Melinda's Moments Mmprh

–Saturday, 1-28-2006

Our class at Tulane went really well. Leo was out with me until 5am the night before though, so we were both a little impaired by lack of sleep and post-night-out fogginess. This class was an hour and a half instead of an hour, so it was nice, too, to not feel rushed and have to cut things short.

After the classes were over, we changed back at our apartment and went to Angelie’s (same place we had dinner a couple of nights ago) for lunch. I got a crazy-good spinach, mozzarella, artichoke, chicken, feta, garlic spread and yum sandwich. I name the ingredients, simply so that I can remember them to re-create it later. After lunch we headed out to a few boutiques, before splitting up to run some errands. I finally found a shop that carried the items I wanted to buy for my mom and my sister, and also bought some touristy stuff before I headed home.

When I got here, Becca and I laid around indiscriminately doing nothing, and generally being listless. Renee invited us in to watch TV and chill in her room. I fell RIGHT asleep and proceeded to take a four to five hour nap.

I was awakened by Renee, who, at 8:30 was asked by Stuart, the man who owns the house we’re staying in, to have us all come up and join us for dinner. I woke up really groggy and tired, and quite confused as to what was going on. Nonetheless, I went upstairs (in my PJ’s, no less,) and watched Stuart make us the most AMAZING stir-fry. We joined him in his dining room for the meal, and afterwards had aperitifs with him on his balcony that overlooks the street, in typical New Orleans style. I had chambord, Straga (I think it was called,) and so much fun… we continued talking and hanging out with him in his sitting room once we were rained off the deck. He is such an interesting and fun guy. I hope to be able to write to him to thank him for all his generosity and kindness while we’ve been here.

After our dinner, drinks, and conversation, Crystal and David and a friend they know from the area showed up to hang out for a bit. We toured Stuart’s house again, and talked a bit more before I excused myself to go make some phone calls. Becca and I eventually got ready to go out for the night in the midst of trying to pack all of our stuff. For some reason, it seemed like my bag exploded in New Orleans, so packing was more of an ordeal than normal. Also, I feel like perhaps my stuff expanded a bit here, because I went from having extra room to having no room at all, and even an extra store bag left to try and work in later. For now it’s okay because we have a tour bus to get to Lafayette, our next stop, but when we have to keep our bags to a 50-pound limit on three more flights… we might have problems. Hmmm… perhaps I should have limited my gift and souvenir shopping just a tid bit more.

Allen Moon showed up to retrieve Becca and I, and we went to meet Benji, Ed and Nick, (a former and founding member of Diavolo,) at a bar on Frenchman’s Street (apparently, more of a local’s place to hang out.) We went in and out of a few bars in that area before heading all the way back to Bourbon to LaFitte’s. We ended the night with Becca and I getting a chance to walk the length of Bourbon when it’s at its busiest, at 2am on a Saturday night. It was much like I expected: kind of like a big frat party and Vegas mixed together. We had some of our boys walk us home, and Becca and I finished packing – which was now even more confused and tiresome of an effort because at this point I was drunk – before we settled in for the night. Tomorrow we have to be up to be picked up by the bus at about 10:30am, but I hope to be up much earlier to seek out a coffee shop (CC’s is closed Sundays,) in order to check my email, take care of some bills, and post this entry…

–Thursday, 1-26-2006:

Thursday morning started once again with finding myself at CC’s writing emails and trying to take care of whatever business it is possible to confront on the road. I’m almost always there by about 10am and stay until it closes for the day at noon. Thursday morning in particular, I went there in my PJ’s and my newly blackened eye, so I was feeling pretty unglamorous. Renee and I share a table, and I always get an italian soda and sometimes an everything bagel and cream cheese. I’ve started to look immensely forward to my time in the morning at CC’s. It’s become my zen of connection to home and routine while I’ve been here.

After, Becca, Renee and I headed back to Camp 516 Rue St. Philip to shower, change and get ready. We took our time, having no real time limits other than that Becca and Renee needed to be at the hotel for their van pick up at 2:45. Becca and I left just in time to once again grab lunch at Cafe Mesparo, where we split another Mufaletta, and I also got a side of red beans and rice. On the way to dropping Becca off, we stopped at a most adorable boutique where I got sidetracked and bought a “personal items case” – actually a glorified tampon holder – I’m not kidding, that I’m using to instead house all 5 chapsticks/lipglosses I have randomly floating around my purse at any given time.

From there I met up with John and Benji in their hotel room, where we worked on resumes, and I gave a crash course in formatting 101. I finally got a chance to talk to my mom and dad for more than just a second, and also heard from Megan (!!!) who was standing the airport, waiting for her and Mike’s bags, freshly back from Africa (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). We decided to head over to Cafe du Monde once more to split a batch of beignets. I had the best frozen cafe au lait, I tell you what. Crazy yummy. After, they walked me back to my house and I laid down for a bit, once again in Renee’s bed and watched some TV, worked on my blog a bit, and took a small nap.

When Becca and Renee and Garrett all got home, a plan was hatched to all go out and eat: first at an oyster bar for appetizers, and then at a place called Muriel’s. The oyster bar, of course, wasn’t really my idea of fun, so I stayed back for a bit with Becca and rallied the troops to all meet on Bourbon street and we headed together to dinner. Muriel’s was missing the keystone salad for which the trip was planned, so we vetoed the idea and set off for a restaurant that we’d been oft recommended called Angelie’s.

By this time, I was randomly starting to feel like I was getting sick, so dinner was spoiled for me a bit. Even though, I did thoroughly enjoy what bit of my pizza I could manage to eat, which was listed on the menu, I kid you not, as the “Chicken Diavolo Pizza”… Whoa.

