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So I told E about the last two weeks and she was like hmmm – ok here is what I want from you, I want you to go home and your homework assignment for the next two weeks is to tell me what the transition is from the feral Rachel to the domestic Rachel. I said, I’ll try.

When a tornado, they don’t name those, is ripping apart maybe the only area that didn’t get hit by Hurricane Katrina, levee break, Hurricane Rita and the like – you have to ask yourself how do you just go on – but really where are you going to run and hide? There is no where to go.

As I told Steve on the phone today when he was talking about what and where he might live or relocate to – I am thoroughly at home here – New Orleans is it – short of living here – I am going to cast myself in the sea – perhaps he understood, perhaps he didn’t. You either feel strongly about a person, place or thing – or you don’t.

I feel that strongly about New Orleans – E would like me to get passed my past and move on – I would like to just enjoy my life here in the Crescent City and perhaps swing from the rafters at whim, but I have no motivation to do otherwise.

S called me on her way to meet us – but I was no longer there – I asked her if she was hooked up because I hadn’t seen her in a millenium – “Oh I wish” she said – then she said, wait – said, “I don’t know why I said that, I don’t mean it. I just said it.” I laughed out loud.

What a day – well let’s forget about that – there was the 2AM wake up where Arlene needed a storm tranquilizer and then there was the no electricity all day – and then I did most of my interviews on the porch at the LaLa (which wasn’t bad) and then I went to see E but it was a madhouse there because Brad is filiming a period piece with Kate Blanchett in that building and then after, I ran to Metairie to take a shower at mom’s and she is still bedridden and then it was back to get to Swirl and see the girls and bring them See’s Nuts and Chews – and then off with a little party to La Vita and then it became a big party and my friend called and said her date was worse than imagined and so she was soon joining us and earlier I had been accosted by another friend who wanted me for V-day and another spelled out plans for V-day and I held up my hand to all and said STOP – I am dating myself and V-day, which has been a wasteland for so many years, but now is in my hands (see, interrupted here at 11:08 PM by S wishing me happy valentine’s day).

I asked my dear dear friend why is she out with someone she doesn’t want to be with when there’s so many more options? Like dating yourself. I have a blast with me.

Meanwhile tomorrow is my guilty pleasure – I take a bath at the LaLa as soon as Giovanni leaves. Then onto Muses. Yes. I’m thrilled.

I asked my colleague in China what it means that this year – the Chinese New Year – and it being the year of the pig – is being touted as the Golden Year of the Pig – and this is his response:

Rachel,

People born in the Year of the Pig are honest, sincere and genuine. But this is a speacial year of the golden pig.

The Chinese calendar has a 12 year cycle and each year is named after an animal. People born in each of these years are said to have the above characteristics.

According to the Chinese New Year books, people born in the year of the pig also have a heart of gold and people admire them tremendously. They are called upon when sincere advice is needed and will always give a helping hand. Pig people are the best friends anyone can have. They are fun-loving and know how to throw a good party, but if you anger or hurt them, they can be extremely vengeful. They can also be naive, which allows others to take advantage of them. They have a great thirst for knowledge.

The year of the Golden Pig—-The lunar calendar gives each year one of 12 zodiac signs and years rotate through the five elements – gold, wood, water, fire and earth.

Children born when the Year of the Pig coincides with the element of gold, something that happens every 60 years, are said to be blessed.

Women in China and South Korea are flocking to have babies this year. Because they see this as a very auspicious year.

South Korea is going a step further, saying it’s the best time in 600 years to have a baby due to an anomaly on the Chinese calendar where this pig year — known as “red,” the color of wealth, follows a year with two days to mark the start of spring.

Does that make sense now?

Pilates to start, then interviewing my television sources, then past fires dealt with, and new fires ignited and before you know it I have not left my desk to even breathe since early morning and now it is afternoon. Giovanni is already gone so I take the adirondak chairs up to the terrace and bring over some more dishes. Finally, a shower. A meeting on crime in the neighborhood. Pick up G for dinner at La Vita. M and F join us.

We are all tired.

Stopped in at Bacchanal to return Rusty’s carrier – Chris was sympathetic – I told him I had been apoplectic – showed him my scars – which N used to always spell “scares” – R was still with me and we were going to head to Marky’s because I didn’t want to get sucked into the spell of Bacchanal – but instead we wound up at La Vita where we ate lasagna, bruschetta, caprese salad, white bean salad – hips don’t lie – no bike ride today, just work on the LaLa, all day, and some parading – M, S and F all joined us but I begged off a late night and came home to check on my injured Bean. R had opened the back of the truck and didn’t catch Arlene who fell into the street and injured her leg and cried so loud my heart was cracking in two – I rushed around and dropped to the ground to cradle her in my arms as she howled and moaned.

