Mardi Gras Day

Oh heaven help me...it is Fat Tuesday...Mardi Gras Day...

Today I feel fat...and still a bit hung over...and like I need a vacation from my vacation...

Please note: to protect the innocent I will NOT be using any names in this blog...even my "blog names"...you just gotta roll with me me on this one...I'm the only one who is in true need of protection but I do need to take care of my peeps and let's just call them "Friend 1" and "Friend 2" and so on and so forth...kinda like "Thing 1" and "Thing 2" but much more fun...so no names...

So I went to Mardi Gras...

In New Orleans (NOLA)

And I learned some stuff:

1) Bead Catching during Mardi Gras is a full-contact competitive sport. I have the cuts and bruises to prove it.

2)Mardi Gras beads are slippery little devils and can cause you to slip out from under your own feet.

3) For some reason I am "catnip" to certain men...it must be the blonde hair, large backside, and the Angel perfume. I was stopped on the street and told I smelled good...more than once. I will not tell you what kind of men I attract but I will say that not all of them are appropriate...

4) Bourbon Street is waaaaay wilder during Mardi Gras than it is on a "normal" night...

5) Beads can be used as a top (not that I ever will)

6) Zydeco music sounds awesome if you are drinking an Abita beer...notsomuch if you aren't...

7) King Cake flavored vodka is NEVER A GOOD IDEA

8) Only in New Orleans can you leave a ball with no shoes on but a tiara firmly placed on your head...

9) It is possible for 3 women who do not have a drop of cajun blood in them to make incredible gumbo...call it beginners luck but we nailed it on our first try

10) It IS possible to eat and drink too much in New Orleans...but you sure have fun doing it

OK, so "Lucy has some 'splainin' to do" here...guess you gathered that from my list of things I learned...

Maybe I'll just describe the weekend and you can figure it out from there...and just know that I am maybe 10 pounds heavier and still seem to have a touch of a hangover from Sunday night's ball...

Every 10 years or so I pull a really good "big badass drunk"...that happened this trip...you have to wait 10 more years before you hear abut it again. And lest you think I am kidding I can tell you it was February of 2002 the last time I was so drunk I can't remember the ride home...

So me and Friends 1-5 headed to New Orleans via plane on Friday evening. Friends 6&7 (who are married...as are Friends 1&2 and Friends 3&4...Friend 5 is single, female, and my "date" since we shared a room)...anyhoo..Friends 6&7 did the drive from hell and came in their car...which took them forever and at one point we thought they might just end up staying in Lake Charles...which distressed us since they had the booze with them...

So while Friends 6&7 are gamely trying to get down I-10 (or whatever highway you take to NOLA), we got to our little rental house in the French Quarter and settled in and ran out for dinner while we waited for the booze and friends and groceries to arrive.

I helped myself to Bar-B-Que Shrimp...which if you have never had New Orleans BBQ shrimp, well, I feel sorry for you...it's not so much about the shrimp as it is about the spicy butter sauce...which you mop up with plenty of french bread...and no, I did not share it...

I also had a dirty martini....and I had helped myself to 2 bloody mary's at the President's Club lounge before we left...I had to keep my alcohol consumption level up to NOLA standards you know...

Once we had fed ourselves (and mind you, we went to the "trough" quite often during the weekend) we helped Friends 6&7 unload the car and then headed out to the scariest street in the south...Bourbon Street.

I've been on Bourbon Street before.

But not during Mardi Gras...

Lord help me...and Lord help the poor souls that were partying harder there than I was.

We helped ourselves to some sort of blackish purple frozen drink called "VooDoo"...and yes, it lived up to it's name.

Now I"m sure you have all heard about the women who flash their breasts for beads.

We are NOT those women.

Didn't happen...

But we did see women who thought that just wearing a lot of beads constituted a top...um no, it does not...but all the better to flash your perky young breasts with I guess...

We saw a lot of things on Bourbon Street...I think the strangest/worst was the woman pushing a stroller at around midnight...and yes there was a small child in the stroller.

We found a fun bar with a great funk band. One of the band members had a thing for me. I did not have a thing for him.

After dancing for a good bit (that helps to get rid of the alcohol you know) we headed back to our cute little house and went to bed.

The next morning (Saturday) found Friend 1 and I cooking breakfast for everyone...keeping that "food level" up to par...I drank a lot of coffee too...

We headed out to the French Market and the rain started. No worries...we were under cover and had rain boots. After walking around and shopping a bit and having a bloody mary or 2 (me) we decided that we needed more food and found a great little restaurant called "Magnolia Grill".