After dinner, I came back and took a nap while most others went to various bars and clubs. Renee came back with me and took a bubble bath, then joined me in her room to watch “9 to 5,” a movie which I adore, and haven’t seen in forever. When I say “took a nap,” I should explain that my intent was rather to go to sleep for the night, since I laid down at about 10:30 and already wasn’t feeling well. When Garrett came home however, at 12:30 and woke my up to let him in, I woke all the way up, and when I tried to fall back asleep in my own room, I found it too creepy, and couldn’t. So, I decided to call Becca and the gang of hoodlums she was with (the usual, plus a newly-in-town Allen Moon), and have them pick me up to join them.

When they got here, we walked back to LaFitte’s, the bar we first went to on our ghost tour, and then we walked further up Bourbon to a corner on which there were hoppin’ dueling gay bars: Oz and Bourbon Pub. I prefer gay bars because I get mostly left alone and they play actual fun music. Of the two, I preferred the Bourbon Pub, because they played music videos that I could totally zone out and watch. We stayed there until about 3:30 in the morning, and then after Mike left, had John walk us to our place for the night.

–Friday, 1-27-2006:

Again, the day started out with CC’s and a bagel and an italian soda. After they closed, Renee and I walked back to the antique store I bought my necklace at for me to look at gifts. At the shop next door, we found silver certificates for sale in a collectables shop. We each bought one, like weirdoes, and then walked back to pick up Becca for an afternoon of window shopping. We started out at a handful of boutiques we’ve been eyeing. It was a fun stint of girlie dress up times. Eventually we needed a ‘queer eye’ and called John, and then Leo (the straight version of such advice,) to help us make some important (ha, ha) fashion decisions. I got away relatively cheaply, with two cashmere scarves… everyone else kinda broke the bank.

I split off to go get a Po-Boy sandwich, the last on my list of local favorites and New Orleans-specfic cuisine (grits, cafe au lait with chicory, po-boys, muffaletta, red beans and rice…) The only missing two are gumbo and jumbalaya, which I am precluded from doing because of the seafood content. I walked home via a couple of shops I had made a mental note to return to for gifts for others, and arrived home just in time to get ready for dinner.

The board of the New Orleans Ballet Association was taking us all out to dinner at the best seafood restaurant in the area. It’s called Drago, and it’s in Metarie, about 45 min away. We got dressed up and met altogether and arrived at dinner only mildly late, due to traffic. On the drive over we passed a number of cemeteries on the freeway. All bodies are ‘buried’ here above ground, in tombs, or crypts holding ashes, due to the low (below sea level) elevation… if you dig you hit water, and bodies flood or float away, I was told.

Dinner was pretty amazing. There were about 25 of us there, invading the third floor. We all ordered appetizers, wine, salads, and huge main courses. It’s probably the most I’ve eaten in over a year, and I didn’t even partake in the 7 dozen raw oysters and 6 dozen char broiled oysters. I did have, however, spinach and artichoke dip, a salad, and Chicken Romano, with wine and a coke.

After dinner, we all headed back and changed and all again met up, once again at LaFitte’s. We then moved on again to the Bourbon Pub (the gay bar with the music videos.) Garrett and Renee and I split off for just a bit to had to a diner to get fries and ice cream -I was cramming it all in last night – but then we headed back across the street. The night was extended several times over as more and more people we knew showed up, and I got home at 5 oclock this morning.

So right now (8:30am) finds me incredibly tired, once again in CC’s eating breakfast, finally caught-up on my blog, and about to teach a master class at Tulane University. Today has more shopping in store, and tonight looks to be another party night…

**Continued from yesterday’s post…**

After we dropped off the first set of teachers, Garrett and I walked around for a bit. We mostly wanted to go back and see a set of cufflinks Garrett had spied in a window of an antique shop. They were 18k gold red foxes – almost exactly like what the high-art/jewelry version of the Diavolo logo would look like. He and I stalked the store until it opened around noon, and went in and asked about the cufflinks, wanting to get them as a gift for Jacques. What were thinking in terms of price was way (WAY) off, and they turned out to be about $900. She dropped it to $695 when we talked to her a bit more and told her who we wanted them for, etc, but it was still too steep and we left thinking maybe we might be able to get all 14 of us to pitch in…

Garrett had to be at the hotel for his Pas-Sages pick up (the traveling kids show,) and so I met John in the lobby so we could walk around together. He hadn’t eaten yet, so I took him to the same place we had had breakfast. We had a wonderful lunch – he is so great to talk to one on one, I love John. He makes me feel better about a lot of things, and inspired about everything else. After we walked around the streets and the small shops a bit, before heading back to meet up with all the people who were now getting back from teaching their master class at Tulane University. We all met up, changed and headed out in a pack, picking up people as we got ahold of them, trying to find a place to eat. We finally found an amazing little bar and restaurant called Chartres House Café.

We all sat down and everyone ordered drinks, except me. A little bit later, our amazingly fun and intuitive waiter, Dan, came over and handed me a free shot, of caramel vodka, chilled to 5 degrees… it was pretty amazing, so I ordered more of that, on the rocks, to go with with my chicken strip sammich. He read me well, and he knew it. It was awesome.

After dinner, we all headed back to our respective homes. The plan was to get changed and go out again right away, but then Becca and I discovered Renee’s bed, and the TV she has in her room… and we promptly fell asleep watching ‘That 70’s Show.’ When we woke up, we noticed that the one episode of Project Runway we had missed while we were in North Carolina was going to be on later that night, and all plans were quickly changed to accommodate all-important TV needs. We really are that sad. No, more so, we really were that tired. Sometime during that night o’ TV on Renee’s bed, John came over to join in, and everyone else wandered in and out in between bar and food runs.

