Tsunami

We were sitting around our Victorian house. Metal benches in the shade, peaceful ease amongst family. Then we knew a storm was brewing. I went to the basement doors and saw that furniture was already floating within. We went to the town center alongside the edge of where land met water. We walked hurriedly along the walkway, grasping metal rails.

I look out the side and see a wave rising over us, eclipsing the sky. The water rushes over us, but we don’t falter. I see another wave rising and know that they will not stop coming. Over and over, we are drenched, and I see others on the deck being pulled out to sea. I see my brother and his wife standing near us. I take his hand and we have a shared moment of helpless humor regarding the situation as we crookedly smile at each other. I see the wave coming toward us, and I know we are about to die.

Homesick

The city is in my blood.

The city is my Mother.

I have seen her in such beautiful blooms, draped in magnolias and crowned with stars. I have seen her crawling, bleeding and broken with feeble gasps of pain. I see her in that quiet space, the pause before creation. I see her.

Her roots are in me. I am tethered, tied to her. My thoughts are held prison by all that she is. Her music, that blend of joy and sorrow. Her taste, of the ocean and tradition. Her laughter, the careening notes of the steamboat pipes. Her secrets, the countless streets and alleys bedecked with color and noise and mystery. All these things, they haunt me.

She is my muse. I could write a sonnet, a haiku, an ode to her every single day. Nothing will ever truly express how I feel for her. These consonants and syllables are so hollow, they scatter when I attempt to gather them up, a bouquet of my sentiments.

I will be eternally vulnerable to any mention of her, any vision, any reference. I will always ache for her. I will always love her.

She is my most secret hidden heart. Wandering the corridors of my bloodstream. Pulsing with every breath I take.

The city is in me.

Overcast glee

A Haiku for today’s weather

The sky hangs heavy

Bloated clouds in shades of grey

Somber, cold morning

This is the kind of weather that makes me want to:

A) Wrap myself up in a fluffy blanket and drink hot tea

B) Take the metro to the heart of the city and people-watch

C) Take lots of pictures

It so rarely rains out here, that when it finally does, I get overwhelmed and can’t figure out how to celebrate it. While I was taking out the garbage this morning, I got distracted by my apartment building’s landscaping- it’s nothing special, but the combination of low lighting, the glistening raindrops clinging to the leaves, and the chill in the air… I felt like I was on the edge of a magical forest. I’m still beating myself up over the fact that I didn’t take any pictures! Hopefully it’ll rain again and I can get some shots after work. I can just imagine my neighbors’ reactions- “Why is that girl standing in the back alley and taking pictures of ferns?...”

Solitary Contentment

I was a lonely child.

For years, I wished someone would keep me company- I ached from the pain of solitude. If someone did join me, I was so desperate for friendship that I didn’t even know how to enjoy what they had to offer. Inevitably, I would push them away through my never ending need for approval and devotion.

As the years went by, people came in and out of my life. I celebrated each time a bond was forged, and I grieved each time it was broken. I learned to not expect eternal companionship, but more to enjoy what each person had to offer me at that stage in my life, and what I could give them in return.

These days, I am incredibly blessed. I have friends who understand me. I have a family who accepts me. I have a love that is everything I need in a relationship.

But there is still the solitude.

Yet after years of pushing it away, I've learned to embrace it.

Moving out here, I was thrust in a situation where I had no one to count on for whiling away the hours. I learned to branch out in the city while exploring inside of myself. I came to realize that what I used to fear- spending time completely alone- was what I most needed. How can you hope to offer complete friendship, acceptance and attention to others, if you can’t offer it to yourself?

So now, I’m about to enter a stage where I have constant company- and I find myself missing those endless hours alone. It’s not that I want to scorn my love. I just want to make sure and not scorn myself, the one person who I could always depend on.

Shoes

I have a thing for shoes. I'm not in the minority with that statement, though.

This post is devoted to shoes that I could drool over all day, and will never be able to afford.

*sigh*

Haunted Playgrounds

My past haunts are part of who I am- the countless hours I've spent, the secrets I've shared while there, the joy and sadness alike.... They stay with me.

Uptown Square

Many of my earliest memories are of this place. It was 2 blocks away from our house in the Garden District. My brother and I would ride our bikes over and spend all day in the shopping area. There was a novelty store that sold Warheads, as well as a dollar theatre- complete with creepy concession stand guy. It was where I saw Nightmare Before Christmas when it first came out in theatres. I used to imagine being proposed to in Uptown Square- that my future husband would know how much love I associated with it, and would seek to add to those

happy associations. Now it's abandoned- it's the site of a weekly Farmers Market, but that's

about it.

Audubon Park

I used to live less than a block away from Audubon Park. My brother and I would walk through it on the way to/from school every day. On our days off, we would ride our bikes through the golf courses and search for abandoned golf balls. We climbed countless trees and explored for countless hours. I used to feed squirrels and pretend they were my pets.

French Quarter AKA Vieux Carre

I've lost myself in its streets countless times. It is my muse, my siren, my most secret and beloved heart. As you walk through hidden corridors and dark alleys, the dischordant tunes of the steamboat permeate the air. The smells vary from heady perfumes to savory dishes to nauseating body odor. Tarot card readers set up camp next to jazz musicians and people leisurely dance in the street.The warm air embraces you like the city herself is passionately kissing you. These streets have held nightmares for me, and they have saved me from countless heartbreaks. So many times I would wander the streets alone in the middle of the night, and no harm came to me. The city has always kept me safe.

Lake Lawn Cemetery

Cities of the dead, and with such beautiful architecture- The tombs are inspiring. Whenever I come here, I feel such love. The only time I've been apprehensive in a cemetery was when my friends and I would visit at 3 in the morning. But even then, I was more fearful of some random crazy bum than any ghost. You could spend hours here and still miss out on something amazing and inspiring. The dead are guarded well, and their monuments are made with reverence.

Fashion

I can accept trends in fashion. They're fine. But they are constantly changing- so why do women spend so much money trying to keep up with them?

Example-

Animal print/hair boots

Exhibit A: Roberto Cavalli

Price?

$4,240.

Why anyone would pay that amount of money on a pair of boots that will be relevant for a maximum of 5 months is beyond me. Plus, they're somewhat veering into safari hooker territory, don't you think?

Now....

Exhibit B: Type Z Extrema

Price?

$92.

Granted, the quality probably isn't ideal, but seriously- do you plan on following this trend for an extended period of time? I didn't think so.

Common sense, women. Don't be a slave to trends! Classic *Personal* style is the way to go!

(And if you are going to follow a trend, at least limit your monetary output.)