View of downtown New Orleans at dawn this morning, spied from my balcony.
I’m excited to get to Rome, don’t get me wrong. But. I will miss this place. October and November weather is what New Orleanians wait all year for. It’s mild and not so humid and sunny and cheery. The whole city wears Saints jerseys on Sundays. The person who checks you out at the grocery story asks “How you doin’, baby?” as if you’re her oldest friend. You ride your bike to dinner on a Saturday night and through the park on a Sunday morning.
And, separately, although I sometimes feel like it isn’t, New Orleans is in America. I can watch American TV shows whenever I feel like it. (I am LOVING Ringer and Revenge, by the way. Awesome secret pasts/sinister plots.) I can order things off Amazon and be reasonably sure they’ll be delivered to my house. I can drive a car without being scared out of my mind. I can drink Fresca! The list goes on.
Anyway, enough with the nostalgia. I haven’t even left yet. But if anyone has any brilliant ideas about super American things I should do before I leave, I’m game.