as i've driven around various parts of atlanta, stopping at various gas stations to fill up, i've noticed what seems - to me- a weird trend. many - a majority, i'd say, at least in southeast atlanta - of the gas stations have...barbeque joints attached to them. like, trailers, or tiny shacks, adjacent to or in the parking lot of these gas stations. it's not restricted by gas station type, either - i've seen 'em at new BP stations, at old texaco ones, all over the place.

and of course, because i am yuppified and condescending, i am POSITIVE that each of these places is a little down-home honest-to-god bbq gem. but, i am terrified to go in them because they do look exceedingly sketchy.

does anyone know anything about any of these places? how they got started? why they got started? what exactly about gas stations screams "must also open up bbq shack" to somebody? i promised myself to try at least a couple of them before i left atlanta, so i'll make sure to report back.

catherine's thursday night list of dos and don'ts:

do: go have a drink with a friend instead of running five miles. vodka gimlets and stella artois, to be exact

don't: consider the bowl of nuts at the bar to be your dinner

do: go hang outside to sober up for a while after the drinks

don't: hang out in centennial park, where, even though you're with a burly male, somebody will probably try to aggressively sell you crack as soon as the sun sets

do: listen to (following charles' example) the hold steady on the drive home. windows down a must. (don't worry; we'd sobered up. one of us, at least.)

don't: visit cockpunch.com, even though your boyfriend suggested you register it as your personal domain, because "that's your word! you own it!" (if you consider 14th on google results owning). but you really don't. some dumb boring blogger does. and it's really dumb. and we know we're all sick of dumb boring bloggers. (but i'm not gonna lie - the stick figure intro on the front is pretty great. and how it happens.) but seriously. it's NOT EVEN PORN. GAH.

do: eat a hot pocket to assauge tomorrow's hangover. really. my love for hot pockets is kind of legion. and EMBARRASSING.

one last do: have a good weekend, y'all!

if i weren't going to be at the beach labor day weekend, i would totally, TOTALLY, be attending Dragon*Con.

i might have to make up the awesome-dork quotient i'm missing by visiting the maryland renaissance festival this fall.

alright, i'll admiit it - atlanta has started to grow on me. it's got all these great neighborhoods, you see - the only problem is that you have to drive at least 15 minutes in between each of them. but contained within these adorable little neighborhoods like east atlanta village and little five points are great stores - good bars, restaurants, and boutiques.

and therein lies the problem. you see, i'm sick. i've got a fever. and apparently the only cure is more dresses.

I BOUGHT FOUR DRESSES THIS WEEKEND. what is wrong with me?!?! seriously. i hardly EVER wear dresses. skirts i'll wear on occasion to work, but i much prefer a pair of nicely-cut trousers or jeans. but i went on a freaking rampage this weekend. here's the damage:

a black cotton dress from american apparel. gah! i'm a hypocrite! i hate the owner of american apparel because he is a sexually assaulting public masturbating happy freak, but this dress was so cheap and so comfy. only turn off in the store is that the cashier was wear gold lame hotpants. well, what are you gonna do.

a blue print strapless dress from sugar britches in east atlanta village. it highlights my swimsuit tan nicely.

a red halter dress and a white dress (only $30!) from rene rene in little five points. my lord, i cannot recommend this boutique highly enough. it was the first time i'd been in there, and despite the fact that i was wearing what basically amounted to pajamas, was toting my laptop around and generally looked like a low-class shlub, the staff was gracious and helpful. they must have smelled my dress lust in the air. but seriously - the stuff in that store was GORGEOUS. great skirts, these beautiful wool sheath dresses for fall...sigh. it was like a dream. rene is an older, kind of kooky, flaming red haired lady, and she designs all the pieces by hand.

so, yeah. i'm a dress whore. what the fuck am i going to do with all these dresses? i don't really know. they're certainly not appropriate for work - unless i sling a cardigan over them, i guess - and it's not like i go to cocktail parties or similar events all that often. sigh. most likely i will just coo at them.

anyway, i recommend sugar britches, rene rene and pieces of adrene (the boutique where i got this dress) for your shopping needs. just beware. you might walk out in a daze carrying a dozen things you don't even remember buying.

wow, yesterday night was a SPECTACULAR evening. let me detail its events to you:

1. my italian tutor stood me up/forgot about our lesson

2. it was pouring rain like it can only pour rain it atlanta

3. this thunderstorm apparently caused all the traffic lights in all of atlanta to go out, which meant bumper to bumper gridlock as well as playing various games of chicken as i tried to dart my way through intersections where no one seemed to care that cars from the opposing lanes were trying to get through

4. i was desperately low on gas, so i made the grievous, grievous error of attempting to stop at the BP near my house, aka the Gas Station of Doom. i consider it a lucky trip to fill up the tank when a) i find a pump that is working b) i don't get hit up by some sketch dude for money to enable his multiple trips to the package store across the street. really, you need just exactly $3.89 to fill up the air in the tires of that car over there that you say is yours? funny how that's the same price as a small bottle of vodka.

