New Year's Eve and it's hard to believe
another zodiac has gone around.

While you drank yourself high on hoping
and watched the ceiling spin from the ground.

Counting down from ten it's time
to make your annual prayer.

Secret santa in the sky
when will I get my share?

Then you tell yourself
what you want to hear.

Cause you have to believe.

This will be my year.

This will be my year...Semisonic


Go Ahead Punk: E-Mail Little Squaw @ squawpunch@hotmail.com

AIM: gimletgurl7 (Remember when she used to be here?)

Thursday, May 06, 2004

Honeys, I'm home!!!

Fountains of Wayne tomorrow. Will it be tragic or will it be grand? Only the cards will tell...

I had a Fountains of Wayne dream in New Orleans involving Chris and some sort of detailed conversation...

The one thing I like about New Orleans is the food, that and the ever so quaint seediness of it all. Sunday was the last day of Jazz Fest so the town was still crawling with drunken, pot smoking, stinky, sunburned people. They weren't as sunburned as they usually are because it was raining a lot last week. In fact they had to cancel one day of the festival (a first). What always surprises me is how unattractive the majority of the Jazz Fest attendees are (based on my three Jazz Fest Sundays in the past six years)...it's certainly not a Lollapalooza crowd. It's kind of like a cross between the Phish and Brooks and Dunn crowds which is an odd hybrid to say the least.

For some reason I fell in with my friend/co-worker who likes to shop, buys everything on sale, manages to wear only designer clothes (not at all like me! I am all about looking cute on the cheap)and has a weird sort of very independent with very high standards in men (aka they need to have dough) kind of life. It's a lonely life to me. But anyway, after we landed, checked into our hotel, walked over to convention center where a little old red haired lady accosted me (she was guarding the door). Apparently my black jersey skirt, flip flops and powder blue terrycloth zip up jacket (kind of fits like a scuba suit)...well apparently it wasn't "corporate" enough for a Sunday before a tradeshow. So after visiting the booth (massive and slick)...and having hugged and kissed my way through about ten coworkers from various parts of the country...we ended up at the teeny tiny expensive mall...and I was talked into buying a knee length black satin skirt with a slit in the front and those Chinese knot ties on the side. I thought it was way too tight but the sales girl and said friend told me it was perfect and well I bought it and now I have a skirt for the Movie Awards until further notice. She's a bad influence. Our first meal in New Orleans was at Mr. B's with our ex director and one of her new "girls". Where I successfully started my normal New Orleans three day shrimp binge (appetizer and entrée) and my three day dessert binge (profiteroles and chocolate sauce)...

The next day was spent in the booth surrounded by loud music, costume characters of the Fairly Odd Parents (the people inside those are the size of 11 year old children)...and lots and lots of people begging for Al Green tickets.

I had made a 7PM dinner reservation at Emeril's for four (which involved them cross checking my references and apparently them deciding that yes I was worthy to make a reservation)...it was very odd. So my friend AC (one of my nearest and dearest and a bridesmaid to boot) and I went the restaurant in the Warehouse district and proceeded to be wined and dined by three waiters (you get three waiters including on "bun" boy whose job is to serve you rolls)...one of our appetizers was a dish of cornmeal pancakes with American caviar. I always end up eating new things in New Orleans. It's the first place that I ever ate escargot...I also tried Kobe beef for the first time (overrated)...and I may have to kiss Emeril should I ever meet him because his peanut butter chocolate pie and his banana cream pie are pure and utter ecstasy. Strangely enough no shrimp were consumed (though I had had some for lunch)...some Ucon player that just declared for the NBA draft was sitting behind us with a table full of white "suits" looking very endearing and bored. The strange thing was when our head waiter slipped us his card after the meal and told us to request him next time we were there. Very odd.

The Al Green show at the House of Blues was boring. Either that I am tragically tragically jaded. He's a very happy man but his voice reminds me of Otis Redding and the fact that I will never get to hear Otis Redding break my heart in person which makes me very sad...what kills me about those things is that people who are getting fed free drinks are notoriously stingy. I didn't see anyone tipping the girls. One of my close friends tripped on a stair in the upstairs bar where we were and twisted her ankle (she wasn't drinking). She had to go to the emergency room (two actually, she was physically removed by one of our co-workers from the first one when he arrived and saw all the gun shot victims)...she didn't get home until 6AM Tuesday morning.