–Tuesday: 1-24-2006

When we got here, Suzanne said we wouldn’t even begin to understand the destruction of Hurricane Katrina until we saw the areas to which we would be traveling on Tuesday. That having been said, we all got up at met together for internet and coffee at CC’s, then breakfast at the same River’s Edge restaurant we had eaten at the morning before. Then we all headed over to the hotel to meet our Van driver and Suzanne to drive about a half an hour away to the lower ninth ward area/St. Bernard Parish.

That day was just almost too much. More than anything it just makes me so grateful to have what I have and to have never experienced anything like that. I couldn’t help but feel just plain guilty, like survivor’s guilt or something, even though I was no where near the storm. Now, my mood has changed and the city feels so awful, and it isn’t and it didn’t before, but now it’s like I’m literally feeling and absorbing this pervasive sadness that is all over the place, instead of just seeing it.

Everything we passed on the way out of the French Quarter was pretty much like how I’ve described the French Quarter itself before: run down but not destroyed. But then, the situation rapidly changed. In the downtown area, stacked up under the freeway were piles of cars that had been towed there, unable to run, having been flooded out. The cars were somewhat unrecognizable. Many were crushed and mangled, and the majority were missing tires or doors or hoods. All of them were covered in a pattern of rings: like the lines on jupiter, documenting the slow recession of the level of the flood waters as they sat depositing minerals and eroding away the paint and polish. The businesses went from simply declaring “OPEN” or “CLOSED,” meaning for good, not for the day, to no longer having signs or windows or roofs. Then we crossed over a major drawbridge (the name of which I am unaware,) and there was nothing. No recognizable structures. A barge in the middle of a neighborhood. Splinters of wood and rubble and concrete everywhere.

This is going to be one of those things that I’ll just have to leave to pictures, because for it, there can never be words. More than anything, I was struck by an overwhelming feeling, heavy and burdensome and completely gray. I don’t think it has yet left me three days later.

We were going into this area, where the water completely covered the houses, and in which every structure was uninhabitable in order to teach the kids who somehow manage to live within it’s boundaries. In the parking lots of major buildings are row after row of white trailers, now the home to displaced residents. FEMA finally agreed to pay for those for the county, but only two days before they were about to be repossessed because no money had come in from the government for the county. That was about two weeks ago. All of the major stores and chains, like Burger King, McDonald’s and Popeyes had boards over the windows and had made no effort to reconstruct. Of all the things in this area that could bounce back, the huge corporations, even those were too far gone.

The school we were teaching at has been renamed since the storm, it’s now the St. Bernard Parish Unified school. It is the only school open in the entire county. It houses all 1600 K-12 graders that are in the area now, which is up from 300 in November. The school itself was flooded up to the middle of the second floor once, and when we walked in, we could see the line on the wall at the level the water had reached. The floors were all covered in a thin silt, a dirt so fine it was like powdered sugar, and it covered most everything.

There were two Pas-Sages shows, and then John and I taught a Diavolo technique class to the after-school Ballet program kids. The girls were amazing. I was unprepared for how normal they seemed. Their happiness and candor really just augmented how awful the situation was, because for some reason, I was unable to understand how they could be so positive. I guess, what I’m trying to say, is that more than anything, getting to be with the happiness in those kids was even more melancholy than seeing their surroundings because it just highlighted everything that was so wrong. After the class, we had to rush out because there is still a 6pm curfew in that Parish (county – napoleonic code here.) Anyone caught outside their residencies after six is arrested. The drive back at dusk was even more haunting than the ride over in sunlight. That dark gray ashy feeling cemented itself even further.

Now, that I saw all that, I really can’t shake it. Across the street from where I am staying is an X on the wall – just like on all the houses we saw mutilated by winds and flooding that day – each structure had to be searched, one at a time, for survivors or bodies. On the top of the X is the date they came, on the left is the team that did the search, the right is the number of dead animals (pets) and the bottom is the number of dead people. The french quarter where we are wasn’t that badly hit… and coming home that day, I noticed for the first time an X on the door across from ours and there is a 2 for people and a “3 – cats” and suddenly, my home here, the one place in the city that’s been so carefree and my little safe place from all the scariness, has been ruined because now I walk out the door and see death, again. It makes me want to come home so, so badly.

When we got back, after a mostly silent ride home, we were all anxious to pretend to feel better and have fun. John, Becca and I changed into normal clothes and walked to Bourbon street and bought pizza for dinner. We were supposed to meet Monica and her boyfriend Jarod, who flew in to visit, at a VooDoo shop for a Haunted History French quarter ghost and haunted places tour, but we were all feeling a little too morbid already, and opted out. After a random Gyro stop (yes, about 15 minutes after we’d already just eaten,) we changed our plans to go meet some others at a magic club and bar on the corner of Esplanade and Decateur.

This magic shop, it turns out, is owned and operated by none other than Harry Anderson, the judge from “Nightcourt.” It was pretty weird to walk in and see a familiar TV face. The night was set up that there were tables all over and various magicians would have a small group watching their tricks and we could migrate and stare and be impressed. It was crazy awesome, I never expected to have as much fun as I did.

In the middle of our time there, Becca, Crystal and I were getting drinks at the bar when Harry Anderson approached us, and asked us our interest in magic. I stuttered out something about the magic tricks my Grandpa had shown me when I was little, and how I loved the illusions. He told us he’d come find us in a bit… none of us really knew what that meant. Wandering back into the main room, we saw him onstage doing one of two bits for the night. After his show, he came over and pulled up a chair to our table, and showed us three awesome (AWESOME) tricks. He let us buy the ones we wanted, so now I will always have a magic trick in my wallet… ta-da!

