boys and girls

Learning to mortar was much fun. The guy who tried before me, he got it on the trowel and it all slopped off the block - couldn't do it at all. Me, I stepped right up and the leader said, "Oh, if she does it better than you ..." and it was like I was the expert demonstrator on HGTV.

"She did!"
"Oh, sorry," I slapped that mortar like a pro and got another trowel-full.
"She, she, ... she's probably decorated cakes."

Decorated cakes?!

What I could have said: "Look buddy, just because you're a mortar dud doesn't say anything about my home skills you sexist pig you don't know shit."
Instead, I expertly laid the block and prepped another. Sometimes, silence is golden. If he wants a cake decorator, he can talk to my friend Gail. Otherwise, I'm building houses so just step back.

All that mortaring and hauling concrete blocks and mixing and pouring concrete and laying beams for flooring - I am whooped!

Jenny - I found a Mexican restaurant NOT on our list, and I ate there with two vegetarians (one vegan) and they were pleased. (And the Guatemalan waiter remembered me - I'm working it.) (Speaking of boys, I just got email from the Nigerian artist I met at the African restaurant ... he has an art festival the same weekend as Voodoo Music Festival, so friends! I have many activities for us!)

So, day 1 with Habitat for Humanity was successful, and I have few cuts and blisters. I'll be back for more tomorrow (though leaving early to take Tami to the airport - actually we will check her in and if there's time, we will jet to a nearby pupuseria!).

The apartment still isn't really ready - I'm not moving in probably until the window is put in the bedroom because I don't want to clean and set up my room just to have dirty boys coming through with big saws to cut through brick. I took my bed and new table & chairs there yesterday ... and we got stuck in a horrible thunderstorm that drenched everything. I'm trying to dry out my mattress, but I dunno ... I may have to buy a new one which is a major $$ bummer - and the chair seats got waterstained so I'll need to reupholster them. Oh well, things could always be worse.

Speaking of thunderstorms ... today at the worksite, rain started and we packed up power tools and took shelter under a tent and there was a 20-minute deluge that was HARD. We went back to work, and maybe an hour later, there was a lightning strike SO CLOSE that we could all feel it. We just looked at each other and packed up FAST!

Overheard: "Are the wheelbarrows grounded, since they have rubber wheels?"

grits and pecans

How do I know I'm in the South?

Breakfast: Instant grits (yum, actually)
Lunch: Eat? It's too hot and humid to eat!
Dinner: Pecan waffles at Waffle House. (And very yummy hash browns.)

milk

I was raised by Kansans, so I call the least-fat milk "skim." That's just the way I was raised, so don't mess with my midwest values.

In California, however, people in coffee shops often looked at me blankly. Somebody, usually an older person, would turn over her shoulder and say, "She means nonfat." So, I adapted. It became nonfat. I became lactose-bilingual.

But then I came to New Orleans, and I ordered a nonfat latte at CC's. Blank look. "Skim? It's a skinny latte!" she shouted to the barista.

Back to my roots, I see.

When I told this story to Tami, she thought I was crazy. "Skim? Nonfat? You should be ordering soy and avoiding supporting the whole evil dairy industry! You want me to tell you again about the health problems of drinking that gross, disgusting milk?! Do you want to read these articles?!"

doing business in NOLA

Back to painting and cleaning today (which is probably really for the same intent as a dog pisses on a fire hydrant), then I called the landlord about the plumbing. Bathtub doesn't drain, toilet doesn't work right, bathroom sink drains slowly, and kitchen sink's water pressure is a trickle. He has been calling plumbers and can't reach a one - and those he actually corners are so overwhelmed with work already.

OK. Hopefully Tami doesn't mind if I stay at her house longer. He won't charge me rent until things are fixed. Hopefully it's soon! But, I'm prepared for it not being so.

So then I went to his office to make some phone calls.

First was the LA DMV. The first number didn't work because the phone company was having difficulties (the message said). The toll-free number did.

Do I have to take the written test in LA to get a license? No, but in addition to my social security card and birth certificate, they require a letter of clearance. "Letter of what?!" I asked. She told me to call the CA DMV and ask them to write me a letter of clearance.

