Cockroach, oh cockroach, I hate you, you stink...

Living in the South, you become familiar with a very frightening, winged creature, whose very existence I still question. The 6-legged terror is known as the elusive, disgusting cockroach. From the Latin word Barata, this insect, belonging to the phylum Arthropoda, has been giving me (and countless others) fits for as long as I can remember. **Props to Wikipedia for the scientific information because we all know I didn't know that crap.** This picture alone is reason enough to start uncontrollable itching on my part along with a little vomit rising in my throat; you're welcome.

However, I do not post to tell you of my hatred for the cockroach, but to tell you a tale. Seriously, I'm becoming more and more nautious the more this picture is on my screen, so I am having to type to take its picture away; they are that sick to me. GEEEEEW! Anyway, back to the point. Everyone who has been a native to the South for more than a year knows that summer is, unfortunately, pique cockroach time. I'm unsure if the warm weather brings them out of their oak tree santuaries or if it's the smell of BBQ and the sounds of unbothered fun from unsuspecting humans or what, but for whatever reason, they come out in droves during these hot, hot Alabama months. Even if you live in a relatively clean and tidy place, you still find them, lurking in the bathroom, or, in the case of my story, buzzing through your friends apartment. *insert shudders from readers and looks of disgust*

Last week, Lucy, Dominique, Joy Tiley, and myself were enjoying a nice little Tuesday evening together sitting around Dom's living room; a little laughter, a little seriousness, a little red wine, a few "that's what she said" comments, the evening was going great. The events that proceeded the arrival of the roach are still unclear, but I believe that Dom was talking, making a fairly serious point about something, when all of a sudden, as if apparating from some unknown place, a giant FLYING cockroach soars through the living room and lands in Dom's dining room. There are 3 insects that I have a very hard time keeping my composure around; wasps, bees, and cockroaches (spiders don't count since they are arachnids, but I do also have a hard time keeping my composure around them as well, what up) and apparently I am not the only member of this Fantastic Foursome that has this problem because when we saw the roach, every one of us screamed at the top of our lungs. You would've thought an armed robber had just burst through the door with the sounds that came out of that place, but no, it was merely my arch-nemisis, la cucaracha.

Shouts and screams of "Get a shoe! Get a shoe! Kill it, kill it!" resounded throughout the room as poor Dom (the only one NOT standing on a piece of furniture) ran to find some sort of footwear to bring this miserable creature to its death. She hit it over and over and over again on her dining room carpet and even backed it into a corner, where it appeared motionless and lifeless, meeting the death it very much deserved. I decided to "man up" and spray it with some scented Lysol (there was no bug spray, ok) just to ensure its death. As I walked over and sprayed it, to all our surprise, the little s.o.b. began to quickly skirt about the place as we all began to scream and yell once more. According to Dr. Joseph Ayers, "The cockroach’s speed is due to the design of its legs and body. It has a stable posture with a low center of gravity. The legs are essentially blind thrusters, pistons angled just the right way, so it will inevitably scramble over objects in its path, whether it sees them or not." Whatever, Dr. Ayers, they still suck.

So, after that, Dom quickly puts the tennis shoe back on top of it, but she can't get to an angle to put enough weight on it without lifting the shoe and releasing the sick little beast, so I stepped up, literally, and ran to stand on top of the shoe, squishing the pest with all my might. We waited a good minute or more, just to make sure he was dead, and when Dom took the shoe off the winged beast, I SPRINTED and SHRIEKED to the nearest couch because I just knew it wasn't going to be dead. FALSE: it was. And I looked like a jack-a. After that we were left with the dilema of who is going to pick up the vile, shredded pieces of the roach. Lucy stepped up to do it (notice, Tiley, completely absent from the killing of the roach. No shame, Tiley, I wish I would've been. I do believe your shoe was the one that killed it, so there's your contribution). Lucy went and got about 1 million paper towels and when she went to pick up the remains, she began to gag, but tried to pick it up anyway. She had a hit and miss, though, and got nothing, gagged some more, threw down the paper towels and said, "I can't do it, I can't do it!" I believe, yet again, Dom came to the rescue, picked up the thing, disposed of it, releasing us from our cockroach hell.