Just to had it be said, he is a pretty awesome guy. When a lot of the patrons had left, he and I and a couple of other Diavolo-ites sat talking about our favorite graphic novels and the new politics of New Orleans. I am going to keep an eye out for a certain big corporation to try and buy this whole place…

After the bulk of “magician’s night” had ended at Oswald’s, we were invited by a couple of the more enjoyable magicians and their friends to a hookah bar that was a couple of doors away. Mike, and David two new friends, were much fun, and are going to try and come see our show in Lafayette even. We stayed at the hookah bar until it closed learning our tricks, seeing more of Mike’s antics and generally have low-key fun. By the time we were leaving, we were hungry enough to extend the night further and those us us who were left (Evan, Becca, Mike, David, and I) went to another bar, Check Point Charley’s, next door. This one was an all-night bar, was still serving food, and was in the middle of open-mic night. We hung around for quite awhile, and after a few more drinks, Benji even got up the courage to borrow someone’s guitar and go up on stage and sing a Bob Dylan song. He did a great job. Props, Benji.

We finally pooped out about 3am, and Mai, one of Mike’s friends who had joined us, drove us to our homes and we called it a night.

–Wednesday: 1-25-2006

Wednesday morning we all got up and headed to the coffee shop down the street from our house, CC’s, where I’ve been able to check my email. I got a bagel and a smoothie and had a nice and cathartic internet session, finally being able to figure out my moving-out of LA apartment situation and some bills. I had to once again teach that day, so after breakfast, we made haste to squeeze in some shopping and lunch before I had to meet Leo, my fellow teacher for the day, at the hotel. We stopped into an antique shop where I bought myself a perfume locket for a souvenir. For me, New Orleans is like Korea, in that I am not checking my spending as much as I usually do, because I think it’s important I pump as much money into the local economy as possible.

Lunch was at Café Mesparo, the first reasonably priced full meal I’ve had since I’ve been here… usually I can spend about $10-15 of my per diem a day for all my meals. On some days, the theater provides food, and I eat a continental breakfast , so I spend no money. Here, the average is $30-60, and all my frugalness is effing wasted. Oh well, I guess. It’s been damn good food. I had another local favorite, a Muffaletta – mom, this is a dish for you – a baguette with salami and ham (I subbed turkey) and melted swiss cheese, covered in an olive-salad, which is made of everything yummy. It’s definitely a recipe I’m going to have to recreate somehow.

After lunch, Becca walked me to the hotel, where I met up with Sir Leo to head out to teach two classes.

We were at a school about a half an hour away. Our first class was about 10 adorable 6-year olds who came prepared in black leotards and pink tights. They girls were very into our class and loved every minute of it, for what I could tell. They were, however, quite clingy, and there was more than one occasion when I needed to explain that I needed my hands back in order to teach, or I couldn’t demonstrate with three girls holding onto my legs for dear life.

The second class was about 10 thirteen year olds, and at first I thought that I was going to have a group of too-cool-for-schoolers, but they warmed up perfectly and we had a really great class. The only snafu was that I got a black eye. During our last exercise, Leo and I were catching the dancers and one girl decided to have a freak out (the scared kind) and she full of clocked me in the face with her elbow. I left the room as collectedly as possible, and headed to the bathroom with Suzanne in tow. She went to get me ice while I surveyed the damage: really swollen, really red, kinda bloody. I cleaned up in about 30 seconds and ran back to the room – I really, really didn’t want the kids to think anything too terrible had gone wrong. So I marched back in and told a while lie about how I had been hit, but not badly, and that all it did was knock my contact out, hence my jog to the bathroom.

Their fears seemed satiated a little bit after that, and we only had about three minutes of class left at that point. After they had all left, I let the impact sink it, and I will say, even though I sound dramatic, it truthfully hurt worse than anything has in a long time. I think this is too, because of the location, and that when I am used to dealing with high levels of pain it is all internal, things that I can grip to hold or curl up for… this was just throbbing agony, and I couldn’t touch it. The air hurt it. Thinking hurt.

We headed home, me with a surgical glove filled with ice on my face, and headed back to the hotel. Becca met me there, and we walked to our home so I could get changed and we could regroup to go out later.

When we showed up, the man who owns the house where we’ve been staying was finally there. He is a jovial, extremely intelligent, generous and fun man, with an amazing collection of art and a constantly thinking mind. He came out on his upper balcony to greet us, and he invited us in for dinner and a tour of his house – which, as I have mentioned before, is a thousand times more incredible than one could ever imagine having seen it from the outside. While we were eating he served us wine and gin and tonics and told us a bit about himself. I liked to pick his brain because he is an environmental law attorney. He saw my nose, freshly swollen, and declared it broken. (I have an appointment with my nose/sinus MD when I get back to Seattle mid-February.) After eating well, Becca and I headed downstairs to take advantage of Renee’s kindness in letting us use her bedroom as our link to TV bliss. For the next two hours, Becca and I watched Lost and Project Runway – necessities – and I continued to lick my wounds and take pain meds.

After good TV, we all had a date with Mike, the magician from the night before. The Ghost tour we had decided against the night before when we instead went to the magic bar was now going to happen, under very special circumstances. Mike had been one of the ghost tour leader for years, and he agreed the night before to take Becca and I and our friends on the tour late at night (against city ordinance, apparently – no guided tours past 10. However, had we been a marauding bachlorette party of a drunken 30 people, no problem there…) So, we got together as many people as we could and met him in front of the chapel by Jackson square for our unofficial, friend-led tour.

It was super fun, and spooky, and probably to be taken with a grain of salt, but worth it, especially since Mike gave us the tour for 1/3 of the price we would have had to of paid. After the tour, which included lengthily stops at two “haunted” bars – The Absinthe house on pirate’s alley and LaFitte’s Blacksmith shop on Bourbon street – we headed to Coop’s for a little food. We hung out there for an inordinate amount if time, and one by one people went home until it was just me, Becca, John and Mike left. We stopped in a couple of bars on the walk home, I just sat, throbbing, and I finally got home safe and sound at about 4am.