They had good bloody mary's there too...just sayin

I found another boyfriend there...the cook...he made me special fried chicken. It was delicious...

Friend 5 and I went back to the French Market to get her some rain boots.

I had my tarot cards read.

Why not...I was in NOLA...

And please don't judge...I did it all in fun and the spirit of the moment...I don't take that stuff to seriously but she did say some eerily accurate things about me so it kinda creeped me out...not telling you what she said...some stuff I have to keep to myself...

So after some more shopping Friend 5 and I joined the others and we headed out to Friend 7's friend's vet clinic on Canal street so we could watch the Endymion parade.

That is where I learned that bead catching is a full-contact competitive sport.

I have a bruise on my right orbital bone to prove it.

I can't remember how exactly that it happened...by that time Abita purple haze beer and some pizza had been consumed.

I did have a load of beads by the end of the parade.

After the parade was over we went to the bar owned by the vet clinic people. I mean, if you know someone in NOLA who owns a bar you need to go right?

While at the bar we witnessed:

a man wearing a jacket that looked like something Tom Cruise wore in "Interview with the Vampire"...and a speedo underneath...nothing else...just the jacket and some tiny underwear type thing...

a man dressed as a devil...who had painted himself red...and was wearing a speedo (what is it with the speedos?) and a cape...he looked like he was 8 months pregnant with triplets and was in need of a waxing...

his wife was wearing a fake penis and had some sort of sign on her saying something about the penis...I refused to read it...

and a dog fight...in the bar...there was a dog fight...with real dogs...not an intentional "Michael Vick" sort of dog fight but one patron brought in a dog and it had a fight with the owner's dog...


A few drinks later and a brief flirtation with a too-much younger man we headed back to our little casa in the Quarter but then headed back out to Bourbon Street to dance the night away again...

And yes, my boyfriend in the band was still there...and he sang Prince's "I Would Die For You" for about 10 minutes...9 minutes too long in my book...Friend 2 was offered the chance to be facebook friends with the bass player...I think he might pass.

We danced with each other in a circle...the way only girls can do...and headed back home.

Along the way I learned that Mardi Gras beads are more dangerous than alcohol when it comes to walking...I can stay fairly steady with a small amount of vodka in me but add beads to the mix and you really gotta be careful. I never fell but I came pretty damn close...

So Sunday morning we woke up and did the breakfast thing again and then headed out to the convention center to see if we could catch a glimpse of the floats and to get our tickets to the Bacchus Ball.

After a lot of walking we caught up with our friends who had the tickets and then headed back to the Quarter so that Friend 1 and Friend 5 and I could make gumbo.

Mind you, not a one of us had EVER made gumbo.

We cheated...we used store-bought roux which I know is a major huge unbelievable sin but none of us wanted to stand at the stove and stir roux for an hour.

At first I have to say that the endeavor was looking quite iffy. And tasting a bit funky too. But once all the flavors had time to get to know each other in the gumbo pot it turned out to be a mighty fine pot of goodness.

We got dressed for the ball and headed out to grab cabs and get ourselves to the Convention Center. Of course we had the cab driver who decided that we had to take the worst route to the party...let me put it this way---I saw a woman walking in a gown that I admired...at one point we passed her and then she passed us...on foot...she got there faster.

It was hilarious to me to see all these people in ball gowns and tuxes...with rolling coolers! The ball was BYOB so you bring what you want to drink...and some people knew just what to bring.

It was not lost on me that the Convention Center was the scene of some real horrors during Hurricane Katrina...

It soon became the scene of my own personal disaster...

Now here I was, basically decked out as a female drag queen---fake eyelashes, padded bra, tight spanx, and a fake ponytail (which Friend 2 dubbed "the ferret") and I embarked on a love affair with bead catching...and vodka...

So I mixed myself a drink and set about to socializing...

Now here is the thing about people from Louisiana...they are like people from Texas...very friendly! So you make friends easily...by the time the night was over I had exchanged phone numbers with several new girlfriends and had a grand time meeting a bunch of other fun people...I just wish I could remember all of them...

uh yeah...it was one of THOSE nights...

I sorta lost track of how much vodka I was pouring down my throat.

So all of a sudden we hear sirens...and in the middle of the convention center comes a police brigade of motorcycle cops...and then comes the whole parade.

Will Ferrell was King of Bacchus.

It was awesome...he was on a float and throwing beads. Friend 2 caught some from him...

