frenzy, flurry, shim sham, blurry

This is what I've been up to lately:

1) A bachelorette party

From the balcony of the Hustler Club

2) A wedding

"Bridesmaids 4 Life"

3) A birthday party

This weekend, it's Running of the Bulls, biking to the Bywater, flying kites (weather permitting), and making a seafood gumbo. And a little rest too.

"but you'll fight and you'll make it through/ you'll fake it if you have to"

I didn't mean to take nearly a month's hiatus from the blog, but life has been so busy lately. Plus, I'm sure no one minded :)

Things have been a little tumultuous lately. As it stands today, I've received three letters of rejection from programs: OSU, Vanderbilt, and Rutgers. OSU was a blow for me; I was really hoping to get into that program. Still waiting to hear from LSU, Stanford and Indiana. Before I sent in apps last semester, one of my professors told me that a longer wait is not a bad thing--it usually means they're still considering your application instead of outright rejecting it. I'm holding out hope that this is the case for Stanford. It probably isn't--they probably just have a billion applications to sort through--but a girl can dream, can't she?

I also, after much consideration and a long talk with my adviser, decided to nix the thesis. In the end, I think I could have done it, but I would have been insane trying to squeeze in a thesis between work, carnival season, Chicago/AWP. The sheer volume of work I'd have to do in a month, even barring those extras, would have been incredible. And I decided, and supported in this decision by Tom, that I didn't want to write something hurriedly and end up publishing something that I wasn't 100% proud of writing. I'm still a little bummed about the way things played out, but also admittedly relieved that I've been able to have a free semester. I've been reading a LOT (I'm caught up on #19 on the list!), I went to TWENTY Mardi Gras parades, I saw lots of friends, I've had time to clean my house and watch movies and be a little lazy, which has been a rare luxary over the past two years. I feel good about what I did--I finished my MLA in a year and a half. I'm graduating with a 3.95 GPA. I learned a lot and made an amazing friend. And now I just want a little time to enjoy New Orleans some more, especially if it might be my last time for a long time to live here. 

In addition to the above, and maybe because of in some sense, I've also been fighting some depressive episodes this month. When I first started this entry a few days ago, I was listening to this Rilo Kiley song on repeat in an effort to remind myself that I've gotten to a place in life where I know how to fight those situations. This has just been a tough one. I've had multiple anxiety attacks this month. I've been trying to center myself with balanced friend and alone time, cooking, cuddling with the cat, and whiskey. The last in moderation. Mostly.

But, all in all, it's been a fairly good month. Mardi Gras was a blast (excepting the actual day, which was awful for me for reasons I don't want to go into here), I ran around in a leather corset and a tutu, I saw friends, I got a Zulu coconut, my friend got engaged, Richie made me an AMAZING Valentine's Day dinner (seared scallops on garlic butter angel hair, followed by duck breast topped with a cream and Abita Amber reduction, on a bed of pureed turnips and garlic sauteed kale) and I made him one of the best cakes I've ever made--a double layered red velvet cake with a layer of cheesecake in the middle. I'm ready to round out the month with a train ride to Chicago, panels on writing, playing in one of my favorite cities and spending a week with some of my very favorite people.

and sometimes when you're on 

you're really fucking on
and your friends they sing along and they love you
but the lows are so extreme

that the good seems fucking cheap
and it teases you for weeks in its absence
but you'll fight and you'll make it through
you'll fake it if you have to
and you'll show up for work with a smile
and you'll be be better and you'll be smarter
and more grown up and a better daughter
or son and a real good friend
and you'll be awake, you'll be alert
you'll be positive though it hurts
and you'll laugh and embrace all your friends
and you'll be a real good listener
you'll be honest, you'll be brave
you'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful
you'll be happy

the minimum

me: boobs. stupid face. arbor mist in a bag.

