Excuse me, I think you have something on your face...
Oh. Right. It's ash wed.
Doh.
One of these years I'll remember.

Yet another perk of atheism- I do/eat/drink whatever the hell I want for the next 40 days, and don't feel guilty about it. ;P

So... When I first moved here I dated this guy for like a minute. Nothing really came of it. But he is, I guess, a "tit man" if you will... And the few times I've talked to/seen him since then, there are always boob comments. Well yesterday he saw my message on myspace inviting people to come out. And he took me up on it. Which is cool, he's a pretty good guy and I hadn't seen him in a long time. But I sort of meant "if you're out with your friends, come say hi to me and my friends." But instead he said "ok... well i'm leaving now, will be at your place soon." Oh.... ok? Not sure what his intentions were, but given the... traditions... of mardi gras, I imagine he thought his chances at seeing tits (mine or otherwise) were higher. In any case, he came over, we had a couple beers, then met (e:ladycroft) et al out. It was fun. Voice of reason made me come home by midnight-ish, rather than stay out late like I wanted to. But in any case, he brought me home and we watched some simpsons and listened to music. Then he said "let's put you to bed." And then "I can't drive home." So he put me to bed. And then joined me. And we slept. And spooned a little. And that was it. And it was perfect. Just what I needed. No awkward moment of having to tell him to stop... (though I'm not sure if I'm impressed or insulted that he didn't make any moves,- I mean hell, I was drunk and he was in my bed. ha). And I found myself thinking- regardless of sex/relationships/drama/bullshit- it just feels so damn good to be in someone's arms. Even (especially?) when totally platonic. A hug... a hand on yours... simple human contact. So lovely. And one of those things that you can forget so easily... until reminded of what you're missing.

So that was my mardi gras... but it got me thinking back to New Orleans... what a neat city. Dirty and poor and fucked up, no doubt, and not a place I could spend my life, but I'm so glad to have had a few years down there. It's really like nowhere else. And Buffalo's mardi gras is supposedly the 3rd biggest in the country- well it still doesn't hold a candle. (No offense, buffalo.) Mardi gras is crazy down there. It's 2 weeks of parties. But the focus is the parades. Yeah there's bourbon street and tits, but that part is gross. The parades are the shit. 3-4 a night for two weeks. Being in a parade is a big deal. Most of them are a big "society" thing, with balls and all. But there are a few you can buy your way into. Our last year a few of my friends joined a krewe- aside from dues, they had to buy their own throws (beads)- $1000 each. In plastic beads. Per person. And there are, I dunno, 20 people per float? And 40 floats in some of the big parades. And these floats are no joke... they spend ALL YEAR building them.
It's amazing to me how crazy people will go over worthless plastic trinkets. People joke that that is why new orleans is sinking- because everyone's attics are full of beads. Oh, and paying money for beads is a sure sign of being a tourist. You can get PLENTY on your own. Even without flashing. Just yell 'throw me something mister" as they roll by, and you'll do just fine. And if you get shitty beads (small/short), you throw them at the tubas.

And fat tuesday itself- the final parades, Rex and Zulu, start at 8:30am. I only made it once. And the zulu coconut is the most coveted of all mardi gras throws... They take their religion seriously down there. At midnight the party is OVER. Lent has begun. Cops ride down Bourbon street on horseback and break things up. It's amazing.

And one other random bit of trivia- new orleans judges the success of mardi gras by the tons of trash generated. It's so nonstop crowded in the quarter that they can't really clean up for days at a time... you are wading through piss/vomit/beer and crushed plastic cups... yeah, sexy. You need a dedicated pair of shoes you are willing to part with.

Ah, waxing nostalgic...

Here are some old (and new) pix. I wish I had more, but it's hard to carry a camera around.


My house in New Orleans. It was awesome. Huge, and falling apart. 6 fireplaces, chandeliers, a balcony... 2" roaches, I mean "palmetto bugs" (like that makes them "cute" or something).


The court of one of the parades. They always reminded me a little of the KKK and were kind of scary.


See what I mean? Kind of scary.


This guy is a "flambeau". They are guys, usually black, who march with the parades, sweating their balls off, carrying these huge propane torches. You are supposed throw change to them.


One of the floats- "Cirrhosis: Bacchus's Less Attractive Brother"


Yeah, that's about what it feels like.




One parade. No flashing. I swear.


About the closest I have come to flashing.


Some poor unsuspecting boy at Coles got his ass grabbed by (e:kaerains)


Timika and Craig, who looks very evil. (he's not an (e:strip)per- I almost feel like I need to black his eyes out of the pic or something!)


Name that bathroom!

'Night kids!
-J