This was one of those moments in my life that I wish I had a video camera set up because we could've definitely sent that thing into AFV and made the big bucks. Be that as it may, you will have to settle for my written, slightly dramatic, retelling of the event. Regardless, it's still pretty hilarious.

I can't promise that if I saw someone dressed like this at any sort of costumed gathering I would be able to resist hitting them with a shoe over and over again, just out of habit.

Back by popular demand...

So seems as if many people are in desperate need of some Shrop love--AKA Joy and Lauren said to post one of my favorite pictures of myself. Ok, now I know that sounds a bit vain, and it probably is, BUT you will notice, it is not a Glamour Shots '05 type photo. I think I like it because I look like a small child (which, let's be honest, I am half the time due to spending half of my time with small children). It is from my first Beach Project in PCB swimming in the pee-infested pool at the Aqua View Dive Inn. A hole in the wall among castles and kings, if I do say so myself, the Aqua View will forever live in emphamy for it's lack of water pressure, creepy/angry Russian landlord and crying wife, and wild antics that carried on at all hours of the night. So...without further interruption...I give you...me. :)

Now isn't that just the happiest face you've ever seen in your life? Come on now.

I've also decided to include some random photos from random points from random summers. Could I use the word random anymore?

This is the cow that ruined my life on my Mexican camping trip and ate all my Animalitos. That B.

This is my precious, sweet, wonderful Mexican amiga Gloria (or Glo) that I miss more and more everyday. Plus we're awesome because we put Gummy Bears on our heads...Mexican colors, of course. Te quiero mi amiga!

Never ever let a group of hungry Americans ravage a Carl's Jr. in Guadalajara, MX because there will be a shortage of hamburgers for at least the next 2 weeks...and some definite plumming problems. WHAT UUUUP.


A fairly accurate depiction of my wardrobe for most of the summer of '06. Sponge Bob Fiesta Pants, whaaat?!

What Super Hero roller skating social would be complete with a visit from this lovely gentleman? Oh, my Johnny, how I love thee.


This isn't actually from the summer, but I just wanted to post it in honor of seeing my Georgie this summer.


So, this picture is a kick-off to this summer...Dom and a Mexican moo-moo is maybe the best thing ever. True story.

"I like it when girls stop by for the summer..." Thank YOU LFO

Ah, L.F.O., or Light Funky Ones as you were formerly known...you're one hit wonder about Cherry Coke, Fun Dip, and Abercrombie & Fitch always takes me back to the glorious days of summer...plus it's a lyrical masterpiece. So in honor of Joy K. Allen...

This summer will you....

1..Dye your hair? Negatory. I have the dubious honor and gift from the Lord above of blonde hair that I don't have to dye/highlight. It's the one thing I got that I can "brag" about. Just call me Samson.

2. Get a tan, or burn? If you know me, do you really need to know the answer to this question? (Tan, duh, I'm an addict...Intervention, please?)

3. Go on vacation/trip? Well, I will be traveling to HOTlanta to see one of my PRECIOUS WONDERFUL FABULOUS AMAZING HILARIOUS BEAUTIFUL bestest friends GEOOOORGIE STENT and then going to the MOB some, but no big concrete hardcore plans.

4. Go camping? Don't have any plans...me and camping have never really meshed well...something about the bugs...and the cramped tent...and the rocks that generally dig into my spinal chord as I sleep.

5. Plant flowers? Not unless I plan on planting them outside by my Club MTV pool in my fantastic apartments.

6. Play in the sprinkler? Negative...the art seems to of lost it's magic and luster for me. I freakin owned that thing though when I was a youngin.