Alyson:  OMG BEST PHOTO EVA

 

Taken: At the Fly on a day when we had lots of other things to do but didn't want to do them so instead drove to the river with screwtop wine (because we forgot the corkscrew) and some guitars and made up songs about random things until the sun went down.

juxtaposition

I had a really really bad day yesterday.
I went to the funeral on about 4 hours of sleep. I spent most of the time beforehand talking to my cousin Joe, the one who recently lost his wife to cancer. The funeral itself was very very hard, made more so by the preacher who spent the entire time trying to convert people to Christianity and making comments like, "I've never had anyone I know die in...this manner but..." I wanted to stand up and shout, "NO ONE GIVES A FUCK ABOUT YOUR LIFE, YOU SMUG FUCK."
One bright spot was hanging out with my 8 year old cousin, who regaled me with tales of how his sister loves cookies, how he loves cookies, how he does a great dog impression, how the Tigers are going to go all the way unless they lose to Arkansas. At one point, he solemnly looked at me and said, "Mandi, you sure did grow a lot since I saw you." I replied, "Well, no. I'm just wearing heels." I took them off and he said, sagely, "I thought so. You're pretty short. I'm almost as tall as you."
On the way back to New Orleans, the front tire on the truck blew and there wasn't a jack in the truck, so my mom and little brother had to come out and Alex changed the tire. Then the spare was flat. So we filled it but it's leaking air.
I finally make it to Richie's and he went to Bayona to pick up his paycheck so we could go out that night for dinner. But his check was postdated, so no one would cash it and I ended up just giving him the cash to pay. Both of us were so frustrated by that point, that we almost skipped dinner and stayed home drinking.

Instead, we ended up having a really fantastic night. We went to Cochon (Richie's birthday present to me) and I had some prosecco while we waited for a table. The food was absolutely incredible--we split the boucherie plate (cured ham, salami, prosciutto, pate, hogshead cheese, crutons, bread and butter pickles, pickled tomatillos with dijon mustard), followed by a amuse bouche of grilled oysters and a bowl of seafood gumbo Richie ordered. For dinner, I got a seared pork belly on a bed of mashed turnips and garlic green beans, while Richie got the cochon with braised cabbage and turnips and topped with cracklins. We split a dessert of a chocolate ice cream "sandwich' filled with caramel ice cream and topped with chocolate strudel and peanut brittle. I seriously almost cried, the food was so good. Hands down the best meal I've ever eaten.
Afterward, we met up with a couple of friends and had a little coffee and a few beers at Avenue Pub.So, a really wonderful way to end an incredibly shitty day.

Unfortunately, I forgot my camera last night, but here are some pics from birthday celebrating:
Ladies at my Fancy Pants Party
lady p-i-m-p
Jason and me...I'm drinking from a "woozie"--a wine glass with a coozie--and he's drinking from a wine glass made from a Mason Jar
Nancy and I posing with Margaret Atwood books. Nancy is so gorgeous.
Richie and me, wherein I look exceptionally drunk
Nano and me, after lunch with the family. I am hungover.

the kindness of strangers

Me: I love zotz
I just had a horrible coughing fit
the barista brought me water, a friend gave me a mini twix and some stranger gave me a cough drop
I feel the love.
Christie:haha. musta been a bad one!
but that's cool
they wouldn't do that at perks. FUCK THEM THEY DONT CARE
Me: yeah, I was doubled over
hahahahaa
well, that dude at perks did give me meds that time
maybe I just have a pitiful look about me
Christie: naw, peeps is just nice to you
Me: I appreciate it
I still feel like blanche dubois though