What the eff does she think, that I have some friend there to chat with? WTF? And when I google it, other states require I send in the license to get a letter - so I couldn't drive legally, not even to the DMV?? And California doesn't say anything about how to get one. So now I'm looking on the Lousiana website and it says NOTHING about that. But, the office is closed now. Good grief. And here is an interesting tale of such things. So I think I will take my entire filing cabinet full of documents with me and hope for the best.

OK, I'm thinking, a small fluke.

So then I call the electricity to get it set up in my name. I'm expecting needing to go in person, to bring a deposit and documents, etc.

I did not expect what I got. Apparently there's been no service at my address since 2005 (despite me using electricity and gas daily, and there having been tenants earlier), and to get service I will have to hire a licensed electrician and also a licensed plumber (and see above about that) to sign a certificate that I am to fax to the electric office and then wait 48 hours for approval to have the account set up.

And this point my landlord is screaming at some man on the phone about a crazy woman stalking him for a job, so I don't ask him immediately WTF.

So I decide to try another one. Auto registration shouldn't be so hard, right?

I finally get through the phone queue ... and the electricity goes out.

And that's pretty much where I am right now, though the electricity did come back on eventually and I got some more painting and cleaning done. Sweating so hard that my hair is as wet as if just-showered.

Next week I'm volunteering with Habitat for Humanity all week, but the next week I'm free to sort all this stuff out. Though, it may take more time than that. Sigh. I can blame Katrina all I want, but this level of chaos took longer than a year to make.

home improvements

Classified search:

Household Furnishings
Tables Unused Hooker 1 cock. 1sofa $600both. Used 1 cock. 1sofa $200both 985-966-2447 Published in Times-Picayune on 07/28

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For those of you who've followed me through three blogs now, you remember bikram yoga - doing yoga in a sauna? We did it once, and the man in front of me had a huge pool of sweat which was more than a little disgusting. We all did.

So, I've been practicing bikram housepainting. Unplugged the a/c to paint behind the cord, and realized I like the quiet better. Which is fine when I'm all alone, but when the landlord's family shows up, the first question is why I'm not using the a/c. Shrug. So I looked in the mirror and saw more beads of sweat than Mardi Gras beads thrown up in the trees on St. Charles AVenue. I ain't winning no beauty contests, but actually I don't mind the sweat because it keeps me cool and I wasn't overheating.

And now I pray that they aren't doing construction on the bridge yet today and that I won't get stuck on it again. Ugh.

French quarter green

Tami and I went to the French quarter last night to an awesome West African restaurant (the only one in town, called Bennachin), and in addition to chatting up an interesting Nigerian painter, I noted the colors.

Today, part of my living room and hallway are what I shall call French quarter green - it's a common deep green on the shutters there.

I love it. Who cares if anybody else does??

I had many other things to say here, but I've forgotten them all.

Time to get back to painting (this cafe is a 3-minute walk away) so that I can get back to Slidell for some yummy Mexican food.

You know you're from New Orleans when ...

