the last days of freelancing

Tonight I need to do a serious amount of writing. Like "making maps and using excessive post it notes" writing. I start my new job in about two weeks and I want this current writing project out of my life before heading to New Orleans next Tuesday morning.

More importantly, I'm just ready to leave behind this current chapter of my professional life and start the next one. I will fact-check this week and finish the writing project. In the meanwhile, there will be a small dinner party chez moi thrown by Nerb, potential trips to the Met, visiting with RJ, a dinner w/ T's advisor and his wife, party for Ms. Scheier and that ever important laundry run on Saturday morning.

I also want plenty of time to read and get better. I have some kind of weird allergy/cold thing happening that isn't entirely pleasant.

I should blog about reunion 2005, but that is a whole other undertaking. Something that should and will be written about as soon as I've finished the writing for which I get paid.

this is it

The wait is over. I got the job. All is well in the world and I'll be using my brain at full-capacity. Life is sweet. I'm at Bryn Mawr at my 5 year reunion living it up. More from NYC. I'm too busy celebrating.

Chasing my ghosts

Last night I went to Crif Dogs on St. Mark's Place with Lady H. They have corn dogs and tater tots. I am glad its not too close to my apartment, especially since they have a variety of hot dogs wrapped in bacon. Near the entrance they have a Ms. Pac-Man machine which you can play for a quarter. I hadn't played a video game in a while and never considered myself to be very good at them. That night, however, I was amazing. I racked up unbelievable scores, beating the video record each consecutive time. People were not gathering around me cheering as the sweat dripped down my brow, but it was a mini-victory for me. Part of the game for those who don't recall is eating a magic pellet and then chasing ghosts head-on instead of running away. This is mostly how I racked up the score. It may sound trite (it may sound trite to say it's trite), but I need to find a way to chase my own "ghosts" offscreen. Maybe I am stronger now and don't even know it. I need to stop being afraid.

It's Memorial Day. People are headed to fire island. It's Fleet Week. It's a three day weekend. It's a time when I could easily vanish into the city fleeing my ghosts and becoming one myself...avoiding my future, avoiding decision. Instead, I'd like to use it as an opportunity to become more grounded and face my problems. It will start with a run, a little more literal, then I plan to write a graduate school application. I am not sure who will end up biting whom, but It will be interesting to see where I end up "early next week" much like the other crazy 8. Wherever it is though, I will check back to write a post.

Have a great holiday weekend.

anxiety? we haven't met.

yesterday i wondered how i would make it to "early next week" without biting down all my fingernails, breaking out, losing hair, etc.

But today, everything is really mellow. I don't know how I escaped this nasty beast. I had a great dinner last night with T, RJ and K. We talked, laughed and just enjoyed being together. I wrote my thank you note and dropped it in the mail on the way home. Miraculously, T and I caught a M86 as soon as we made it to the busstop and within a couple minutes of getting off at 86th and Broadway, the M104 lumbered up to the curb! YAY: no $13 cab ride! So we made it home in good time and crashed. I got a solid 8 hrs of sleep and mosied my way way down Broadway this morning. I picked up a banana and croissant for breakfast and got a bunch of radishes at the Farmer's Market on Broadway. I stopped in Oren's for an iced coffee and hopped on the 1/9 at 110th.

Work is really low key today. I polished off a story that should have been easy, but you know fashion writers... Anyway, I made them look good. That's all that matters. I've been looking up train times for tomorrow's big trip back to the Mawr. I also mentally packed my bag and made dinner. It'll be a no-brainer tonight and I can polish off my book of Wendy Wasserstein plays before meeting D and RiRi in Penn Station tomorrow morning.

I've been listening to the mix cd Lexie made me two years ago. She included "Walk Through the Fire": Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I loved the musical episode in season 6. It's the best. I don't care what anyone says. You know, it's odd. I have no envie whatsoever to catch a musical on Broadway no matter how great everyone says it is ("Wicked"). And I have nothing to do with Fred Astaire (sorry, RJ...). But I love the Buffy musical episode and I loved Woody Allen's "Everyone Says I Love You." I think I like the spirit of amateur musicals. The rough around the edges aspect to it. I find super-polished voices grating when I am watching a musical. It's already unreal that people are singing in a movie, so why make it even less real? There's something endearing about watching people who wouldn't otherwise sing, break into song. That's what made that Buffy episode so fantastic: the plot centered around tapping into your deepest feelings and being incapable of suppressing the urge to break into song. So much so that you were in danger of breaking your heart. Please don't even try to convince me that instances like this occur in Spamalot.

