It's Fat Tuesday. Three years ago I was in New Orleans in the fall, with one good friend and a bunch of people I barely knew. I wore a sweater that was much too hot for such a steamy place -- absolutely inappropriate for dancing with a Hurricane in my hand. Every bar was playing Brown Eyed Girl. For years I associated that song with the Fourth of July, but now it will remain my New Orleans song.
When I was getting ready for work this morning I couldn't find my Mardi Gras beads -- the good ones from when I visited that city last winter. So many people have lost so much -- and I'm bummed that I can't find my plastic beads. Selfish girl.