–Sunday: 1-22-2006

Well, first things first: North Carolina wrap-up: The trees there are the perfect Halloween trees with veins and capillaries coming off of hundreds of branches stemming from a single trunk. I’ve never seen trees like them in person before and I found them very enchanting in an odd sort of way. And, lastly, I remembered something about the Q&A after the Davidson show that made me rather pleased… a guy came up to me afterwards and said he liked my shirt. Small world… one in which all awesome people buy their tee-shirts on threadless.com. He wasn’t wearing the exact shirt I had on, but said he also owned it. He was, however, wearing a different one of the shirts from that site. Awesome. Also: his friend was from Tacoma, and was the only person who didn’t boo my Seahawks comment.

So, onto Sunday, when we flew into New Orleans. All the flights we have taken so far have been on AirTran, and all have had stopovers in Atlanta. This flight was no different… or at least not by the time we checked in. We all went to the ticket counter to check in, one at a time, at varying times, like we always do. Perhaps this situation was a bit different since Ed, Garrett and David were coming to the airport a bit later than the rest of us because they had to return our rental vans, but not by much. So, the first couple of people go up to check in, and we get the weirdest guy who has to do things his weird-ass-backwards way. So, he made us all check in at once, in a huge clogging clump (with many people behind us angry at 12 “cutters” in line) and then, we each didn’t get a boarding pass until all the people had checked their bags, and even then, some people had been given weird boarding pass coupons that they had to go back up to get a real thing. In other words, checking in usually takes maybe 20 minutes for all of us, and this ordeal took probably an hour and a half.

Luckily – I use that loosely – our flight was delayed, meaning me didn’t miss it. Baggage-counter moron didn’t inform us of this, however, so we freaked out and rushed to our gate to find that tidbit o’ news. Not only was our flight delayed, but it was delayed by two hours, and then our connecting flight in Atlanta was also delayed for three hours. I bought some magazines and a Duke shirt for my dad, and spent a small fortune on airport food. When all was said and done, we arrived in New Orleans, about six and a half hours after we were supposed to…

The one cool thing was that just before we boarded out second flight, the Seahawks-North Carolina game started and was playing on most of the TVs in the airport. By the time we took off, I knew that the Seahawks were ahead 7 to 0. The captain also came on over the flight’s intercom and said that he was a North Carolina fan and was going to try and give us updates on the score throughout the flight. When we landed, he announced the Seahawks lead of 20 to 0. By the time we were leaving the airport, I had called home, finding out the final score of, I think, 34 to 14?

Now here’s real kicker: eleven of our group’s bags didn’t show up with us. And of course, according to Murphy’s law as it affects Melinda’s baggage, my two bags were among the missing eleven. We spend ample time filing claims and I, of course, flipped out just a tiny bit in my own way by calling my parents and Jerry to whine and ask advice on just what the frick I was going to do without all my stuff…

That night I slept in my contacts. Suzanne, our contact here who met us at the airport and was the person who arranged for all of the in-school performances and classes we’ve done, dropped us all off at our various residencies for the night. Since this stay in New Orleans is very different from the norm, (no shows and all classes, due to the lack of a single theater in the city,) and the fact that we’re donating our time to be here, we all aren’t staying at a hotel like we normally do. Some people do get hotel rooms, at the Omni Royal Orleans Hotel, (which is gorgeous, by the way, and I would recommend it for any New Orleans-bound travelers…) but the rest of us are split up between some very generous families and people who are housing us like exchange students.

I am staying in a HUGE mansion right in the French Quarter, along with Becca, Renee and Garrett. The two gentlemen who own the house split their time between New Orleans and Miami, and so for the first few days of our week-long stay here we didn’t have any one here… we just had a key and a house to ourselves. This house is amazing… it is much like an ornate movie set… there are outside balconies that surround an enclosed courtyard, and three bedrooms, a bathroom, an office and a laundry room that all jut off from the courtyard. All of these rooms, by the way, don’t even belong to the main house, which is three stories, and amazing (we just got the tour today – I’m behind on my blogging.) I’ll really just have to take it pictures to do it justice… it’s quite spectacular.

Once we put our stuff down, we decided there was no better way to start off our time in New Orleans than to head straight to Bourbon Street to take a look around. Of course, after maybe just two blocks, we found a hole in the wall alcohol-to-go stand. Becca and I got Hand Grenades in souvenir cups and promptly were wasted and wandering in and out of bars and shops and souvenir stands. It wasn’t until I wandered into what I thought was a bar – that turned out to be a strip club – that I decided it was definitely time to call it a night, and head home to our cute little room, with our adorable pink-lined twin beds.

When we got home, we were just a little bit too enchanted with our new home to go to bed right away, so, only after some farting around in our new digs, we all went to sleep for the night.

–Monday: 1-23-2006

My first impressions of New Orleans was that I couldn’t tell if it was a run-down area or a damaged area… this comment, it should be noted, is only in specific reference to the French Quarter, when wind and water damage was minimal compared to the other parishes. I could see Military police on a few corners, but no overwhelming martial law presence like I thought there might be. On the way in, we even drove right past the Superdome, which I had seen countless times on the news as ground zero for misery and abandonment, and from my view point, zooming past it on the freeway, it looked much less ravaged and plagued than I thought it was going to be. I noticed as soon as I stepped off the plane, the whole area has a slightly musty smell, I think I only notice because of my crazy uber-sensitive nose capabilities, and that was a bizarre realization for me understanding that that sensation was indicative of the flooding and the events that have taken place here.

The French Quarter is still affected, even though it has fared far more well than most places. All of the shops have severely limited hours, and all are very, very understaffed. The coffee shop I have been going to in order to check my email, for example, (CC’s Coffee House,) is only open from 6am to noon. I overheard the barista today explaining to a loyal customer they have no idea when they’ll be open on Sundays again, because as it is now the entire staff works every hour they are open every day and they need a day off… Their next goal before opening in Sundays is to try and extend the hours until 3pm instead of noon.