7. Have a job? Technically yes because I am still employed by the state even though I do get the summer off, but don't go saying I don't have a "real" job because, I do, it just has awesome vacation time...that all falls at the same time.

8.Go on any road trips? A mini one to ATL...Jorgita get the Alanis ready...yeaaaaaah.

9. Do anything with your family? Of course...the sister is up here and I'll be home in the MOB playing with my precious mother and sister and rest of my fam because I won't have crap else to do after AMSTI gets done taking over my life.

10. Do anything with your friends? But of coooooourse! You gotta love a good Wine Down Thursday as well as some classic Club MTV pool time, PLUS there are weddings weddings and more weddings PLUUUUUUUUUUUS I get to hang out with my Georgie PLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS my other two favs Jillian and Eva are having their bachlorette fiesta this weekend which will be AMAZING plus Guster plus so much more this sentence doesn't even make sense anymore.

11. Spend your money or save it? Considering most of my days will be free...I'm gonna plead the 5th. :)

12. Do anything you’ve never done before? Be in someone's wedding who is not related to me annnnnnnnd go to the ATL aquarium with G-Money...I'm livin large, I know, I know.

13. Who will you spend the most time with?My fantastic and hysterical friends, my hilarious family, and my glorious DVR...I told you...re-la-tion-ship. We had the DTR...it was everything I ever hoped for and more.

15. Favorite food on the bbq: Burgers and hot dogs...but mostly burgers...mmmm, delightful.

16. Favorite summer drink: Margs (but they're really great anytime of year, let's be real) and, um, Diet Coke? I'm not much of a "seasonal" drinker...but Icees are amazing, Dom.

17. What do you look forward to when summer comes? SLEEPING! And the sun staying out to play later, and dusk, OOOH, and playing in the water. And eating outside. And laying out. And wearing dresses. And I'm done.

18. Would you rather it be winter? Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllll to the naw. You can't eat dinner outside in the winter, which is one of my favorite things to do (yeaaah Dom)

19. How many times will you hit the beach? I mean I hope at least once (to see my sweet Lesley), but who knows...times like these when I miss the Gulf Coast. Birmingham=mountainous hills=not the flat white sandy beaches of the coastal region.

20. Do you go camping? Been there, done that, didn't buy the t-shirt because it wasn't that awesome....but it was in Mexico...and I did sleep on top of a giant rock...and I did have to listen to Johnny and Matt playing stick ball with dirt rocks and Jill cheer them on the homerun victory. That part was hilarious, the being sick to my stomach/sleep deprived/having all my animalitos (animal crackers) taken out of my back pack by a wild cow and eaten...not so awesome.

21. Flip flops or shoes? Flippy floppies...Havaianas if you pleeeeeeease.

22. River or pool? Um, don't really do open bodies of water, but I'm all about LOOKING at them and SITTING by them, but I love a pool.

23. Shorts or dresses? No me gusta shorts, but te quiero a cutsie dress!

24. Favorite summer treats? Hawaiian shave ice and Pop-Ices and BEING ABLE TO SLEEP! What uuup.

25. Favorite summer memories? Oh me, oh my... when I was little playing flashlight tag way late at night or any other late night rendevous we may of had as children, spending all day at the swim club and getting the "white trash ballpark sunburn" under my eyes, sitting on my grandmothers patio eating pickles and pop-ices and shelling peas, living in the room with a tiolet that didn't flush...ever...or have water pressure higher than that of an eyedropper in PCB at Project my first summer, working at the Holiday Inn and dressing up like Sponge Bob my 2nd summer, taking every sort of mode of transportation (walking, hitching, bus, taxi) to get to a mall in Guadalajara, Guadalajara as a whole, pretty much anything involving summer is my favorite...I can't deny it.

Where, oh where, have my TV shows gone?

May is always a good month. Summer comes, the weather is changing into prime pool time weather, the sun sets later giving us ample daytime playtime, and the best thing of all, I get some time off work. Some have told me teachers don't live in the real world since we get a "2 month break," but let me assure ALL of you that teachers need summer otherwise the amount of teacher/student battery cases as well as the numbers in the psych ward would rise dramatically. However, with May also comes a sad, sad time: season finale time.

