A Day With Myself/A Night With Friends

The way yesterday worked out makes it feel like 2 separate days; one quite, warm, and cloudy, the other loud, dark, full of laughter.

I ended up rousing myself around 10am but because of her awful night scheduling Amanda would not be joining the realm of the living for another 5 hours. I figured I should acclimate myself to the surroundings, since I this would not be my only time by myself, and what better way to do that than to get lost. With nothing more than a crudely drawn map on a napkin, some cash, and my camera I set off into the heart of the neighboring French Quarter. The day was hot and humid, like all the others, but an overcast of dark storm clouds helped to slow my perspiration. I found the people I saw on the street much more interesting than the hodge-podge of colorful and cluttered building and sought to make them the focus of my pictures that day. I used almost a whole roll of film but I'm still not exactly sure who or what I shot. During my mid-exploration coffee break I sat at a table next to a terribly thin old man who sported a gigantic white beard, no sleeves, and a top hat covered in eyes. Despite the sunny weather his uncovered skin was bleach white and his tiny eyes shone an intense blue between his white facial hair and the black brim of his hat. He was obviously some kind of street performer and looked like he had crawled right out of the bayou; a look I'm sure he was going for. I wanted to take a picture of him but, like all the others, I was too shy to ask his permission and didn't think myself stealthy enough to sneak a shot that would probably turn out overexposed or out of focus.
I made a big circle around the distract, picked up some shaving cream and razors, and on my way back home overshot the house and proceeded to get lost in the Marigny, an area that my map did not cover. My sense of direction would not be dishonored by asking directions though. This was a much more exciting way to map the city out in my head anyways. The neighborhood was nice enough, with every other house painted a new neon or fluorescent color. Had I been an epileptic in a car I may have had a seizure. They should really put up some caution signs about that.

Back at the house I hung out with Willy some more until 2:30; the predetermined time to kick Amanda's ass out of bed. Eventually, after she used the computer, got ready, made food, we were off for the evening. But first a stop at the Verizon store to buy Amanda a new phone. Then a terrifying drive back across town as I had to assume the role of back seat drivers as Amanda excitedly played with her new phone. While living in NC most of the terrible drivers I had to deal with were from SC but I had no idea about New Orleans. I think it would actually be more dangerous to be a good driver here as most people from the area "learn to drive with a beer between their legs." At least if you fuck up everyone else does too so it balances things out. Several times I've seen the number of lanes on a road be determined only by how daring the people on it are.

This is where the real fun of the evening began but I have to leave for a business meeting and will let you all hang on the edge of your seat, as I'm sure you are, until I return.