(no subject)
I have some little cards and I have a little initiative. I wondered if there are people out there who want to get a thing in the mail. I'd consider it a favor if you send me your address so I can send you a something.
Twenty odd weeks in New Orleans, off and on, and it's beautiful, rediculously un-self concious and I love it.
There's no infrastructure, no support. The buses don't run on time, the post office don't open, or it closes early. You can't get anything done during lunch because everyone went out for daquiris. It's not America, people keep telling me, except on the edges in Jefferson Parish where the white flight got to. There are whole neighborhoods with a ghost town air, and disgustingly expensive cars roll down streets defined by crippled appartments. FEMA trailors leak formaldahide when the sun shines on them. Everyone is rediculously nice, and the food is always good.
So, if you would like a present from this absurd place, send me your address at barker.rebecca@gmail.com.
Twenty odd weeks in New Orleans, off and on, and it's beautiful, rediculously un-self concious and I love it.
There's no infrastructure, no support. The buses don't run on time, the post office don't open, or it closes early. You can't get anything done during lunch because everyone went out for daquiris. It's not America, people keep telling me, except on the edges in Jefferson Parish where the white flight got to. There are whole neighborhoods with a ghost town air, and disgustingly expensive cars roll down streets defined by crippled appartments. FEMA trailors leak formaldahide when the sun shines on them. Everyone is rediculously nice, and the food is always good.
So, if you would like a present from this absurd place, send me your address at barker.rebecca@gmail.com.