Thanks to my 5 am dedication to drinking approximately 13 glasses of water I wake up feeling (relatively) normal. This doesn't prevent me from resting gently on the couch for the next four hours however. I would feel guilty, but spending Saturday morning trying not to move my head too rapidly feels integral to the New Orleans experience.
When the rest of the house has recovered we head out into the surprisingly energizing humid air. Maybe it's just the fact that I spent the past five years in a land of perpetual winter, but I can't help but feel amazing the second I step outside in New Orleans. On today's agenda is Riverwalk, which disappointingly turns out to be a glorified mall on the banks of the Mississippi. The river itself is impressive however, and it's nice to just watch such a mighty symbol of the US.
I feel like this trip has given me a new appreciation for my country and the diversity within it. With all the constant negativity that surrounds the US, it is easy to forget that this is a country made up of a multitude of exciting, charming, and culturally vibrant people and places. Maybe this seems obvious, but prior to this trip my only thoughts were of how to best avoid living in the States. I'm happy that I've managed to get one step closer to undoing the obvious trauma I suffered trying to take politics courses in Canada. (P.S. Americans, never do this if you love your country.)
Since the day was pretty much shot nursing our various headaches we plan to have a decidedly more exciting night, and make reservations at an upscale restaurant with live jazz. We clean ourselves up, round up some friends, and hit the town. Though both the food and the jazz turn out to be only so-so, the conversation is good, and entertainment is unwittingly provided by the 60-something proprietor of the restaurant. Dressed in a skin tight electric blue cocktail dress, this fiery lady made the rounds to every table trying to coax dances out of unsuspecting men. After hearing her speak we took bets as to whether she was very foreign or drunk, and eventually concluded it was the latter.
After dinner we hit a house party which eventually migrated to a bar hop on Frenchmen Street. If Bourbon Street is where the tourists congregate to get drunk and laid, Frenchmen Street is for the locals, and where the true good times are had. Unfortunately I can't really attest to this, except to say that I'm pretty sure I had fun.
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