5. the trip to the Gas Station of Doom was, in this case, a mistake. the two pumps i tried weren't working. well enough, i thought. let's try the chevron down the road.

6. the chevron down the road had eight swat cars with screaming sirens flashing on top of them in front of it. i guess there was some sort of bust going on there. i don't know. i didn't care. i was like, fuck this. i need me some gas and it is probably safer than it's ever been with all these police around. bring it, chevron!

7. no pumps at the chevron with the swat bust going on worked.

8. i drove to a gas station 10 minutes out of my way. it always looked bright and welcoming when i passed it on my way. i soon realized that this was a facade, as EACH OF THE TWELVE PUMPS had signs taped to them that said either "out of order!" or "no gas!" with cheery exclamation points. which, what the fuck. WHY DO YOU EVEN EXIST?!?

9. i drove to another gas station (my fourth attempt, NOT THAT I WAS COUNTING) even further out of the way. at this point i was dead on the inside. if this works, i thought mechanically, i will not kill anyone. if it doesn't work, i will kill everyone, and it will be pleasing.

10. hallelujah, it worked! nobody has to die! but as i stood there pumping the gas in the sketchy shadows of the sketchy gas station in the sketchy neighborhood, an incredibly scary looking hobo noticed me and rode up to me on his bike. (wtf? when did hobos get bikes? hobos on wheels. a weird occurrence.)

"excuse me, miss?" he called.

now, i have a policy of never giving money to panhandlers, but i always try to be polite about it and brush them off with a curt smile and a "no, i'm sorry." but this hobo was unlucky. he did not know i had just been on a trip through gas station purgatory. he did not know that i was on the verge of sticking a gas nozzle up somebody's ass.

"hey there, miss!" he called again.

i turned around with my arms crossed and looked him straight in the eye. i shook my head very slowly, and i growled, low, "no."

the hobo stopped his bike, said quickly, "ok, sorry miss! have a nice night!" turned around, and hightailed it out of there.

11. i came home to find the power semi-out - that is, the lights sort of work at a weird half dimness, but my alarm clock, my fan, and the internet are not working. but my laptop (and thank goodness, my ability to watch episodes of the wire) is fine. i don't understand why, but tommy told me it has something to do with hertzes. megahertzes? voltage? laptops? i don't understand.

12. THE WORST PART OF ALL: i have no beer in the house.

i swear to god, i take back all the complaining about d.c. not being a bike-friendly city, or everything negative i ever said about the el or the metro. they are shining examples of public transporation that can do no wrong and smell very nice and are perfect. where as driving can go suck a big one.

more perks (and their negatives) of working here:

one of the perks of the fellowship at cnn.com - besides the fact that, you know, i enormously enjoy my job - is that you get taken out from time to time to various dinners or activities. last night was the best so far - we got to go to a braves and phillies game at turner field, wher we hung out at the 755 club (whatever that is) and then got to watch the game from the owners box. where the seats were on the field. next to the dugout. and it was THE BEST THING EVER. i could have reached out and touched a baseball player's butt if i had wanted to. i took a crapload of photos that can be found here.

see? butt touching. coulda happened.

well, for all my bitching, atlanta has started to find ways to endear itself to me. a little bit. but not THAT much. but it was a pretty good weekend.

friday, beat after a week of a section launch and 10-12 hour workdays (but also margaritas and lots of fun in general), i stayed in and started watching season 1 of the wire that tommy burned for me ages ago. everybody i know loves this goddamned show, and dammit if i'm not going to try to get into it as well. and yes, so far, it's excellent. does anyone think it's a possibility that i could actually get through the first three seasons before the season four premiere on september 10? does anyone want to burn me seasons two and three? i think i can do it.

