My Heart's Lost in New Orleans

I love this town.

I know I've said it before, probably so many times that it's growing tiresome, but it seems that nearly every day I fall in love with it anew. This place, so full of dirt and grime and crime and poverty, gives me hope. I can't express exactly why, but it does.

What a day...what a wonderous, weird, bewitching day. I woke up at Emily's house and made my way to the market, of course, but only picked up a pound of tomatoes, some lettuce and a chocolate croissant. I headed uptown for a facial, completely indulgent but sometimes it's just what we need. From there I raced back to Bywater in time to make it to my favorite breakfast joint for the $3.50 early bird special. I sat on the patio for an hour with my eggs, grits, biscuit and bloody mary, before the rains forced me out. So home I came, played in the compost pile for awhile, and had a drink with the neighbors on the front stoop. The strange thing is that this is all starting to feel normal. Then it was naptime before driving out to Kenner to pick up a returning friend from the airport, and then through Broadmoor back uptown to the Whole Foods on Magazine. After blowing a little too much money on organic dark chocolate ice cream, mint green tea and a still-hot loaf of sourdough, I drove back downtown with the windows open, loving the smell of the rain.

And so here I am, home in my messy kitchen, listening to the dryer and dishwasher as I wait for the storm. I plan to spend my night under the ceiling fan, reading a book and waiting for the unmistakeable sound of Louisiana rain crashing on the roof.
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