So these things (and books) have been distracting me today. Thankfully, they're reminding me that life is bigger than one job. My friend LEL took off today with her husband for three solid months in Brazil. Life is meant to be lived, not spent waiting for something to happen. I just have to fill in the space between now and "early next week" and brace myself with happiness for whatever comes to pass.

I wrote the thank you note. I've done all I can. I mean, sending a fruit basket is a bit much.

longest day in creation

I don't mind sitting around and getting paid for doing next to nothing, but to do so in a windowless room with a sore throat and after studying up for an interview today? i think i'm in a coma. has it been almost 8 hours since I got to work? has it been 78 hours?

everyone tells me i will be swamped with work when i finally get a full-time job, but honest to god, something has to be more compelling than freelance temporary full-time work. otherwise, why can't i get paid for staying in brooklyn all day, sitting at a desk.

i also spent a chunk of the day emailing an old friend with whom i used to sing in a prior life (ie: Bryn Mawr 1997-1998). funny that we're both here in NYC. this place is like a magnet.

Compliance

An email was sent out last week that employees at my hospital are required to follow certain dress codes. The most memorable banned items are transparent clothing (invisible capes?), designer jeans, and hats of any kind. I think the word designer should be up for debate, but they are not interested in the discussion so there has been a total smackdown. Pleated pants, white socks with dark shoes, and cinched items were strangely absent from the list. Now for the hats, why? I don't own any hats, but I adore them from afar. In the future, I think I will wear lots of hats and go to men's milliner's shops round the world. The last time I bought a hat was in Tokyo and the store was called New York Hat Company. Strange.

A date recently told me that he believes everyone should wear uniforms. I think we should be careful though about who gets the contract. I can see the logic though. If people didn't have to worry about their clothing, they could focus on adding color or style through other accessories like armbands, scarves, or hats. I have always been baffled about style, but know that adding spice to my wardrobe does not mean giant chili peppers patterned on black.

A friend, Nosi, was recently selected to be on What Not to Wear on TLC. Her close friends (I don't know them) all work at Nolita boutiques and submitted her case to the show. Nosi has forever hidden under a tangle of hair, her occasional pink lipstick barely visible through it. I have never seen the pink lipstick, but it supposedly exists. I don't think I necessarily disliked Nosi's wardrobe, but I definitely disliked her hair. I tried to talk her into a cut, but didn't know where she should go and didn't want to take the responsibility of a referral. TLC will now do that for me. They also will provide her with hotel accomodations, 5,000 dollars, and a team of experts. Much more effective than stealing her pink lipstick case and throwing it away.

So who is compliant? Who makes the rules? Do you want a uniform? Do you wear a uniform? What would be your required item?

not for me

today feels very strange. cinematic. i'm in a state of pause. in the meanwhile, life feels oddly like a scripted romantic comedy. i took a typing test today. i am wearing pantyhose and heels to work. a red turtleneck sweater over my blouse attempts to dull the edge of wearing a suit to work. it's raining today and my appointment was only 5 blocks away from my workplace, a prominent "women's" magazine.

Since when is anything within 5 blocks of something else in NYC?

OK, so a lot of things, but appointments and work? That is too easy.

Carly Simon's "Let the River Run" should be coursing through my mind after sitting in a large corner office at a very respected publishing house this morning. The office looked out onto Central Park. It was gorgeous.

But the weather is like soup. And instead, I have Harry Connick, Jr.'s version of "But Not for me" in my head. Why am I feeling all blue? The anticipation is over and now I'm just waiting for the decision. It's amazing how much energy we tap into in order to get through high pressure moments. Afterwards it's like coming down from a sugar high (you can tell I'm more of a sappy Meg Ryan than a fiesty Carrie Fisher).

i'm ready for the split screen scene where i am in my pajamas watching movies as is someone i love. wish i could fast-forward through this day.

ask amy sedaris

From The Believer magazine:

19 MAY 2005 — In the coming months, each edition of “Sedaratives,” Amy Sedaris’s advice column in the Believer, will deal with a specific theme. For August, she’ll be tackling issues pertaining to cooking. Please send your cooking-related queries to her at sedaratives - at - believermag.com

*************************

This is worth a subscription. If only she could read the letters (and her responses) on Late Show with David Letterman.

i want to go

OK. I wasn't so sure about the Nomadic Museum, but Gifford has gone and said it was awesome (her own words... you can quote her if you so desire). And it's closing on June 6th. So who wants to go? I can go the weekend of June 4th-5th.

