December 24-25. 2001 : : ChristmasTime in New Orleans

Sunday night...so sleepy. Missed hours of sleep finally caught up with me, so after a sweet (as always) chat with my cybercompanion, i took my book to bed about 9pm. read about...um...4 words. Then slept for 10 hours. Awoke lazily. i love that. not having to rush out and drive in the dark, chaffeuring Betsy...luckily she will not have zero hour next semester!! Yippee!! i wonder if she thinks i will still drive her every morning?

Awakened to a phone call, a soothing slow quiet voice that i listened to until the cell battery died a painful death. Otherwise maybe forever. Late now. No coffee. And when did i eat last? Oh yes...the crawfish etouffee at Rita's. yum! But the nastiest excuse for a salad i had EVER had...argck. Couldn't tell if i were really ready to eat yet, or wait until later. Knew i wanted coffee, but not at somewhere i had already been. So i wandered out into the day, armed with camera, prepared for new sights in once-again beautiful light. Suddenly i smelled greasy fried potatoes and eggs and was drawn in to the Clover Grill. It is across the street from a hotel Debbie and i stayed once, Biscuit Palace, but we never came in, although we would sit on our balcony and watch the characters coming and going. It's reputedly great for big greasy post-bar food, 'specially post-gaybar....heh.

In i went! It was very tiny and crowded. Only one stool left at the counter, so i squished myself between a local man and the woman-part of a brave tourist couple. Another first for me...sitting at the counter and bravely pushing myself into the last empty place. ohgod it was worth it. The whole experience was a treat. The clientele mostly local gay men with a few couples, brave tourists, or locals who just loved the enormous fried breakfasts. The counter waiter...the ONLY waiter actually, was a beautiful silly queen, who chatted non-stop. i would have stayed there with him all day. i definitely didn't need to open a book, he was so much fun. Or i coulda watched the captioned tv talkshows...the food was awesome. i ate like a pig, monster cheese and tomato omelet, hashbrowns AND grits....yes BOTH, so i only am eating once a day, on a budget!! i knew this would last at least 36 hours. As if sitting there listening to the banter wasn't jolly enough, a man decided to get the juke box going...diva time! Stunning moments of silly joy, sitting in the gay grill, listening to banter all around and participating in the same, eating grease and hearing the long version of "I Will Survive" at full volume. Heaven. You would have to be there, i guess. But it was just another fragment of a long lovely day, starting with that voice. i hated to leave, but time to see what's next on this non-traditional Christmas Eve.

i realized i was at the end of land and had not yet been to see the water. So i went. There it was! With the gulls, the tourist steamboat whistling, shiny red paddle flipping the brown water. Big ships in the distance. A barge sliding past, pushed by the tiny tugboat. And there is the big bridge that i was lost on when i arrived!

Pleasant to walk along the river, bustling and touristy, panhandlers attempting entertainment hoping for a few quarters. Casinos and the big aquarium.

i found myself in the big downtown. Fancy shopping, etc. not really a destination, so i just walked through. turned back into the Quarter, through some desolate areas that i would not have wandered at night...suddenly i realized exactly where i was headed. St. Louis Cemetery. The oldest in New Orleans. i've only seen it from the street and was told it was "dangerous" i should not go alone and it never seemed like something someone else would want to do...i wondered if i could even go in? Gate was open, hours posted, broad daylight. In i went!

Now i can barely remember. i was so delighted and amazed. but i took lots of photos. It was incredible...a tiny textural city of tombs, with narrow lanes, still muddy from the rainstorm a couple of nights ago, sneaky ferns and greenery growing in the cracks, the layers of brick, concrete, plaster, stucco, mold...it was so very old. A different, less brightwhite light, some fog in a full moon, or sunset would have been sweet, and added to the mystery, but i was content. It wasn't totally isolated, there were a couple of small tour groups, and some wandering individuals, a couple of times i had the creeps, but not really...realized another broken rule, this one from childhood. "Don't talk to strangers". i've been talking to strangers a LOT. Other people travel and wander alone, too. And sometimes need to make contact with another human in a social way. One of the times i had "the creeps" in the cemetery was when a lone man was "too near" me in an isolated lane, and i felt sort of followed. He made some comments about where i was from and where he was from and the weather. i caught myself first being snotty and cold, the alien, then realized how stupid. Another traveler, wandering in the cemetery too, talking about the weather with another human being. We shared a few phrases, said "Happy Christmas, have a nice visit" and went our ways. See Mother? Didn't get attacked!!

Realized i did it the day before, too. Sitting in Jackson Square listening to the street musicians. Sat on a bench with an older couple and had to fix my sock, one of those silly toe socks was cutting off my toe in my boot. i guess it looked funny to take off my boot and expose those silly colored toes in public, but oh well. The lady tried not to look. As i was sitting there, this guy (a little creepy to be honest) sat down next to me. Asked where i was from. i said. We exchanged some words. Next thing, he is messing with his shoe, too. That cracked me up, of course, watching the lady trying not to look again. And i giggled and said that woman is going to wonder what is going on here. Exchanged a few more words, "have a nice visit" and went our ways.

i'm glad i'm learning to do this. Be more outgoing. i know a good deal of it has to do with age. i'm not gross, but i'm no young babe in danger of getting hit on, i don't think. And enough coldness and "don't fuck with me" attitude to stay out of trouble. But it's hard being an alien all the time.

