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February 25, 2014

Nighty night.

Monday’s over. I’m still feeling a bit used up, but that’s on its way to remedying itself; aside from the fact the Disturbance In The Force has gone on long enough, I simply don’t have time for it. The work schedule for the next seven days is a doozy, contains several double-shifts and the numbers we’ll be tending to are through the roof. It’s an incredibly busy time at the restaurant/bar, starting with The Wednesday, as we refer to it here. When referring to the days leading to Mardi Gras (this year the 4th of March), we don’t even bother saying “The Wednesday Before”. It’s just the Wednesday, the Thursday, the Friday, etc.

I have yet to plan any travel for the year and I swear it’s making me antsy. I was comparing travel notes with a friend the other night, telling her how I’m mean to continue my annual goal of Five New Cities this year, even with the move. She indicated she’d rather know one place well rather than five in a more cursory manner; I know that’s what many prefer, but I guess I’m just World-Hungry.

What’s slowing me down is the sheer number of happenings in my new city which I’ve never experienced before: Carnival/Mardi Gras, French Quarter Fest, Jazz Fest, etc.; there’s a space of 11 days in April between FQfest and Jazz Fest where I might be able to sneak away. Since I’m not starting the travel until we’re 1/4 of our way into the year, these will have to be longer, more robust trips, which is fine. Bring on the carryon suitcase, the black clothing and the scarves; I’m ready.

For now though, I’m focusing on the days leading up to Mardi Gras. I wandered the CBD this afternoon with some girlfriends, and at one point I caught a reflection of myself in a window: a woman with a big smile, wearing pink glitter Sperrys and carrying a pair of bronze wings. Just a regular Monday afternoon in New Orleans, and a lady with a plan.

Snippets and Fragments

February 20, 2014

Image

I believe:

  • that love, in all its complex little variants, finds you when it is good and ready. And then hits you over the head in the nicest way possible. 
  • that people can and do, in fact, change – when they’re truly ready to.
  • that I may never be able to hear “I’ll Fly Away” without tearing up. Miss you, Ma. 

[John Boutté’s version of I’ll Fly Away]