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Yesterday, it was not one, but several times I found myself in the eye of a hurricane – a relationship hurricane that is. A quick trip to the market to get some fruit and vegetables found me smack dab in the middle of a set-to between a couple of over ten years. Then my mother called to agonize over my sister’s impending divorce. Later, right when the gloaming was starting, I went outside to the bayou to the table and chairs my neighbor has out there and brought a glass of wine. I was waiting to call someone and ask them to dinner and the Saints game, when as a bunch of us were sitting there, another couple squabble erupted.

The response to my invitation was a pass (other obligations with children and such) and this morning as I walked through the park with Loca, the sun just breaking through the clouds on the horizon, a tortured twist of clouds preventing a mighty rise, I felt a sense of malaise kick in.

Both couples are ones that I admire and want the best for – individually and as couples. It breaks my heart to see where each is headed – a long list of miscommunications and misfirings and a certain weariness that prevents any of the four from accepting the partner’s foibles. What gives after a decade of togetherness? Is that when it falls apart?

Earlier, I was wondering what I was going to do for the Saints game and a friend asked, what do you want to do? and I said, well, I’d like to make dinner and have ___ come over and watch it with me. “Ask him,” the friend said. But I squirmed and writhed over issuing the invitation and my friend asked me what was at the heart of the matter. “Dunno,” I said. “This isn’t like you,” the friend said.

I told my friend I’m suffering from an unknowing. Not knowing why I feel or don’t feel the way I do. Am I scared to change this little piece of nirvana I’ve found for myself – worried that past habits will return and cloud my vision for living? Or was it a simple case of rejection fear? Or what?

The friend tugged at my prayer box pendant that I’ve been wearing again – and said, “You are a maverick. I look to you for inspiration. Think outside the box.”

And so putting fears aside, I went boldly forward where men usually have to go, but meanwhile, the rest of the world was throwing up flaming red flags all around that read “RELATIONSHIPS ARE NEVER EASY AND EVERYONE ENDS UP GETTING HURT.” Yikes.

I’ve been patronizing every tom, dick and harry gym in this city for the past two years – hemorrhaging money all over the place – Uncle Joe’s, Salvation Studio, Romney Pilates. I finally decided to consolidate it all under the NOAC and went for my first Pilates class there today. Of course, the only Pilates instructor, who was highly recommended, has given up this particular class as of today and there was a new instructor. Not traditional Pilates by any means. Sigh.

But the room was so beautiful – a large expansive ballroom. The entire building was built in 1929 – a year or so after the LaLa – and is a handsome building incomparable to any gym in the U.S. The ballroom had huge floor to ceiling arched french doors, chandeliers – even the library on the first floor is a classic. What a lovely place – you can forgive them not having the best instructor when the place itself is so lovely.

Loca and I walked through City Park this morning and again I was impressed by how beautiful the park looks two years after the storm. This afternoon, I was speaking to a colleague who said he watched a documentary last night on Katrina and he was impressed by how horrific the devastation was down here – saying he can’t believe how many homes (50,000) were destroyed – I had to correct him and tell him that would be 200,000 homes destroyed. He said 800,000 people lost their homes – again I said the population was only under 500,000 pre-K. Nevertheless, I agreed with him that no one can understand the destruction that occurred here or the lasting effects of it on entire communities not to mention the city as a whole. But all in all we are making headway it appears. It’s two years hence and we are forging new ground with our school system and refurbishing dusty corners of other areas as well.

Pretty soon we’re about to elect a whole new set of politicians down here as the ones we have either suck or steal. You know the drill. We need a hero(s).

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So Labor Day is a ruse because actually Tuesday is Monday squared. Good gracious. Summer’s over and work got out the gate like a house on fire. But I just wanted a couple of things today and they happened so despite the fact that it was nonstop go starting at 5AM, the end result was a nice day.

Late in the afternoon I went to pick up Jake from school – I haven’t seen him in two weeks. He came running down the stairs and leapt into my arms and I kissed him all over. A world without children is pretty sparse – who would want to live without the joy they bring into your life. “Ocho?” – yes Jake – “I missed you while you were in Turkey.” Oh my, I missed you too, honey.