At one point a float came by with guys using air cannons...one of them shot me with something in the mouth...it bounced off my mouth but I am pretty sure it was beads.

I didn't bleed...

That time...

Friend 1 checked it out and declared me "fine"...so I threw more vodka down my throat so I could make sure I was disinfected.

There were marching bands galore...those poor kids had to be exhausted. But they were dancing away for us like we were the only people they were entertaining that day...

A little later someone else threw beads...

At my face...

Friend 1 looks over and me and sees that this time I am indeed bleeding.

We used ice and stopped the bleeding.

I still have the scab and bruising to show for it.

I think they were the massive heavy beads that I decided not to bring home with me.

Ouch...

So the parade ends and some dude comes over and starts chatting us up.

At that point I think I took a photo with him. He was dressed in some sort of Trojan costume that some of the men were wearing.

After a bit I asked him if he was married...

He said "yes, but it is Mardi Gras" and kisses me...

at that point I told him I was available but not available to him...and told him to go back to his wife...

I then was introduced to the devil of my evening...

KING CAKE FLAVORED VODKA

incredibly bad idea

and I usually HATE HATE HATE stuff like that but for some reason it seemed like a good idea at the time...so I drank some...and drank some more...and had fun with my new friends.

I don't remember much else...and I'm not proud to admit that to you. Why am I admitting that to you?

LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES

That is why I write this blog...

I forgot that I had already had plenty to drink...and I forgot there was diet coke on the table...and I forgot that I can't drink like I used to...

And I forgot I had been popped in the head by beads...

At some point I grabbed the Stoli bottle and just took a swig...thank goodness Friend 4 took it from me (and I hear he grabbed a swig himself) to save me from myself.

I was blessed to be among good friends...I got out of the Convention Center with everything but my little cheap fold up ballet flats...and I THINK my dignity still intact.

I did still have my tiara on my head...my sweet new friend from Atlanta procured that for me...she said she just new I needed one! Smart girly...

I complained endlessly to Friend 6 that I had no shoes on...yes, I walked the streets of New Orleans barefoot with a tiara and a ballgown on...

I don't remember arriving at the house but Friend 1 managed to help me get undressed and into pajamas and my contacts out and the ferret off my head...she is an amazing person.

I woke up the next morning with my eyelashes still on and feeling like death...and unsure of the time (it was 9:40 in the morning). Sadly I did NOT look at the time before I decided to take some Advil PM so prevent hangover headache.

One should not take Advil PM at 10 in the morning...just sayin...

Friend 1 found that the dead had arisen and explained that I was fine the night before...just had a lot of vodka...and was a happy little drunk who LOVED EVERYONE...again, the woman is a saint...

I drank a bunch of coffee, made some eggs and powered through.

Thank goodness our flight did not leave until 4:10 in the afternoon.

I took a little nap and found a way to push past the terrible hangover feelings...I later asked Friend 1 and Friend 5 if I should be impressed with myself for powering through or ashamed...

They said to "go with impressed" and laugh it off...they did...

I didn't do anything wrong...just to my body...

And I have considered giving up vodka for Lent...

Nah...I have a senior in high school...at some point I will want/need vodka again...just not anytime soon.

Nor do I need beer
or red wine
or white wine
or any kind of alcohol...

Once back in Houston I had to go and watch and help with a rehearsal of the middle school's one-act play (for competition next weekend).

When you have a hangover you really don't want to sit through "The Diary of Anne Frank" but I did it...and then I came home and swallowed most of a bottle of Tylenol and went to bed.

So sometime in 2023 I will pull another spectacular "I drank too much vodka" night but for now I can assure you that the very thought of feeling like I did yesterday is enough deterrent to tell the bartender to stop at 2 martinis.

And I will NEVER EVER EVER drink King Cake flavored vodka again...no matter how far Ke$ha Barbie pushes me...

So there you have it...my weekend in NOLA...

Oh, and while at the airport Friends 1,2,5, and I looked at the photos on Friend 1's camera...for me it was a little like the last scene of the movie "The Hangover"...and yes, FloRida's "Right Round" was playing in my brain as I looked at the evidence...

Inspiration Song: "Mardi Gras Day" by Dr. John...because it sounded fun while drinking Abita Purple Haze, eating pizza and waiting on the Endymion parade...and before getting hit in the eye by beads...

Bye Darlings...it's ok to misbehave every once in a while...especially if you are in NOLA for Mardi Gras...just be sure you are with loving friends who will help you up the stairs and out of your ballgown...