i had my first italian lesson tonight with giorgio. giorgio is fantastic because he is italian, he is milanese, and because he dislikes atlanta, and did you know how fun it is to bitch with someone in a foreign language about something you both dislike? it is MOLTO FUN. he is also fantastic because he is an aerospace engineer, and when we were chatting and i asked him where he thought he might work after finishing his phd, he said, you know, airbus, or, you know, nasa. then i asked, "vorresti costruire i razzi un giorno?", jokingly - would you like to build rockets someday? he said, very seriously, "si. forse." yes, maybe one day he would like to build the rockets. awesome.

so, you know, i spent the night chatting with an italian rocket builder. pretty sweet. it's also gratifying to know that my italian skills haven''t swirled down into the drain of my empty garbage disposal mind, but were merely lying dormant in a corner, like a sad ignored puppy that just wants to be petted. and wait till i give that puppy some beer. its italian will be GREAT.

short version of the weekend: driving past a great, old-timey krispy kreme sign on the way to my coworker's house friday night. moderate amounts of booze at house (curse you, driving). donuts from said krispy kreme suddenly appearing at coworker's house. me proceeding to eat 2 3/4 of said donuts. pool party. moderate amounts of margaritas at said pool party (curse you, driving!). running, and the continued battle between me wanting to be able to run and keeping my toenail. i know, it's gross.

i may as well include monday night in the weekend roundup, because even though it hasn't happened yet, i think it'll be pretty great. i'm going to dinner with mrs. gray and bubba at joel here in atlanta. this requires some prefacing. mrs. gray is, as many of you know, charles' mother, and is pretty much (along with the rest of charles' family, as crazy and hillybillyish as he keeps telling us the extended portion of the family is) the icing on the cake of having charles as a friend. imagine how generous, fun and laid-back charles is already, and add three more to that, and you have his parents and his sister. (also imagine how much charles likes to drink, and add three more to that, and the equation is pure awesomeness.) they're going to tuscany? why don't you come along! it's sunday? come over for dinner! christmas time? of course you're heading to their renowned christmas party. johanna is graduating in chicago and you're not remotely blood relations? they'll get you a hotel room and take you out for dinner and drinks! so on and so forth. and, of course, if they're in your town for business, they'll obviously be taking you out for a super nice dinner.

then there's bubba. how to describe.

i'm planning a visit for the next weekend, and i have a question for the more georgia-informed people out there: would it be worth it to make an overnight trip to athens? generally to see the nightlife and stay out and booze, etc. (especially considering in atlanta you have to drive everywhere and somebody ends up limiting themselves to about two drinks.) or would it be better to just take a day trip? or not go at all and do more stuff in atlanta? help!

yesterday evening i joined my coworker m. and a couple of his friends for a night full of georgie james and camera obscura at the earl in east atlanta. i was excited because 1) i haven't yet had a chance to catch georgie james, the toast of the d.c. blogosphere, live yet and 2) it was my first opportunity to observe atlanta hipsters in their natural environment.

things i like about working here: cutie canadian metrosexual and space/tech reporter da/ni/el sieb/erg was behind me this morning in line for starbucks. you may have seen him recently on cnn's coverage of the shuttle launch. the cashiers greeted him enthusiastically (apparently they are all good friends) and said they hadn't seen him in a while. he responded, "well, i've been on the road. that's the life of a correspondent, you know."

indeed. also, he smelled good.

i spent a big chunk of today at the atlanta botanical garden, which, while nice and pretty and full of adorable little children and a neat asian festival, did not really impress. i guess when the only other gardens you've seen are the boboli (with their sweetass giant bathtubs), the florence rose garden (with the duomo rising in the horizon) and the borghese park (with its kickass trees), it is tough to compare. anyway, if you're the kind of person who gets easily annoyed by endless streams of boring flower shots, then i most certainly would not click here.

i did see one fun thing while i was there, though. part of this random festival that was going on included lots of demonstrations of martial arts and dancing, etc. one was this totally boring sword-swinging routine of some sort. these dudes were swinging around their swords - not all that proficiently, i might add - but then came the awesome part. they cut off the tips of some stalks of bamboo that were stuck in the ground. woohoo. but then, they went absolutely fucking ballistic on the bamboo with their swords, shredding them to pieces. i don't know what the purpose of the whole demonstration was, but i thought it was hysterical.

yes, bamboo-shredding is now hilarious to me. and that fact is driving me back to d.c. next weekend. see you then.