A neighbor who lives on the court is away for the summer so J and I pulled her kayak out and hosed it down and took it out for a spin. There is something so delicious about having this body of water right in front – that you can slip a kayak into and suddenly be on the water with fish jumping all around you. I paddled to the Cabrini bridge but could get underneath since the water is too high right now. So I worked my way back and checked out the neighborhood from the middle of the bayou. Beautiful.

Summer is easing away – the days are growing shorter again – urgency is reappearing in every corner.

Since I was gone, I had about a hundred reminders pop up on my computer when I returned. In deleting them, I came across this one – August 31, 1990: first date at Olive Oil’s. I deleted the entire entry, but not without flinching.

Here I was considering Eli when I look over and see that Loca has managed to chew a big gash in the baseboards – it’s not Eli I have to worry about around here.

Sunday morning, I waited for the girls to call for our bike ride, and finally called B and learned they were not going because of her back. So I saddled up solo and went, but by then it was late, I was a little hungover from lack of sleep after a lovely evening, so I was pokey as I rode towards the lakefront. Got there though and felt terrific and was enjoying my IPOD, the lake, my bike, and generally at peace with myself. I headed towards the Leon C Simon bridge and then back to West End. I was debating the extra 20 miles and suddenly saw a friend and so started riding tandem. My friend wanted to speak about relationship issues. Seems like everyone these days wants to speak to me about relationship issues – and while they are the typical relationship issues – this one is controlling, this one is flaky, this one doesn’t listen, this one takes me for granted – it all started to seem like anyone with a brain would not even entertain the idea of building a relationship because inevitably it all points to relationship issues. Of course, that is the cynical side of the equation – the other side is the part where you blindly play the next round with faith that this time you will hold the winning hand.

I came home and thought about New Orleans and our recent two year Katrina anniversary and how everyone believes we have not done enough. I thought about my work and media in general and the difficulty today in finding the stories we used to find a few years ago when the landscape was more structured and less volatile. I spend a fraction of time worried about my mother and sister and their difficult lives. My neighbor came by for breakfast and a cup of coffee. I said I’m not sure why I sometimes sense this underlying thread of doubt about this fabulous life I’m living – as if maybe it’s all an illusion – it’s like a crack in the armor. Or that Eli’s coming type feeling creeping in. She said it’s when I’m hard on myself.

Maybe we’re being too hard on New Orleans – when I see what we’ve accomplished in two years it’s more wow, than whoa. When I make note of the wonders in my life, my happiness level at an all time high, the joy coming from so many touch points, and gratitude I have to have work that I enjoy, I have to stop myself from allowing Eli into my life – there’s no room for him here.

Yesterday, I picked up my mother to take her to the Quarter for lunch at Muriel’s. When she came down to the car she had a look on her face of intense pain or just I don’t know what – but I chose to ignore it and not give into the drama. At Muriel’s, chatted with my ex brother in law, while we sat the bar having gumbo and a tomato and avocado salad along with a glass of champagne. Mom’s countenance changing – actual smiles here and there – she starts looking good.

Southern Decadence was in full force and there were hard bodies everywhere you turned. Two guys were approaching us and I said to one, it’s so nice to see all these gorgeous men in town, y’all come back any time. Big smile from him. Then we headed to Salon Diversions so Jo could blow dry my hair as I had a date with Mr. Mesmerizer. She’s on her way to Tuscany and she’s wondering if she will ever come back. Mom sat in back and read a magazine and seemed very content. Then the thunder claps were almost mind numbing and I told her we had to run to the truck because I couldn’t get my hair wet and so I dragged her by the hand down block after block till she was pale white by the time we got to the Royal Orleans.

We head over to my great niece Abby’s one year birthday party and suddenly we both feel like step children there – my brother and his family are in from Atlanta and we had no idea they were here. This is the first time I have seen my great niece since my nephew’s wedding in Atlanta a few months ago even though she lives right in the next parish. My oldest niece is still not speaking to me because her own insecurities override any sense of our long history together. And everyone else seems to have one issue or another. So my mom and I sit and I take photos of all the kids and then my mom whispers to me – “let’s get out of here” – and so we go.