shrimp creole and energy drink
I am currently eating my dinner: enough shrimp creole for two dinners ($4 at verdi mart), a Von Dutch energy drink, a Hubig's pie, cigarettes, high spirits (non-alcoholic thusfar), and enough Decemberists to rock my socks off. There is nothing in the world like riding a bike full-tilt down Chartres Street listening to the Marigner's revenge on a cool Louisiana evening just before dusk. Last night I strutted down the quarter at night with a broom over my shoulder singing Chimbly Sweep in a full volume voice, on the way to sweep someone's courtyard. I did the squeaky lady's voice and everything, and Cenz laughed nervously. Then we joked, "*Cough cough* Aye we're chimbly sweeps.......... we're only 12... and dying of black lung................. let's not play this game anymore." Something about this place... it's remarkable old-world port town atmosphere and intense romantic mysterious air makes the Decemberists even better. Accordian, mandolin, and an odd accent sound only more awesome when immersed in the quarter. Every time I sit on the pier my love of their music is brought back full-force with pelicans and seagulls and ship horns and the caliope playing and the buggys going trotting by, and all of it. Have I mentioned that one of my neighbors plays accordian at night and I can sit on my balcony and listen sometimes? By moonlight. Yeah, what the hell? Now that I'm not working at Kern anymore I might even have the time and energy to enjoy this shit.
HORRRRAAAAYY!!! *SPazDanCE*
So Yes, monday I start work at the Hooka Cafe, with Sasha, Moon, Emily, and the other good friends I've made here so far. Have I mentioned to all of you that the flip side of my depressed missing of all of you is that I have actually made friends here, and they are actually awesome? I know, I whine so much you might not know... but it's true. They're far from replacements for my lovely Brewter literature geeks and my insane pirates, but a whole new breed. Punks of sorts, ex street kids and drug addicts most of them, who at some point or another met, pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, and became "regular" members of society. By that all I mean is employed, independent, and relatively clean... in both ways. Sasha is independently wealthy or something (I have no idea, something about a porn shop that happened between the street and owning a cafe, thogh i'm assured that if I were to google his name I could read all about it). They're all a general assorted mish mash of artistic, inteligent, happy, hilariously zany, musically talented, fun people who I have, miraculously, met almost immediately and completely vibed with. Moon and I sing Neutral Milk and Decemberists together, Sam sits in my shipping cart and when i'm not looking wheels himself away with my groceries, Sasha and i talk art and dance at the whirling dervish, Emily and I are reeeally alike and generally mischevous. We all paint together and cook dinner and generally cause a ruccus and run around with Cloe, Sasha's dog. I hope you all get to meet them. Go to 80's night at One Eyed Jack's. Share a hooka. You're all invited. You would all love these folks, I know it.
*Hubig's pie* mmmmmmm... pure sugar. http://www.lalagniappe.com/hubigs_pies.htm
And on that note, I'm off to Hooka to see Sasha. I must maintain an energy level that will allow partying starting at midnight. And I've been up since 6am. Ha! When will I clean my appt so that when Thad gets here I'm not mortified? I have no idea! Who cares? *pie* mmmmmm...
the sweet taste of freedom.
PS: check out the little art I made. I like it. http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/28188134/
HORRRRAAAAYY!!! *SPazDanCE*
So Yes, monday I start work at the Hooka Cafe, with Sasha, Moon, Emily, and the other good friends I've made here so far. Have I mentioned to all of you that the flip side of my depressed missing of all of you is that I have actually made friends here, and they are actually awesome? I know, I whine so much you might not know... but it's true. They're far from replacements for my lovely Brewter literature geeks and my insane pirates, but a whole new breed. Punks of sorts, ex street kids and drug addicts most of them, who at some point or another met, pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, and became "regular" members of society. By that all I mean is employed, independent, and relatively clean... in both ways. Sasha is independently wealthy or something (I have no idea, something about a porn shop that happened between the street and owning a cafe, thogh i'm assured that if I were to google his name I could read all about it). They're all a general assorted mish mash of artistic, inteligent, happy, hilariously zany, musically talented, fun people who I have, miraculously, met almost immediately and completely vibed with. Moon and I sing Neutral Milk and Decemberists together, Sam sits in my shipping cart and when i'm not looking wheels himself away with my groceries, Sasha and i talk art and dance at the whirling dervish, Emily and I are reeeally alike and generally mischevous. We all paint together and cook dinner and generally cause a ruccus and run around with Cloe, Sasha's dog. I hope you all get to meet them. Go to 80's night at One Eyed Jack's. Share a hooka. You're all invited. You would all love these folks, I know it.
*Hubig's pie* mmmmmmm... pure sugar. http://www.lalagniappe.com/hubigs_pies.htm
And on that note, I'm off to Hooka to see Sasha. I must maintain an energy level that will allow partying starting at midnight. And I've been up since 6am. Ha! When will I clean my appt so that when Thad gets here I'm not mortified? I have no idea! Who cares? *pie* mmmmmm...
the sweet taste of freedom.
PS: check out the little art I made. I like it. http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/28188134/