A group of our students on this trip half-seriously call themselves “The Dream Team.” They are a group of four students who would do the ultimate story, except four students never work together on a story, so they can never really be “The Dream Team.” The video above is an informational one about how great they are. My horrible patchy facial hair and I make an appearance.
Here is the story my group (Paige and Paulina) slaved and stressed over (we had an interview deleted by someone and they had to wait a full day to get another interview with the same guy). It’s a fun little story about henna tattoos, which a surprising amount of our students decided to get while in Panama City Beach. I guess they want to shock their parents.
We made it to Charleston yesterday evening (after ten hours of driving, and experiencing the least comfortable naps of my life) . When I opened my suitcase, I realized that I had done a horrible thing: I hastily tossed my swim suits and towel into the main portion of my suitcase the morning we left the beach, and now all of my clothes smelled like Poseidon’s sweaty gym socks, after being microwaved a few times. I’ve since found several methods to neutralize the smell (I think). (Big thanks to the people who provided vanilla spray, Fabreeze, and a washing machine. And to Nick Nutting, who made my clothes smell amazing by comparison–Nick put all of his wet-with-the-stench-of-the-sea clothes in a single zip-lock bag, and the smell that was created is the worst thing my nose has consumed in recent memory. It was seriously like raw sewage, but stronger, like it had attitude, or was mixed with burning flesh and hair.)
The same Nick, my team’s photographer, and I have been scrambling to find a story for today. And I think we’ve got a good one. But I’ll let you know when it happens.