Here's a NY mag article on it: http://www.newyorkmetro.com/nymetro/arts/architecture/11077/

serious history

I wonder if you can really grade history into "serious" and "light." I detest binaries. The notion of "serious" history came up today and it made me pause to think of our perspective on history or histories.

It calls into question what we deem as history. Is it all accounts of agression, politicals, social upheaval? Can history be joyful? Aren't most "golden" periods of history actually a site of repression and veiled hardship, if we probe enough? Also, how to we compare "serious" histories? Can one genocide trump another? What about economic downfall; is that less sexy?

On a side note, why do I find Eastern European literature so depressing? That said, is there a correlation between heavy, serious fiction and what I deem depressing Eastern European lit like Kundera and Klima?

from my window

In the street below, people are playing lovely bluegrass music. A banjo plucks along with a fiddle and songs float up through the window into my room where I'm reading "The Spiral Staircase": Karen Armstrong. The furniture store across the street is selling (still) expensive items for sale and I wish they had these celebrations each Saturday during the Spring and Summer months. Earlier someone played an accordian.

Last night T and I had drinks with friends from his department at Radio Perfecto on Amsterdam. We ended up staying late to watch the Phoenix-Dallas NBA playoff game as it went into overtime. I don't believe T had ever seen me get excited about sports before. "She's more of a boy than I am," he said and in some ways, it's true. If you want to stick to gender stereotypes, that is.

Today we met up with Nerb and another friend for lunch at Deluxe. Afterwards, Nerb and I went back to Brooklyn and broused through the furniture store like a young yuppie couple. Funny how easy it is to pass as a heterocouple. Even two years into dating T, I don't take for granted how nice it is to operate as a couple. I know all too well what it's like to be on the other side of that coupling.

But I didn't resent it then and I don't resent it now. Every social construct ends up like a dance; one you can pick up and let go. People who wail about the conformity or privilege of such positions haven't experienced all the exceptions. And moreover, I don't know if they've ever forced themselves to be strong enough to live without or without them. For better or worse.

I'm heading back to Louisiana pretty soon for Kari's wedding and I'm so happy for her. I think deciding to get married is a really big step. For that reason, I am satisfied to be a part of a couple and yet live my own very individual life. It's odd that T is in Manhattan and I am in Brooklyn, but I like it this way. There is so much we both want to do with our lives that a borough apart is just fine.

Besides, anyone who knows both of us would wonder how we could ever fit anything other than books in our apartment. The bookshelves would block the windows and then what of that?

new favorite food

For years, I've only eaten broccoli raw. I told myself that I don't like it cooked. Well, this may still be true. The idea of eating cream of broccoli soup still turns my stomach and broccoli with cheese sounds like tom cruise and katie holmes.

just wrong.

But, I've learned to eat a couple of new things thanks to riri. I have an unhealthy way of looking down on people who don't like to eat vegetables. So when she asked if steamed brussel sprouts and broccoli sounded good, I had to say yes. I didn't want to be fussy.

I was so surprised when I realized how much I enjoyed the brussel sprouts... and almost as surprised when I realized how good steamed broccoli can be! We made the broccoli again on Tuesday night so that we would have a veg side dish with our carb happy dinner of penne, tomato, garlic and basil.

After steaming the broccoli, we put it in a bowl and ate it like an appetizer. It was delicious. We were also eating very salty olives at the time. I wonder if that is what made them so good. We didn't dress the broccoli -- not even salt. I wonder if lemon would taste good on steamed broccoli. Any thoughts?

Bryn Mawr: It's all about style

OK. I laughed out loud when I saw this. As RiRi Thibodaux once said regarding the apparel of the typical Bryn Mawr student: "It's all about style."

Because I went to the most anal school in the universe (well, Johns Hopkins, MIT and Cal Tech may beat us out...), someone felt it necessary to mail this out 8 days before reunion. Enjoy - my comments follow in brackets.

**********************************
REUNION FASHION ADVICE
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Reunion is really just about visiting friends, not about what you wear. Nevertheless, this is an angst-laden topic for many, so our event planners put together some pointers for staying comfortable at a spring event at Bryn Mawr.

