16 on-center, babe

Cake decorator boy stayed far away from me today. It was all good, and I didn't have to apologize for doing everything better than him.

We had another leader today, with the same name as leader yesterday. It actually is easy when they're both there - just call out the name and one of them is bound to respond. They are both so patient and helpful and encouraging, and I am with a really nice group of volunteers, so it's quite a joy to work with. I'm learning lots, working hard, and my pores are cleansed from the excessive sweating. (Though I did note that there's a yoga studio only five blocks from my place that has Bikram yoga!)

"Are all the men in New Orleans hot?" I asked Kim (who evacuated from Katrina and is now finishing up RN training in Atlanta, and who grew up in the rough part of the neighborhood where I live). I had looked up to see jazz leader (the one who came today, who is a musician) talking to a neighborhood Rasta man. She agrees. I sort of said it too in order to gauge how black women here are about white women hitting on and hooking up with black men (though Jazz Leader is married). I didn't get a full answer, but if I keep charming her she'll be introducing me to her brothers and cousins in no time.

Today we laid floor joists which involved a lot of measuring and a lot of "babe." They say it funny here, the second 'b' is almost silent but it's still a full stop. I can't say it right, though I'm getting accustomed to being called it. I would think Jazz Leader doesn't know my name, except he always says it before saying the babe or sweetie or honey, which was a lot because I was his right-hand today (and not just because he's hot). Michigan Leader is, well, from Michigan, so he never calls me babe. Sometimes young waitresses get confused and switch between ma'am and babe. Somehow it's endearing, and it won't be long before I pick it up myself probably. I'm already doing more drawl than I should. It's just too hard to resist.

Just took Tami to the airport; she's off for two weeks to meet up with her son and husband in Jordan.

When I called Landlord Man today he was curt with me, citing his 500 things to take care of. That's all good and well, but it doesn't change that I need him to move the garbage from the front of the house and to install the washer and dryer.

So how do I know I'm turning Southern, in addition to the grits this morning? Because I'm killing with kindness. No blood pressure rising, just a kind reminder until it's done. He can go off if he needs, because he's not Southern (Bangladeshi, though he's lived here 30 years), but I will smile and thank him for taking care of things. Yeah, I watched some of The Closer at Michele's house and at Susan's house. (Somebody just asked me to watch their laptop here for a few minutes ... so I really look that trustworthy? Or maybe she's a terrorist and it's a bomb -well, that would take care of the garbage and appliances!)

OK, off to meet the carpenter and then to pick up The German Roommate from the airport and then drive clear back to Slidell to sleep in order to get up at 6:00 a.m. tomorrow to start it all over again. Hopefully I'll be able to move in soon - I'm tired of filling up my gas tank every three days.