Hope Springs Eternal

Today marks five years since Hurricane Katrina ravaged the Gulf Coast and displaced thousands of families from their homes.

I could use this space to lament that recovery and rebuilding has been slow, or that the Gulf Coast has been stricken yet again with the BP oil disaster, or that figures such as the mortality rate could have been lower, had the government been more expedient in providing the aid the region so desperately needed.

I've done my fair share of lamenting over the years, and so have many others—as is evident by the discussions and interviews that took place on news shows and specials this weekend.

But despite all the problems that stemmed from Katrina, as well as the difficulties that still exist today, there are still some positives that can be taken away from the past five years:

* The stories of the people displaced by Katrina are so inspiring. I cannot fathom going through something of this magnitude, and it's uplifting to see how people managed to triumph after all their struggles. So many people were forced to flee their homes, and while some have returned, many have started new lives in new locations, having started completely from scratch.

Seeing the conditions that people endured, and reading the stories of the adversity that they faced really helps to put my own life in perspective, too. The things that I complain about pale in comparison to situations and plights that other families have faced, and continue to face on a daily basis.

I don't mean to diminish the magnitude of anything I've experienced (those events and feelings are important and consequential in their own way), but rather to remind myself that I could have it a lot worse.

* There is much to be admired and appreciated about the citizens of America. This thought makes me hark back to September 11, when I felt a very similar sentiment upon seeing the outpouring of support for the victims.

So much of the rebuilding in the Gulf Coast has come at the hands of the public. There have been umpteenth church groups, sports teams, clubs, and other organizations who have planned trips to the region to help rebuild.

As someone who has participated in one of these trips, I can vouch for how immensely rewarding it is, not just to help contribute to the area's recovery, but to witness firsthand the spirit and strength of the people there.

* The beautiful, vivacious, and distinct culture of New Orleans is stronger than ever. There's a unity amongst the people that continues to be fueled by events such as the Saints' Super Bowl win. Its citizens are devoted to restoring the area and have so much hope for the future of the Gulf Coast.

The region continues to thrive and expand, with Teach for America receiving thousands of applications for the New Orleans region, and the number of students applying to Tulane University growing annually.

And the things that make New Orleans so unique—the jazz music, the food, and the culture, to name a few—are once again establishing themselves as important components of the city, providing familiarity and comfort to its residents.

For those who have never had the privilege to travel to the region, try to take a trip when you can. You won't regret it.

Globes and Maps Are All Around Me Now

Over the past few years, there's been a growing dependency on GPS's. Most people, when driving to an unfamiliar destination, will plug in the GPS and go.

I find myself generally unable to operate in this manner. In fact, in the years of driving I've done with a GPS, I've only ever used it as either a backup to the directions I already had, or to bail me out when I made an error/was forced into a detour/got horrendously lost.

This past weekend, for example, I did a fair amount of driving (though a little less than I expected). Because there were so many different venues crammed into a weekend, I made a list of the excursions I would likely be making, and used Google Maps to provide me with directions. When I hit the road on Friday afternoon, I had about six different sets of directions printed out and crammed in my purse.

I know a GPS shouting directions at me is probably safer than frequent glances at a piece of paper, but I much prefer the latter method.

I don't like fidgeting with a GPS while driving—I'd argue that doing so is exponentially more dangerous than holding a piece of paper in one hand and the steering wheel in the other.

I hate the repetitiveness of a GPS, too, as it announces your upcoming turn/exit several times, sometimes even after you've taken it. Please shut up and let me listen to my music in peace.

But in getting directions online, I'm able to familiarize myself with the route I'll be taking, at least on a general level. I like being prepared whenever possible, and when driving, that means having a general awareness of the highways and roads on which I'll be traveling.

I've always been really good with directions, too—directions just make sense to me, and I have somewhat of a natural instinct in finding my way on the road. Plus, I process everything I pass, making return or reverse trips a relatively effortless endeavor.

So with a combination of my memory/inherent ease at navigation and the directional overview Google Maps has given me, I don't often even need directions to come home.

Unless, of course, I get lost.

Plus, Google Maps lets me play around with alternate routing in a way that is much easier than on a GPS. I get to see the different options I can take, the mileage for each one, and the additional travel time that's likely to occur in traffic. When driving down to Ocean City a few weeks back, for instance, I avoided the Garden State Parkway, which I knew would be extremely backed up on a Friday afternoon. Instead, I played around a bit and found a route that was only six minutes longer, two miles lengthier, and not at all difficult to navigate.

I will say, however, that a GPS would be incredibly useful if I were to move somewhere new, or even travel in an area that's unfamiliar to me.