• Your sunglasses fog up when you step outside
• You save newspapers, not for recycling but for tablecloths at crawfishboils
• When you give directions you use "lakeside? and ?riverside' not north &south
• You stand in the "neutral ground" (area of ground between a two sidedstreet) "by ya mommas" (by your mother's house).
• Someone asks for directions and you stop and help them with a smile
• You think a lobster is a crawfish on steroids.
• You take a bite of five-alarm chili and reach for the Tabasco.
• The four basic food groups are boiled seafood, broiled seafood, friedseafood and beer
• You are asked to name the holy trinity and your reply is "onions,celery, bell pepper."
• None of your potential vacation destinations are north of the oldMississippi River Bridge (US 190).
• You refer to Louisiana winters as "Gumbo Weather."
• You sit down to eat boiled crawfish and your host says, "Don't eat thedead ones," and you know what he means.
• You don't know the real names of your friends, only their nicknames.
• You don't learn until high school that Mardi Gras is not a nationalholiday.
• You believe that purple, green, and gold look good together
• Your last name isn't pronounced the way it's spelled.
• You know what a nutria is but you still pick it to represent yourbaseball team.
• You like your rice and your politics dirty.
• No matter where else you go in the world, you are always disappointedinthe food.
• Your loved one dies and you book a jazz band before you call thecoroner.
• Your accent sounds nothing like Harry Connick, Jr's.
• You can sing these jingles by heart: "Rosenberg's, Rosenberg's, 1825Tulane;" "At the beach, at the beach, the Pontchartrain Beach..."
• When a hurricane is imminent, you have a lot more faith in Nash Robertsthan some Super Doppler 6000.
• Your town is low on the education chart, high on the obesity chart andyou don't care because you're No. 1 on the party chart.
• Nothing shocks you. Period. Ever.
• Being in a jam at Tulane and Broad isn't the same as being stuck intraffic.
• You have sno-ball stains on your shoes.
• You call tomato sauce "red gravy."
• Your middle name is your mother's maiden name, or your father'smother'smaiden name, or your mother's mother's maiden name, or yourgrandmother's mother's maiden name, or your grandfather's mother'smaiden name.
• You've done your laundry in a bar.
• You don't show your "pretties" during Mardi Gras.
• Your Santa Claus rides an alligator and your favorite Saint is afootball player.
• You suck heads, eat tail, sing the blues and you actually know whereyougot them shoes.
• You know why you should never, ever swim by the Lake Pontchartrain steps(for more than one reason).
• You cringe every time you hear an actor with a Southern or Cajun accentin a "New Orleans-based" movie or TV show.
• You waste more time navigating back streets than you would if you justsat in traffic.
• Your one-martini lunch becomes a five-bloody mary afternoon... and youkeep your job.
• You're walking in the French Quarter with a plastic cup of beer. Whenitstarts to rain, you cover your beer instead of your head.
• You eat dinner out and spend the entire meal talking about all theothergood places you've eaten.
• You greet people with "Howzyamomma'an'dem?" and hear back "Dey fine!"
• When you refer to a geographical location "way up North," you arereferring to places like Shreveport, Little Rock or Memphis, "where itgets real cold."
• You've ever had Community Coffee.
• You can pronounce Tchoupitoulas but can't spell it.
• You don't worry when you see ships riding higher in the river than thetop of your house.
• The four seasons in your year are: crawfish, shrimp, crab, and KingCake.
• You describe a color as "K & B Purple."
• You know those big roaches can fly, but you're able to sleep at nightanyway.
• You assume everyone has mosquito swarms in their backyard.
• When out of town, you stop and ask someone where there is adrive-through Daiquiri place, and they look at you like you have threeheads.
• You have flood insurance.
• You get on a bus marked "Cemeteries" and don?t think twice.
• You eat sno-balls instead of throwing them.
  

NO taste treats

I got two words for you Michele: Blueberry Mojitos. Actually, "St. Joe's Blueberry Mojito recognized as one of the top 200 drinks in America" says Food and Wine Magazine.

Where? Near here.

Yesterday I cruised by the law school (it happened to be near the crepe place), and they knew me instantly. Um, good?

I've started cleaning out the new place, and having color quandaries. The Roommate wants white. I refuse. It shall be interesting. I think green for the living room, yellow for the kitchen, purples for my bedroom. It's all moot right now because I hurt my right shoulder with enthusiastic cleaning (which I will return to shortly, apparently with my left arm).

Gail - PAINT!! Do not doubt! If you're not sure, then COME HERE AND PAINT WITH ME! :-) Much yumminess!

Everybody says it's hot as hell wherever they are - Oregon, Germany, California - but I have to say it's not too bad here - it's in the upper 80's and lower to mid-90's and extremely humid, but it's not horrible.

Last night I had gumbo and boudin balls at a cafe a couple blocks from the house. Tonight we're going to African food in the French quarter. Two nights ago we went to sushi next door to the cajun cafe from last night. I do need to try a muffaletta soon - but I never seem to have a hungry enough stomach. At the cajun cafe last night there was alligator meat and frog legs, and all sorts of interesting things.

Last night when I stopped at the gas station when I was trying to pay, the customer in front of me asked if I speak French. "A little." Well, thus commenced a thorough lesson on Cajun French, most of which revolved around profanity such as bec mon chu (kiss my ass). I forgot the rest, but I'm sure I'll hear them again.

