no dress rehearsal

three years

Today is the three year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. It seems like a world away, yet like yesterday all at the same time. I have pictures and video that I've been wanting to compile and share, living through it was a surreal experience. And meaning to carve out a little time to sit and watch Spike Lee's "When the Levees Break", a dvd gift from Dean when we still lived down south. Perhaps I'll dig through the boxes this weekend and try to locate it.

In comparison to many New Orleans residents, we were so very fortunate - the means to evacuate, minimal overall damage, Dean employed for a company who found and paid for alternate housing in Houston until weeks and months passed and we could return home. We were surrounded by Dean's co-workers and their families, our friends, and built our own little Louisiana Schlumberger community right in the heart of Texas. So very fortunate.

Right now, Hurricane Gustav is setting his sights on New Orleans, with the projected path heading straight into the Gulf of Mexico, the eye right over the city. Predicted landfall for Gustav is Tuesday morning. We are scheduled to leave for New Orleans on Friday for a long weekend of Saints home opener football at the Superdome. A ruined vacation holds no importance for me, but the safety of our friends and our city does.

Our dear friend Joey called me on Wednesday, wondering if we were watching the weather channel. He is planning on leaving this weekend with his wife Bonnie and their two little children, Anabelle and Max, who we love dearly. The city is overflowing with people and places that Dean and I love.

Over a year since we've left, and New Orleans still feels just as much like home as St. John's does. People who are right now going through the same things we all did three years ago - deciding to stay or go. Sitting in line for hours to fill up your car with gas, a precious commodity as a storm approaches, and more lining up at the hardware stores for plywood to put over your windows, hoping that will make a difference, water, flashlights and other essentials. Scanning your home in those last few minutes before leaving, choosing what means most and goes with you in the limited space of your car, then driving away wondering if you'll ever see what's left behind again. Or if you'll see your neighbors again, who are also driving away. Sitting in lines on the interstate for hours, as you are directed trough the city's contraflow plans to get out. Waiting and wondering.

So please hope and pray that the weather patterns will change, Gustav will make a turn out to sea and do no damage, and we can walk off the plane on Friday, ready to visit friends we love, who are all safe and sound in their homes, and ready to visit our very favorite spots in the whole world.

a welcome to baby lily and a little reminiscing

My dear friend Erin and her husband Mark are the proud parents of a little baby girl, named Lily Erin. Erin and baby are both looking lovely and, from all reports, doing well. Congratulations!

I had a bit of a perturbing experience the other day. I was booking a hotel in Las Vegas for our trip in late May. Now, I've never really had a desire to visit Vegas. As a vacation spot, it just seems too flashy for me, and not all that relaxing. But we're going, and have decided to stay at the Rio. I call the reservation line to see what kind of rates we can get. The Rio is actually a Harrah's owned property and, luckily for us, Dean has a player's reward card from when he would play poker at Harrah's New Orleans, so we are eligible for special rates and promotions.

After some looking, the nice gal on the phone quotes me $937.00 for 11 nights. Not bad, but I want to confirm the dates with Dean first, so I tell her I'll call right back. I check the dates and call right back. Of course I get a different person, and my new quote is...$2400.00. What?? Not three minutes later, promotions have changed and ended, and this is the best new rate? I hang up, not booking at such a price, and call back again immediately. This time, I get it for a little under $1190, but for 10 nights, because the first night is no longer available. I book it, but they'll honor any new promotions and lower the price if I find a better one. Are you kidding me - 3 different prices in 10 minutes. I know promotions change, but give me a break here.

Anyhow, the reason that we're heading to Vegas to begin with is that our dear friend Matt is getting married there. His wedding is at the Rio and his plans are for an elegant, formal affair. My vision of a Vegas wedding equaled Elvis at a drive-thru chapel, but this sounds like it will be more traditional. Dean is his best man.

We met Matt when we first moved to New Orleans back in 2001. Dean and I were 25 year-old newlyweds and the vast majority of his new co-workers were single guys, some on the dating scene and a few with steady girlfriends, but all out to have fun. We got a little apartment at a gorgeous building in the warehouse district, walking distance to downtown, with a great pool area. Dean and I made fast friends with some of the work guys , namely Matt, Rich, Batzer and Joey. Some combination of us, along with Joey's girlfriend Bonnie, were always out together, at live shows at Tipitina's or the Maple Leaf, down in the Quarter, out to restaurants. It was a great, carefree time for us, still young enough that thoughts of mortgages and babies were far enough in the future to not be of immediate concern, just enjoying one another, our friends and the city.

Of course, we got older. Batzer was transferred to Brazil, Rich to Malaysia, we bought a house in the suburbs and eventually transferred to Newfoundland, Matt bought a house and was eventually transferred to Alaska, Joey and Bonnie got married and now have two darling children. Our entire time in New Orleans overflows with great times and memories. But memories of this particular time, the stage before our turn into the official "adult world" with all it's corresponding responsibilities, are fond ones for me.

When Dean and I bought a house in the suburbs in New Orleans, Matt did too, three doors down from us. I loved having such a good friend so close to us. When Dean was offshore, Matt was great company for me,
and I spent many evenings watching tv at his house in my pj's, just not wanting to hang out by myself at home.  Matthew is from Michigan, so we were all far from home, no family nearby. He is a few years younger than Dean, who thinks of Matt almost as a younger brother. I was so sad when he was transferred to Alaska. Here's us from a few years ago:

Matt is marrying a someone he met when he, Dean and a few other guys went to Vegas last year for Batzer's bachelor party.  She was a stripper who he began dating that very weekend, and they've been together ever since. I've never met her. In fact, I have a hard time remembering her name, but I must learn it asap, as I can't be calling her "the stripper" on her wedding day. Though I'm feeling a little scandalized about the whole thing, I do hope that she becomes a wonderful wife to Matthew, because he most certainly deserves it.

Still, I must confess, I have unusual visuals in my mind of what this wedding will look like. Even as an elegant affair, I'm picturing all the guests attending in skimpy, glittery formal dresses with plenty of cleavage and three inch spike heels. It's hard enough for my 5'1", could stand to lose about 50lb frame to find flattering formal wear, and now this?  Oh, dear.