[because we have to worry about something besides what we're doing with our lives and how we never got that Ph.D despite winning the hoop race, there's fashion. I mean, without the stress of finals or the competition for fellowships, how will one feel truly at home chez Mawr? By agonizing about the one thing you didn't care about while in college: fashion]

When packing for Reunion, keep in mind that events are mostly casual with only one or two "dressed up" occassions.

[and by "dressed up," we mean, "get out of the flannel jammies!"]

All-Reunion meals (all breakfasts, Friday dinner and Saturday lunch in the Cloisters) are casual and family-friendly, as are programmed events. Shorts, slacks, jeans, T-shirts or polo shirts are perfectly appropriate for these meals.

[Not appropriate items: capes or bustiers. People, this is not the day we can't mention or the feast of M. Carey Thomas]

Saturday night class dinners are slightly more formal, as are events at the President's House (nice slacks and a blouse or simple knit or cocktail-length dress work fine).

[Please, for the love of God, don't wear slacks with pleats. Also, wearing a Chanel suit at Bryn Mawr is so uncooth. The woman was a collaborator! Didn't you learn anything from Historical Imagination!?]

THINK WRINKLE-FREE: The dorms don't have irons, so it's best to bring clothes that will stand up to traveling. Synthetic fabric knits and sturdy tailored items do well.

[We love polyester at Bryn Mawr... But is this message a subtle way to say that driers are off limits? Damn, I was hoping to schedule in some free laundry in the basement!]

LAYER...there's no telling what the weather will be, so the best bet is to layer: tank-top or t-shirt under long-sleeve with a sweater or cardigan and light jacket.

[Overalls over your shorts are not acceptable]

FOOTWEAR: Happy feet make happy alums (and a better event) - Keep in mind that many meals and events are OUTSIDE, which means that slender or stiletto-style heels (while popular this season) will sink in the grass. Uneven turf can also contribute to twisted ankles and spills. Your best bet when stepping off the pavement is flat-soled shoes or styles with wide, chunky or wedge heels.

[Wearing Manolo Blahniks will not erase the memory of four years in socks and Birkenstocks. Get over yourself. Additionally, please do not jump into the fountain in heels. This is a dangerous practice.]

- If it is chilly or rainy, open-toed shoes are not very comfortable. Pack a closed-toe alternative just in case.

[Again, socks do not close an open-toed shoe]

- TOURS require SNEAKERS. In fact, comfortable walking shoes are a must if you are going to be participating in a full day of activities. Wait until your class dinner to show off those killer fashion kicks.

[And by kicks we do not mean it is acceptable to kick your former classmates who deserve a beatdown. Please use language for such thrashings. We went to Bryn Mawr, after all.]

morale booster

Across the years, I've taken note of the employers who want to develop a sense of loyalty from their employees and those who really could care less. It comes down to morale. Does your company want to boost morale and make people feel good about working there, or are you supposed to feel blessed to enter the building and pray that you will make it through the day?

As many of you know, I've been freelancing this year. This means I work in many offices. I started a new gig yesterday. In the ladies room, I noticed a massive box full of pink plastic packs.

Tampons. Free tampons.

What better way to show your female employees you love them than to give them free tampons? I really think this should be manditory in all public restrooms. Other places where I've found free tampons? Dartmouth College and the Philadelphia International Airport.

Random, I know.

But this is so exciting. I knew I liked this place. Much better than one of my other former workplaces where I feel they deliberately installed bad lighting and "fat" mirrors so as to encourage their employees to feel bad about themselves and starve.

Where do you think your workplace falls in this spectrum of employee love/hate?

call it

are you a half-full or half-empty person? these days, i'm forcing myself to be that nagging half-full gal. in the face of frustration, i tap into the best resources i know: coffee, emailing, hideous photos of Britney Spears (and all of her ilk), losing myself in either fiction or non-fiction and multiple viewings of "gilmore girls." breakfast with friends is also good. the opera is great. how do you cope with life when that glass seriously needs a refill?

too much to read

right now i'm sitting at my desk. next to the computer (and under a recent picture of la famille LeBlanc) are The History of Love, Waiting for the Barbarians, The Innocents Abroad, If Not Winter: Fragments of Sappho and The Coast of Akron. And these are just the ones on my desk... What should I begin with?

New Room

The move across the living room is complete. I am now living in a room with natural light. Yes, after living in a windowless room since September, I now live in a room with glorious natural light (which woke me up at 6 am; I'm not adjusted to sleeping with light anymore) and a lovely view.

