Shadow Shot Sunday

Moving is always a crazy time.  It's good, it's happy, it's sad.  It's just crazy.  But it's fun!  It's exciting!  I'm going home!  To the biggest party my beautiful city has ever seen!  To a Black and Gold Superbowl!  To Mardi Gras nine days later!

Good-bye San Francisco.  New Orleans, can't wait to see you!

That's my room mate down there.  Oh wait.  I guess he's not my room mate any more.  Damn.  I have to admit.  I broke down and cried like a... like I can't explain when he gave me his key and hugged me good-bye tonight.  Unfortunately Stone was there to witness the spectacle.  Fabulous.

      

Had a really wonderful last evening in town.  Perfect, probably.  Took a couple of self portraits in the window when I got home.  I thought the light in the hall made the shadow look cool in the glass.  Maybe it was the wine...

              

          

        http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/

I'm really not a whore

But right now, it seems that I am.

I can't seem to commit to a city.  I haven't even left San Francisco yet and I'm already saying things like, "Well, next time I live here, I think I might try living in the East Bay."  What the fuck is wrong with me?  I can change my mind about where I think I belong five times in the course of eight hours.  It's ridiculous.

Anchorage?  Of course!  I would do GREAT there!  Rent is cheap, wilderness is amazing, plenty of bar work.  The men...  Oh.  The men.

New Orleans?  Absolutely!  It's home!  Work? No problem!  Places to live?  Easy!  The food, the music, the Mardi Gras, the crawfish.  The costumes, the dinner parties.  The family.  The Love.  Jazz Fest, Decadence.  All of it.  Every bit.  And again, the men.  Oh, the fucking men.

Honolulu?  Oh yeah.  The beach.  Bar work?  Oh yeah.  I'm thinking tiki bar.  On the beach.  The men?  Seriously though.  Surfers.  Enough said.

New York?  A serious possibility.  That would be amazing.  If all goes well...  Let's all put our thoughts and energy into hoping that happens.  I'll find out about the men and report back.

Oh, and have we even gone into foreign countries?  Let's not.  We don't have time.

San Francisco?  It took a while to be able to say it, but yes.  Oh yes.  But not now.  As they say, I'm about one Muni ride away from landing my ass in jail for assault.  These people.  Oh, these fucking people sometimes.  I can't take it.  Not right now.  Better to love it from afar.  Come visit,  Hurricane Wanderlust blows into town for a week, Love Love Love, eat, drink, be merry, then OUT.  Bye bye.  See you soon.

I will really miss it here.  The food. The wine.  The cocktails.  The farmer's market.  The neighborhood, not just mine, all of them.  The nature.  The hiking.  The beach.  The oysters.  The North Bay, the South Bay, the East Bay.  The Peninsula.  Big Sur.  The stunning, mind-blowing, jaw-dropping natural beauty that is EVERY FUCKING WHERE.  My friends.  My wonderful, beautiful, incredible family of friends.

The men?  Not so much.  Four and a half years, and I only found three people worth my time.  Only one made it to round two, and he didn't even make round three.  I had to leave town to get laid.  What the fuck is that all about?  Good thing I like to travel a lot.

There's a lot to not miss about this place, actually.  Just like anywhere.  We'll get into all that another time.  Right now I'm in Deep Love with San Francisco, mainly because I'm leaving town in a matter of hours now.  But do remind me to tell you The Story About The Jumper Cables one day...

Good sign

Holy shit!  Whose fucking apartment is THAT?  It's a fucking mess!  What?  MINE?  No way.  I don't even recognize it.  Where's my big, beautiful, beloved couch?  Most comfortable couch ever?  

Oh yeah.  Those guys from craigslist came and got it.

Where's that crappy table and even crappier computer desk that Justin gave me?

Oh yeah.  Jen took them the other night.

Where's... all the rest of my shit?

Oh yeah.  I brought it to Goodwill.

I'm actually feeling pretty good about this move, even though I have to leave Sunday morning and all that stuff still has to go in my car.  Feeling pretty good, because the other day when I went to the Goodwill to drop off all that shit, I got an awesome parking spot two cars behind this one:

               

See?  Everything's going to be fine.  On my way home.  Just in time for Superbowl.  Who dat!

You've got to be fucking kidding...

Seriously though.  I thought this was a joke when I first heard about it.  But no.

Oh come on!

  I don't even know what to say about that.  I would write the NFL an angry letter, but I really don't have time right now.

Instant replay

That's what's been happening in my brain all week.  I keep going over it, again and again.  Can't stop thinking about it.  The Moment.  When we realized that the kick was good and we were going to the Superbowl.  The screams of pure unadulterated joy, blended with a double shot of disbelief.  Everyone grabbing everyone else, friends, strangers, didn't matter.  Hugging, kissing, crying, everyone screaming,

"Holy shit!  Holy shit!  Holy shit holy shit HOLY SHIT!!"

