Unfortunately, I've lost too many brain cells to make it interesting.
A great Fat Tuesday, yesterday--even though it was a little short for me. There was very little costume trauma in the house, and we were all ready to join the Society of St. Anne walking parade when it came by the house at 11:00am.
Things started off cloudy, but by the time we'd gotten just a few blocks down the street, the sun was out, and it stayed out all day. I've got the sunburn to prove it. Good thing I worked that Suzie Wong parasol into my outfit--although next year, I gotta manage the accessories a little better. As it was, I felt like a three-dollar whore juggling parasol, handbag, cocktail, and lit cigarette.
After the parade, we wandered over to Josephine's house for a little refreshment. She had a huge king cake on hand, cut into slices. Of course, I landed the baby on my first piece. I slipped it discreetly into my bag, and no one was the wiser.
Around 4:00pm I went home to take a little nap and wound up sleeping 'till 11:00pm. Oops. I'd wanted to join my friends for dinner. Oh well.
Going back out wasn't an option--by that time of night, the energy in Quarter tends to be a little weird. With a full day of drinking and doing drugs, most people cross over by sundown. Folks in bars are simultaneously sloppy and frantic. Not fun. So instead, I read 50 more pages of Cousin Bette and intermittently watched the broadcast of the meeting of Rex and Comus--a sure sign that the end was drawing near.
Unfortunately, none of us brought cameras yesterday. No one wanted to carry one, and none of us had pockets. Our outfits were a little, um, skimpy. Even my purse was skimpy. I had room for a couple of packs of American Spirit, a lighter, cash, and my id. I had to shove the phone down my speedo. (Yes, I set it to "vibrate.")
Luckily, there were a few people who managed to bust out the Nikons.