Tuesday was more of the same in the booth but without the Al Green beggars and the Fairly Odd parents became Patrick the starfish from Sponge Bob Square Pants. Patrick liked to dance to hip hop and kept swatting everyone (male and female) on the ass with one of his pointy arms...he tried to get me to dance with him, don't ask me how a starfish engages you to dance...but I had to tell him that I didn't dig "pink" men. He just wasn't the right color for me. Standing in a booth will make you punch drunk. It's the same place where I once told a Klingon in platform boots and full makeup to scram because he was making me itchy and creeping me out.


And then Shopping Girl and I went to have our cards read at The Bottom of the Cup. Ohhhh...the things to tell. It was my first time. Apparently all my coworkers go there. Have you ever been? I got a 1/2 hour session which set me back $50. (I ran it past Gilly 'cause if you're going to do that you might as well do it in New Orleans)...but you know what I found out? Having your fortune told is fairly boring if you're not experiencing some sort of major conflict in your life. Shopping Girl and I went in with a plan. We removed all our jewelry (I put my signet ring over my wedding ring lines)...and we had no intention of giving them any help or info. The plan was to be stonefaced.

They led us down a hall lined with little curtained booths where I said, "This isn't one of THOSE places is it?" Do you see a pattern? I am smart ass or sarcastic ass or just an ass depending on how you see it...Tamara told me afterwards that the only noise she could hear coming from my room was my giggling. I giggle a lot. I also get distracted while typing epic emails...and use too many elipses.

We started with cards.

I should have prepared a list of questions but we ended up winging it. They tape the session for you (which I am sure is just as embarassing as my Adam interview except instead of talking too much I talked too little)... I was told that someone who loved me was in the room (sure myself! see cynical smart ass - but actually the way I am typing this is a pretty close aproximation as how I would say it)...anyway there was someone there, now I haven't lost anyone of note in over two years (Gilly's grandfather) so I didin't know what she was talking about.

She told me somone was jealous of me at work (who wouldn't be?) and that I worked too much (duh)...that I was great at my job and attention to detail (double duh). She nailed a lot of my personality traits like that I was morally upright which is true I am firm believer in rules and regulations (though there are ones that are meant to be broken)...what was odd was that the same cards kept coming up over and over again no matter who shuffled or dealt. We even went as far as to change decks and the same thing happened again. That's when she asked me if I ever have visions because it appeared that I had psychic powers, hence I was dictating which cards would be drawn. Not to get stupid but my grandmother has had some very strange "premonitions" in her life so I do believe in the sixth sense. She gave me the name of a book to read to sharpen my "skills".

She told me to trust my gut. She figured out that I was married, said that it would be my only marriage and then told me that Gilly and I had been together in a past life. She said that together we were an amazing force.

She also told me that the majority of the people she sees are in unhappy marriages and want to get divorced (which supports my belief that you need conflict to get a good reading)...

Then she told me that she was seeing a W in relation to the person in the room and that's what creeped me out because Gilly's grandfather's name was William.

She told me that I was very creative yet I had a talent that I hadn't even discovered yet. That if I was thinking about pursuing any new things that I should because I would find great success.

The general reading was spot on in regards to where I am in my life at the moment. But in reality it reinforced my belief that gypsies can't help you improve your life. That's something that you do for yourself. I also gain great joy in the fact that I am so fortunate and happy.

That night I went to Emeril's again because Shopping Girl and my friend CT wanted to go and because I had had such a great experience I figured it would give me a chance to dip further into the menu.

It was a completely and totally opposite experience from what I had on Monday night. Horribly slow service (of Hailey's proportion)...and the food tasted mediocre. We had to resort to making napkin puppets (I make a mean pair of rabbit ears) to keep our spirits up...and I think we may have sexually harassed our last waiter Herman because we were so saucy. We ended up slipping him an extra ten dollars under the table because he was the only one who was quick.

I should have used that damn card.

I may have to break up with Emeril.


posted by JustKeepMum on 10:57 PM