We have sort of set a date! I picked March 17th. Later I realized that it was not only St. Patrick's Day, but also my cousin Olivia's (who never reads this blog) anniversary.
I would really like some input on this one. Sat 3/17/07 is the Magazine St. SPD parade. It is super fun! Among other traditional throws, they toss cabbages and potatoes. It would sort of be a travesty to have everyone come here that weekend and miss the parade. What does everyone think about a Sunday wedding? I am asking you all because most of you will be coming in from out of town. If this plan would create obstacles, I would rather not do it.
I have about 14 months, but let me know what you think.
1.27.2006
1.26.2006
We are still here
Yes, it’s true; we haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. We have made a conscious decision to step up the pace and behave like grown ups. Honestly, it smarts a bit, but it’s probably for the best.
Sean has been working like a dawg! He is pretty much gigging and working carpentry jobs all the time. Mostly, he has been playing with the Panorama Jazz Band about three times weekly. Occasionally he plays with the ever popular and always classy AJ and Mark Monistare. As far as the carpentry goes, Grace Baptist has him busy renovating Brother Charlie’s house. This is a blessing. It is nice to work around people that he loves and respects with sweet reciprocity.
I also am finally working. I am the new marketing director of Weddings Noir magazine. It is a small bridal magazine targeted at a multi-cultural audience. I’ve got big plans for it. Hopefully it will be a tremendous success. Most of the time I get to work from home in my slippers, but occasionally I have to dress up and wear big girl shoes.
Ok, guess what! We totally bought a truck. Yes indeed, we are the owners of a 2002 Ford F150. It is so sweet and fancy, and best of all, it will get us all out of town next hurricane season. Yeah, we have been reduced to this kind of thinking.
We reached our breaking point of our fabulously boho hippie life when my alternator broke in the same week that Sean’s (2nd) transmission broke, along with his blinker and windshield wiper handle. I am a little bummed because I had hoped that our imminent fancy car purchase would be a small sensible economical car for ME! Alas, Sean’s truck broke more and first. Therefore, if we can have one good car, it needs to be a truck, and it needs to be capable of holding not only all our stuff, but our little dog family also. If that means we need a gas guzzling road hog, then so be it. I can wait for my mini cooper.
We miss and love all of you. As soon as I can locate some batteries in this town, I will take some pictures of all things fabulous and post them.
Sean has been working like a dawg! He is pretty much gigging and working carpentry jobs all the time. Mostly, he has been playing with the Panorama Jazz Band about three times weekly. Occasionally he plays with the ever popular and always classy AJ and Mark Monistare. As far as the carpentry goes, Grace Baptist has him busy renovating Brother Charlie’s house. This is a blessing. It is nice to work around people that he loves and respects with sweet reciprocity.
I also am finally working. I am the new marketing director of Weddings Noir magazine. It is a small bridal magazine targeted at a multi-cultural audience. I’ve got big plans for it. Hopefully it will be a tremendous success. Most of the time I get to work from home in my slippers, but occasionally I have to dress up and wear big girl shoes.
Ok, guess what! We totally bought a truck. Yes indeed, we are the owners of a 2002 Ford F150. It is so sweet and fancy, and best of all, it will get us all out of town next hurricane season. Yeah, we have been reduced to this kind of thinking.
We reached our breaking point of our fabulously boho hippie life when my alternator broke in the same week that Sean’s (2nd) transmission broke, along with his blinker and windshield wiper handle. I am a little bummed because I had hoped that our imminent fancy car purchase would be a small sensible economical car for ME! Alas, Sean’s truck broke more and first. Therefore, if we can have one good car, it needs to be a truck, and it needs to be capable of holding not only all our stuff, but our little dog family also. If that means we need a gas guzzling road hog, then so be it. I can wait for my mini cooper.
We miss and love all of you. As soon as I can locate some batteries in this town, I will take some pictures of all things fabulous and post them.
1.01.2006
Happy New Year
Last night, Sean and I drove home from a New Year’s Eve party at Cass and Heather’s house in the Fouburg Marigny. We skipped the pilgrimage to the quarter, and went home. We took the long way home, driving through Bayou St. John and Mid City. The annual Orleans Ave. Bonfire was about to begin, but we drove on. Die-hard renegade firework handlers were working their magic under the cloak of fog. There was a moratorium on fireworks this year. It seems that the FEMA blue roofs are not only very flammable, but they actual melt, and drip molten plastic fire into the very homes they guard from exposure to natural elements.
As we left downtown, cars poured in towards the quarter. The parking situation was panicky. The mid city revelers were a little calmer, despite their decision to disregard one of the better temporary laws in the city. It seemed as though the pull of the down-towners was driven by an urge to flush 2005 five with as much synergy as they could possibly muster. The Orleans Ave. group appeared to be driven by a very familiar determination to not let their traditions be killed by Katrina.
None of us really want to give her anything else.
We finally hopped on I10 to head home. The highway was foggy and quiet. I rested my head on Sean’s chest and stared out his (side) rearview mirror. As I looked at the dark and hazy highway disappearing behind us, I considered 2005 and looked at the time. 11:50.
It has been decided by most, that 2005 was the absolutely worst year ever. I argue that the first half was pretty good. If the events of this year, both good and bad, were measured in quantity, I think the good would exceed the bad. Unfortunately, this year, it does seem appropriate to measure by weight. In that case, it might have been the worst year ever.
Sean and I parked behind our house at 11:56 and ran inside. We plopped down on the bed and gathered our dogs around us. We waited 4 minutes for the countdown, and gave each other a sleepy kiss to celebrate the new year. It was a good moment. I felt lucky.
Lucky to be in our home, alive, with our dogs, and our stuff. Lucky to be loved and to love. Lucky to have turned 29 this year, and finally graduated college. Lucky to have amazing friends and family.
This year I want to celebrate all of these things. I want to pour my attention into the things that I am so grateful to have.
Sean was asleep by 12:02, dreaming of a peaceful new year.
By the way, your Christmas cards and gifts have been sent. Sorry about the timing.
As we left downtown, cars poured in towards the quarter. The parking situation was panicky. The mid city revelers were a little calmer, despite their decision to disregard one of the better temporary laws in the city. It seemed as though the pull of the down-towners was driven by an urge to flush 2005 five with as much synergy as they could possibly muster. The Orleans Ave. group appeared to be driven by a very familiar determination to not let their traditions be killed by Katrina.
None of us really want to give her anything else.
We finally hopped on I10 to head home. The highway was foggy and quiet. I rested my head on Sean’s chest and stared out his (side) rearview mirror. As I looked at the dark and hazy highway disappearing behind us, I considered 2005 and looked at the time. 11:50.
It has been decided by most, that 2005 was the absolutely worst year ever. I argue that the first half was pretty good. If the events of this year, both good and bad, were measured in quantity, I think the good would exceed the bad. Unfortunately, this year, it does seem appropriate to measure by weight. In that case, it might have been the worst year ever.
Sean and I parked behind our house at 11:56 and ran inside. We plopped down on the bed and gathered our dogs around us. We waited 4 minutes for the countdown, and gave each other a sleepy kiss to celebrate the new year. It was a good moment. I felt lucky.
Lucky to be in our home, alive, with our dogs, and our stuff. Lucky to be loved and to love. Lucky to have turned 29 this year, and finally graduated college. Lucky to have amazing friends and family.
This year I want to celebrate all of these things. I want to pour my attention into the things that I am so grateful to have.
Sean was asleep by 12:02, dreaming of a peaceful new year.
By the way, your Christmas cards and gifts have been sent. Sorry about the timing.
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