Oh Maria, sending much ~ma to your uncle and your whole family.

{{{{{{amyth & maria}}}}}}}}

ION, I think I may have a problem. I had my 3rd dream that had Keith Olbermann in it. This time we were both on some kind of marketing comittee and he was not very helpful. He was mostly a background character, but it is still disturbing how often he turns up.

I hope he starts his new job soon so he doesn't have time to haunt my dreams.

Next time you see him, ask him to haunt Erika's dreams.

I'll give it a try!

I'm sorry amyth and Maria. Sickness and death in the family is about the suckiest thing to have to deal with.

In other sucky news, due to sucky work related stuff, I can't go home for Mardi Gras. I just had to tell my cousins and sobbed quietly at my desk while writing the message.

I know it's really nothing compared to everything else, but I am so fucking family and home sick. I had to write a blog post about Mardi Gras for work today, and I just feel horrible now. I ended it with this from Chris Rose, ""To encapsulate the notion of Mardi Gras as nothing more than a big drunk is to take the simple and stupid way out, and I, for one, am getting tired of staying stuck on simple and stupid.

Mardi Gras is not a parade. Mardi Gras is not girls flashing on French Quarter balconies. Mardi Gras is not an alcoholic binge.

Mardi Gras is bars and restaurants changing out all the CD's in their jukeboxes to Professor Longhair and the Neville Brothers, and it is annual front-porch crawfish boils hours before the parades so your stomach and attitude reach a state of grace, and it is returning to the same street corner, year after year, and standing next to the same people, year after year--people whose names you may or may not even know but you've watched their kids grow up in this public tableau and when they're not there, you wonder: Where are those guys this year?

It is dressing your dog in a stupid costume and cheering when the marching bands go crazy and clapping and saluting the military bands when they crisply snap to.

Now that part, more than ever.

It's mad piano professors converging on our city from all over the world and banging the 88's until dawn and laughing at the hairy-shouldered men in dresses too tight and stalking the Indians under Claiborne overpass and thrilling the years you find them and lamenting the years you don't and promising yourself you will next year.

It's wearing frightful color combination in public and rolling your eyes at the guy in your office who--like clockwork, year after year--denies that he got the baby in the king cake and now someone else has to pony up the ten bucks for the next one.

Mardi Gras is the love of life. It is the harmonic convergence of our food, our music, our creativity, our eccentricity, our neighborhoods, and our joy of living. All at once."

That's the shit I miss (and maybe a bit of the drunken debauchery too).

Now I want to go to Mardi Gras too. I'm sorry for the work slam, DJ.

And the Saints released Shockey. Feh.

Maybe it's like Northern Exposure, quester, and you got mine. I'll keep an eye on my dreams over the next few days...maybe I'll have something of yours.

That's a fabulous quote about Mardi Gras.

now i want to go to mardi gras. after having to cancel my (tentative) plans to visit NoLa this spring due to financial insolvency.

{{{{amyth}}}}

{{{{maria}}}} and continued ~ma to everyone involved