|Apologies to my mother.
||[Nov. 6th, 2012|05:26 pm]
VIVA LA JOY.
|^Photo by Nate.
Well. I couldn't stay away. New Orleans called me back to its treacherous borders and whether listening to its manipulative calls was the right decision or not, I'm still not sure. I've been here for about a month now and even with the strength and empowerment achieved from having what I'm sure was the best Summer of my life, this place will still knock you on your ass. I've learned that insanity is doing the same things over and over again and expecting different results every time. I came here with the intention of doing things differently this year, and while my confidence is a tad higher than before and my strange ability to stand up for myself even when intimidated shows itself every once in a while, it's hard not to fall back into the same unhealthy routines. I've made some new friends and am officially pursuing my lifelong goal of becoming a cocktail waitress at a strip club on Bourbon Street (joking about the lifelong dream part, it just pays the bills), but to say all my decisions have been excellent would be a lie. Regardless, I'm trying, and some good changes are steering me in the right direction. So at the risk of beginning a tangent, here are some photos from the last month with vague captions.
Apologies to my mother, who I apparently forgot to say goodbye to. I still love you, Mom.
There was a fire. No one was hurt. The house was abandoned.
Burned a sign for Nate's house, which is named after the star system that Yoda lives on. Obviously.
Started hanging out with this handsome man again who lives as the Treehouse Troll of one of the art houses, but I broke his heart because sometimes I'm a bad lady.
This is Nate's dog, Huddie. Huddie went into my pack one day when I wasn't home and ate every single pair of underwear I owned. Nate was too broke to go to Family Dollar to buy me some new underwear. Huddie also enjoys cigarettes and condoms.
This is Dagobah. Nate thought it would be a good idea to throw some shoes over the power lines. The neighbor didn't like that at all.
Here is a crew of babes.
Started playing a twice-a-week gig at the Spotted Cat with a girl by the name of Sarah McCoy who's pipes will make your soul explode. I look forward to it all week and am super excited to be playing with a band that ISN'T riddled with the drama of a bunch of couples who used to sleep together.
Speaking of Yes, Ma'am, here is a painting a guy named Skip did of us when we were busking the other evening. Fuck yeah.
I can't tell if it's home yet.
Or what the hell I'm doing with my life, for that matter.
But it's about that time for my quarter-life crisis where I contemplate that, anyway.
There, now i'm caught up. Day of the Dead photos coming soon.
New Orleans, Louisiana.
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