Oh wait…I forgot.

So. My very favorite band ever is playing Jazz Fest this year! I’m heading down to New Orleans tomorrow just to see them. And I can’t wait.

I’ve only seen Iron & Wine live once, about a year and a half ago at the House of Blues. It was totally awesome.

Surriously, y’all. It was amazing. Certain friends of mine were convinced that there’s nothing in the world more boring than an Iron & Wine concert, but they’ve never been to one. Sam Beam played songs to the music of other songs, and I thought my head might explode.

That was a good trip.

Welllll, a few months ago, I saw somewhere that Iron & Wine is playing Jazz Fest, and I was, like, ZOMFG IRON & WINE IS PLAYING JAZZ FEST I MUST GO. Keep in mind that this is the only band I would travel like this for and that I hate Jazz Fest. I used to go when I was a teenager, but it got soooo crowded. Then I lived about two blocks away from it for a few years. I might have gone once during that time. Until now! Sam Beam will pull me out of my I Hate Jazz Fest funk, and I will brave the crowds with a smile on my face.

So! If you’re in New Orleans this weekend, and/or you’ll be at Jazz Fest on Sunday, hit me up!

BONUS: Thanks to Spotify, I’ve cooked up a little All Iron & Wine All the Time Time playlist for your enjoymentz.

I tried reading Watership Down several years ago and failed. I remembered what happened more than halfway through the novel, so I’m surprised I didn’t just finish it. It is long, though. And it’s totally worth a read. I really enjoyed it, though reading from a rabbit’s point of view took a bit of getting used to. The novel is about rabbits starting their own warren and the Things that Happen. It’s amazingly violent – much more than I thought it would be. I haven’t seen the movie (or if I have, it’s been a really long time), but I bet it sticks pretty close to the novel’s plot. And Adams is great at imagery. I felt like I was in the warren with the rabbits.

The first time I tried to read Watership Down, I lived in Mid City, New Orleans. It was probably a year or two before the hurricane. My condo wasn’t in the best neighborhood, but it wasn’t terrible, either. Except a girl named Ashley lived next to me, and she sold prescription drugs, so ne’er-do-wells were often about, yelling up to her window. “AshLEY!” Urgh. Anyway, I was sitting in a recliner next to a window that looked out to my small patio. It had a privacy fence a good bit taller than me. I heard a noise, and a dude I assumed to be one of AshLEY’s “friends” jumped over my fence, grabbed my bicycle, shoved it over the fence, and jumped back over. Goodbye to my bike. Not that I really rode it or anything. I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat really still and watched him. I figured it’d be a bad idea to try and confront him since the only thing between us was a thin pane of glass.

I don’t really have a lot to say about this novel. I really liked it. There’s also a Tales from Watership Down that I’ll probably look into at some point. A novel about rabbits was certainly a change from what I’ve been reading lately.

Saturday was awesome. We went to my second-favorite restaurant IN THE WORLD, Sake Cafe, for a late lunch. I finally got some decent squid salad – I hadn’t had good squid salad in years. Then I got a tasty, tasty bento box dinner – we’d just missed the lunch menu, which would have saved me a good deal of money. I wish Shreveport had good Japanese food.

I had to take a nap after that meal.

Then, it was prep time. Saturday was my ten-year high school reunion. I wore heels. And makeup. And jewelry.

We rented out the Saloon at the Bourbon Cowboy with an open premium bar. I had more fun than I’ve had in years. About forty of my class of sixty-something showed up, and we had a blast. It was really cool to catch up with several people I hadn’t talked to in years.

I lifted this picture from a classmate’s profile:I didn’t take many photos at all, which is kind of weird for me.

I especially like this one:
And then there were the videos, like this one, which I strongly suggest you view without sound because your head just might explode if you listen to them.

Really, though, much of that night is a blur. We had the bar to ourselves until ten, and then the general public came in and ruined things. You can see some of them in the group photo above: the girl who forgot half her shirt was not with us. Once too many of them came in, we all moved elsewhere, to the Goldmine, which is eight blocks away on Dauphine Street. I didn’t have any problems with my heels until that dangerous trek. Here I was, not having worn heels in ten years, drunkenly stumbling down Bourbon Street with forty other girls. By the time we got to the Goldmine, I thought I might die, and we left reasonably soon after that – pretty soon involves dancing and a couple additional beverages. Eventually, we gathered ourselves, called a cab, and drove back to Metairie. There was an interesting adventure at my friend Rosie’s house that I’ll refrain from telling you about.

I slept so well that night.

Oh wait: I forgot to mention my souvenir. I now have a blue toenail, and shoes are really painful. On Sunday morning, I had to borrow Sneha’s flip flops until we could go to Walmart to find some cheap ones for me to wear home because I simply could not wear shoes. All that was competely worth it, of course, since I had so much fun.

I should be reading The Sun Also Rises, but I’m at work, and people won’t stop talking. So here’s part two of Friday in New Orleans.