a collection of tiny stories

The Perils of Jungle Juice
On the 22nd, I went to a friend's costume party and there was a large bowl of "Witches' Brew." I had two large cups on an empty stomach, followed by a beer. Then I drove to the Quarter to go pick Richie up, but his phone was dead and after an hour of waiting for him, I angrily went home and locked the deadbolt, because I am vindictive. He came home via taxi (turns out we'd just missed one another and he'd been in a cab for awhile) while I was in the midst of removing my makeup. He started knocking on the door and as I walked into the living room to go unlock the door, I realized I was going to be sick. So I ran to the door, slamming my leg into a side table in the process (resulting in a really beautiful bruise), unlocked it and yelled "I'M SICK" in response to his "what the fuck is wrong with you?" He followed me into the bathroom and held my hair and stroked my shoulder and gave me water while I asked him to go away. Then he put me to bed and asked me if I wanted a PB&J. I said yes, then promptly fell asleep. He found me asleep, ate my sandwich and also went to bed. I woke up around 2am, feeling dismal and looking for my sandwich.

Fall Festivities
Jason, Lianna and I carved pumpkins and drank pumpkin beer in a non-ironic festive way. Jason carved a yin yang, Lianna carved a TV and I carved a martini glass and a bottle because I'm a drunk.

Voodoo Hoodoo
I went to Voodoo all three days. On Friday, Eddie and I biked there and saw Ani Difranco, Band of Horses and Soundgarden. All were great shows.
Saturday, I went alone and caught a bounce show, Social Distortion, Snoop Dogg (with Mystikal) and Blink 182. Blink's set kind of sucked, was full of inane dick jokes and I left halfway through, after my inner 14 year old was mostly satisfied (I really only wanted to hear "Dammit" and they didn't play it before I left). I admittedly teared up slightly during this set, despite it sucking, because it made me think of when Candace and I used to blast Enema of the State in her backyard and sit upside down on her swing and sing the lyrics to her next door neighbor (the crush of my teenage life). I biked back to Richie's, where I'd left the truck and as I was tying up my bike, two gay guys approached me and asked me if I'd give them a ride to Palmer Park. I was kind of hesitant at first, but I figured what the hell and let them in. They invited me to a party, but I politely declined.
On Sunday, I went with Richie and Matt. We saw Dr. John, then met up with Lianna at TV on the Radio (fantastic show). The boys left to go see The Meters, while Lianna and I caught the rest of TVotR, grabbed food and went to see The Clash. We wandered over to catch the end of The Meters set, met up with the boys to see The Ranconteurs. I got pretty high during the TVotR show and I started getting kind of paranoid during The Ranconteurs, but Richie and Lianna calmed me down (I'm not good at being high. I either get stupid silly or paranoid.) Richie and I went to Finn's afterward and got drinks that I almost fell asleep in, because I'd only had 4 hours of bad sleep.

Frenchman Follies
On Saturday night, post-festival, I got dressed up in voodoo doll drag and Matt and I headed down to the Marigny. We met up with friends at Mojito's, started drinking a lot. I had a brief blood sugar episode, which passed when I found a muffin. We went to The John and there was a boyfriend/girlfriend incident that culminated in the decision that everyone needed to eat, which is how we ended up at some hot sausage place on St. Claude at 3am, eating poboys and taking ridiculous and cute pictures. Then we walked over to Big Daddy's to play pool and finally ended the night at Mimi's until dawn. Richie and I ate more PB&J in bed (it's kind of a thing), before falling into some really bad sleep. We finally got out of bed around 1, coffee'd up and headed back to Voodoo.

T.C. Obsession
I've been reading T.C. Boyle's The Women. I really ought to know better than to pick up a Boyle book while I have other pressing matters to attend to, because he always sucks me in. I started it because I didn't want to be bored between shows at Voodoo. Richie said, "You're going to a festival with tens of thousands of people and you're going to be the one reading a book?" I replied, "I don't think you understand how antisocial I really am with strangers."
So now I'm toting the book everywhere, reading it until 2am and it reminded me of the first time I ever read Boyle. It was "Greasy Lake" in my high school English class and I was so taken with it that I went to Barnes and Noble that weekend and bought every collection of his short stories, which cost around $80. I remember being worried that I was spending that much but then I went to the car and started reading at stoplights on the way home and forgot all about it.

