Road Trip

So we are currently about halfway through our last roadtrip of 2012 / our first roadtrip of 2013. We started in Provo, made it to Roswell, then Austin, Baton Rouge, and New Orleans. It has been very great. Stressful, as travelling in close proximity with other people has become lately, but good nonetheless.

I'm just going to document today because I'm sort of sleepy and it is most fresh in my mind. Also, it was the busiest day we've had [only an hour and half drive each way!].

We woke up at 8:30, had home-made pancakes, and high-tailed it out to New Orleans.

Our dear GPS, in an effort to find us a parking lot [which, if you stayed longer than 8 hours cost $50. FIFTY DOLLARS], led us on a drive right down the middle of the French Quarter. We parked in the expensive lot and walked down to the Gumbo Shop for lunch. I ordered a blackened-catfish po'boy, and other people got seafood gumbo, chicken gumbo, and artichoke soup. Mine was SO GOOD. I love seafood. Our waitress was very kind, very caring. She also pegged Jared as a heavy-drinker. Much was made of this assumption throughout the rest of the day.

An aside: EVERYONE here is so nice. Really. They're all concerned and want to help out as much as they can. It's sweet. Also, I've said "God bless" about a hundred times, and it feels very good and is always met with an "And t'you."

When we got out of the restaurant, we went to a square a few blocks away where a great jazz band was performing and an old man danced with his cane while a street-sweeper danced with his broom. I got a tarot card reading from an old black lady, and she was very nice. I drew the emperor, the queen of swords, the knight of cups, the lovers, the VII of wands, and the Judge. I'll talk about what that all means in a later post. Here it sufficeth to say that I don't disagree with a single word the psychic said. [Also, I here state my regret that I didn't get my palm read by a guy called Angelic Jeffy].

After that we wandered around, then found the French Market. We ate Gator-on-a-stick [I had one bite and nearly threw up; it was so oily] and pralines. We found lots of masks, lots of trinkets, and I saw a famous person [Roy, from The IT Crowd, if you wanted to know]. It was great. My Bacon-number is probably a two or something now.

Anyway. We worked our way North towards the City Park which was huge and beautiful. We ate beignets and went through part of a sculpture garden. We climbed on a tree and played truth-or-dare.

By the time we'd made it back, it was barely 6, and everyone on Bourbon Street was drunk as a skunk. We tried to go to Preservation Hall, but it wasn't yet open [and was also sold out]. So we wandered back to the car.

We got out unscathed, and went to Whataburger for dinner. Many jokes were made about the name. Then we went and saw Les Mis and I wept like a child [I don't even know who I am anymore]. On our way back home we saw a horrible horrible car wreck. I am heartsick.

The day ended [and the year began] with a slice of blueberry cheesecake, and all is quiet and calm.

My wish and focus for 2013: That all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.

NB: Things I will further address in a later post maybe - first, my tarot reading; second, the fact that New Orleans is a highly sensuous city, and I spend all my time trying to pretend I am not human; third, Les Mis].

Revisitation I

Going through my blog post page, I realized that I maybe have more unpublished posts than published ones. So I'm gonna go through and post some of them, just for fun. Most of the time they're incomplete thoughts, but not always.

Here's one:

Pancakes (20 September, 2010)


It's past eleven, and I'm eating pancakes. I've been craving them since the Timp hike a couple weeks back, and only just barely got around to making some. The door stands open to the sounds of crickets and obnoxious laughter a few apartments down.

I think I sometimes have a hard time relating to people.

Losing it

So loss seems to be a common theme for lots of people in my life: loss of love, loss of family, loss of religion, etc. etc.
It's like that poem says - "The art of losing isn't hard to master."

I'm a little harried at the moment, writing papers etc. Plus I don't feel like hashing out my present crises of faith and friends on the internet just yet.

Instead, here are three well-written things I've read this semester that are all about loss:

"And that's when I know it's over. As soon as you start thinking about the beginning, it's the end."

-Junot Diaz, This is How You Lose Her

"Appalled, the child watched the quarrel mount and spread. He began to cry quietly, to himself, knowing that it was a different weeping to any he had experienced before, that he was crying for a different pain. And the child began to understand that they were different people; his father, his mother, himself, and that he must learn sometimes to be alone."

-Leslie Norris, "Blackberries"

"Now I come home from work and look for his regular-size shape walking and worrying and realize, over and over, that he's gone. I pace the halls. I chew whole packs of gum in mere minutes. I review my memories and make sure they're still intact because if he's not here, then it is my job to remember. I think of the way he wrapped his arms around my back and held me so tight it made me nervous and the way his breath felt in my ear: right."

-Aimee Bender, "The Rememberer"