In June 2006 I moved back to New Orleans after a 10 month hiatus living in Portland, Oregon. I moved to a quaint albeit tiny...very tiny, studio on Lower Decatur. I could stand in the middle of the room and move and inch one side to the other and be able to touch the walls. I could spit from one end of the apt and the spit would land in the bathroom, on the other end of the apt. Does that give you any idea how small my studio was? Really fucking small.
One morning I stopped at Envie, one of my favorite coffee shops 2 doors down from my cage *ahem* studio apartment. As I walked out with my vanilla latte, I took a left turn on Governor Nicholls and strolled up to the dog park to let Clementine and Captain Murphy run around and do their thang.
Along the way I encountered a man the size of Lou Ferrigno wearing a black leather skirt, a black beret, a long red wig, black silk blouse, fishnet stockings, 6 inch heels and wielding a riding crop.
As I passed him I looked over to my friend and said "AND THAT... is why I love New Orleans."
glad to see that your blogging again. Considering yourself officially "followed".
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