River Road Rant

So this morning I brought my friend to the airport, allowing her to leave me for a month. Afterwards, I drove down River Road-- the road that hugs the curves along the Mississippi and the valiant levees that protect us from her-- towards Baton Rouge, for an hour, for no reason whatsoever, thinking and listening to Rufus Wainwright.

I hate airports. They take important people out of my life, sometimes neglecting to return them to me for long periods of time.

I love airports. Of course because they bring me friends and loved ones from time to time, but also for another important reason.

For me, the airport is the embodiment of freedom, possibility, independence, and growth. My first flights to Chicago, Costa Rica, and New Hampshire all had very deep, significant, personal meaning attached to them. For each of these, I remember well the music I was listening to, the desires and concerns eating my thoughts, and the dizzy thrill I felt upon descent into the new area.

The exhilarating potential and power of that first sight of the big city skyline, the welcomingly lush and enveloping green of my first international arrival, the frightening uncertainty with which I regarded those stately, sharply pointed New England roofs that I had seen only in movies: these moments-- all spent completely by myself-- are crystallized and suspended in time forever in my mind.

I also associate my craziest impulses with the good old Louis Armstrong International. The New Orleans airport is less than a ten minute drive from my house, and from time to time I get the urge to just zip on over, catch a plane to anywhere (or somewhere specific, if there's a boy involved), and have myself an adventure.

But now I am reminded of a quote by my beloved Chris Rose:

She is a New Orleans girl and New Orleans girls never live anywhere else and even if they do, they always come back. That's just the way it is. To hell with no house, no car, no job, no prospects. This is where she belonged. End of discussion.-Chris Rose, The Times-Picayune

Am I this girl? Most of the time I feel like I am... it's one reason why I'm going to LSU.

But I don't know, and I don't want to apologize for that. I won't. I love it here, but the road ahead is uncertain for the area, and sometimes the airport calls me. And it's my life.

I know in these next few years I will learn a lot more about myself, my attitude towards the Louis Armstrong International Airport, and my feelings toward the area in general. And these feelings will decide the future relationship between myself and my dear Louis and Louisiana.

That is all.

File Clerk by day, Lovesick Girl by..... day

or...

Raul Goes to Europe

So here's the deal- May: Costa Rica was Rica, but not as Rica as if with Rafa. But I'm not going to lie, I was a happy girl and felt quite at home.

June to Now: I'm working at a nice law firm, which is a fine enough way to pass my remaining time before law school, I suppose. It's not glamorous though; I copy, print, file, rinse and repeat. But I prefer it to the previous two weeks, when I indexed boxes. And I am the receptionist in the morning, so I won't name the firm to avoid prank calls.

Saturday, Raul left Costa Rica for Belgium to be with the stupid Youth Orchestra of the Americas. It's this idiotic idea where talented young musicians tour together in a show of Western Hemisphere spirit. I hate those fools, going all over Europe for free, getting free drinks and ass kisses from rich people.

Don't get all offended, I just miss Raul. It's so weird, because by the time I finish writing this, it will be almost midnight for me. That's past time for me to go to bed... and the time when Raul get's up. So it's like the sun never sets on my aching heart.

This brings me to the word of the day: Cheezy

Keke and indulged in some nice cheeses this weekend. We liked the buttery one, and I realized that snobs and I have more in common than I thought. It was like two slices of cheese for 10 dollars, but I felt obligated to pitch in after I spilled beer all over my favorite girl. (Although, seriously, it was the table's fault).

I'm feeling pensive lately, and I have lots of time on my hands. So maybe more will be happening here. No promises, though.