The windows are boarded up, and structures all show wear and tear. The affluent areas look like the poor areas would have, and the poorer areas look like… garbage. But there are signs of life all over and a general sense of camaraderie. It’s funny cause when I see a gas lamp missing it’s cover, or a sign post that’s bent forward I wonder, is what I’m seeing evidence of the hurricane, or am I reading into a car hitting a pole and lack of city utilities fixing public use structures. Again, this is just the French Quarter. Which, despite all these tells, still is so much like the Orleans square in Disneyland that I can’t fathom I’m in the real place. I love how much it is exactly like what I wanted it to be like… with the balconies and the narrow streets and the beads and the architecture… I love it.

Monday morning we got up early and Renee gave us the basic directional tour of the quarter. She led us directly to Café du Monde, a New Orleans staple that’s open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It has infamous french doughnuts – called Beignets – that are legend, local and otherwise, and great coffee. The coffee is particularly special because it is actually brewed from a blend of coffee beans and chicory. Chicory is a root, that during the rationing of wars and poor economy, was discovered to taste similar to coffee when ground up and roasted and brewed. So, Café du Monde serves part coffee, part chicory coffee drinks. It tastes great, but definitely different… a little more burnt than normal coffee. I wouldn’t choose it over regular coffee, but I would definitely order it on purpose at this spot.

While Garrett, Becca and Renee finished their Cafe au laits and beignets, I walked away just a bit to Jackson square and the Moonwalk and artillery park — all rather close to the waterfront of the Mississippi river roaring past. I took a bunch of pictures and was privy to the rare treat of seeing it covered in mist.

We walked from there to the hotel where everyone else was staying to pick up Chad, and then walked back to nearly the same place – across the street from Cafe du Monde – and got an amazing breakfast at The River’s Edge restaurant. I had an omelet covered in Creole sauce and a big ol’ bowl of grits. Both of which I thoroughly enjoyed. Just after breakfast, I stopped into a cute little boutique clothing store while we were walking everyone back to the hotel – the meeting point for those who were about to leave to teach the first set of classes – and bought two luggage tags. An act, I would later find out was me tempting fate, as my bags didn’t show up, again, when they were supposed to… but I’ll get to that later.

Today was a show day, which means teching Traj in the morning, then show at night. In between we watched the video of dress rehearsal in Garrett’s room, ate, and I took a nap (again.) The show went well, the crowd was amazing. They loved us, and it felt so great to have people clap and gasp and hoot and holler… love it. We got to meet the people who brought us here after the show and they were so great… they really went above and beyond to promote us.

Only two out of the ordinary things to mention: all day today and yesterday the stage at the venue was covered in Lady Bugs. It was weird calling freezes to save bugs, but necessary…

Also, I got booed during Q&A. I introduce myself: “Hello, my name is Melinda Ritchie and I’m originally from Seattle, Washington… Go Seahawks…” “Booooooooooo.” You’ll recall I am in North Carolina and the Carolina at Seattle game is tomorrow (6:30pm eastern.)

I fly to New Orleans tomorrow morning, and we are staying at a house in the French Quarter, so internet might be spotty…

Last night, after I posted my blog, I was pulled across the hall into David and Crystal’s room for an apparently mandatory game of CatchPhrase. Then, it was sleepy time. Too bad I didn’t actually fall asleep until maybe 4am – at a generous estimate.

This morning was an early one, and for the first time in a long time, Becca and I didn’t get the luxury of going back to bed after we went down to catch the last few minutes of the continental breakfast. Instead, we had to shower and get presentable for an early morning event on the Davidson University Campus. Becca was doing her door solo in the middle of the student union building to draw attention for our show. Monica, Garrett, David and I were there in our Diavolo gear to be able to answer questions, etc. It was a fun opportunity, but possibly needless, since our show had already sold out in the weeks before we even got here.

After that, and a quick trip to the grocery store, it was nap time until Tech started that afternoon. Nothing new there, tech was tech. I did buy Davidson-colored (red, white and black) scarf from the bookstore cause it went with my logo stuff so well.

Just about the only other noteworthy thing of the day to mention was that Becca and I found a credit card in our room from the previous guest… it’s a platinum bank of america credit card… and though I couldn’t ever really do it, we definitely had a lengthy discussion of where we would use and what for… sigh. Damn this conscience of mine.

The rest of the night will find me watching a movie in someone else’s room (The Fifth Element, I think,) and then for sure calling it an early night since we have an early tech of act two in the morning.

All we’ve done today was wake up to eat breakfast, went back to sleep, walked across the street to Target (where we ran into about seven other company members – all of us had gone separately and then conglomerated there due to the coincidence,) and then came back to the hotel to eat McDonald’s dinner and then watch TV. Everyone else is out bowling, but Becca and I opted to stay in since she doesn’t feel too well, and I’m always happy not spending money and instead kickin’ it with the boob tube. Tomorrow things pick back up.

****

Click here to see All my photo Albums…

Or… more specifically:

Tour so far…

Honeymoon…

Bachlorette Party and Shower (I lost my camera an hour into the bachlorette party… So there aren’t that many pix.

Family Christmas Pictures

Shower at the Garage These I already posted the link to, I think.

Those are all the new ones. Still no wedding pictures yet.

For some reason, our new awesome, awesome suite hotel doesn’t have Bravo, even though it has literally every single other cable network. The unfortunate result of this is that I don’t get to see the new episode of Project Runway tonight… oh, the horror!!!!

It’s ok-ish though, because Becca and I did just watch American Idol and Lost (a pretty monotonous episode, boooooo,) while sharing a pint of ice cream. I am so lucky she is in this company with me/we get to room together. I heart Becca.