Yes, I watch TV. Yes, I watch a lot of TV. Some might even say I have a "relationship" with my television. So what if I have a show (sometimes 2) each night that are scheduled to record on my DVR? Don't hate, appreciate. This past year did not disappoint in the television department. From 24 to American Idol to The Office to How I Met Your Mother, I have been entertained all spring long. So many questions are left unanswered. How is Jack Bauer going to come out of this biohazard sickness alive? When are Jim and Pam going to tie the knot? Before or after they have their little Jam baby (Jim + Pam, what up)? Who IS Ted Mosby's (*wink* architect) wife and WHEN will we meet her? And most importantly, how many pieces of hate mail are the producers from American Idol going to get from queens, hags, and middle aged women across the country due to Adam Lambert's "shocking" loss?

I could probably talk forever about my opinion on AI this season. One thing is for sure, I wanted sweet little Allison to win or that precious Danny Gokey. They were both amazing. COME ON! Maybe I'm biast because they both have raspy voices and give hope to vocal nodgal suffers everywhere, but I just love them. Don't get me wrong, Adam Lambert has talent, but he belongs on Broadway, and I believe I would know. I mean, after all, I did do choir tour. Em-bar-ass-ing.

SPEAKING of choir tour, I could not be more excited about Fox's new show coming on in the Fall, Glee. There was a special sneak preview after Idol on Tuesday, and it was hilarious, and also complete with numbers from several of my favorite musicals. Seriously, who is going to pay for my all access pass to Broadway? I'm going to need that to happen, A-SAP. You can make donations and checks payable to Katie Shropshire. All donations will be tax deductible. Maybe.

Anastas-yeaaaaah

I know, I know, I have not posted on this thing in forever. That is because school was ending, life was chaotic, and I got lazy; but school is now over, it is summer, and I felt it was high time to make a post.

My last day with my kids was on Thursday of this week. I felt it was a little bitter sweet as this has been such a crazy, hectic year of teaching; I say that as if I have anything to actually compare it to, but you get the point. The kids did lots of fun activities all week to keep themselves entertained while Miss Shrop got her clean on, if you will. They colored, they talked (a lot), and most importantly watched many fantastic and awesome children's movies, one of which would be one of my all time favorites: 20th century Fox's Anastasia.

Ever since the Explorium in Mobile had an exhibit on the Romanov family, I have been fascinated by the story of Anastasia. I know you're all surprised; me, be infatuated by a sad, traumatic event in world history? Get out! (Enter my other weird fascination with WWII/Holocaust) Anyway, so I love the movie Anastasia. My family used to jam out to the soundtrack in the minivan all the time as well as watch the movie loads and loads of times. Now mind you, I was in about 7th or 8th grade when this movie came out, so honestly, I really have no actual excuse to of ever liked it, but it is what it is.

Besides the exciting, overexaggerated storyline, the phenomenal musical scores, the flirty banter between the cinematic epic's headliners, there is one part I love maybe the most, and that would be Dimitri. Dimitri is the very much animated, very much not real leading man of the film. Now I can't tell you if it's the looks, that fact that he's a little mischevous but turns from his "sinful" ways, or that John Cusack is his voice, but for whatever reason, he is, to quote the great Randy Jackson "for me, for you" the hottest animated male ever. Now, I know I might have some argument from some saying other more "popular" animated characters are more attractive, say Eric from The Little Mermaid or Moses from The Prince of Egypt (maybe that's just Joy Tiley and Lucy) and so on, but I stick to my guns on this one. Then again, I might have others who would argue, "Uh, hey, it's a cartoon, how can someone be hott? You're weird."

You might be judging me right now, and that's ok, I fear no judgement on this matter; but deep down inside, you know there is some animated male that you find more attractive than others and, if given the chance, you'd definitely break out into random song with them any day.

