The Strangeness

New Orleans is... strange. Yesterday I walked down to Jefferson and St. Charles, then down to Magazine, then up to Napoleon and back up to St. Charles. All the mailboxes that used to be on the corners are gone. So I pretty much walked an entire square of uptown and failed to mail my letters.

Some houses are untouched, and others completely caved in from the wind. Very weird how hit or miss the damage was. Magazine Street is mostly open. I haven't spent much time in the flooded areas. We got about a foot or two here... but all evidence of that is gone except for the contents of people's furnished basements on the sidewalk. There's work going on constantly.

The business hours take some getting used to: even Popeyes closes at 6 or 7. Subway was closed at 6 when we walked down the other day. If you don't want sit-down or pizza (note: we still have no fridge after 2 weeks so have pretty much exhausted these food options-- can't we just run in and grab a sandwich?) there's pretty much no choice. Now, personally, if I were a fast food restaurant, I would just forgo being open 8-5 in favor of being open AT DINNER when people want food. But what do I know?

My classes don't start until January 30th, so I am pretty aimless. I am going to look at cars this weekend (another weird thing: literally every other car has temp plates signifying its being brand new). I have resolved, since Mike does not understand how I graduated in English having only read one of Dickens' works, that this week I am going to read Dickens. I doubt very many people sit down and go, "I think this week I'll read Dickens," but I have always been a little weird like that. I've banged through Great Expectations today. It's surprisingly good!

Oh, and for all the people who told me I needed to see A Love Song For Bobby Long, you were right. Mike and I really liked the movie (writers! alcoholic writers! in New Orleans!) and also enjoyed picking out the various places, though we would like to add that they are actually not in walking distance of each other as the movie suggests. Recognized the Camellia Grill (word word), but they stuck a female waitress in and took the camellia pictures down off the walls. Heh! Still recognized it. I am glad we saw that movie here and not in Boston!

The air smells like flowers here, especially after the sun goes down, and the sky is purple-ish. It's hard to say just exactly what it is about New Orleans... but I will say that to spend all day reading Dickens and drinking coffee is somehow OK here, while in Boston I felt like I ought to have been doing something "useful." Oh, strange New Orleans...