After cemetery treat, wandered back to work for a while and download over 100 photos, which on pokeybook, took about 3 hours!!! Worked a little, then decided to run out for a nail file and some more glue. Took a different route and lucky me again!!! Another treat!! i found the Michalopoulos gallery!!

i found his studio by accident several years ago, wandering in the Fauborg Marigny with Debbie on a visit...i had hoped to see some of his paintings, but to find the studio and OPEN!! god it was wonderful. He was mosaicing the walls and doing all kinds of cool decorative stuff. i had hoped to find it again this visit. i found the studio, but it is no longer open to the public. The gallery address was listed, but i almost instantly forgot it and hoped i would pass by wandering. If i had not taken this alley shortcut yesterday, i would have missed it...so out of the way. And it was still open on Christmas Eve evening!!! i went in and saw many paintings. god i love them. The woman in the gallery i remembered from being in the studio. She was pleasant to chat with...i stayed a long time. And treated myself to a poster, even though self-gifts were NOT on budget!! She gave me a little book with all prints and explained the remarque process and gave me all the cards with pictures she had. i felt so lucky and happy.

Came home to an email from my sister that my brother (in-law) was not yet doing better, and was being moved to a larger hospital. The pneumonia was still unidentified. So Scary. i don't quite know what to do. If i should go? But what would i do? Nothing. Lurk. My sister has enough on her hands, since in-laws decided to come there instead. and i know she must go back to work probably day after Christmas. Can only send good thoughts. Prayers. Found myself painting. Like a prayer....and forgot to go to the river and look for bonfires.

Checked email for updates. Found my cybersaviour...chatted too long. As always. Went back upstairs and found paint that was ready and waiting, sat down again and this time forgot to go to midnight mass.

It is likely that i forgot all these things because i really didn't feel like going out into the world and sometimes it is easier to escape into work. i was not attached to doing any of those things. i'm not attached to doing ANYTHING on this trip...just being. And i am being fine. Just fine.

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And so this is Christmas.

Woke many times in the night, but right back to sleep. No 3am panic here. Called my mother and other sister first thing upon waking to say Happy Christmas. Wrote some Happy Christmas emails. No word from the girls, but i'm not surprised. Usually when they are gone, they are Daddy's girls.

Want coffee. Don't really want to go out. but don't want "room service" from the hotel across the street. Their coffee is NASTY. So i go out. It feels a little creepy to be out alone on Christmas morning in coffee-hunting, not quite dressed clothes.

NOTHING is open. DAMN! Finally after blocks of hunting, i see the little grocery around the corner is open and they have coffee. i get two styrofoam cups with ill-fitting lids and carefully bring it upstairs. i light my candle and write. i have been happily drinking that coffee and typing for almost two hours now. The sun has hidden and it has become cloudy outside. Time to go eat some of those juicy peaches for breakfast, then make art. This is my last day here. i'm almost sad about that. But ready to go again, too. Yes. In the morning i will be ready.

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i spent Christmas day working on projects...a little on the 1000 Journal project and a lot of time spent on my artjeans-in-progress. i am covering them with patches on the holes and beads and stitches and maybe writing too. They will be crazy. They are my vagabond jeans and i am wearing them the rest of my trip. It was extremely pleasant to handstitch all day. i didn't go out after the coffee excursion until late afternoon, when the sun was gold and leaving. Took camera. It was beautiful. Everything. Such long strong shadows.

Walked and smiled. Even alone. Funny, i saw lots of men alone and being cool about it, but not women. Whadda freak, as always. Desperately wanted an oyster po'boy and Dixie beer for Christmas dinner and had nothing but 2 peaches all day, so i was STARVING and not just a little cranky to see more places closed than i had imagined. The restaurant recommended by my hotel - N'Awlins Cookery was pretty crowded, with a short line waiting and the wait and hostessing staff were totally ignoring EVERYONE...no one had food, everyone looked mildly irritated, but trying not to, being Christmas and vacation, etc. i had weird bad vibes and decided to leave.

A wild beast hunting for oysters. FINALLY found Patout's on Bourbon Street open with no wait. i had my table in the corner. i sat there boldly with my feet on another chair and read the Dylan Thomas and people-watched and drank my Dixie Blackened VooDoo...oh YUM! and then my fried oyster po'boy. The oysters were GREAT! But the bread was too thick and not crusty and just not that great. Fine with me, bread makes me too sleepy anyway. Then back to my little home that i was already sad about leaving, to pack.

Kurtis is not better. Yet. He WILL be. i just KNOW. But i'm still scared.