This morning I woke up to David and Garrett coming into our room to drop off their bags. I’d given them our room key the night before so they could do this since they had to be at a school doing a kids show while the rest of us checked out. They had to be all packed and checked out by 7:30am and the the rest of us picked them up from the school on our way to Jacksonville on the tour bus. I stayed up late last night packing, so when I got up, I didn’t have much else to do besides grab breakfast and get ready. I slept on the 2-hour ride to the airport and read through both flights (Jacksonville to Atlanta, Atlanta to Charlotte – both again on AirTran.) When we got to Charlotte, the presenter had rented us three vans, in to which we all piled and drove the 25 min to Davidson where we’re staying.

Becca and I were absolutely ecstatic to see a Target across the street from our hotel as we pulled up… sad, I know, but I love Target. We got to the hotel in time to eat the manager’s reception and save ourselves dinner money. From there it’s just been good TV and ice cream. Also, again: free wi-fi… hell yeah!

Tomorrow: Day off in NorCar. Trip to Target inevitable.

So yesterday we got up and again hoarded continental breakfast and went back to bed. When Becca and I got up again at about noon, we got showered and ready to go out with John and get lunch… but then… we found a marathon of Project Runway on Bravo. I had seen none of the episodes from this season yet, so I was particularly lucky to find the marathon in the first five minuets of episode one. Needless to say, lunch plans were canceled, and for the next five hours, John, Garrett, Becca and I watched the first five episodes of season 2. That meant, that by the time we eventually pried ourselves away from the TV, I had only one unseen episode left.

Sadly, our dinner plans weren’t flexible as to accomodate that last episode. Joan, who is a teacher for University of Florida’s dance program invited the whole company for dinner at her house. She ‘employed’ use of two of her friends who had huge SUVs to come and pick all of us up at our hotel and transport us across town to her house. Where she lived was gorgeous, and I can’t emphasize enough how much I adore the trees and foliage here in north-central Florida. The driver we got explained to my carload that the diversity is because this area is subtropical, so there is are many many more species which can survive here climate-wise, and they have evolved and diversified in order to coexist. Way to go, Floridian plant-life, you’re pretty.

Dinner was amazing. Unfortunately for me the main course was whole-BBQ’d fish, but I was more then satiated by pasta, rice, collard greens, carrots and potatoes, etc. I am getting more used to wine, and am actually really enjoying it… but it still makes me feel very dehydrated… so I don’t think I prefer it to other beverages just yet. Just incase you were all wondering. Right.

Dinner dropped off into conversations, which were followed by a random game of limbo and dancing in the living room. The kids from the dance department (well, some of them anyway,) were also at dinner, and it was nice to hang out with them again. After dinner, we again piled into the cars with our surrogate taxi-driver-friends, and headed home.

When we got back to our room… what was on TV? The exact episode of Project Runway that we had left off on: the only episode I needed to see in order to be all caught up for tomorrow’s episode. AWESOME. So, Becca and I watched that and some other mindless TV and eventually drifted off…

Today, Tuesday, we woke up hella early (obviously much earlier than our other days off in FL,) at 6:30am because both Becca and I had to shower and get ready to be down in the lobby by 8am. We were all invited to go take the university’s advanced ballet class at nine. I, for one, haven’t taken a ballet class since I graduated last May, so I jumped at the opportunity, even though it made for a much earlier morning than I would have liked. The class itself was really great, and I wasn’t as terrible as I was expecting, but I have indeed lost many a muscle that I used to have very well-equipped. It was funny to realize, that even though I have become about eight times stronger in this company than I used to be, I can still wear myself out in one 50-minuite barre in a good ballet class. Mostly: my hip flexors and my ass. Ouch. Tomorrow, it will hurt to walk.

Also: tomorrow, it will hurt to shampoo. Here is why: after ballet, five of us went next door to a studio where silks and trapezes were hung and a stage trick and combat teacher taught us how to work the silks. This, incase it needs to be explained, are just two longs strips of durable fabric that are attached together that the top and are hung from the truss of a stage. They go up about 30-50 feet depending on the stage, and as an acrobat on them, one would climb them to their top or midpoint and do tricks and swing, and just generally use them as a means of appearing awesome.

I learned a bunch of basics and then some pretty crazy trick stuff. I felt strangely at home 20 feet in the air with no net or ropes or anything, (thank you, hanging duet,) and felt like the principles and technique to doing silks came rather inherent in my body. Point being, I am totally going to take aerial classes back in LA and possible pursue silk work to beef up my resume and hopefully get me some killer jobs. Also, just to have it said, I think I am my most happy in motion in the air. Diavolo flys and swinging on the silk through space… I just freaking love that feeling. Note: this does not include falling.

After the silks class the five of us (Renee, Crystal, Garrett, Becca and I) walked back through the UF campus towards Chipotle for a well-deserved lunch. Along the way, we randomly (and I can’t stress just how truly random this felt to me,) stopped in a courtyard and played hackey-sack for about a half an hour. This was my first time ever playing hackey-sack, and I was embarrassingly unskilled at this particular game.

After Chipotle lunch, Becca, Garrett and I headed to the post office so I could mail out an ebay package and buy some 2-cent and 1-cent stamps to make my stamps current. I also learned that the cost for priority mail and delivery confirmation have gone up – that’s crap – from $3.85 to $4.05 and $0.45 to $0.50. Bastards. Then we got Ben and Jerry’s and everything seemed a little bit better.

Here comes my one exciting celebrity sighting for Florida: James Cromwell! He is an awesome old-man actor (LA confidential, etc, you would totally know him if you saw his face,) and he is also staying in our hotel because he is in the Scopes monkey trial play that is now playing at UF. So, when we walked into the hotel lobby he was there, and we rode up in the elevator with him. He was asking us about Diavolo, and finally at the end of the elevator ride, my cool facade popped, and I told him I thought he was great, giggled, and left, like a small little idiot. Oh well… he was awesome. Apparently Ed Asner is also in the play and is also staying in our hotel, but I haven’t seen him.

