Van Gogh or Picasso?

My friend A. and I drove all the way to Metairie two nights ago to do these totally awesome paintings:

Sorry. Not for sale.

I did the boats.

Basically these people sit you down in front of a canvas with a faint sketch on it. They display a finished version of your painting, give you a paper plate with the colors they think you'll need and give you a skinny brush and a fat brush. Then you go to town.

Imagination Required

We sorta thought there might be more instruction. When I asked someone working there where she thought I should start, she said "the outside," then the next lady to come by said I should have started with the blue inside. Whatever. The original actually used brown and orange for the water but I liked blue and green better.

We got to drink wine while we painted and I only dipped my paintbrush into my wine cup once!

When I got home, Elbow said my painting was "okay" or something like that instead of encouraging my new hobby. It's pretty sad since I was planning on creating paintings for all my family members for their birthdays this year.

I don't see so good!

I broke my glasses. You have to see them. This is what living in New Orleans does to you and your possessions.

Seriously?

There is a benefit to bars closing at 2 a.m. It prevents the following from happening: sitting around with friends on the patio, having some cocktails, maybe some shots, getting some food from the pork truck parked outside (it's better than it sounds!). Then hitching a ride in a mustang (yep and the driver blares techno music) to another bar for some more patio chillin'. And then somebody saying "Holy crap. It's 4:30."

Like 4:30 a.m. Like normally I wake up in 1 1/2 hours from now. An incident like this can really ruin your next day. And your glasses. I guess I slept on them. And then Buddy! chewed them. But honestly, I really don't know what happened.

This is not a usual Friday evening for me. I would much rather go to happy hour, eat dinner and go to bed by 11. I like to be productive during the day. But when the lights never come on in the bar and the bartender never asks you to close your tab, bad things can happen. You've been warned.

In other news, here is another example of how bosses everywhere are trying to turn their office employees into chunk-sters:

I want a Nutty Buddy REALLY bad

Instead I ate plain crackers and snap peas. It tasted about as interesting as this blog post.

Gotta run. Tomorrow I'll show you my masterpiece I painted at the drink-wine-while-you-paint shop. Guess which painting I picked: Painting Gallery of Choices No it was not "Fan Nation."

We saw Vince Vaughn!!!

It's so cool to live in New Orleans. Well, actually it's really frickin' hot. But you get used to it once you remember to never wear synthetic fabrics.

My sister came to visit last weekend. And we passed Vince Vaughn on the street walking in front of Jackson Square in the French Quarter (the locals just say "the Quarter" or "that place we generally avoid").

I was trying to be all cool and just elbowed my sister until she looked up. Subtlety didn't work so I had to add, "Look at this guy." And then she finally noticed and excitement got the better of us and we both were all, "That's Vince Vaughn" at the same time and then we giggled. Because it's fun to see famous people. Also he totally checked us out over the top of his aviators as we passed. I'm sure we're not special in this regard, but I'm still gonna claim it!

The funny thing is he looks exactly like he does in his movies: Pic. Only chubbier. And his hair was sorta crazy.

After that, we felt so Hollywood that we went to the French Market and bought fedoras and big sunglasses, like the Olsen twins. Except we're smiling.

Mary-Kate and Ashley