I went to New Orleans with my mom at the end of January. It was super fun, you guys! Let’s talk about some things I learned.
1. Bile is really bright yellow.
Isn’t it great when you drink a bunch on Bourbon Street with your mother and then you wake up in the morning and you feel like you’re dying and you try to sleep it off but it never goes away and then you throw up but you haven’t eaten anything so it’s just your stomach juices and you’re like “when did I drink anti-freeze?” I love that. So fun.
The first night we spent in New Orleans started with a drink called a hurricane (I believe the irony is intentional, though I wondered at first) and ended with me yelling lots of swear words at Billy over the phone (not at him, it wasn’t a fight so much as I was really enthusiastic about the oysters I’d had for dinner). Anyway, my mom and I had had a lovely day walking around the French quarter, eating beignets and jambalaya and gumbo and oysters in the spring-like weather. Then we started drinking and I went a little overboard and then I dropped my camera trying to take a picture of a particularly self-aware sign outside a tittie bar (I think it said “SPORTS! BEER! TITTIES!”) and I think it’s irreparably damaged. Whatever! It was really fun. And the music was really great and my mom only embarrassed me like three times (a record low) and we met lots of nice people and giggled a lot!
And then the next morning, after I threw up bile in the fancy hotel toilet, my mom made me go out of the hotel room with her. I kept encouraging my mother to understand that it would be much more fun for us to lay in our separate beds and watch an uplifting sports movie but she insisted we explore. So we went to Ihop and I came really close to throwing up again. Then she told like 8 different people “that’s my daughter. She has a hangover.” Thanks! Thanks for telling all the strangers! But eventually she was able to drag me onto a trolley to the Garden District and I fell in freaking love.
2. If you want to charm me, take me to a really cool cemetery.
Ugh, the Garden District kills me! It was a beautiful day and we spent a bunch of time looking around one of these above-ground cemeteries (they’re called “cities of the dead” – so. cool.) I made my mom take a picture of me having so much fun in a cemetery and she made fun of me but I was really having that much fun! I love the history and the stories and the weirdness of cemeteries, even normal ones, so these ones killed me. So cool. And then after the cemetery we looked at the big pretty houses and putzed around in an antique store. Lovely. I want to live there. It’s beautiful.
Then we went on a jazz dinner cruise which is exactly what it sounds like, but there was some amazing people-watching happening up in there which made it worth the price of admission.
3. Nobody and I mean nobody in this world has a worse sense of direction than my mother.
Billy and I had a big fight one day about whether I-93 goes to I-95 from Boston and yes it does and I guess I was wrong even though that wasn’t even what I was saying! But if you’re from Boston you’ll understand that it was stupid of me to think that if you want to take 95 North you could just say to a person “take 95 North” and that would be enough. You have to take some 93 something first. Whatever. Old wound. Point being: I am bad at directions. But my mother is the queen of bad at directions. Every time she walked into a building in New Orleans and then walked out of the building she was instantly lost. I’ve never seen anything like it. My mom is a smart, funny, engaging woman. She knows her shit and she can charm almost anyone when she wants to. But I don’t know how she gets through the day with that sense of direction. It’s remarkable. She’s like a blind monkey. One of those smaller, stupider monkeys. Not the chimps. She’s not as good at directions as chimps probably are. Those chimps are clever.
4. Best Idea Ever: spicy pickled green beans.
In conclusion, we had a super awesome time. When I’m old I’m hoping I can convince Billy that we should winter in New Orleans. It’s kind of a magical place.