The pink note in the Ziplock Bag attached to the purple bike says, “The same kids that stole your tire today, stole it last month. I called the cops @ 4:52PM to report it. They have my contact. I was on the police report last month as well.”
1st day in NOLA. For novices, NO stands for New Orleans, LA stands for Louisiana. Don’t feel bad, until today, I was a novice, too.
On vacation with my brother. Here for Jazz Fest.
Forgive me if I don’t write as much. Before we left, I considered posting a headline announcing I was going to be away from the blog for the next 6-days. But lately, I’ve been on such a roll, I’m addicted to the roll.
So Fuck It. Right?
Gonna try and stay away from politics. Gonna try. Probably not gonna succeed. But I owe it to myself. Gonna try.
Can’t remember the last time I kissed a beautiful stranger. Rio? I think it was Rio, a year ago, October.
So I can remember the idea of attraction. But I can’t remember what attraction feels like.
I get it intellectually. But I’ve forgotten what it feels like. There’s a difference, a big difference.
Don’t like when I’m asked if I’m gay or straight. Truth is, in my life, right now, I’m neither. Truth is, in my life, right now, I’m lonely. Don’t get me wrong, I can handle being lonely. I good at it, filling my life with the joyful grind of running a family business.
Lately, I’ve been in love with work, it’s a healthy relationship.
Don’t like when I’m asked why I’ve never been married. It feels judgmental. It feels icky. I’d never ask a married person why they’ve never been divorced, even though, as far a I can tell, divorce is a gift, from your older self to your younger self.
Judgmental. Icky. Right? That’s what it sounds like, on my side, when someone asks why I’ve never been married.
It’s not married people. It’s not single people. It’s not straight people. It’s not gay people. It’s lonely people. We should be worried about lonely people.
Trust me, the loneliest people are married people. It’s a secret, a big secret.
The line outside of Mother’s Restaurant stretched down the ramp, running the length of the brick wall. Inside, my brother ordered a Crawfish Etouffee Omelet with Cheesy Grits, Biscuits and a side of Meat Debris Gravy.
2nd day in NOLA. Already, we’re pros.