I mean, look at that face. What's not to love?

Little Barber Shop of Horrors

Since the arrival of Spring, the kids in my class have gone bananas. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. I'm not entirely sure if it's the weather, or the fact that we have T minus 24 days of school and counting, or what, but they have been nuts. They've all got the crazy eye. Spring fever. Whatever you want to call it. And apparently, lucky for me, everyone tells me this is how it is until the end. of. the. YEAR. Eva and I were discussing it and we decided we don't think we'll be able to make it that long. I mean, I may very well end up in a home, or an institution, but whatever.

So, the other day at school, we had Career Day. For 2 hours, my kids, along with all the other kids in school, went to visit various stations to check out different careers. First, we went to see a Karate instructor demonstration, which they loved. Then, we went to listen to, and I mean this when I say it, SERIOUSLY, the most depressing clown ever. First of all, I hate clowns. Second of all, she was so sad and boring. She told the kids that, "Being a clown is only 5% fun and 95% hard work." Does she not know 1st graders do not understand percentages? I'm an adult and I barely get them. And what a depressing thing to tell 6 and 7 yeard olds anyway! All they cared about was the little dog she had doing tricks, and they barely saw that lovely performance. Then we went to see the firemen and fire truck and lastly we went to see a police officer. During his speech, SEVERAL students wanted to share about how their mother/father/uncle/aunt/neighbor/step-cousin/god sister/whoever was currently or has previously been in jail. Delightful.

The rest of the afternoon was spent making The Gallon Man. We've been learning measurement so I decided we'd make a Gallon Man. I'd explain it to you, but you don't care, and plus I don't want to do it, but just know that it involves colors, glue, and scissors. So we are working, quite nicely I might say, and I'm walking them step-by-step through every little thing because that's just what you have to do, when one of the girls in my room comes up and says she "found big pieces of hair in the trash." She then escorts me to the trash can where I do, in fact, see with my own eyes said pieces of hair. I ask the room who cut their hair and immediately an array of choruses of "Not me!" "I don't know, but I didn't do it!" and "I ain't even got hair, Miss Shrop!" broke out throughout the room. I kind of write it off, figuring I'll just get to the bottom of this hairy situation later, when not 5 minutes passes and the same student actually brings me another chunk of hair. I detest hair that is not attached to the head/body/wherever it is supposed to be; it grosses me out. Two more times this very same thing happened when finally, I'd had it. I examined the hair color closely, and at one point was pretty convinced that one of them had actually cut the under part of my hair because it was somewhat the same color, but I soon lay that theory to rest. I then proceeded to walk around the room with a small piece of the hair and held it up to any child's head that even remotely had the same color hair. I finally looked at the child who kept bringing me the hair to tell her I don't who this could belong to, when I stop. I look. I stare. I gasp. On either side of this poor child's long light brown locks are two, rather large, chunks of missing hair. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Oh my goodness, honey, what is this?" (as I rake my hands through either side of her hair, pulling out even more pieces of hair)
Child: "What?" (genuinely very VERY confused)
Me: "Sweetie, this is YOUR hair. Did you cut your hair?"
Child: "My hair? No! I promise!"
Me: "Well, baby, it's yours. I don't know how it happened, but it's your hair."
Child: "Aww, man! Now I'm gonna have two big chunks of hair missing on my head!"

The mystery of how or why this happened is still unsolved. There are several theories, but no concrete evidence for them. One includes the girl next to said girl apparently pushed her hair out of her face for her while she had scissors in her hand and this possibly caused the locks to seperate, or the child did the same thing herself and accidently cut it. Regardless, I did have to apologize profusely to the child's mother and assured her all students will be closley watched while using scissors. At least hers, anyway.



