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a rocky entrance and a dark wet tunnel

I drove to Baton Rouge this weekend, and it was a pretty decent drive, considering my A/C is messed up.  I drove with the windows down the whole way, I rather prefer it that way actually (Freya does not).  I snuck out early and left my dissertation introduction draft on my desk, to beat the crowd at the ferry, and beat it I did, wow.  I was tempted to stop and find a cache or two on the way but I was making too good of time.  Went out and saw the only one of my old friends still living in BR, we went over to chimes street to have some beers.  Holy canoli that entire area of town is almost  completely different from what it was just a few years ago.  It's horrible.  They're putting droves of $1000/month student apartments in there -- what college students can afford that shit?  Anyway, my grandparents came over Sat for lunch and then we went out to dinner for my mother's birthday, and I talked to my mother's boyfriend about how when he travels he likes to stay at catholic monasteries instead of motels.  I would like to do that once, it looks fun, but he's a church-type and I'm not so I might feel out of place in their hospitality.  We got my mother a professional-model Kitchen-aid mixer to match her kitchen paint (she cooks a lot).  I took her old one.

Just before I left town Sunday I stopped by The Temple, which is a storm sewer on my side of town that when I was in middle and high school, my gang and I occupied.  I hadn't been there in years and years, but I took my dog there and walked about halfway in, and placed a microcache in the rubble.  It was one of the things I want