In an instant

I was taking a shower this morning and the phone rang. I didn't hear it. Saw the light blinking on the answering machine a half an hour later. It was my sister. She said to call her immediately because "something bad happened." I called. She didn't answer. I tried again and again and couldn't get through. Finally I reached her. She told me that my dear, sweet, darling, vivacious, young cousin was killed yesterday. In a car crash. I still can't believe it. No one has details. The internet is devoid of information. I could only ask if they were sure it was her. It really can't be true. I know this happens to people. To families. To friends. But it's never happened to me before. I'm in shock. There's nothing I can do. Nothing that will help anything in any event. We keep going on. I'll keep doing things. But she never will. I cannot believe that.

Raising my hand...

I tend to talk out of turn or railroad other parties in a conversation. Alternatively, I am one-shade away from stone-faced silent and am daunting to the rest of the world in my completely-still interpretive dance of "quiet" and, apparently, "aloof." So, do I present accurately to the world? Question open to debate. But not really the point of my post.

Point (after much hemming and hawing): I have been silent the last couple of weeks due to vacation, laziness, lack of internet connection, untimely illness, and lack of anything interesting to say.

Not much has changed except that my vacation is drawing to a close. At the point, I just want to pop in and say hi and note that I am, in fact, still around. And that I am blessed with friends that will always be better than I will ever deserve, but whom I will always be profoundly grateful whether it be through the static of my own incessant babble or my inexplicable wall of random solitude.

Love you guys.

Always.

My beloved city

I'm trying to go to sleep, but I can't stop surfing the internet for the latest news, pictures, anything of my beloved city of New Orleans that is currently sitting underwater. I have received many calls from friends and relatives who all know that I lived there and they are concerned about the city that I loved and my friends who are still there. These conversations have again made vivid what it is that I loved about it and I thought I'd try to describe it here.

New Orleans is a place where meals are consumed with gusto, drinks are drunk all day long, celebrations are big and everything is celebrated -- Halloween, the French Quarter, the classic Mardi Gras, Jazz, food, Art, Music. There is a sense that this could be the last celebration, meal, festival and people engage as if it were their last days on earth. This spirit is not depressing; it's a spirit that is infectious and creates a world that you never really want to leave and that gets in your blood. The weather is hot and muggy, it slows things down and draws the celebrations long into the evening. People of all eclectic backgrounds know each other and frequently socialize. Eccentricity is embraced in all forms. I could go on, but in reading this I'm not doing justice to the place. As it turns out, it is too hard to put into words what makes the city so vibrant.

For me, New Orleans is the scene of so many memories of loves, of laughter, of parties, of people that will never again converge at the same time in the same place & not because of this current tragedy but because it is a fluid place that hold precious moments in time. Watching this disaster is breaking my heart.