P.S. I had a FANTASTIC cherry on top of my mediocre week this Friday. Seems as if yours truly has won tickets to the Schaeffer Eye Center Crawfish Boil the first weekend in May. At this grand event I will get to see the lovely Jason Mraz and perhaps Snoop Dogg. I've even been entered into a drawing now to possibly MEET Jason Mraz. That would make my 2009, I tell ya. The great thing is, I never win anything! I found out the creeperton DJ on the radio station, who kept referring to me as a hottie even though he's never seen me and it was 7 in the morning, lives in my apartment complex and he told me to "look for him around." Sure thing, boss. I'll be watching close for your voice since I know what you look like and all. Creeeeep-yyyyyy.

Spring Break or Bust

You might be asking yourself, "What? Katie Shropshire exists? I thought she was just some phantom blogger who only occasionally will grace us with some classroom tale," but I am here today to tell not of a classroom tale, but to tell of my Spring Break.

Spring Break should be a magical time. A time of rest, relaxation, doing the things you love that are fun. Should be. I will say that I did have a most enjoyable Spring Break. I did not do much, which was awesome, and I got to see some friends I haven't seen in forever, ate at Butches and Mellow, and even venture to Mobile's very own Crescent Theater. If you don't know what it is, go out and support it, at least once. It's this little theater on LoDa (that's Lower Dauphin Street for those who did not sport the bumper sticker on their car in high school or weren't privy to taking a Mobile History Class where every Thursday we took a "field trip" to LoDa and got to get Krispy Kreme doughnuts on the way home. Ah, that life) that plays small independent films. The guy who owns it really loves movies. And I mean really loves movies. He tried to let us borrow his Swedish vampire movie DVD and said "Come back in a couple of days and I'll let you guys borrow it! It's great!" Maybe next time, Movie Guy; but I digress.

For the past couple of months I have been dying to do 3 things: 1-Go to the Audobon Aquarium of the Americas. 2-Go to the Audobon Zoo. 3-Eat some delish beignets. Where's the one place that houses all 3 of these exciting events? Why none other than the soup bowl city itself, our neighbor to the west, the place that stole Mardi Gras and "did it right," a little place I like to call New Orleans, or NOLA. My family has always loved to do these three things, so it came as no surprise to me that my sister Amber immediately was on board with hitting up these three lovely hot spots with me. We decided that the last Saturday of my Spring Break we would make the journey over to NOLA. We were so excited. Giant Sharks, Jelly Fish, Arangatuns, fabulous French doughnuts, what more could two you girls ask for? Let me tell you friends, nothing, that's what. And we didn't get any of those things. Allow me to explain.

To say we didn't get any of those is a bit dramatic. As I explain the story, let's see if you can figure out which of those things we did get. Did I just go 1st grade on you guys? My bad. We arose at 7:45 am that Saturday morning to begin our treck to New Orleans. Just a couple of modern day explorers; a regular Lewis and Clarke tale, if you will (and you will). We got ready, said bye to my mother and were off on our adventure by 8:45. We even stopped to get some Chick-Fil-A for breakfast which everyone knows is my fav. The day was off to a great start...until we hit traffic. One of the biggest questions I have had recently is the existence of highway construction. What purpose does it serve but to make all impatient drivers angry, irrate, and irritated. It never ever seems to get done. Point in case--just HOW LONG has Montgomery been trying to improve their I-65/85 junction? TOO LONG, I tell you. But anyway, yes, we hit traffic. On I-10. 30 minutes away from our destination. We sat. We waited. We watched as people continued to be ignorant of the concept of merging. We watched a woman almost get rammed in the arse of her car because she refused to move. She was just SITTING THERE. Why, we are still not sure, but this left us with a good 15 minutes of banter back and forth on why that woman sucks so much. But we didn't let this get us down. We cranked up the tunes even louder and just sang our little hearts out. I mean, don't tell us not to live...lifes candy and the suns a ball of butter, DON'T bring around the clouds to rain on OUR parade...woooah. But anyway, this little traffic jam, got more cars than a beach got sand, but us an hour pack in our regularly scheduled plan, but again, we were determined to persevre.

