Had a horrible time sleeping last night. I kept tossing and turning between thoughts of New Orleans and what I need to do to fix my novel up. I've been to the Big Easy at least 5 or 6 times. I'd even been thinking about spending some vacation time this year there. It's hard to imagine what has happened to it.
New Orleans is where I went to compete in a National Oratory competition after winning state. It's the one city I actually snuck off to once with friends (we lived close by -- don't tell mom). It's one of the first places Tony and I visited together. I've attended conferences there. Had a hurricane from Pat O'Brien's. Ate at two of Emeril's restaurants. Held my nose at the literal stink of Bourbon Street. Got beads from the same street performer years apart. Covered myself in powdered sugar while eating beigneits. Smelled the heavenly scent of pralines being made.
I had to stop looking at the pictures of the devestation. I just can't look anymore.