6.27.2003
these few days in new orleans were great. it felt like an episode of Gilmore Girls...just mom and myself. now i know where i get my spontaneity and spunk from. (:P) maybe its the fact that we share the same middle name...who knows.
so...what did we do? well...heres a general overview:
day 1: leave house...car ride never ending...arrive in Metairie! check in hotel...chill out for a few hours...get lost...VERY LOST...meet up with the christopher...chilled with him at his house for a few hours...*pause for a grin*...back to hotel
day 2: wake up...hit the bridal/bridesmaid stores...found the most BEAUTIFUL Vera Wang dress in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD...vow to self that i WILL HAVE that dress for senior prom...go to fabric stores so mother can do business...spend rest of day/night in new orleans...too much fun. hahah...we also ate at Hooters. (mothers idea) WHAT?! they have good chicken. (:P) heheh
day3: wake up...hang around Metairie for a while, then decide its time to make the agonizing trip back to borington....err...sterlington.
yup...so of course, the downsized version does the actual trip no justice, but i did acquire 3 things.
1.) a newfound friendship with the mother. - i never really realized that she was that cool. (i mean, i knew she was cool...but not THAT cool...and spontaneous as hell. gotta love it)
2.) a restored love for a city that is too often eschewed due to it's stereotyped exterior.
3.) a new babysitter - he works at Pat O’Brien’s. *wink*
the mother went inside to get me another hurricane glass (since mine broke - leaving me truly upset) and the guy working the door out front was like, "i'll baby-sit her!!" ...lol...which, he was 21...it wasnt that awkward of a situation. plus, he was a good conversationalist. so life continued to be okay. heheh
then his friend comes around and things went a little like this:
hey, man...when you get off?
have to work another hour
why you at the front?
i'm babysittin. *smirk*
haha - why you babysittin her?
cuz she's still a "bebay"
how old are you, girl? ...20...21?
hah! try 17.
YOU A LIE!! no she aint..
yeah she is
dayum...she look older
she aint
yes she is
nuh uh
...ect...ect...ect.
(and they argued about this for a little while, while i assured them i was only 17 - and that was followed by a brief conversation about my eyes. lol...obviously they liked them. (:P) anyways, that preceded the stereotypical lecture on how im supposed to treasure the fact that i'm still young...and blah blah blah...yadda yadda yadda..."you better come see me in a few years, 'bebay'"...ect ect. then the mother returned, i bid my goodbyes, and we carried on)
it was quite humorous...maybe you needed to have been there. (:P)
well...not much more to write about...although im not sure i conveyed to you my deep love for that...sultry...city lying on the banks of the mississippi.
and since the trip was truly inspiring, i've decided to share with you what i wrote in my head on the way home.
(spoken aloud)
"Well, i love where i live...i'm happy with the way things are..."
(meanwhile thinking)
Oh, whom am i attempting to fool? i long to be in the vieux carre again. Cappalinis a Pierre Maspero's...beignets a Cafe Du Monde...petifours a Gambinos...ahhh....even if i wanted to, i could not have captured the essence of the ambiance in a simple 24 exposure. possibly a painting...no, not even that. sitting at the bar at Crescent City Brewhouse...as everyone hustled and bustled around...there was a sense of calmness in all the madness. That, "my wife wont mind if i'm a little late"...or, "there’s work to be done, but i'm too caught up in the moment to worry about it". The obvious sense of fatigue in the very cajun african american cook...but an underlying sense of satisfaction. almost as if, if you stared at him long enough, you'd realize that under that overbearing black apron there was a foot tapping in perfect accordance to the jazz band, playing a slow, soulful song in the corner. that slight smirk on the bartenders face...revealing that he IS tired...he IS rushed...but he wouldn’t have it any other way. the city is bursting with surprises...it doesn’t matter how many times you walk up and down those unforgettable streets, each time there’s something new...some new corner you have yet to take...some garden longing to be discovered. you never know what you'll find. the mimes, the bands, the children playing with their newfound balloon friends...the rod iron balconies, the alligators in storefronts. such despair comes when its time to leave...when the night finally forces you to retreat, and your only option is to saunter the streets one more time...for the night has cooled the busy city just enough for the breeze, carrying a rich aroma of cajun seasonings and distant jazz bands, to slide past your face, and force a grin to appear. the last sight when leaving consists of the uncontested queen of cemeteries, and a last glimpse of life, seeming eternal by the increasingly distant lights persevering on...back in the city....the “non-conformist” of cities...the only one i wish to be in...the only...New Orleans.
laurajane...signing off
~iM OuT~
lj [1:30 AM]