We finally made it to New Orleans. Amber and I were admiring all the rubble and mess that still exists from the hurricane, giving our less than 2 cents opinion on what the government should do to clean it up and rid that area of infection, disease, rats, and roaches, when we realized we might have missed our exit. This was after our father's warning on how not to get lost, pay attention, and we miss our exit. After several exits and enterances and explaining to Amber AGAIN that "Exit Only" does not mean you can't get back on the exit, we finally made it to the Aquarium. This little detour added an extra 30 minutes on to our all ready late arrival. No matter. We were there. We got to the Aquarium, purchased our "Audobon Experience" passes (you get into the zoo, aquarium, IMAX, and the insecturarium for the low price of $32.95) and hit the trail on our wildlife adventure. We made our way through the aquarium, only to remember that it is not actually as good as we remembered. There were too many people everywhere, especially small children, and we kept feeling like we had to get out of the way for them to see, but then were torn because we also paid good money to see the penguins and the otters too. There was also this giant lady in a wheel chair who kept blocking all the sea horse tanks. It's like she was reading our minds and thought "This is the tank you want to go see? Well, I'm going to park my giant motorized Rascal infront of it for 5-10 minutes until you become frustrated and walk off at which time I will follow, and beat you, to your next location." So the aquarium was not so awesome. No matter. On to bigger and better things. Beignets.

We went to the Cafe Du Monde in the Riverwalk because we didn't want to get caught up in the Jackson Square hullabuloo. As responsible and well raised children, we know it's important to eat a well balanced meal before eating deserts, so we went to grab a bite in the food court. Let it be said, the food in the food court sucks. Gross chicken, gross french fries, gross everything, but we ate it anyway. I even saved plenty of room for the light and fluffy scrumtrilescent treat. We make our way to the cafe, stand in line, discuss how excited we are to eat beignets, how we need to get an order to bring home to Mom, when our dreams come crashing and burning before our very eyes. A sign that read "Cash Only. No checks or cards." was posted right at the ordering end of the counter. I thought this must be a mistake; it must be outdated, but as I looked around I realized the signs were EVERYWHERE. Ok, not everywhere, but there was one more posted at the cash register. Well, we didn't have any cash and didn't see a nearby ATM, so we sadly stepped out of line. We quickly came to the conclusion that we would just walk down to Jackson Square, that certainly that location would accept debit cards. After all, this is 2009, not 1909. Well, we were wrong. They didn't. Not to mention the line at the original Cafe Du Monde was OUT OF CONTROL. Sadly and slowly, we tredged back to our car. It was now 4:00. Amber had an epiphone. Or actually a realization. The zoo closes at 5. We thought it couldn't be true. She also remembered, after telling me she DID KNOW, that she actually did NOT know how to get to the zoo from the aquarium. We called the Mom who had to navigate us as we wandered up and down Canal, finally making the several turnoffs we need to find and made it to the zoo...at 4:45. There were tons of people around so we though, maybe we were wrong, maybe the zoo DOESN'T close at 5. WRONG. It does.

We got in the car and made the trip back home. Amber remarked that she wanted to take her zoo ticket and "pee all on it then throw it out the window because that's what I did with my money." I decided since I did not get a beignet that I would, in fact, need ice cream. We stopped at Dairy Queen in some po-dunk town. We also noticed a giant white castle that SOMEONE had built to live in along the coastline. This provided us with a good 20 minutes of back and forth jokes in regards to the matter, that included "Just take a left at the Castle and you'll be there. If you pass the Castle, you've gone too far." We were able to laugh off the situation because that's what Amber and I do. Had it been anyone else, they might have cried or yelled for hours, but we just laughed, ate a Blizzard, tried not to the laugh at the drive-thru worker with the severe r-control problem, and throw our Blizzards at the large group of antique car owners who decided to have a car show in the parking lot. All in all, it was a crappy trip, but at least it provided me with a good story, and now took away 20 minutes of your life.