The waves of joy keep washing over me like a fucking tsunami.  This feeling, it's completely brand new to us.  The feeling of knowing that your team, YOUR TEAM, is going to the Superbowl.  Completely uncharted territory for each and every one of us.  It's great.  I like it.  I want more.

I'm not going to try to explain how deep the connection is between this city and this football team.  There have been so many articles about that floating around ESPN.com, NFL.com, etc. that it's exhausting.  If you're reading this and you're from South Louisiana, there's nothing to explain.

It's an unforgettable feeling, this moment we're all in right now.  Ten more days to ride this wave, Who Dats.  Hang on and enjoy the ride!  WHO DAT SAID DEY GONNA BEAT DEM SAINTS!! WHO DAT!! WHO DAT!!

Loudest venue in the NFL

But we already knew that.  Remember 119 decibals?

Saints fans are loud.  Really loud.  Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Black Magic Voodoo Lounge in San Francisco after the Saints scored their first touchdown in yesterday's glorious win:




Yeah. Saints fans are loud. WHO DAT!!

WHO DAT!!

We got our Christmas wish!  It's gonna be a Black and Gold Superbowl!  Yeah you right!!

Holy shit.  Un-fucking-believable.  Forty-two years New Orleans has waited, suffered.  I myself spent many a painful afternoon in the Dome, enduring crushing loss after crushing loss.  Four long years I held season tickets.  Never made the playoffs once in those four years.  Never even came close.  I was, however, at that magical playoff game in 2001, when the Saints had their first ever playoff win.  That was the craziest I've seen the Dome in all my years as a who dat.  Last night?  I can't even imagine.

What a fucking game.  I really thought they were trying to kill Brett Favre for a minute there.

Here in San Francisco, the Black Magic Voodoo Lounge was like I'd never seen it before.  We screamed.  We yelled.  We hugged.  We kissed.  We cried.  We danced.  Oh, did we dance.  But you had probably guessed that already, huh?  We're from New Orleans.  Dancing is what we do.  We can't help ourselves.

I can't stop watching this video.  It brings tears to my eyes every time.  Especially when they start second lining down the street, about a minute and a half in.

Saints Video: Bourbon Street

  The headline to the article said that the celebration in the French Quarter was "like Mardi Gras on Red Bull."  Oh, how I wish I could have been there!

But I'm leaving San Francisco.  Moving home.  Just in time.  I drive out on the 31st.  I'll be home for the Black and Gold Superbowl.  I will be in my beloved city on the most important day in her recent history.  Yeah you right!

  

Still got it.  Never lost it.  WHO DAT!!

Shadow Shot Sunday

San Francisco, CA
Baker Beach

Children playing on a Saturday afternoon, just in time for Shadow Shot Sunday!

          

                                            

                              

                  
             Shadow Shot Sunday                             

WHO DAT!!

Big game tomorrow.  Forecast looks good...

                      

Yeah you right.  We'll be at the Black Magic Voodoo Lounge, with the Black and Gold Patrol.  WHO DAT!!

                        

Eye Candy

San Francisco Gay Pride Parade, June 2009

          

        

        

Careful what you leave on your coffee table...

So I was just sitting around here, looking at my apartment, which is a mess because I'm in the middle of moving, and a thought occurred.  If I died today, right now even, what would people going through my apartment think?  Especially people who didn't know me very well, maybe even people who were trying to learn a little bit about me through my belongings.  How accurate would their conclusions be?

They would correctly assume that I like to wear wigs and dress up in costumes.  They would wonder who that guy is in all those pictures, probably figure it's my boyfriend.  Not really.  It's Janson.  Remember Janson?

Would they understand that the Sizzler thing is an inside joke between me and Adriana and Alika and that the last time I was in Hawaii Alika gave me those coupons to bring back to Adriana as a "present" and I keep forgetting to give them to her?  No, they would probably just think I was broke and really liked Sizzler.

They'd say, "Well, we should throw out this dingy old hair tie" not realizing that Laurette left it at my house last time she was in from Ireland and I've carried it with me to three different apartments because when I see it on the table I think of her and smile.

They would realize I love New Orleans.  A lot.  If they weren't from New Orleans, they would wonder why the fuck I have a coconut, all decorated and painted with the words "Zulu 1998" on my table.

They would definitely know a Saints fan lived here.  A New York Rangers hockey fan, too.

They would incorrectly assume I was a musician, from all the instruments and sheet music in the corner.  They would correctly assume that I go to a lot of live shows, from all the concert posters on my wall.

The photos and browser history on this computer would make my life more or less an open book.  I would hope they wouldn't go to the trouble of hacking my password on my other laptop so they could see all my fucked up stories and mean shit I've written about other people.  Not to mention all the nasty porn that's on there. Speaking of which...

