 Parading |
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I'm writing this on a Sunday night after a full weekend. I had to work this afternoon/evening, but let's not speak of that. Daisy is being very cute and resting her head on my knee. When I got Daisy in July of 1999, they told me she was about six months old, so I estimate her birthday as being some time in February, even though really who the hell knows? I can't believe this baby is seven years old. She is still so spastic and maniacal sometimes, but mostly she just wants to curl up on the little pillow on top of her crate and let out really cute sleepy sighs. Sometimes I think about dog life spans, and having never had one until Daisy, I don't know if seven is starting to be old or not. It doesn't feel like it. I love her, even when she yelps like she's being tortured or killed when I wrestle her front paws into her sweater, and I love to kiss her on her head, which always smells nice. Anyway. I drove to the big city on Friday night. We started Forbidden Games, but I couldn't stay awake so we bailed on it. Plus, it was really kind of depressing. I will try to finish it soon. I love Netflix, I really do, but it definitely cuts back on my time spent reading actual books because so much of my free time is spent plowing through the DVDs. Right now I'm starting Party of Five season two, but there are movies I want to see and the first season of Grey's Anatomy comes out this week, of which I've seen none, so I am conflicted. We woke up early on Saturday morning and headed to La Boulangerie for a white chocolate raspberry scone and some kind of bacon and cheese and jalapeno concoction on a pastry. Some dude was in there singing and playing a ukulele. We played a game of Scrabble and headed out to a pre-parade gathering where we ate some boiled crawfish and my favorite parts of crawfish boils which are the potatoes and corn on the cob. It was already getting really cold outside and we braced ourselves for what it would feel like once the sun went down. We organized our throws (beads and assorted themed trinkets) into shoulder bags and backpacks and donned our costumes and headed downtown. We worked pretty hard on our costumes, and I think they turned out nicely. We froze on the street corner for a few minutes before finally jumping into a cab. Thank God that we brought his black scarf that I could wrap around my head like the virgin Mary in a skeleton costume or my ears might have shattered into pieces. We gathered with the other marchers and made our way to the starting point. There was lots of hopping up and down and dancing to try to keep our blood circulating. Luckily we had some great musicians marching right in front of us who made us want to keep movin' and groovin' and not lie down and pray for death from the cold. Once we started going, I threw my beads and other throws quite spastically at first. I had no idea how to pace myself and how much to throw at the beginning and how much to save. Right away, I noticed that there seemed to be a good number of people out for the parade. It was surprising not only because of the depleted population of the city but because it was definitely the coldest night we've had this winter. I realize that we live in a place where winter should really be written as "winter," but it had to have been way below freezing with that wind chill. But people were definitely out. Grandparents and tourists and little kids, and it was really pretty great. They would shout, "HAPPY MARDI GRAS, HAPPY MARDI GRAS!" at us and compliment our costumes. Most of the spectators were really quite nice and excited and gracious. Some were rude and grabby and horrible and made me feel kind of anxious when they would actually try to rip beads from my arms, but I choose not to dwell on them. It was just fantastic to see everyone dancing in the streets and how the little kids' eyes would light up when we gave them beads or other little trinkets, especially a fist-sized rubber skull with this red goo in the eyes and mouth that shoots out in little bubbles from the orifices when you squeeze it. God, the little boys loved those things. By the time it was all over, we were sore and achy and exhausted and sat in the darkness of the balcony of the theater where the after-party was and took little sips of whiskey out of a flask, snacked on a Luna Bar, and called it a night. This morning we played another game of Scrabble and ate monkey bread -- renamed love monkey bread in pre-honor of Valentine's Day. 
That'd be our governor up front there.
My boyfriend and I get ready to march. His skeleton mask was obviously superior to mine.
A reference to the new blue tarp culture of the city.
The foxiest skeleton on the block.
Mmmmmm.
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About this time in ...
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