actual words emitting from anchor lady's mouth: "next up: more on kim jong-il. some say he's just crazy; some say he's crazy like a fox. stay tuned."

in other news, tommy and the weather gods must be in touch, because after driving home last night from having drinks with the ex who's in town for business, my little dodge neon and i were nearly EFFING WASHED AWAY. seriously, there was a poorly-drained intersection where i swear to god, i actually started to feel my car float. it was scary. so i hereby, from my 10 days' worth of living experience, deem atlanta the goddamn rainiest city in the world. its slogan should be: "atlanta! you don't think of it as a rainy city, but you should. also, you'll drown."

i'm building an interactive july 4th quiz right now, and one of the questions from the text i'm working with is this:

The Declaration of Independence announced that the 13 colonies were breaking ties with what country?
France
England
Spain
Portugal

CNN: doubting the american public since 1980.

i've started keeping a list of things i'd like to do in atlanta over at my del.icio.us account - check it. if you've got any suggestions, please have at it. i feel like since my time in atlanta is rather compressed (three months) i want to get as much out of it as possible. i'm also spurred by the fact that in chicago i was like, oh! i have a whole year! i can do anything! and so i never really did anything that i meant to. and now i'm sad.

UPDATE: as a rather random aside, the atlanta zoo seems to have its own panda cam. ain't no butterstick, that's for sure.

i'm still here! in atlanta! and doing stuff! details below.

yay! i'm quoted in my second washington post article (and, as always, manage to sound ridiculously dumb). but boo! the article says i'm from atlanta! though i'm here now, i will always be from the d.c.

does anyone know of a free or relatively cheap running club (or marathon training group) in atlanta that preferably meets on saturday mornings to run and is preferably not atlanta-singles-running.org? that group actually looks like exactly what i am looking for (though their runs seem a little far out), but i do not run to meet singles and i am scared. i run for the pain. yeah.

a cool thing about work: generally, i feel like i'm working in the CTU offices on 24.

a few more cnn shots here.

it is now 12:30pm, and i've been at work for six and half hours. that's right: i pull the early shift at cnn.com, and let me tell you, it's a doozy. arriving to work by 6am is going to be, at least initially, much harder than i thought. though i was fast asleep by 10:30 last night with the trust of my handy sidekick named Extra-Large Dose of Nyquil, i am zombie lady today. three cups of coffee and a diet coke later, i am doing okay. the morning, with actual real work, has flown by; i get to leave in two hours! at which point i will go to the turner gym, which i've just joined, for my first workout in many moons. pray i don't pass out on the treadmill and get swallowed under.

anyway, i've been trying to take the positive spin on my work schedule. some upsides:

adrian grenier, whom i have an unexplainably huge crush on, was just on the cnn program american morning. does that film in new york? or does it film here? i DON'T EVEN KNOW. IS IT HERE IN ATLANTA? TELL ME!

UPDATE: i think it films in new york. of course. i'm sure celebrities aren't flying down to atlanta at the drop of a hat. bummer.

since all of cnn seems to operate entirely using IM, i've been obliged to create a new handle: CNNCatherine. i'll still use pablohoney on my laptop in the evenings, but during the day, i will be rocking the cnn name. so add me!

UPDATE: or CatherineOnMac. that's right, i've got two computers, one of which is a mac, which is good, cause it'll help me figure out if i really want to buy one or if they just drive me insane. so far it seems more of an insanity type thing, but that's mainly because i'm just not that good at using them yet.

i last left you in my fascinating tale of my weekend atlanta activities the night of the joys of spreading, catching and sharing disease. i mean, the joys of female faith. after escaping the traffic around the phillip's arena and the cnn building and checking out east atlanta the next morning, tommy and i discovered the joys of an establishment native only to atlanta: target.

Last week JP, Catherine and I were having a few beers and talking about places we'd lived. We enthusiastically agreed that Vermont was beautiful, Chicago was awesome and Montreal was cool. And eventually Catherine mentioned that she was about to move to Atlanta. JP said, "Oh."

"What? C'mon, it can't be that bad," one of us protested.

"No no, Atlanta's fine," JP continued. "It's just that it doesn't have any redeeming qualities."

Well, having just spent nearly 48 hours in the city, I now consider myself something of an Atlanta expert — or at least able to politely disagree.