She was limpy when I got home, but I prodded and pinched her leg and so it isn’t broken – just sore.

The Bean – sigh – she cries and thunderclaps go off in my head.

On the banks of the bayou took flight a Great Blue Heron and then a Great White Egret swooped behind him who was followed by one of a dozen of Brown Pelicans – George, the landscape guy I was speaking to at the time said he fishes often – I like a man who fishes – and said while he is cleaning his fish the pelicans surround him, in the water, behind him, and on the side of him, and when he opens the fish up, the pelicans behind him open their wing span, not to intimidate but to show interest – and he feeds them – and he says, the pelicans are odd and clumsy looking but they fly with grace – and isn’t it the contrast that intrigues us.

Does anyone remember John Belushi – rotund but graceful – how he could cartwheel practically across the landscape and retain such economy of movement – and that is when we pay attention – if he had been a waif, so what? – if he had been clumsy, of course – but he was a large man and full of grace – ah, the contradictions are so attractive.

Isn’t it the hotties who belie the art of sexual fulfillment – those beauitful men and women – but yet so boring in and out of bed – how many times have I heard this, or the times I have even experienced it first hand – and yet everyone wants to sleep with them, the beauties – just once – have sex with a narcissist and your eyes will never form enough of a mirror to satisfy her needs.

It’s the Great Blue Heron that flies through the air gracefully not caring if you are there to see it.

R says, don’t walk so fast, I can’t keep up – and I say I can’t walk slow – she says when I ask the fourth person which way the parade goes, you are “something” – and I say yes, I am – I want to see the parade – I feel this * close – and then she sees the parade and understands what has compelled me to leave the LaLa and hurry to bring Giovanni to the bustop and call her and tell her to get in the truck and come out to see the doggies – she gets why sitting at home and watching television might not compare – and the understanding is this – here we are in New Orleans and it’s Mardi Gras where a parade of dogs is going by and we can choose not to go – but that means we choose something else – certainly not TV for godsakes – I choose the DreamPugs – the parade – I choose Cosimos – the bar across from where I lived for years – Burgundy and Governor Nichols – I could say it like I could say I want a glass of water – so easily did that address roll off my tongue – and Cosimos where Ken – all 6’8″ of him – my own version of a Nordic god – would perch and wait for me to come home – the Love of my Life – tsk, but he fucked around on me, a lot, toughening up my young tender heart – I was 20 – wow, hard to believe I was ever 20 – he’d wait for me in that bar – they used to have big baskets of peanuts in the shell – he’d sit at the corner of the bar like a prenatural nightstalker observing my comings and goings and with whom – he’d wait till I was inside and then come knock on my shutters and I wouldn’t open them, but I’d speak from behind the slats – Ken? do you not know that you are killing me? that you have ripped my heart out? then what? go away.

he asked what did that mean – was it a slight when we pulled up and she said… – no – it was her overcoming what she thought was a slight by him – I tried to explain to her that at this tender age so much else goes into it – but she works in an industry that caters to the base element of man so she believes if the base element is resisting her than something is wrong – is it her? Is it him? – there begins the debate – I begin the debate with this, how does he make me feel – Desi(red)? Ado(red)? Inspi(red)? – and believe me those questions don’t make me feel any better than the questions she asks, but they evoke different responses.

I went to the house today with a bunch of boxes and Giovanni showed up – well I saw him on the bayou getting out of a cab as I was walking the Bean – and he approached me all guilty and I said whatever after he was a no show yesterday – and then I met him over there and he worked and I worked and so goes the work on the LaLa. But then he said he had to go at 2 and I said I wanted to catch Barkus and at the last minute, I called R and said want to go? – and what I like in an individual is spontaniety – she was ready in five minutes – and we were on our way trying to find parking amidst mayhem – but soon we were in the thick of the parade – and god knows I love a parade!

The theme of the Krewe of Barkus this year was A Street Dog Name Desire – and so we watched the stream of hot dogs, Stellas, a dachsund in a wife beater, a nurse, several nurses, Chihuahuas galore, big dogs, little dogs, dogs who ride on floats, fat dogs, skinny dogs, even dogs with glitter on – and fun was had by all.

Everyone loves the Bean – she took a lot of celebrity shots – everyone thinking she is Blue Dog.

Why should humans have all the fun? Today, the parade goes to the dogs as New Orleans canines go to the Quarter sporting their finest costumes. Arlene wants a piece of that action.