Relocating
to New Orleans wasn't a hard decision for me. It is the closest I can
get to Europe in America, it’s in the South, and it’s close to a lot of
water. Check, check, and check. My boyfriend, Aaron, and I sold all of
our stuff, loaded up my Volvo station wagon national lampoons vacation
style with our English Pointer, Roscoe, and departed from Winston-Salem,
NC, buckling in for a treacherously insane 15 hour drive. The tire
almost ripped, the car almost overheated, and Alabama is mighty boring,
but we made it to our hotel on the outskirts of New Orleans right after
sunset.
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