Leo and Jen: A Blog

A family in Raleigh, NC and random things they do

Author: Jennifer Suarez

  • In Case of Disaster, Please Read

    Some people believe the apocalypse is coming in 2012. Let’s hope not. But if it does, rest assured, we have a guide to rebuild society. (If there are any of us left.) The Georgia Guidestones. Wired Magazine referred to them as “America’s Stonehenge,” but that they are not. The six granite slabs are each 16…

  • Finding My Inner Kermit

    I have had two old license plates sitting in my trunk for months. Ok, years. Illinois – 2005. Tennessee – 2007. My boyfriend recently added an NC-2009 plate to that pile.  And when my sister moved here last week, she handed me one from Texas. Time to recycle some metal! I hated to throw those…

  • A Reckless Deadline

    My 20s are almost behind me, with one year to go. According to my bff in her birthday card to me, we have exactly one year of recklessness remaining. Well, not recklessness. But the recklessness that can be later written off with a dash of devil-may-care-I-was-in-my-20s-so-it-was-justified. So what should I do for this requisite recklessness?…

  • A Capitol Idea

    While walking around good ole downtown Raleigh recently, Leo came up with a brilliant idea: Wouldn’t it be cool to visit all 50 capitals? Sign me up. So here is the plan: As we take road trips together during the next 50 years, we will visit every state’s Capitol. Raleigh, of course, is easy. We…

  • Winter Escape

    Cold wind gushed along the sand, making a sieve out of my jacket. I smiled. Leo’s parents have a house at Carolina Beach, so we go fairly often. But I almost prefer the beach in the winter, when the sand and sea have a desolate, lonely look. No one is there as you walk along…

  • Washington

    The cold enormity of President Lincoln sat before me, a marble cast reminder of how insignificant my life really is compared to those who would take incredible risks and achieve greatness. But the laughter of those around me seemed to take away from the weight of his words etched into the wall.