A visiting friend once compared Charleston to Disneyland. (And really Disneyland should be compared to Charleston, but that's another story) Yet, even south of Broad Street, power lines weave through the steeples and turrets and live oaks. There is something beautiful about them. They keep us real.
I spent my the morning of my birthday camped out at Tim and Elise's—quite possibly my favorite place in Charleston. It's a third story with painted red floors, sky lights, and dreamy treehouse rooms.
We drank breakfast vino verde, baked a crisp, and read magazines. Perfect.
Blake and I had a birthday party. It was quite possibly the best party I've ever thrown. Things got funky. We danced and DANCED. Blake took a champagne shower. There were TWO ROUNDS OF LIMBO. With all the stomping and woohooo-ing we nearly brought the house down.
The next morning there were balloons in the trees down the block and the floors were oh so sticky. There's really nothing better.