Cut to: Hotel rooms, after a nap.

Garrett walked me to Lake Alice, a wildlife sanctuary on UF’s campus that actually houses Alligators! I didn’t see any, but just seeing the signs to beware of them made my day. We got to the lake just in time to see the bats all swarm (SWARM!) out of their bat house at dusk. It was crazy, and I went a little bit weird from an unknown fear of swooping flying creatures en mass. Bats = not scary. Hundreds of swooping bats at dusk = terrifying.

From my close encounter with the bats, Garrett and I went back to the UF dance complex and met a number of other company members so we could see the concert showing the UF dance kids had invited us to attend. They had some really solid pieces, and we finally got to see them dance in their element. Some of them are really, amazing, beautiful movers. The whole process made me really nostalgic for college, and really sad that I won’t ever get to go back to LMU. Unlike a lot of college students, I totally comprehended the crazy extent of how great I had it while I was going to LMU, with the wonderful faculty and classes and resources… and I’m so glad I appreciated it while I was there… but it’s still hard to not get that anymore and miss it…

After the showing we walked to the #1 voted best burrito place as voted by students: Burrito Brothers, bought some burritos and walked back to our hotel, where we all settled into Garrett’s corner room to eat our food and watch the remainder of the beginning of American Idol… classic.

After burrito-idol time, about ten of us (three UF kids,) played Catchphrase for about three hours. What and amazingly fun, hyper, crazy game. Good times with just people. I need to buy it, and so should you, and you, and you. (But make sure you get version two: the electronic one.)

Now I am back in my own room, avoiding packing, because as per usual, my bag a-sploded in my room during our stay here. We have to be in the lobby by 10am in order to catch our bus and our plane to North Carolina in the morning…

I’m in bed again. I love being in bed. Exactly like this, too: with my computer, the TV on (and the remote within reach, and it’s got cable,) having nothing to do tomorrow and full of ice cream. The only thing that could make it any better would be the babers to snuggle. Sigh.

Yesterday was our show. We performed at the big campus theater at University of Florida. I celebrated gator-pride by wearing blue and orange eye shadow for the show. It was kind of hideous, but whatever. Sometime during our stint in Korea, I grew bored of just doing the same make-up and someone came up with the idea that I should do my makeup to a different theme each show… The girls of diavolo (and the occasional guy) name the theme each night… it’s been everything from ‘anime girl’ and ‘geisha goes hollywood’ to ‘bird in a midlife crisis.’ As you might imagine, sometimes my makeup therefore can look pretty ridiculous. Good thing we play huge venues and the audience can’t see my ‘innappropriate ninja scenario’-inspired cosmetic journey.

The show went well. The only drawback was that the theater didn’t provide us with food they’re usually supposed to for dinner, so we all went without (no time by the time we found out to go get some before the show.) So, no food plus Florida muggyness made for us all feeling like we were going to pass out by Traj. My legs felt like they were going to give out by the end of the women’s quartet (the first thing I do in the piece, requiring the least amount of exertion.) This worried me seeing as how I still had the double eagle fly coming up and it was my first time doing it onstage since Korea (fourth time ever overall.)

After the show some of the dance students from the UF dance department came backstage and hung out with us after Q&A and we ended up meeting them for a much-needed post-show pizza run. We went to Leonardo’s, which is across the street from the hotel. I ate what is probably the singe biggest and thickest piece of pizza I have ever encountered – it was covered in pepperoni, sausage, cheese, and every veggie suitable to good pizza. Ugh, now I’m hungry.

Then, I got talked into continuing the evening at the club in downtown Gainesville called the Rue Bar (too crowded,) and then got roped into continuing onto a college party. I felt old.

Thankfully the dance kids drove us everywhere so no cab fare was involved and I was surronded by good friends (Garrett, Crystal, John and Becca saved my ass from some pretty ghetto jerks at the club,) otherwise I might have considered the evening a bust. We got home around 4am, and I went straight to bed.

The next morning, Becca and I woke up specifically to horde more breakfast food from the continental buffet, packed our ice bucket to serve as a mini-yogurt fridge and then passed out again til maybe 2:30pm, when we got up and enjoyed our spoils. Our lazy sunday (no cupcakes involved) was visited by John and passed along nicely until we went to dinner at about 6.

We met everyone in the lobby and all walked over to a locally-famous restaurant called The Swamp, whose walls were covered in flat screen TVs showcasing football playoffs, and whose massive swampy-trees were adorned in twinkle lights. I really don’t care much about football, but Ed, our technical director, said he thought that this year’s superbowl would include the Seahawks, so maybe I am going to have to start caring a little more. Look at me as I jump on a bandwagon. No shame here.

An amazing buffalo-chicken wrap later, we all walked back to the hotel to change and re-group for bowling. We lost Ed and Benji, but otherwise the whole dinner group (the whole company minus Leo) shuttled to a local alley where we played 2 solid hours of some pretty killer bowling. Boys beat the girls in two face-offs, but the girls proved to have a much more astute learning curve.

We were joined at the alley by Matt and Nic (no k,) two of the UF dance students, and they drove us back to the hotel when the bowling alley closed, via a nearby Ben and Jerry’s. A note for the future: David promised that if I bought it, he would take the Vermonster Challenge sometime while we’re on tour. That involves 20 scoops of ice cream, 4 bananas, 4 ladles of hot fudge, 1 brownie, 2 cups of whipped cream, 4 scoops of peanuts, etc and one hour’s time. I am sooooo excited. It will be glorious and I will take many pictures.