Super Sunday certainly lived up to it’s name today! Super Sunday (the Sunday closest to St. Joseph’s Day, another heavily celebrated day in New Orleans) is the Mardi Gras indians biggest day. They debut their stunning handmade indian outfits and “battle” in the streets of Central City before second-lining through the streets. There are indians from age 3 to age…old, each with intricately hand-sewn headresses, aprons, shoes, and staffs. 

The day includes brass bands, street food, booze (It’s New Orleans, after all!), revelry, hollering, and an astounding number of photographers. For me it also included brunch and a bike ride. 

As per tradition, I gave this indian a few bucks for letting me get a photo with him. Later I saw him hollering and dancing on La Salle Blvd in traditional indian style. I was pretty much the only person there not Instagramming the whole thing, which was odd; even kids and the elderly had their iPhones out, snapping away. 

After two pretty shitty weeks I am ready for something unexpectedly awesome to happen. C’mon world, whatcha got? 

This is how I do Sundays. Well, after mimosas and brunch.

From this article on Thought Catalog about catcalling, and how annoying and insidious it is. A great read for men and women.

“When you want to compliment someone, you approach them as an individual because the point is to make them feel good about being the individual that they are, right? If this is true, then the one-size-fits-all catcall really has nothing to do with being complimentary, and seems to be more about asserting power. When you’re catcalled, you’re caught in a moment of vulnerability: one minute you’re just walking down the street and in complete control of your own life, and the next you’re verbally ambushed by a stranger who forcefully inserts themselves into your life to declare their opinion of your body as if it were definitive, and that feeling of control is gone as quickly as the catcaller.”

Ever since the majority of my friends have had children, my Facebook feed is so boring. It’s all potty training (with photos! ew.), sonogram photos, and “I’m a Mom! Here is an inside joke!” cartoons and status updates. 

Lame. 

When I have kids, I may have to quit Facebook, just in case this is inevitable. Hell, maybe I should quit now. 

Farm visit #selfie. Escorted the John Deere execs to tour a family farm in Montz, LA. The fun stuff!

I love this city, but 2 boil water advisories in less than 6 months is a little crazy. We can host the Super Bowl (insert power outage joke), but we can’t keep the water running and clean? Really, New Orleans, it’s time to get our shit together. 

I guess I’ll do laundry, cook for the week, wash dishes and shower tomorrow morning. 

I now feel legitimized as a Farmers Market Manager. (A gift from the John Deere execs spending a month doing great work with us at market)

The thing about writing is that you have to be ready for what comes out. Until you put pen to paper, you just don’t know. Will it be a comedy or a tragedy? You may end up the villan in a story you remember having gone a different way. The very act of writing is often like exorcising demons, and sometimes those demons are more comfortable just exactly where they are. 

“The hardest thing about writing, is writing.” -Nora Ephron