So, Alaska, it is time to bid you adieu.  You have shattered my preconceptions about bears and igloos and natives, taught me what cold really means, and showed me how weird isolated mountain towns truly can be.

I love you, Alaska, for all your zaniness.  Yes, despite your lack of a decent watering hole, 7 months of absolutely unbearable weather, piss-poor job market, unbelievable amounts of homeless people, pot holes so deep I can see Kangaroos, and seriously shitty local bands, I loved you in my own way.

Here is a list the hubs and I wrote, slightly modified:
 
Best pancakes...Flo's Pancake House on Muldoon.  Whether you're hungover on a Sunday morning,  or shamming out of work on a weekday, Flo's has really cheap food, great coffee, and pancakes and gravy that are likely laced with some kind of addictive substance. I can't get enough.  Don't let the bullet holes in the windows fool you.

Best dive bar...Polar bar.  This place is empty on a Saturday night, except for a couple of old drunks who occasionally fight over stolen jackets.  Cheap pitchers, a juke box, shuffle board, pool, darts, and a microwave on a table for some reason.  Take out your whole platoon or your whole wedding party, there'll be plenty of elbow room for all.

Best sushi...Samurai Sushi.  Instead of trying all the sushi spots  in Anchorage, I just asked a Japanese friend, and he sent me to Samurai.  A variety of artistic and untraditional rolls, along with very enthusiastic goodbyes (I once had every staff member say good bye to me, it was creepy).

Creepiest grocery store...Carr's on 13th and Gambell.  First of all, it's situated next to a police substation, with some sort of gay night club mural painted on the side.  Secondly, I've never seen more unsavory characters gathered under a no loitering sign.  Thirdly, the interior makes no sense, and will have you wandering around their mile-long aisles for hours looking for beans.  And lastly, the liquor store man wears a creepy hat and horn-rimmed glasses and talks too much, often complaining openly about the homeless.

Best beer...Snow goose.  All the Alaskan microbrews you can ask for, plus a staggering array of imported beer, many of which are made by Belgian Monks.  The beer menu is thicker than the food menu.  And the food ain't bad either.  Great view too.  Okay, I love this place.  Seriously.

Best cab driver...I don't know your name, but you did show me pictures of your "daughter" and her hot "friends," and bragged about your superior breeding.  Coincidentally you're an amatuer author, writing about the good old days of San Francisco.  I've also seen you at the Alaska Club, spending twenty minutes on the bicep curl machine without lifting anything. 

Best animal...the raven.  Only in Alaska do two foot tall monsters pick through your dumpsters in -20 degree weather.  I've also read that you can mimic other animal noises (like pigs!? Seriously, I thought there was a pig on my roof, dude.  Knock that shit off.) and that you can steal prey from an eagle in aerial combat.  Thank you for not eating my cat off my balcony. 

Best stripper...Onyx.  Girl, you worked harder than anyone else at the Bush Company, and perhaps made the least money the night I was there (damn racists).  Without even a pole, you could stand on your head and swing your naked legs gracefully around your torso without losing your balance or dignity.  Kudos.

Best coffee hut...In the dirt lot on the corner of Fireweed and Spenard lies a bright orange trailer that sells Raven's Brew.  Sure it's just Raven's Brew, but when that bitch tells you to have a good day, you actually have a good day.  I've never met anyone perkier before 8am.

Best park...Kincaid park.  Great views of Sustina, open fields for frisbee, a network of trails to walk or ski, and a little club-house to warm up and admire the disinterested staff make this the best kept secret in Anchorage.  You can't find it on any maps that I've seen, except google maps.  But it's at the west end of Raspberry Road.  In your face Flat-top.

Worst place I ever spent the night...Soldatna.  With thirty-seven places to play "pull-tab" (whatever that means) and only one place to get a burger (served in the traditional fashion by a pregnant minor), you suck.

Worst food establishment...Black Angus Inn.  Coincidentally, it's also on the corner of 13th and Gambell.  I walked in for approximately 5 seconds before turning around and going straight to my car (surprisingly without getting stabbed).  Maybe it was the dozen or so grizzly men passed out on the bar, maybe it was the plastic seating still covered in steak sauce (I hope), or maybe the grizzly women outside by the entrance smoking, but something triggered my fight or flight response.  Thank God.

Worst barber...ever!!!...on Old Seward Highway, next to the windshield repair garage.  He was about 80 years old, and wouldn't stop babbling about how he watched Anchorage spring up from a lowly gold mining camp into a thriving city.  He was so engrossed in speech, he actually hit Alan in the head with the buzzer, and forgot to cut a whole side of his head.  But with proper coaching technique and patience, we managed to make it out of there alive, with a halfway decent haircut.  And he was either so guilty or senile that he didn't charge me. 


So there's my list, should any of you ever venture up here (save your money).    Louisiana will be zany, I'm sure, but I don't know if anything will ever compare with Alaska.

Always,
Amy No-Seriously-Save-Your-Money-and-Go-to-the-Bahamas Stephenson