I only brought my phone to Louisiana. so I can't babble about the photos as efficiently as I'd like to. maybe I'll do lots of lil posts instead. maybe tomorrow.
a couple things about new orleans so far:
1. I am reminded anew of how, well, CRAPPY northwestern guys are. there are many positive things to be said about making women feel attractive! I am a fan of humorous lechery! i forgot what it was like to be looked up and down, to be whistled at, to have some guy bike past me slowly enough for him to conversationally compliment my hair and slowly enough for me to then thank him very much. some dude even called me "mama." he promptly followed that with a request for change, but seattle's been such an asexual mindfuck that I'll happily tolerate what I can get.
2. it smells pretty bad here. there is a LOT of garbage, most of it bagged in curbside piles. it smells like vomit and funky hot dogs and piss and sweat. the French quarter, of course, is by far the worst, but it was pretty fetid everywhere.
3. the first song I heard on random-letter shuffle on the ride from the airport: Air "Kelly watch the stars." second song: Los Lobos "kiko and the lavender moon." third song: Budos Band "king cobra." that was the perfect soundtrack. I turned it off before the despairing Porcupine Tree song came on.
4. my hotel is immaculate (I neurotically tore the sheets apart and pulled the bed away from the wall, searching for vermin; there are none, thank FUCK) but my room is very small. and dark. the unopenable window is made of that glass brick you sometimes see in 80s malls. I heard an argument in the hallway about "bitches" (theirs) but otherwise it's been quite serene. and it's the best water pressure I've had in months.
5. I saw a woman yanking along her filthy three-legged unneutered pit bull. he was carrying a 4' stick in his mouth. it was actually kind of funny. he almost tripped a whole group of people.
I get very insipid on 3 hrs of sleep.
the photos:
-faubourg marigny.
-amazing benches in Jackson square park- so democratic, a whole orphanage can sleep on them! and yet no one was. it makes me mortified for seattle's nimby nanny-state bullshit.
-saucing a huge-ass po' boy at the oyster festival I wandered into.
-I am rather warm and sleep deprived. not my best. but the climate feels blissful. lusty.
-an abandoned house, faubourg marigny.
-N Rampart St.
-Frenchman St.
-another vacant place, the French Quarter.
-my fucking delicious touristy elixir. i drank it whilst typing this.
-lots of oysters.
-people made this theirs.
-French Quarter.
-a super rad drinking fountain! this totally pleases me! it tries to fit everyone!
-fire escapes.... swoon.
-local sodas, French Market.
-poster pole! Frenchman St.
-scintillating Denver, CO. (the phone, as I've mentioned before, loads these all cattywampusy, even though I select them chronologically.) I had 15 minutes in Denver, long enough to run across the entire A terminal (it's big), watch an adult woman lazily eat an ice cream cone while STANDING on the moving sidewalk, and feel milliseconds of heat from the sliver between the gate and the plane. Denver looked pretty grim, though. it's so funny to see how airports propel the clichés of their bergs. seattle has the fucking fish (and huge racks of aplets & cotlets); anchorage has ulus and moose; louisiana has non-grammatical vapidities and mardi gras; Denver has grills and ranches.
-more shotguns, baby.
-grilling oysters. it smelled FUCKING AMAZING.
-Balcony Music Club, Esplanade. this random group was playing standards, turned into bluegrass. they were awesome...
tomorrow: uptown.
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