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The Peluso entry was getting too long so I divided the cheese stuff from the non-cheese. On the way to Maine, we stopped in Boston so I could meet my longest term unmet LJ friend, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
slit. As per the groundrules, no pictures will be posted of this historic event. All I can say is that I was really sad I couldn’t stay longer . Unfortunately, Sheana had to get to a meeting in Maine, so this was the one time-sensitive part of our entire trip. I did leave a piece of Great Hill Blue for her hubby. I like Slit lots despite her non-love of something so important to me as cheese.
As I mentioned in the last entry, I useanimikwaan to tell me what I should know about Maine. She lived in Rocklin, which was where we ended up spending the night, and all I can say is, I can’t believe she moved there after growing up in Florida. Talk about culture shock.
I couldn’t find the "famous" hot dog stand she told me to go to so I had to satisfy myself with getting my picture taken with the World’s Biggest Lobster.
This was right outside our motel room where we got a wonderful off-season deal on a room with a slightly obstructed view of the ocean. I told people that I was totally content to just sit there and watch the Atlantic Ocean sunset and yes, it was pointed out that I didn’t actually see the sun set, being on the East Coast. But you know what I mean.
Despite having more than a full helping of California pride, I will fully admit that coastal Maine is much prettier than the Central Valley. Lookout! It’s the Atlantic Ocean!
We hit the two open bars that off-season Rocklin had to offer. One was off the main path and obviously a locals bar. Half the folks there were behind the bar eating pizza when we walked in . Later they moved to singing along with bad ‘80s songs on the jukebox. We drank our beer and I tried not to do anything that would get my ass kicked. They took a liking to us, or our tipping, though because when we left they asked apologetically if it was their singing. "No," we replied, "We just have to see all of Rocklin in one night so we couldn’t spend too long in any one place." The other bar was a big restaurant/Irish bar that honestly could have been almost anywhere so I was sad we didn’t stay with the bad singers.
The only other notable Maine moment was the slightly punk rock teen counter girl at one place we stopped. She had normal hair and was dressed for work but she made sure we saw her freak flags, brushing her shirt so we saw she had a tattoo and studded belt. Awwwwww. Small town punks are so cute. If we had been doing anything punk on this trip I would have wanted to take her with us.
slit. As per the groundrules, no pictures will be posted of this historic event. All I can say is that I was really sad I couldn’t stay longer . Unfortunately, Sheana had to get to a meeting in Maine, so this was the one time-sensitive part of our entire trip. I did leave a piece of Great Hill Blue for her hubby. I like Slit lots despite her non-love of something so important to me as cheese. As I mentioned in the last entry, I use
animikwaan to tell me what I should know about Maine. She lived in Rocklin, which was where we ended up spending the night, and all I can say is, I can’t believe she moved there after growing up in Florida. Talk about culture shock.I couldn’t find the "famous" hot dog stand she told me to go to so I had to satisfy myself with getting my picture taken with the World’s Biggest Lobster.
This was right outside our motel room where we got a wonderful off-season deal on a room with a slightly obstructed view of the ocean. I told people that I was totally content to just sit there and watch the Atlantic Ocean sunset and yes, it was pointed out that I didn’t actually see the sun set, being on the East Coast. But you know what I mean.
Despite having more than a full helping of California pride, I will fully admit that coastal Maine is much prettier than the Central Valley. Lookout! It’s the Atlantic Ocean!
We hit the two open bars that off-season Rocklin had to offer. One was off the main path and obviously a locals bar. Half the folks there were behind the bar eating pizza when we walked in . Later they moved to singing along with bad ‘80s songs on the jukebox. We drank our beer and I tried not to do anything that would get my ass kicked. They took a liking to us, or our tipping, though because when we left they asked apologetically if it was their singing. "No," we replied, "We just have to see all of Rocklin in one night so we couldn’t spend too long in any one place." The other bar was a big restaurant/Irish bar that honestly could have been almost anywhere so I was sad we didn’t stay with the bad singers.
The only other notable Maine moment was the slightly punk rock teen counter girl at one place we stopped. She had normal hair and was dressed for work but she made sure we saw her freak flags, brushing her shirt so we saw she had a tattoo and studded belt. Awwwwww. Small town punks are so cute. If we had been doing anything punk on this trip I would have wanted to take her with us.
