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I met G at the memorial, which had moved to N’s house, which serendiptously was on the parade route. It was tough seeing the remnants of a man’s life – I perused his bookshelves and his art and thought, I could date a man like this – with books like Walker Percy’s Thanatos Syndrome and Greil Marcus’ Mystery Train front and center on the shelves. His fiance was talking about how they had all these plans – all these plans that now have no purpose – she was taking a job here, they were going to be married before Jazz Fest, she was going to meet all the friends who were now gathered in his living room for his funeral.

When G and I left, she said “it’s so weird” and I said get used to it honey. Tis the season. She said with all the men she has dated, it’s going to be a very long season.

We followed Krewe du Vieux into the Quarter and met up with P&R at Molly’s and from there we made it over to W’s hotel on Bourbon and went up and visited with the guys. W is a trader at my company and he was part of Colgate 13 – a group of acapella singers — 6 of them still get together every Super Bowl weekend – hence the trip here – we hung out on the balcony and watched the Crimson Tide hotties and I have to say I can’t believe how many bare breasts I had to bare witness to – areolas of all different size and colors – this is not going native – New Orleans girls do not offer their breasts up for public consumption. This is strictly going tourist.

Then we came inside and were treated to singing by the boys – it was great – at Danny Boy, they brought G and I tissues because we both said we would cry. Of course, after every song, I clamored for them to sing “Dick in the Box” – but they didn’t know all the words.

Later, we went to Rooster’s and ate breakfast and K came over and sat with us, so hot.

Makes you want to go to Turkey.

That’s the theme of Krewe du Vieux, the first Mardi Gras parade to start the season off. I’m meeting G in the Marigny because she has to attend a funeral service for an ex – not fun – but a good reminder that life is short, so enjoy. In the meantime, she snuck away from me yesterday to meet Big and I told her the bigger they are the harder they fall, but she can’t seem to back away from the flame – moth that she is. I got a call this morning encouraging me towards the flame and I said, uh uh, not going to do it. I’d rather be the flame instead.

Be the flame, Rachel. And on we go.

David stopped at the house this morning to measure the slab again and said that he was hoping to have everything put in by Friday.

Giovanni was at the house and he pulled me aside and pled the case for his second cousin Willie who has kids and needs some work and could I put him to work for a few weeks – G, I said, I don’t have any money despite what it looks like – I’m skating on thin ice to get this house done so that I can refinance and finish all the accumulating crap that needs to be done. You are a luxury – in case you don’t know.

I got a love note from an admirer and it made me smile. Just a little something something to boost my day.

I woke this morning and ran to Pilates – it was a sleepless night with Arlene chewing like her skin was peeling off – so after Pilates, I took her in only to find out she has a bad skin infection from her allergies and naturally $170 later there is all this stuff to do – so I ran home to bathe her in the expensive shampoo and wash and vacuum the world – not like I have anything to do today – ahem – but in the midst of all this flurry of activity snap, it comes to me that my life is so good, and crackle, I thought about Lousiana Avenue, which is the street I take to Pilates, which is also the street I grew up on when I was younger, but between the Can and Claiborne, it is a wasteland, houses blighted by Katrina, and this morning there was a small crew in haz mats reminding me that Katrina Katrina Katrina did us wrong, and then pop, an idea goes off in my head, that we are in flux, in the midst of change, of rebuilding, of redoing, rethinking, rebirthing, and that we are in the midst of an energy ball and so my liquid valium atmosphere that used to have such a calming effect on me is actually now a roiling cauldron of hopes and dreams and disappointments and disgust and that we are stretching ourselves every day to just deal.

The entourage is growing larger by the day – but en masse we made our way to the Marigny and Moosey made Santa Fe turn over the entire side of the restaurant to us – and it was wine, women and song all night.

You build your karma history with every step so you better make sure you know what you are doing because it all comes back – the good and the ugly – last night I was reminded of a road paved with gold, a karma-laden thoughtful path that has led me to here and so I gingerly stepped around the man coming at me like a house on fire – not that I wasn’t flattered – but I don’t want to perpetrate unrequited attraction – I sure don’t like it when it happens to me, so I try to do unto others as I’d like them to go about doing unto me.

I told G that if I die I want to be buried with my five finger elephant puppets and I want Who Shot the LaLa to be played at the funeral – she refused, insisting she wants to go first.

Then my work husband called and spoke to me of the twinkle in my eye and he made me sound irresistable, which of course is why he is my work husband and why I love him.

The next phone call was from the man who has the potential to make my eyes twinkle, but when he told me he had a date the next night, I decided to quit playing in his sandbox – he doesn’t act nice and gentle to me.

I spoke to a friend about going on a man fast – but as the LaLa gets done, and my time frees up, I now have time to fuel my imagination with things other than hardee board and mineral spirits and hinges and men with tool belts who I need to show up and do things I cannot do – with this free space and time I can now let my imagination dwell on more pleasant things.

I received in the mail five elephant finger puppets – don’t ask – but when you put them on one hand and wiggle your fingers around like mad it creates this crazy sensation – so then you say to yourself, huh, let’s put this to music, and you know by the fact that they are wearing blue batik print that they want to do Elvis Costello’s Everyday I Write the Book – and soon, you got this little elephant band singing on key (the magic of ventriloquy helps the “on key” part) – wow – how cool is that? – I wish five finger puppets arrived in my mailbox every day!

Let me just say that if that groundhog saw his shadow I am going to throttle then drop kick him. It was supposed to be warm here in the Big Breezy but again it is cold. Like 40 something degree cold, which is simply unacceptable for us down here in the Gulf South. We live here because our bodies cannot and will never adjust to cold. We don’t like snow, which we refer to as white death, and we absolutely do not like cold weather. No matter if it allows us to wear fake furs and such.

Word just in via G, who actually reads the news, the g-hog did NOT see his shadow – early spring – woo hoo – do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight. Watch out.

I called the building inspector to ask him if he had gotten my final permit ready. He said it was nuts there yesterday but he will do it this morning and then fax it to me. I told him I didn’t have a fax and could he put it in the mail. He said I can do better, I’ll drop it by your house because I have to get my wife’s windshield wipers changed right across the bayou from your house, so I’ll bring it by this afternoon.

Would this have happened preK – probably. Welcome to New Orleans where sometimes the service is above and beyond those other cities that seem to run so effortlessly.

I ruefully dreamed last night of Sam smiling and running around me – I was walking out a front door and he was following close beside me. He was my buddy for 14 years, my first Corgi, a Pembroke while Arlene is a Cardigan. He had the best smile and he was cracker jack smart with the best understanding of the English language I have ever witnessed in a non-human – able to make distinctions between French Whore and Cookie. He even knew who the French Whore in reference was (the cologne gave it away).

When I was waking from the dream, Sam was lying on his side, looking much the way he did when I put him down four years ago. I woke feeling sad but then the more I remembered the dream, I was happy to have seen Sam again, running around and smiling, even if only for a dreamlike moment.