Need me to stand in traffic? Everyone is miserable.

Going back to work after Mardi Gras is not fun. EVERYONE is hungover and on some kind of diet restriction. Whether it's for Lent or just your annual "March cleanse" (thank you to my friend J.K. for that one), everyone I know is now restricting themselves in some way.

Today my boss ordered me to Poydras Street to take pictures of a building for the second day in a row. Apparently my Samsung-snapped shots of the frickin' toilet papered streets of New Orleans aren't exactly what she had in mind for her commercial banking brochure.

So I stand in traffic in Downtown New Orleans and try to crop out the porta potties, garbage, hazard signs and homeless people still littering the streets after seven days of hardcore partying. The employees behind the floor to ceiling windows are starting to look worried and eventually send out a security guard with PINK gold teeth to ask me what the h#ll do I think I'm doing. And didn't she see me yesterday, too?

So then I have to go in the bank and explain who I am and why I'm recording them on my cell phone. Fortunately, there is no HR person around to tell me they need proof of permission. B/c I don't have that.

I gave up cheese. In an effort to curb my binge-eating tendencies I cut a few items from my diet. I figure I'll carry on this behavior until my big fat June wedding and then I'll reevaluate (read: pig out on the honeymoon). So here is what I pretend I don't eat currently: cheese, pork, french fries and soda (pop, cold drink).

So when my boss is extra cranky this week I try not to take it too personally. We were all at the same big party and we are all now repenting. When I came home from work yesterday and told Elbow how much work sucked, he said "Work sucked for everybody in New Orleans today." Tru dat.

Happy Ash Wednesday! Here's your Mardi Gras porn.

I was not going to go out on Mardi Gras day. There is a tradition here that everyone wears a costume, weird or sexy or whatever, and walks to the Marigny and the French Quarter neighborhoods. From our house to the R Bar in the Marigny is 4.2 miles and an hour-and-23-minute walk according to Google Maps.

Since Elbow threw the male equivalent of a hissy fit when I said I wasn't wearing a costume or schlepping it to the Quarter, I woke up at 7:23 a.m. yesterday, put on sparkly tights and jorts and poured myself some cheap sparkling wine. Aaah, drunk people are so funny in the morning.

First stop was to our friend's St. Charles Avenue place to meet the Louisiana Festival Queens. Here they are in all their glory. There were supposed to be more of them but some must have needed extra beauty sleep.

So I totally don't fit in this picture, but see how I instinctively knew to bend one knee?

We met up with a small group and hitched a ride in the back of G's truck, which he parked . . . somewhere. I hope he found it. But we don't know because at 3 pm, Elbow abruptly decided he'd had enough. We had to leave behind the fun and the Tex Mex tacos I had ordered and already paid for.

Here's a snapshot of the day, plus a bonus from Sunday morning. You have to see what this lady caught. And on the Lord's day! For shame.

View of St. Charles Avenue

The crowd at the R bar

The Kiss in real time

2 dudes

Trippy

 

Pretty Good

Waiting for the tacos that never came

These 2 were almost nekked

Like the Wizard of Oz, but more enthralling

What's it going to say?!?

Bourbon Street

Dancing Girls

Is that Franco Harris?

Hail the King

You get bum and belly in this one

Again, weird

Peacock

Purple Drink

The coveted peepee beads

Muses: Shoulder Stands and Shoes

Came in second at State 4 years in a row

Yep, I still got it. Here's me and M. after we executed a perfect shoulder climb. I used to do this all the time back in the college days. Only sober.

This time I did with thousands of screaming angry drunk people. Yes, angry. The parade on Thursday night known as Muses makes people angry. The ladies who ride (you gotta get the lingo down when you live in NoLa. Parades "roll." People in them "ride" and people on the ground catch "throws.") decorate all these sparkly feathery and pretty much horrendous shoes and then are very choosy about to whom they throw.

The crowd's reaction is to push and shove anyone who gets in their way to grovel to the Muses ladies for a shoe they can put on their mantle and brag to their friends about it. Do I sound bitter? Maybe because I didn't get a damn shoe and I put a 27-year-old on my shoulders! C'mon!

After the parades, where we drank daiquiris (thanks K&J), Crown (M only) and Fosters (me- the oil can was only $5), we went back to The Amelia and ate Popeyes and then I walked 15 blocks home. Is this why I didn't remember to put the little plastic coffee filter holder in the coffee pot this morning? There was coffee all over the counter, on the cabinets and the floor.

Here's some more pics. After the weekend I'll have lots more. Stay tuned. I hope everyone in other cities is enjoying being able to drive freely through your neighborhoods. We lost that privilege 2 days ago.

Setting up their spots and using the kids as place holders

Has anyone seen the movie Drop Dead Gorgeous? There's a parade with a giant swan and it blows up and kills Denise Richards.

Happy Valentine's Day all you Men in the Grocery Store!

Valentine's Day is like any other day in New Orleans: People dress up in bright colors and scramble to find weird ingredients or novelty items to celebrate a semi-fictional holiday. Yes, I know Mardi Gras has deep historical and traditional roots, but that's not the reason that anyone celebrates it nowadays.

Valentine's Day happens on the very same day every year and y'all have plenty of television commercials featuring Jane Seymour to remind you. Still, there were no fewer than 20 men in the grocery story at lunchtime buying flowers.  One guy had carnations and one of those giant heart-shaped boxes of candy. And I was extremely jealous. I didn't know anyone actually got those things on Valentine's Day. Gentleman, woman may pretend we're annoyed you bought us cheapo chocolate candy from the supermarket, but in reality I'll take some Russell Stover any day! Bring on the weird pink foam filling!

New Downtown Grocery Store = Fancy

Carnival Season A-GAIN

I've eaten 17 pieces of king cake in three weeks. I found the baby twice. My favorite cake is from PJ's Coffee. The favorite of my office so far is the expensive-a*# one from Il Posto, which is really from La Boulangerie. Hint: It's $6 cheaper if you buy it from La Boulangerie.

Yesterday we took Buddy! to watch the Krewe of Barkus, where he caught a giant stuffed banana. Elbow and I caught some cups, but none of the novelty plastic poo that I really want.

And the little Bud-man was so tired after the parade, he slept from 6 pm to 6 am straight through. Here's a picture of the possessed (it's in the eyes) dog in his too-small turtle costume pre-gaming for the parade:

This party-goer needs a Bloody Mary STAT

 Our friends had a swanky engagement party for us. Here's a picture of the mini-cake. Look, I'm possessed, too:

5 seconds from smashing my face into this cake

This week we have lots more parades and lots more parties. Some of my girlfriends are going as festival queens, but I think my costume this Mardi Gras day is going to be "woman hiding in living room eating cake and watching Emma Stone chick flicks." Elbow is going as "Whatever Woman, I'm going out."