it wouldn't surprise me if the Superdome is the most hurricane-proof bit of NO.

Wouldn't the more aerodynamic round shape help with this in addition to the solidness of its construction?

I watched, and now I'm just...It's like they keep saying "if this" and "if that" and all those conditions seem to be met (except for the evacuation predictions thank bob.

David Blaine is a very, very good magician. It's his job to make it look like miracles, and he does.

Oof, I'm in denial about New Orleans. I love it so much. I don't wanna lose all my shotgun shacks!

I'm holding on to the fact that New Orleans has been notoriously disaster prone its entire existence and has weathered hurricanes and plagues and fires before.

There's just so much there that's irreplaceable.

There's just so much there that's irreplaceable.

You ain't lyin' Dude. I hope my friends and family will be ok, and I know their losses will be much greater than mine, but I'm terrified and crushed. It was never my home, but I adored it and went whenever I could. I skipped out on an 8th grade field trip to wander the streets by myself because I knew the place well enough to get back to the bus for roll call. I had my first drink there later that year (vodka and soda at the Hard Rock and I kept the reciept forever). I went to my first pro-choice rally in Old City Park and met Fay Waddleton. I used to visit my cousins and wave at the God Bless You Lady on our way to the streetcar. I saw my cousins graduate high school there. Mr. H and I spent our first Christmas together there. Mr. H and I were both in the wedding of one of my girls at her father's church there. I went to my first F2F there. And that's just the big stuff off the top of my head.

ETA- And now we're back to crying.

There's just so much there that's irreplaceable.

Yes. It's the one place I mention when I talk about places I didn't visit in the US that I really want to see.

From what I've heard on CNN and elsewhere, there are a lot of people still in New Orleans because they tried but just couldn't get out due to traffic or airport problems. 25,000+ at the Superdome, 1000+ at a third-floor hotel ballroom downtown.

WWL is broadcasting on the Internet. They're trying to be calm and professional, but you get the sense they're clearly scared to death.

The CNN shakycam shot of the Superdome is getting shakier... and it looks like the power is starting to go out in NOLA.

Favorite New Orleans Things...

Frenchman Street on a Friday night. Love it when the Marigny is hopping.

Pimm's Cup at Napoleon House. (Of course.)

Walking down Royal Street at 10:30 in the morning when the shops are just opening up.

Catfish bites and Abita Turbodog at The Praline Connection.

Lafayette Cemetary.

Lobster ravioli and ten cent martinis at Bucco.

Trashy Diva.

The place with the old carnival art and the wicker skeletons in the window.

That crazy gothpunk cafe with koi in the bathtub.

The chorus of frogs in the nursery that specialized in water plants.

Sitting in a hot tub in the evening, drinking wine, watching the wind move through the trees.

Tango dancing with JZ on a balcony on our honeymoon at Mimi's

Hearing a Cuban jazz band playing Monk and Ellington at Cafe Brasil - the music just pouring out onto the street.

The shotgun shacks dripping with Mardi Gras bits. The one with the bulldog on the front porch - Lulu.

Zydeco dancing at MidCity Lanes.

Old burlesque flyers and glass Mardi Gras beads and cast iron cameos in the antique shops.

Turning on the radio and hearing Smiley Lewis or Lee Dorsey.

Seeing the Flying Neutrinos playing trad jazz in Jackson Square in '86. Then 18 years later going up to Ingrid Lucia and saying I saw her when she was a 12 y.o. street singer.

Sitting on the balcony of our B&B in the Marigny and watching sassy dykes ride by on their tricked out bikes.

The Magazine Street arcade.

Shrimp remoulade - anywhere. But especially at Ugelisch's.

Getting off the St. Charles Streetcar and walking down through the Lower Garden District.

The bread pudding souffle at Commander's Palace.

The Carousel Bar that spins slowly around at the Hotel Monteleone.

Walking into the Saturn Bar and hearing Johnny Cash on the jukebox and seeing Johnny Guitar on the TV.

The French cafe on Ursuline near the old convent.

Waiting to get seated at Irene's where you're regaled by a bawdy piano player. The pompano there. The baked Alaska.

Pirate Alley cafe. Right next to the Faulkner bookstore.

I hope this guy makes it:

In the French Quarter, on a balcony above Bourbon Street, Tony Peterson leaned out over a railing festooned with gold, purple and green wreathes as Katrina’s first rains pelted his shaved head.

“I was going to the Superdome and then I saw the two-mile line,” the 42-year-old musician said. “I figure if I’m going to die, I’m going to die with cold beer and my best buds.”

And in other news, I got my first joboffer downunder. When they said, "unconventional marketing" my worst thought was that it'd mean I'd be in a giant hamburger with beetroot costume handing out coupons in front of McDonalds. Actually, it's a door-to-door salesmen thing, solely paid on commission, and hawking stuff like paintball sessions. On my first trial day, I got to visit a wholesale chicken warehouse. Now, chickens start out just meandering around, pecking at feed and clucking. And they end up in neat pieces wrapped in plastic in the chilled section at the supermarket. The chickens that were brought through while I tried to explain to the 70 year old receptionist what paintball was, well, they were in between those two states. I think I might be a vegetarian now.