I officially move in August 1st, but he's cool with me moving stuff in and fixing stuff up before then. Today and tomorrow are cleaning and hopefully painting some, Friday and Saturday are garage sale days, Sunday is moving in with Tami's help, Monday I start volunteering with Habitat for Humanity, Tuesday Tami flies to Jordan and a couple hours later The German Roommate arrives.

Well, the shoulder pain is not dissipating, so time to stop avoiding it.

off Maple Street

I think I found a place to live! Of course I'm having all sorts of worries that it's not the PERFECT place - but it's .5 mile from school and right near great cafes and bookstores on Maple Street. And Whole Foods isn't far away.

There are cockroaches. The windows are small. The A/C are room units.

BUT, the rooms are large (and there's even an extra guest bedroom!), the floors are tile (cleaner!), and the kitchen has new appliances including gas stove and dishwasher and fridge (and new counters), and he'll provide a washer/dryer for us. There's not off-street parking, but there's a parking place for me right in front. The neighborhood is great and safe, and I like the owner's wife and daughter (they're from Bangladesh). There aren't a lot of cupboards in the kitchen, but there's a great-sized pantry. There's a ton of storage space - which will be very helpful to me if I try to sublet the room while I'm gone during summers. The owner gave me the keys so I'll go check it out again right now, and Tami will come over and check it out with me after work.

I must be crazy, because I'm not driving around looking at other places. It's not one of those quaint southern mansions all divided up, but it provides privacy and space. And the mansions are only a block away to look at.

If I like it and get the go-ahead from German roommate, owner will drive me to Sherwin-Williams to let me pick out whatever paints I want and he'll pay for them. This is like a dream come true FOR JENNY. Oh - and he said he'd even help me move in! He said he was holding out for somebody great, and he loved that I'm a teacher now law student.

OK, what questions do I need to ask?? What's important??

Ole Miss mess

Today's adventures included a trip into Mississippi (about 10 minutes away) and on over to Gulfport. It looks like southern Lebanon - total destruction. Coastal buildings' facades sheered away, entire houses and restaurants missing with just foundations or parking spaces left behind. It's shocking. And I really need to get out my camera to show these things.

Borrowed the newspaper from Tami's mom and have some good leads, so I'm back at CC's with a cafe au lait and wireless connection to map them all to see. Tomorrow will be an intensive home-searching day ... looking through the ads for Target, etc. made me want to start stocking a home!

We went to Danny & Clyde's for a Po' Boy (Michele will love it because: "Danny & Clyde’s is simpy the best fresh and healthy food to go" - and she will ignore the fact of mayo and gravy dripping off white bread and 1/2 pound of meat). So many menu items to eat my way through - next will be the muffalettas (though, they are HUGE - half of the po' boy is still in the fridge, and will probably be too soggy to enjoy later). The problem is of course that it's all so much meat, and while I do eat meat it pretty much grosses me out [note: guy just walked past saying, "You go girl! I gotta get up to that typing speed, I really do!" - CC's has quite the little community of visitors]. Staying with Tami, an avid vegetarian and near-vegan, isn't helping me stomach the dead flesh any better (though, I guess eating it that way is better than eating live flesh), and she's even just about got me off milk. I'm so easily influenced by whomever I'm around.

Anyway, while there I stumbled upon brilliance. I will be stupid Yankee for the next three years. I will ask for chowder in all the public places, just to be sure to be identified. I will wear Alaska and Oregon t-shirts. When I am in that role, people are so damn friendly and helpful. At Danny and Clyde's, I had to stop the cashier from helping me too much, and she compromised with giving such explicit, clear directions. I think that's common here - I have not yet gotten lost anywhere because everybody's directions are so clear.

But another benefit to being Stupid Yankee is that it helps me circumvent some of the racism. Tami's mom today told of another po' boy place nearby, and how it had moved from Chalmette (which is a unique kind of place, which I'm familiar with because that's where we did Habitat work in April) and she really likes Chalmette so likes that place. To illustrate not the positive side of Chalmette, she said while in there they were talking about FEMA trailer A/C not working well and it being finally fixed because, "They finally sent a white man to take care of it!" My jaw dropped, of course. Led to conversation about racism and tensions between whites and blacks here, and I remembered how I played Stupid Yankee in the Atlanta airport and things were much better. See Stupid Yankee. She blind. Hey, if it helps me from being invited to a Klan meeting, then I'll play it.