That little, ahh... bag of tricks, shall we say, that's under my bed?  Please don't go in there.  I know that you will, though.  You won't be able to help yourself.  Hopefully it's all stuff you've seen before.  Although let me just say right now, for the record:  That girl in that picture whose face you can't see?  It's not me.  I was, however, the person holding the camera...

Wanderlust...

Paucartambo, Peru
August, 2009


Tiny little town right on the Rio Paucartambo.  I'm unclear on which came first, the town or the river.  Beautiful place.  Stopped for lunch on the way out to the Amazon.  They have a big, Mardi Gras style festival every year in July, Fiesta de la Virgen del Carmen.  Complete with costumes, parades, and parties in the streets.  Need to make it back for that someday...

                  

                            

Goodbye?

Not really.  More like, see you soon.  I'll be back in June, for that wedding.

      

Probably going to miss it here more than I realize.  Four and half years.  It's all coming to an end.  Ten days left.  Ten days!  What the fuck am I doing sitting around here writing stupid shit on the internet?  I should be out pie-rootin' the streets, drinking, dancing, eating, LIVING!

Wait a minute.  It's cold out there.  It's raining, too.  Maybe I'll just sit around here for tonight, writing stupid shit on the internet.  I'll be back for that wedding in June, anyway...

Shadow Shot Sunday

 Central Park, NY

 It wasn't really all that cold, even though the water was frozen.

                  

            

                  

       Shadow Shot Sunday

Dining!

 Daly City, CA

    

It might be America's Deadliest Corner.  I mean, right next door to each other?  That's a heart attack waiting to happen.  We had to stop.

The menu, brilliant in it's simplicity:

              

Really.  What more do you need?

                    

                                                                Dessert, maybe?

                        
The fucked up part is, it's on the way to the DMV.  How the hell are you supposed to stay awake at the DMV when you're in a food coma?  Someone needs to open up a Peet's or something across the street...

                            

WHO DAT!!

One hell of a game.  Did you see that score?  45-14?  The Black Magic Voodoo Lounge was out of control.  So many people the party spilled out onto the street.  Someone brought Zapps spicy crawtators and a king cake.  It's fun to be a Saints fan in San Francisco!

I'm enjoying the deafening silence from all the non-believers we've been hearing from for the past two weeks.  All those smug statistics they kept throwing our way.  Blah blah blah.  Eat a big bag of monkey dicks!  Who dat wearin' dat black and gold?   Breesus saves!  Yeah you right!

Eye Candy

Hawaii, November 2009

Saw these girls on the north shore of Oahu.

Let's take a closer look, shall we?

                    

Very nice.  Mahalo, ladies!

Shadow Shot Sunday

Kamaole Beach
Maui, Oct. 2009

      Shadow Shot Sunday

Mirror, mirror

I got a little restless on Christmas day.  So I grabbed my friend and made him pose in front of the mirror with me until HE got restless and said, "Enough already!  I need another fucking drink!"  This is what I came up with before he escaped...

                      

                     
Happy happy, merry merry.

Happy hour

Did we get the crispy pig ears?  Well, of course we did.  You don't see that sort of thing on a menu and not order it.  They were all right.  Nothing to blow your mind.  A little like calamari, maybe, but not as firm.  Or delicious.  Everything else was great.  Oysters, charcuterie.  Oh yeah.

The bartender mixed up one hell of an absinthe suisse...

                

I shall return.  The dinner menu needs to be investigated.   http://www.lukeneworleans.com/
        

Shadow Shot Sunday

New Orleans, LA

This city has a never-ending supply of funky houses with funky shadows to run around and take pictures of.  I love it.  Found these on Royal St. in the Bywater. 

             

                                                    

   Shadow Shot Sunday

Down by the river

New Year's Eve.  It was... I don't know if I can find a word.  Let me try to explain.

First dinner.  Lamb, lobster.  Champagne.  Blah blah blah.  Whatever.  It's more about what happened after dinner.

We decided to stay in the neighborhood that night.  Sure as fuck didn't feel like dealing with that French Quarter mess.  Especially with the Sugar Bowl in town.

After dinner, we wanted to see the fireworks.  So we went down to the river.  It's only two blocks away.

First, we had to climb over the flood wall.

We developed a system for the cocktails.  Pass 'em up, people.

                                    

I can't say it was a perfect system.  Delaney trusted in the system and got fucked.  Ended up having to share a glass of champagne with me.  But that's OK.  I love Delaney.

All right.  So we made it over.

Then we had a train to contend with.  Up and over the train, people...

              

                                                

                                The fireworks had just started.

            

It was a lot of work.  But once we were all up and over, cocktails in hand, we had the whole river to ourselves.

                  

Still trying to find a word.  Magic?  No, that's not quite right.  Mystic?  Maybe.  Perfect?  Yes.

Happy New Year, everyone.  May 2010 bring you all the love and joy you can possibly stand.  Yeah you right!