Home Sweet Home (almost)

It feels good to have a home. Of course, visiting parents will always be "going home", but it's exciting and satisfying to be building our own home down here in New Orleans, especially after so many months of wandering without a homebase. It's a pretty slow process given we don't have a lot of extra cash lying around to spend on redecorating. But with every small new piece we bring in, every wall we paint, every shelf we fill, it becomes more and more our home.

So far we've got:

a bed
two nightstands
a desk
1 chair
a small dresser
a small couch
a kitchen table
3 kitchen chairs

And clocks! Kelly loves clocks, and we've got two cute ones so far.


Considering we've got 4 rooms plus a kitchen and a bathroom to fill, it's still mostly empty space. The apartment is half of a small house, running long and narrow front-to-back (shotgun, railroad, whatever). From the front door our rooms will go: living room; bedroom; guest bedroom; bathroom; dining room; kitchen. We've put up some great colors - red, blue, green. I think by the time we get done with it this apartment is going to be awfully cute. Patience is not one of my virtues, however, and I would really just love to have it all done and ready for use!

With my copious free time I've been getting to know this new city block by block. Of course, much time is spent researching possible jobs and bicycling from one bakery/hotel/restaurant to another in hopes of landing some sort of interesting position. But that can only take up so many hours in the day. So I come up with a billion little errands I need to run or things to do around the house to keep myself busy (read: away from Netflicks). I found a pretty awesome bike for cheap on Craig's List, which is where most of my life seems to have been acquired. Despite the already oppressive heat - 87 and muggy in May?? - I ride miles around this city's rough, potholed roads. Unfortunately this means I show up everywhere pouring sweat, but a paper towel folded into a small square and kept in a back pocket helps to maintain some semblance of composure.


Our neighborhood, the Garden District, is very bike friendly as most of the roads are residential and little-trafficked. In fact, most of the city is accessible by bike as there's not a hill in sight! Quite a change from San Francisco. However, despite the absence of snowy icy winters, New Orleans has some of the worst roads I've ever seen in a developed country. Like, seriously bone-jarring bumps and sinkholes and cracks. Kelly tells me that once upon a time all states were given leave to determine their own legal drinking age, with the stipulation that those who established it at less that 21 would miss out on federal funding for road development. Of course New Orleans placed itself in this latter category, and has apparently not been able to recover since. Too bad my bike doesn't have shocks.


The residents here are about as different from SF as you can get. Though I spend most of the day on my own, there's no shortage of conversation. Every cashier, fellow bus-rider, and pedestrian you meet is likely to call you either "baby" or "sugar" within the first sentence of your exchange. Old men sitting on their stoops call out to me as I ride by, not with lewd remarks but with greetings. It's amazing how making eye contact with people as you pass them on the sidewalk, and giving a little nod or smile of "hello", makes you feel intimately part of the New Orleans community. I think this city's already hooked me, and I think I like it.

I guess I'm turning Southern. Next thing you know I'll be sitting out on my porch swing in the heat, sipping sweet tea and chatting with my neighbors. Wait - I already do that! :)