I could use some iced coffee. My back is sore from doing laundry, moving the entire kitchen to accomidate an exterminator at 8:15 am yesterday and moving furniture out of my new room and all my furniture into it. Turns out the boxspring has been upside down for the entire time I've slept in it (I never took the time to notice) and I flipped the mattress so it's like having a brand new bed. The sofa fits in my room perfectly and will make for an excellent reading nook.

Everyone should visit.

bridesmaid update 3: ta da

Here is the bridesmaid dress. Fortunately it looks better on than in the picture. Also, it's slightly darker in reality.

Also, I will not be wearing some hideous choker necklace.

bridesmaid update 2

For those of you who are following the great countdown til Ms. NOLA dons the satin gown, here is an update.

A certain bridesmaid still hasn't paid for the dress or even bothered to get it altered. It's sitting in the storeroom at Pearl's Place. Dust is collecting on the cellophane. The bride is losing patience with this old friend. There's more drama involved, but bringing it to light would surely reveal the lady in question. Will there be dulcet melodies or shrill, blunt words? To be continued.

Also, the rehearsal dinner will be here. Again, like most chichi places in NOLA, I haven't been there. I'm more of an oyster po'boy gal than a Oysters Rockefeller mademoiselle. If I haven't been with my friend the restaurant critic, I haven't been. Feel free to check out the menus at Cafe Giovanni and Cuvee and tell me if you can come up with a menu I can eat and still fit in the aforementioned gown the following night.

Also, a question: if you are ordained (is this the right word?) as a Eucharistic Minister (this is a Catholic ceremony for the uninformed) in high school, are you always eligible for duties at communion? Or do you need to get this renewed like a driver's license? This came up as well in conversation with Kari last night.

crack the spine

There's a strong part of me that wants to make iced tea and sing Laura Nyro songs to myself tonight. Summer's coming. I love this time of the year: easing into the sweltering heat of summer with a few brief weeks' relief. Me, I adore summer. I love the feel of baked in heat on my arms -- not from tanning, but just from walking around. Any mobile person doesn't need to tan. We should all enjoy being outside and take advantage of the agreeable weather.

Summer brings my birthday and the annual, conditioned kick to read even more than usual. Childhood's "summer reading" ritual stuck with me like a clinging swimsuit. The stack grows daily. A friend just lent me Nicole Krauss' "The History of Love" today. A friend of mine from Bryn Mawr is coming out to Brooklyn for dinner and conversation. Every day feels like a celebration during this time of year. And why not? This is the kind of weather that makes sundresses acceptable as uniforms.

And I'm moving into a new room in my apartment this weekend. A room with two tall windows, a ceiling fan and more space. I'm eager to open this book, crack the spine and read on.

what's wrong with America today

OK. There were many things I hated about teaching at a certain Quaker school in an unnamed city in Pennsylvania. But this epitomized a lot of what was wrong with teaching there.

We had to listen to "kidz" remixes of contemporary pop music. During afterschool freeplay outside on the asphalt covered black top, these prepubscent kids grinded like pole dancers to kids singing Avril Lavigne. It was disturbing to say the very least. My friend Shelley and I used to kid that we could make a ton of money if we pimped out these kids to Delilah's Den. There were definitely times we had to tell the kids they could no longer dance so provocatively. We were honestly worried about losing our jobs (our boss was a freakish tyrant). One of the kid's did what we called the Asha shuffle which consisted of a full body shimmy. No lie. Ask me about the four-year-old riding the foam blocks in the playroom if you want to hear about weird sexual undercurrents.

At any rate, I was amused to see this today on stereogum. I can laugh now because I'm no longer forced to pretend it's anything more than what it is: something else totally wrong with this country.

bridesmaid update 1

I'll be heading home in a month (literally) for Kari's wedding. I got the dirt on the bridesmaid luncheon yesterday and it's at Cuvee. Needless to say, I have never been there and the idea of eating a lot of rich food for lunch and dinner (still haven't heard where the rehearsal dinner will be but here is a picture of the St. Charles Streetcar with the church in the background) the day before I have to squeeze into a satin gown sounds like a bad idea. Whatever, I will go walking all over City Park that afternoon, I hope, between the big meals. I'm beginning to get a little freaked out thinking about my childhood best friend getting married. It's not the first big wedding, but it's the sum of them all capped off by Mlle. Kari that takes me aback.