Judging by when Orbitz left a voicemail for me, US Air decided sometime last night that my flight would be delayed by an hour — this wasn't the unforeseen pushing back a schedule, but rather a profound philosophical disagreement between USAir and myself about when the flight ought to take off. In a truly impressive display of meteorological synchronicity, this decision pushed takeoff smack into the middle of a newly-arrived thunderstorm. So I got to spend quite a bit of quality time on the ATL tarmac. That's when I wrote this, and tried (and failed) to publish it from my phone. It seemed like a good time to record my initial impressions of the city — if you can think of nice things to say when about a city you're sitting on one of its runways — wishing that you were merely an hour late and instead comforting yourself by shooting beams of pure hatred at the weather, control tower and anyone else passing by — well, then the nice things must be true.

I should get this out of the way first: Atlanta is kind of a freeway-choked hellscape. There's no getting around that. You have to drive to get anywhere. To some extent, I think the mark of genuine city-hood is how unnecessary cars are. By that score, Atlanta is a miserable failure, a gigantic suburb rather than an honest-to-god city. It's sort of like LA, only with an appropriate sense of embarrassed modesty.

But that's my only real complaint. You may have to drive to get anyplace, but once you get to that place, it tends to be pretty nice. Patronizing conceptions of the south notwithstanding, the area is considerably less choked with national franchises than you'd think. There are original stores, and bars, and restaurants -- more than you'd find in DC, at any rate. It's great.

It's an attractive city, too. I liked the skyline. I know my architecturally-inclined friends are recoiling in horror right now. "What is he thinking?" Kriston is yelling at his laptop. "Doesn't he realize the buildings don't look like the headquarters of a bank run by Darth Vader? And that they don't all look exactly the same?!"

Well, to be honest, I do realize those things. But the extent of my architectural phillistinism really can't be overstated: staring at the Coca-Cola building and noticing that it seemed a little drab, I joked to myself, "Why don't they just make it look like a giant bottle of Coke? Hahaha." Then, a moment later, I thought, "Hmmm.... That might not be that bad." See what I mean?

Finally, to slip back into the aforementioned patronizing conception of the south, the residents' sense of hospitality has to be factored into any judgment. Everyone was extremely sweet and helpful -- first and foremost among them Catherine's new landlord, Jeannie, who patiently drew lots of excellent and much-needed maps for us, and even went so far as to make dinner reservations on our behalf. Hell, even random neighbors at the bars were friendly, pleasantly introducing themselves and unselfishly sharing tales of martial animal cuteness (which I'm sure Catherine will regale you with later). And Catherine reports that, while I was fetching the car, the gentlemen at the bar proved to be quite friendly, too. It's because they're so hospitable, you see.

Anyway, that's the verdict: it's too hot and has way too many cars, but otherwise Atlanta seems perfectly nice. Although I have to say that the charms of its runways did begin to wear a little thin after an hour or so. And sweet tea remains completely unfit for human consumption.

allow me to take you on a step-by-step journey of my amazing atlantian adventures this past weekend. it is a magical land of SUVs and super walmarts, of crowded interstates and warm biscuits, of wicked thunderstorms and creeping moss hanging over brick verandas. it's weird, but it's nice. it's THE SOUTH.

sorry for the dearth on my part for the past few days - they've been doozies. sunday my dad and i flew into chicago at 7am, spent the entire day packing, and fell asleep at like 8pm. monday we packed up the truck (with the assistance of the lovely kevin) then drove six hours and spent the night at a quality inn in richfield, OH. (our thoughts, summed up the morning after - catherine: "quality inn maybe isn't the best name for that place." dad: "yeah. the quality part should be in air quotes.") the next morning we arose at 5am, drove drove drove, and got to my parents' house at 1pm, where we promptly unloaded the truck and collapsed in a heap.

anyway, tommy and i head down to fine, fine atlanta on friday at 6am, and i need your help! can you recommend me the following:

-things to listen to in the car (podcasts, new albums, books on tape)
-fun games to play in the car besides tommy's and my standard one of "roadkill!"
-a nice restaurant in atlanta to eat at on saturday night. not, like, SUPER NICE AND FANCY, but something cute and good.
-a yum barbeque place in atlanta to eat lunch at
-a bar that doesn't make me want to shoot myself in the head

do i even have any atlanta readers out there? i know i had a few chicago readers when i started out in that town that were quite helpful...but in any case, everyone can help out with the car activity listening stuff!