta, and not just about terrible food. It was good for me to get out of my comfort zone. I've been on plenty of vacations and trips, but this was the longest I had spent away from Birmingham in a long time, and it was interesting to see what things I missed and who I missed. I crashed several YSA church activities while I was there, and I was the "new guy". I haven't been the new guy at anything in 8 years, and I forgot how much effort it takes. Everyone was super nice, though, and went out of their way to make me feel welcome. It made me realize that I'm not the best at welcoming others, and that's something I need to work on. It also made me realize that new isn't always a bad thing. Heck, under certain circumstances I am willing to admit that new can be a good thing. But only under circumstances I dictate, and I still reserve the right to be set in my ways.

You didn't think I'd change that much in week, did you?