Trains and Planes
Mike posted on FB that he's going to AWP and staying with Erin in Chicago. I've wanted to go to AWP every year and I was toying with the idea when I saw that Margaret Atwood is the keynote this year. That settled it for me. I signed up to volunteer at the event, to get my registration covered, then I started looking into flights. They were about $350 round trip, which is way more than what I wanted to spend. Then I checked out Amtrak. I ended up booking a train passage, leaving New Orleans on Feb 28 and arriving in Chicago the next day at 9am. (I'm taking a one-way flight back to NOLA that Sunday...still cheaper than round-trip flight). I'm really really excited--I've never been on a train and we're going to go through Memphis. I was thinking about bringing some 1920's lit to read on the ride, until I remembered that I will be deep into the thesis at that point, so fun reading will probably turn out to be something like Halberstam's Female Masculinity. Ah well. Train! Atwood! Friends! Chicago!

dress out

fun party :)

"and its just light enough to see"

This weekend wasn't really super exciting, but it was good enough that I wanted to write it down for the memories.

On Friday, I went out to karaoke with some lady friends. They'd never done karaoke, so everyone was a little shy at first, but by the time the night ended, we were all standing on a couch, shouting Britney Spears, like we were in some shitty rom com. Girl power! (it was awesome.) Afterwards, Alyson and I drove out to River Ridge to pick up Richie's paycheck from his mom and hang out with her for a bit. I got Richie from work, then went to bed while he and Matt partied.

The next morning, I woke up to bring Marla to the vet and found both the boys passed out in the living room, my front door open, an empty bottle of Maker's on the coffee table and a guitar laying on the floor. Neither guy was responsive, so I herded Marla into her kennel and brought her to the vet. Afterwards, I picked up guava pastries from the patisserie for everyone and headed home. I was finally able to drag Richie off the couch and we ate pastry in bed and talked for a few hours until he was sober enough to be out and about. We went to Z'otz and he bought us some coffee. We sat outside and walked around Oak St. for a bit before going thrifting for Halloween stuff. I was digging for something to cut up for my voodoo doll costume and he pulls out this beautiful brown linen dress. It has a very 70's cut and is in wonderful condition. Also, $10. We got gas station fried chicken afterwards and went back home.

This next part may be kind of TMI but it's part of the story and also funny, so bear with me. When we got home, we had some rather intense relations, so much so that when I stood up, the room started spinning and I fell back onto the bed. Richie made some joke about fucking my equilibrium up and we laughed and took a nap.

A couple of hours later, we got up to go to the BBQ and Blues festival. As I was driving there, with Richie and Matt, I started feeling really nauseated and hot. My vision started tunneling. But we were also late, so I started stressing out about finding parking. Richie kept telling me to pull over, but I was intent on finding parking. We finally did and as we were walking to the festival, I started getting dizzy again. I made a comment about feeling like I had vertigo and Richie said, "Sweetie, you need real food. I think it's your blood sugar."

We got to the festival, I ate a poboy, drank a beer and felt better. We danced to Kenny Wayne Shepherd and, at one point, Richie picked me up around the waist and held me in the air. This woman behind him fist-pumped and yelled, "YEAH!" It was kind of a country moment.

Afterwards, we went to Avenue Pub. The guys played pool while I hung out at the jukebox and drank beer. Eventually, Alyson showed up. Janis Joplin's "Try (Just a Little Bit Harder)" came on and I was singing along. Richie commented on it and I said, "If I get really shitfaced, I do an amazing 'Piece of My Heart.'" A little while longer and not nearly enough alcohol later, Richie starts grinning at me as "Piece of My Heart" came on. We started singing it together and generally acting like fools. Afterward, CCR's "Travelin' Band" came on and Richie was positively screaming the lyrics and dancing with me while I buried my head in his shoulder and laughed. He picked me up again and swung me around, to the amusement of other bar patrons and then put me down and said, "I beat you. I'm crazier." 

