Five Days in New Orleans

Sorry for the silence! After five days in New Orleans with Kristen, my sinuses freaked out and I was busy back at work, so, Tumblrs, sorry, you took a back seat. BUT! New Orleans is an amazing city. When Tennessee Williams said “There are only 3 cities in America, New York, San Francisco, and New Orleans. Everywhere else is Cleveland,” he was not lying. So much history and art and music. The architecture is beautiful there. I was astonished. It’s also one of the most haunted cities in America. It’s ALSO cheap as hell. My beer at the hotel bar was $7.50 (RIGHT?). 

Kristen and I went on a ghost tour, got lots of beads (it was the verrrrry beginning of Mardi Gras), went to Frenchmen Street, drank Hurricanes at Pat O’Briens where they were invented, saw the shitshow that was Bourdon Street, got very sloshed at times, went to Cafe Du Monde for the coffee, listened to jazz at Spotted Cat, and ate lots of amazing food (Herbsaint and Three Muses – GO). And we walked an entire parade route down Dauphine Street (we only caught up the tail end of it, unfortunately) and saw lots of the Bywater.

When I was on my own, I went into the Louisiana and New Orleans #1 Cemeteries (saw Marie Laveaus’ grave), I went to the World War II Memorial Museum, walked around the French Quarter, the Frenchmarket, and the Warehouse District lots. I drank a $3.50 Shocktop (not happy hour, that’s just the regular price, WHAT). I went to one of the Louisiana State Museums to exhibits on Katrina and Mardi Gras, I went to a yoga class at Reyn Yoga when I was incredibly hung over. I walked up and down Royal Street in the French Quarter a bunch of times listening to the music. I spent a bunch of time in Jackson Square people watching (and listening to music). I ate at the Ruby Slipper and Sylvain (both were awesome!). 

For the first time ever I didn’t really buy any souvenirs. I just didn’t feel like I needed any. I brought coffee back for my office and pralines back for my parents, and lots of beads, but that’s it. 

The people were incredibly nice and there’s so much to do there. I was sad to leave the seventy degree whether for twenty degree weather, but I was exhausted. If you’re going to NOLA, go for 4-5 days for your first time. You’ll never be bored but it won’t be too much. LOTS of pictures below the cut…

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The Ego & the Dance Class

I took dance classes through out most of grade school. Tap, ballet, and jazz. I liked ballet the most, but I was never that graceful (and I’m still not). And that’s fine. I can dance freestyle in a bar, so I thought I’d have l least some skills in a traditional dance class… because I was never that awful in grade school in my jazz classes. 

Last Monday, the company I work for paid for a theatre dance class for anyone who was interested in taking it. I thought it seemed fun and I signed up. I was discouraged when I’d forgotten my old ballet shoes, but I forged ahead in socks (I would’ve danced barefoot, but the floors seemed a bit splintery).

The warm up was just fine, but as soon as we started learning a quick two-minute routine to The Wiz’s “Ease on Down the Road” and everything went to shit.

Like, total, absolute shit. I had no idea that I was so uncoordinated. Yes, we were being taught the steps in a much quicker fashion than if this was a year-long class preparing for an end-of-the-year recital, but still: goddamn.

I almost walked out in the middle. I almost said screw it and went to my usual yoga class. But I didn’t. I stayed and embarrassed myself. Though I don’t know that anyone was watching because I know that I sure as hell was watching the best person in the group when we were split into two group, not the worst. 

I realized that I take myself way too seriously. I couldn’t just enjoy the (free) class and laugh at myself in this instance. This isn’t the worst thing in the world because I often make jokes at my own expense, but I just felt like a jackass because I had higher expectations, I suppose.

If I really wanted to, I could blame it on not wearing the proper shoes. That very well could’ve been it. Or it’s just the fact that I can’t dance anymore! Ten years out of the saddle might do that to someone.

That said: I’m not taking another dance class, ever. I’ll stick to yoga, thankyouverymuch.