As her sister wove the bows and faux flowers from Kari's shower onto a paper plate (meant to be a bouquet at the rehearsal), I couldn't help but think of Kari's fifth birthday party. All of us showed up in party dresses and bonnets with our dolls for a tea party and a ride on the St. Charles Streetcar. Our moms came along as well. I'm sure there were petitfours from Swiss Confectionary and punch. Surely, someone's dress got covered in Hawaiian Punch, but hopefully all dolls were spared.

Sometimes, I wonder how far removed everyone is from just playing house.

more reasons i need to get an ipod now

I really hate going to work without music. I have to say that listening to the chatter of other people does nothing but make my grind my teeth. Maybe I'm not suited to life in NYC? I don't know, but music does wonders to heal this particular issue. Also, for some reason, I concentrate more when I am listening to music and working at the same time.

I had an amazing time with my mom and lots of friends this weekend. Those of us at Marc's show had a great time dancing and watching the Leopolds, I mean, Duchess! It never fails to shock me when I see my brother playing guitar and singing with such urgency. Again, so good to see him, Fletcher and Aron together on stage... and the addition of Mike D was great.

Mom and I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens, MoMA, the Lower East Side, Chinatown and Prospect Park this weekend. We also had lunch at Deluxe, ate Japanese sweets with Brendan, hunted for Japanese stationary, drank wine and hung out with Marc, and had a great dinner at RJ and Kathleen's along with Tim. Tonight we are having dinner with the Southerner via Los Angeles, RiRi Thibadoux.

I read an article full of venom for Brooklyn today. It was written by a Manhattanite. I felt like I was listening to people from Philly go off about how NYC sucks and Philly is the best. People who make arguments like that have clearly never spent anytime in rural Louisiana, New Hampshire or Virginia. Get over it and find something good about everyplace. Just be thankful you don't live in Laplace, Louisiana.

I know I'm biased because I live in Brooklyn, but honestly, in terms of quality of life, why live in Manhattan over Brooklyn? I mean, it's cool if you don't like trees and you prefer to have a constant stream of traffic outside your door, but don't expect that to be everybody's cup of tea. I frankly miss living in Hanover, New Hampshire. Deranged. I need a trip to the country.

BTW, one week before I move into a room with a window.

hot or not

i almost got a job at "in touch" magazine, but i'm already booked. sorry for all of you who wanted to hear stories about me calling paris hilton's publicist.

love song for a better movie on NOLA

My mom and I dozed intermittantly through Love Song for Bobby Long. It does have some great scenes of New Orleans, especially shots near the river. The look of the film was straight out of the Sprout color palate and by that I mean bright solid colors. There was really nothing subtle about this film, particularly the standard obnoxious acting of John Travolta (sorry, Katie D, he drives me nuts). I really enjoyed watching Scarlett walk all the way from Algiers to the Lakefront in order to go to college. No New Orleanian would walk that far in the summer. Get a car, move or master the RTA, my friend.

In short, I need to watch it again because I really don't know what happened. Frankly, I figured out the big secret in the first 5 minutes and it took the whole film to drag out the revelation. Maybe there was something more than that? I don't know. I did the NOLA thing to do and slept.

No dessert til June 9th

OK. I am trying to stick to this one. Because I have very little willpower to change what I eat, I am going to try and just not eat dessert until the day of Kari's bridesmaid luncheon and rehearsal dinner. I am doing a bit of working out, but I need some more ideas as to how I can -- at least -- stay in shape and maybe tone up a little bit before this wedding in which I will be one of the non-engaged or married bridesmaids.

You can keep all comments about the lack of feminst consciousness in this post to yourself, btw. Gloria Steinem won't be there to make me look good on June 10th, people.

Return from the Dirty South

First off, it was cold in Louisiana. Granted, I did receive my typical bitch-slap from mother nature in the form of some serious humidity as I exited the plane at midnight Saturday morning. But I was shivering in a teeshirt at Jazz Fest that afternoon. What in the world is going on? A cool May in New Orleans? This is unheard of.

I danced to Elvis Costello, ate Mango Freeze, did the ceremonial following your friends march away from the Ray Ban stage (ooops, now the Acura stage... what is that?), danced with Sudha and ran into people I know.

As most of you know, running into people I know is one of my favorite passtimes. Why? Because it happens so effortlessly.

But I was only asked "When are you getting married?" once and that was by a certain singer. Not anybody's mother. Praise him.

I am mighty sleepy. These dramatic climate changes really affect me. What is mother nature telling me?