In the midst of all this, I started to feel sick again. I'd only had two beers, so it wasn't a drunk thing. Alyson accompanied me to the bathroom to puke a few times, but I wasn't to the point where I needed to leave. I just chatted, drank, puked, sang, danced, puked, etc. But things gradually got worse. Richie and Matt were playing pool with these two really weird guys and trying to hurry up and finish because I'd told Richie I was ready to leave. I went to the bathroom to puke again and a girl was standing in there crying. She was looking at her phone and wailing, "WHY DOESN'T HE LOVE ME?" Of course, I felt a little awkward purging, so I walked back out and told Richie I was really really ready to go and that I needed to throw up. Alyson asked what was wrong and I told both of them about the girl. Before I know it, Richie has walked over to the bathroom and cracked it. I looked at Alyson and asked, "Is he really doing this?" Alyson said, "Is that her?" I looked up and the girl walked past. Richie came back and said, "I opened the door and said, 'Excuse me. I know you're upset, but my girlfriend is really sick--not drunk, just sick--and she needs to throw up. I don't want to be an asshole, but could you please step out?" The girl replied, 'IT'S OKAY, YOU ARE AND SO IS HE."

I wasn't able to drive home but, problematically, Richie doesn't have a license and Matt can't drive a stick shift (which is what I'm driving in lieu of my broken car at the moment). I kept trying to say I'd drive, but Richie and Alyson both firmly told me there was no fucking way that was happening (I was leaning on Richie to stay upright by this point). We decided Richie would drive and Alyson would tail us closely. Unfortunately, while in the bar, it had gotten foggy outside. The truck does not have working windshield wipers or a defroster. So Richie is wildly swerving because he can't see out of the windshield and I'm screaming that he's about to hit cars and he's screaming at me to stop screaming at him while Matt is patting my leg and telling me it'll be okay. I spent much of the rest of the drive with my hands over my eyes. I removed them at one point, only to start flailing my hands helplessly, saying, "ohmygodohmygod" while Matt put his arm around me. I calmed down when we got closer to home and we finished out the drive singing "Don't Stop Believin'." I walked in, promptly threw up everything left in my stomach and went to bed.

The next morning, Richie and I woke up early and went to brunch at The Ruby Slipper. On the way home, we stopped so he could look at a potential apartment. It seems pretty perfect, so here's hoping. He went to work after, along with Matt. As much as I enjoy having them there, it was really really nice to have my house to myself again for awhile. I cleaned, made pizza dough, did some sewing and listened to music.

So, all in all, I didn't get anything done that I NEEDED to get done, but I got to destress, which was pretty valuable. Though I may need more of that, since I woke up screaming in the middle of the night last night from a nightmare and cried while watching a video of kittens meowing earlier. All in good time.

mainstream subculture

(posted on FB but saving here for easy-access posterity)

I was leaving Z'otz around midnight. As I was unlocking my bike and tying my ankle-length skirt into a knot, an older white guy with a shaved head approached me.
Him: Hey, uh, you know where I can buy a joint?
Me: No. Sorry.
Him: C'mon. Really? Really?!
Me:...yes. really.*

I'm curious what it was about me that screamed "haver of ze drugs!" to this dude. The bangs? (they do double duty as indicators of my hipsterness and my drug habits.) The nose rings? The bike? Being a mid-20's white girl outside of a vaguely counter-culturey coffeeshop?

My first thought was "cop," but upon further consideration, I wonder if it wasn't just some dude who decided he wanted to try pot. I mean, buy a joint? Really? We're not at Bonnaroo, asshole. I feel like NOPD might be more adept at snaring people, you know? Then again, I guess there probably are some idiots who would pull out their stash and those are easy targets. Either way, it was a good opportunity to continue perfecting my "get away from me" side-eye.

*no, not really. reefer madness, y'all.**
**the last time I bought drugs, I was in high school.