Frollick-tober and Go-vember

When I was a kid and we had a super awesome Apple II GS, we used the big giant 8" floppy disk to play Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?. It came with a world almanac - like, a book made of paper. Paper! And you had to look up which countries used rupees to determine where that wily Carmen had gone to and nab her on behalf of Interpol. There was no currency exchanged (unless you count trading cookies for hugs) and no embassies had to be applied to, but I did make some tracks the last couple of months.

I was spotted at Mountain Day in early October way up in the hills of Georgia at my alma mater, Berry College. The local cuisine included fried chicken, Dillon-baked chocolate chip cookies and homemade barbecue. Accomplices included several below-three-foot individuals, included those pictured below. Clearly the hat is an attempt at a disguise - but you can't hide that cuteness.

I was then seen heading west into the mountains of North Carolina for the Valle Crucis Fair. It was the kind of crowd you could blend into. Unless, of course, your party included more than one 6-foot-plus man, two toddlers in matching orange coats and a set of twins dressed as pink and blue fuzzy bears. So much for incognito. Traces of the local flora might've been found in my wake since I romped through the hills taking photos.

And then I headed to the eastern part of North Carolina, back to Wilmington, a place I was known to frequent. Spotted at all my old haunts - Grace Street, Deluxe, Wrightsville Beach - I might've been easy to track down. Except, in this case, I actually did pull off a disguise - Shirley Manson for my friend Scott's 40th birthday party.

This old house used to be my house.

This Stupid Girl is Only Happy When it Rains

Still on my tail? You could've found it right where you might most - or least - expect it depending on how well you know me. You might expect that any good Athenian would be found cheering on the hairy dawgs on any given Saturday in October. But the truth is, it was only my second tailgate. With a morning mimosa and a blissfully sunny day in the company of some glamorous cohorts, I relaxed and could've been easily nabbed lolling in the quad beside Memorial Hall.

The incomparable Joneser and Schubert

I didn't stay put long. Back on the road and down (way, way down) I-16 to Savannah. I was on a mission. Transferring some goods at the behest of a client. And while I wasn't to be found on gadding about town, I did manage a clandestine meeting with a good friend who might've been willing to divulge my whereabouts in a little diner on Skidaway Island.

The goods

I was closing in on the end of the great Frollick-tober/Go-vember caper. And what better way to end it than where I started - in the mountains of northwest Georgia with my small accomplices? This time, we were at my sister's house for Thanksgiving. I spoke the language of the natives - giggles. You might've spied me stuffing with stuffing and turkey and sweet potato casserole and deviled eggs. And lest you think I was working alone, I was definitely working under the orders of a tiny dictator - he calls the shots.

Little Napolean

I think she knows the authorities are closing in.

Now I'm relegated back to the couch and my newly acquired Twilight DVD collection (thanks, Target Black Friday Doorbuster!). Me and my tiny henchman and array of colorful accomplices are resting up. But don't worry - this ringleader will be at it again before long, deck the halls and fa-la-la-la and ho ho ho. Christmas capers coming soon.