So. After the Apple store, etc, things got interesting. Sneha and I went uptown to meet a classmate neither of us had seen in ten years. We went to the PJ’s near Magazine and Jefferson, where we hung out almost every day after school. That was weird in itself. I hadn’t talked to this classmate at all, and Sneha had only begun talking to her recently. I was so convinced things would be awkward since we didn’t exactly get along while we were in high school. Ten years makes a huge difference, though, and we had a lot of fun.

When PJ’s closed at nine, which seems unreasonably early to me, we all went to my very favorite restaurant in the whole world, Lebanon’s Cafe. Seriously. This is my favorite restaurant. Mona’s in Shreveport was a cheap knock-off, though for some reason, Mona’s usually beats Lebanon’s in the Greek/Lebanese section of the Gambit‘s annual Best of New Orleans feature. I had a falafel appetizer and a gyro sandwich, like I usually do when I go there. Oh God, it was tasty. And after the carnage:

That was my Friday. Oh, it was so lovely. Every time I go to New Orleans, I want to figure out how to move back down there. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and in SEVEN YEARS I’ll get a job teaching at Tulane or Loyola. That’s a long time.

The drive here was…interesting. I didn’t leave Shreveport until 5:45 or so, so most of my drive was in the dark. I. hate. driving. in. the. dark. Especially when it’s raining, which it was for at least half the trip. At one point, all I could see was the backside of the 18-wheeler in front of me. I was surrounded by thunderstorms. I took a video, hoping to show the CONSTANT lightning, but was unsuccessful. So here’s another one:

I made it to Sneha’s, in one piece, around 10:30. We goofed off for a long time. I slept better than I have in months.

So much for Thursday.

Yesterday was awesome. Sneha’s parents are out of town for a wedding, and we’re staying in their house. Before they left, her mom cooked. I had this lovely uppittu, which I think might be my new favorite food, for breakfast yesterday. I’m going to try making it when I get home. (Sneha suggested this site for southern Indian recipes.)

After this lovely breakfast, we went on a field trip to the New Orleans DMV. I tweeted that I was sure we’d die there. It seemed half the city was there – we stood in a line for over a half-hour just to get to the desk where they give you the ticket. Here’s what Sneha thought about that.

We were there for almost two hours. There were plenty of interesting people to watch, or we probably would’ve gotten bored. In the end, of course, Sneha was victorious:

After that, we had a tasty, tasty lunch at la Madeleine. It’s the only chain I really like. Shreveport was supposed to get one at some point, but it fell through. I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be in the strip with Dick’s and DSW. Anyway, I had my first Napoleon in a couple years – except it was strawberry. The bakery woman said they don’t sell regular Napoleons anymore, which made me incredibly sad. Here’s the Napoleon mid-massacre. It was so tasty.

Then we went to Lakeside Mall. Since I moved away, they’ve added two parking garages and a Macy’s. I get disoriented every time I go there. But we went. Because there’s now an Apple store. Mind you, every time I go into an Apple store expecting the religious experience I should have, I’m disappointed. This one, specifically, appears to be the afternoon Catholic schoolgirl hangout. As Sneha said, the stools are just the right size to do each other’s hair. I made it out of the Apple store (and the mall) with only the things I “needed:” a new cover for my iPhone (which looks exactly like the old one) and a car charger. Yay!

My tenth high school reunion is this weekend. Creepy.

So I’m driving to New Orleans this afternoon. I’d have gone earlier, but I have to wait until five to pick up some jeans I had altered at the cleaner’s. I was going to do it myself, but, when I actually looked at the price-tag, I figured I should leave it to the professionals.

So off I go. I don’t visit New Orleans very often anymore – once or twice a year at most. Even though I lived there for twelve years, I feel rather awkward when I go back. I’m not quite sure why.

Anyway, this is a rather special occasion, and, sadly, I’ll have to dress up. Someone rented out a bar in the Quarter for Saturday night, which should be awesome, considering there’s an open premium bar. It could turn ugly, of course, since I just bought these lovely heels. I haven’t worn heels in ten years. The last time I wore them was my high school graduation, when I swore I’d never wear them again. My dress is awesome enough to warrant them though, and it looks pretty awkward in flats.

Wait. Why am I talking so much about heels?

Granted, I do suffer from the all-too-common woman-disease, the lust for shoes. Which, I think, is pretty funny because I’m so not like that. You see my chucks in the bottom corner of the photo. That’s what I wear. My lust is, sadly, not for the shiny, expensive shoes that everyone else wants. Or maybe that’s a good thing.

Enough about shoes. I’m driving to New Orleans tonight. This should prove an interesting trip as I haven’t seen most of these people in ten years. Not that I’ve really wanted to. There are about five people out of the sixty or so I’m interested in seeing. But I bet it’s like that for most people going to reunions.

By the way, I blame my newfound textiness wholly on the education majors.

I spent a few days in New Orleans with some friends. I hadn’t spent any real time there for about a year and a half, and it was really nice to be back. I spent a lot of time sitting in coffeeshops and bars, and the day I had dedicated to taking pictures, I lost my wallet (fun!) and spent the day trying to find a DMV – they’ve all moved since the storm. Anyway, here’s the flickr set link.