Hipster Sleepovers

Saturday – Monday I was in New Orleans.  Just cause.

As per usual, New Orleans was fantastic.  As soon as we got into the city we stood in line for Acme Oyster House.

This happened.

 

 

Sunday we went to breakfast at The Ruby Slipper.  It’s fantastic because they only serve breakfast, brunch, and lunch.  BUT they’re open until like 8pm.  WHY DON’T WE HAVE THIS PLACE IN HOUSTON. Bonus points for them Irish creaming up my coffee at 11am in the am.

 

Then we walked the French Quarter and went to the farmers market and oogled some goods and gave away dollars to street performers.   I wrestled back and forth with the idea of bringing my big camera with me becuase we were staying with our friend who is a wonderful artist and generally great person (see: OddButComplete).  She told us Sunday morning she was going down to the swamps to do some shooting (photo, not alligator like we thought; which would make her the worst vegan ever) and if I would have taken my camera with me I would have joined her.  But I was really there to enjoy the city, not take a ton of pictures.

 

We went to visit a palm reader that blew our minds with her ability to judge people or palm read.  Whatever the case may be.  Then we got into this reaaaaaaaaly existential conversation on religion and judgy folks and why people think someone could be gifted and blessed enough to lead congregations but not be gifted and have a booth in Jackson Square.  I’m not here for Bible verse to prove one way or the other.  We were being existential.

After a pit stop to watch some of the playoffs, we were back out down to Frenchman’s for the short hour and thirty minute wait to eat at Adolpho’s.  Last time we waited about 2:15, so this was quite the improvement.  It’s a tiny establishment that is cramped and really just an apartment but nobody cares because the food is worth it.  Bonus points for there being an open artist market next door to spend time and money while we waited.

When we got outside we sat and listened to some music and danced in the street.  Because, New Orleans.

 

Sadly, I did not get a picture of the hippie dancing and praying.  He was simply fantastic.

So of course when we got back to Danielle’s we got back into the psychic talk.  She told us that she’d been watching the American Horror Story series and they were filming in New Orleans since it’s about witches and whatnot.  Apparently a lot of the myths and legends are based on real people.  One of the women (Madame LaLarurie) had been killing slaves and performing postmortem exams on the bodies.  The people only found out because of a fire.  It was so bad they ran her out of town.  You can just walk up to the house whenever.  Apparently it was owned by the evil genius (Community anyone??) Nicolas Cage until that tax thing.

I told Ariel that I respect the ocean (and space) so I make a point to get over the bridges as quickly as possible on the trip there. (I have yet to cross a space bridge but I mean we live in the future so just wait for it).  Same goes for the dead.  Just, how could you not believe in ghosts? Ghost talk lead to religious talk lead to sexuality talk lead to feminist talk lead to capitalist talk lead to activist talk.

And when I was 10 if you would have told me that I would be up until 3am discussing politics with friends and enjoying it?!  I’d be flabbergasted.  I’m sure I knew that word at 10.  Yes,as a kid you’d stay up late and scare your friends with ghost stories and mess with the person who went to sleep first.  But late 20s/early 30s?  Just crazy.  You scare each other with talks of inequality and mental health issues facing the community.  Have I achieved extreme hipster status?  We questioned everything.

Sunday we went to Surrey’s for breakfast and I had bananas foster french toast and boudin patties.  Y’all.  Why can’t I eat this every day?! I SHOULD BE ABLE TO! It was just…no words will do it justice.

Danielle was then kind enough to drive us around the city until we got hungry again because after lunch at Parkway Poboy’s we were leaving and the girls told me I HAD to eat at Parkway’s.

So we went down to the lower 9th Ward, the part of town still recovering from Katrina.  Which is crazy because I know that was in 2005.  We could see how the area was impacted when we literally saw the elevation of the neighborhood compared to the elevation of the levees.  It’s literally the lower 9th ward.

Yeah.

Then we got to see the beautiful City Park and you realize that New Orleans is a wonderful city that real people live in (unfortunately, I did not see Brad Pitt) and it wasn’t until we got home that I realized we didn’t set foot on Bourbon Street.  I KNOW!  Crazy adults!

It’s good to feel ways about things with friends who feel ways about things.  I don’t plan on too many sleepovers at this age but it’s nice to know they still happen.

Feel free to discuss anything 🙂