Driving. Tonight, I find myself in Austin, Texas, which means I have driven  1,200 miles since Sunday. The first leg of the trip, from Venice, FL to Pensacola, FL was rather uneventful. Here’s a plane on a stick:

I spent the first night somewhere in Pensacola. I’m not quite sure where, but there was a Waffle House next to it. Did you know that Waffle House really wants you to follow them on Facebook and Twitter? Neither did I.  This was also nearby:

I headed to Pensacola Beach the next morning because I wanted to see the oil. Luckily, there was none there. Today, however, I was told that it hit.

I took I-10 West all the way out to New Orleans on Monday. There, I met up with my wonderful friend, Kelsey, and she took me into the city. I must say, I was pleasantly surprised. I was told that the city was full on manimals (people that are referred to as animals) and still in bad shape from hurricane Katrina. As far as I could tell, everything was holding up pretty well. New Orleans is laid out more like a European city, and everywhere we went different memories of my time in Europe last fall rushed out from the depths of my memory.

Native New Orleans music was playing everywhere: the restaurants, bars, stores, and the streets themselves. It was only a Monday night, but they city was alive. We stopped at Cafe Du Monde where a cute little girl came and took our order for Beignets, which are like solidified funnel cakes, and three times as glorious.

A few hours in the Big Easy was not long enough. Spending the evening of the summer solstice was an experience so pristine, and I hope my next to the trip is as eventful.

Oh, I also bought a wooden cane, and it’s fucking sweet.

I spent the night at Kelsey’s, and then continued westward. I crossed the mighty Mississippi, which was a boyhood dream realized. Then I came to the conclusion, that Louisiana is way too long. I just wanted to hit Texas already. Then, I did:

Other than Detroit, Houston is the absolute worst place in the world. From afar, it looks post-apocalyptic. A thick veil of gray smog surrounds the downtown area, and at street-level, you are completely surrounded by vehicles on all sides. The only thing that could quell my rage against the city was Christmas music on my iPod.

Made it to Austin.

The best part of driving in Texas has been blasting AC/DC along TX-71 as loud as I want with no one to hear it. Another good driving moment: The Rolling Stones’ Beggars Banquet straight through Louisiana.