Back when I was in Arizona, for example, much of our traveling was done via GPS, although during the time we were in town, I managed to familiarize myself with a map of downtown Scottsdale and provide a verbal navigation to whomever was driving.

But it's a nice thing to have if you don't have internet access or the time to sit down, fiddle around, and print out the sets of directions you might need. Plus, some people are crazy enough to be spontaneous, so I imagine a GPS helps immensely when making a sudden decision to travel to x location.

Like I said, I'm sure most people will disagree. But I'll stick to having the GPS serve as my safety blanket.

Meet Me Tonight in Atlantic City

While a majority of my weekend in Ocean City was low-key, my friends and I did take a break from all the relaxation to have a nice dinner in Atlantic City, which is about a half hour north of where we were.

This was my first time in Atlantic City; while I'd always seen potential in certain places (such as the Borgata, which often hosts some excellent entertainment), I wasn't dying to get out there and explore. It was my impression that the somewhat trashy nightlife and gambling scene far overshadows any unique things the city might offer.

Now that I've been, I can safely say that my opinion is unchanged. Watching people stumble around casinos in hemlines and heels best left on street corners is decidedly not fun.

We ate dinner in Caesar's, at a restaurant named Mia. The staff was incredibly jovial and our waiter, in particular, didn't at all make me feel uncomfortable when I asked several questions about some of the menu items.

I spent about five minutes vacillating between two types of pasta, before deciding on the mozzarella ravioli, without the mushroom garnish. It was delicious. Ravioli is primarily stuffed with ricotta (a great cheese, to be sure, but it's no mozzarella), so I loved the different approach.

One of the things I like about dining with people is the opportunity to sample other dishes. Two of my friends ordered the other pasta dish I'd wanted (cavatelli, minus the pancetta). Another friend ordered the chicken, an option I'd also briefly entertained. I sampled both and they were both delicious, so if I ever return here, ordering certainly won't be any easier.

The restaurant itself was elegantly furnished, complete with ambient lighting. I was a little surprised to see two flat screen televisions above the bar; they seemed a little out of place, given the décor and environment.

After dinner, we walked through Caesar's and took in the wide variety of people that surrounded us. We also paused to stare at (and photograph) the humungous statue of Julius Caesar that stands adjacent to Mia.

Mia proves that, as I expected, there are glimmers of greatness in Atlantic City. Great food aside, though, there's little reason for me to return.

I Dig My Toes into the Sand

I'm not particularly a beach person. I get restless doing nothing but sitting out in the sun all day, even when I have good music or a book to keep me company. I can do it every once in a while, but unlike most, I never desire a big day in the sun; I'm perfectly content with there being a couple of years in between my beach visits.

Also, I'm generally disgusted by most things that come out of the ocean, from crabs to jellyfish, so I'm in no rush to immerse myself in them.

That said, I like the environment of the beach. In the middle of an extremely hot summer (much like the one we're having now), the temperature is always cooler by the shore. And while I'm not very good at laying out and baking all day, I do love strolling along the beach—and I mean that in the least maudlin way possible. I love beach houses, too; their simplistic decor makes them all seem so clean and fresh and summery.

I think I'd love to own a house or apartment on the beach some day; I'd be able to enjoy the ocean at dawn and dusk (the best times, if you ask me), take long, non-romantic walks on the beach, and enjoy possessing and furnishing a beach residence. But I wouldn't have to deal with the crowds and full-fledged "beach experience" unless I wanted to. Sounds like a great deal to me.

But I digress.

I spent this past weekend in Ocean City, New Jersey, where I'd never been before—my experience with New Jersey beach towns hadn't extended beyond Long Beach Island (which I love).

While about four hours of Saturday morning and afternoon consisted of the typical beach sit, being in the company of four of my closest friends made it incredibly enjoyable. The weather was perfect, too.

I got some reading done, did a little people watching, and took a nice, lengthy walk along the shoreline (on which I almost stepped on a dead jellyfish).

I did get a sun headache, though, which served as a small reminder as to why I sometimes get annoyed at extended periods of beach time. It was a fantastic afternoon overall, though.

We spent a portion of the following day on the boardwalk, which is similar to just about every other boardwalk out there, but was fun nevertheless.

Ocean City's familial atmosphere is akin to that which is found on LBI, and is the kind of environment I prefer. Yes, sometimes kids can be annoying (we witnessed a particularly horrible mother-son combination outside of one of the Mack and Manco's), but I much prefer hordes of families to the trashy, dirty, and sleazy beaches (and people) that are also prevalent down the New Jersey coastline. Ocean City is also a dry town, which means you're less likely to encounter the partying types, who are probably more comfortable in places such as Seaside (or, incidentally, Ocean City, Maryland).

Ocean City, New Jersey, I like you.