When Hurricane Isaac was in the Gulf, I had a bit of a meltdown. You see, the last time I lived in New Orleans and there was a hurricane in the Gulf predicted to make a direct hit, the hurricane was called Katrina and I had to flee in the middle of the night and I didn't see any of my belongings for the next two months. So you might understand why Isaac triggered a bit of PTSD in me and compelled me to run around like a chicken with my head cut off. 

( Strange Men Knock at My Door. Etc.  )

The primary reaction of a New Englander to the experience of Mardi Gras in New Orleans is befuddlement. Because there are so many things going on all at once that would never happen in New England that it's basically sensory overload. The nearest approximation Boston has to Mardi Gras is the Boston Marathon, and that is, of course, nothing at all like Mardi Gras. It is, however, a special holiday granted in favor of a large outdoor event, so it's similar enough for base comparison's sake. For many years I lived on the Marathon route, and I watched cops go around breaking up parties in which people were drinking alcohol on the sidewalk by the race, because Boston has strict open container laws and you cannot drink alcohol on the sidewalk like that.
( In New Orleans, You Definitely Can )

I was homesick this weekend.

( In Which A Washing Machine Breaks. My Washing Machine, To Be Specific )

The other night there was a benefit at the aquarium here. “Scales and Ales,” it was called. You know I’ve spent too much time on college campuses, because every time I read that name I think that the “scales” part is referring to an a capella group, not fish. ( My Feelings on Particular Aquatic Animals )

Boston and New Orleans are two very different cities. I am reminded of that on a daily basis. They also have more similarities than it might look like at first glance, most of them centering around the fact that they're kind of hodge-podge cities that grew up all higgledy-piggledy, so the streets don't quite make sense, which is honestly something I prefer in a city. (For my original trilogy, there was a joke that I never have worked in, and I'll have to see if I can get it in there somewhere, but the hero of the trilogy is a "traveler," meaning that he is especially good at moving between worlds and realms and always knowing where he is and where he's going and how to locate people and places. The trilogy is set in Boston, and the joke was going to be that the way to flummox the hero was to drop him in New York City, with its sense-making grids and numbered and lettered streets. I could just envision the hero shuddering with horror. "How do you ever FIND anything here?" The idea still cracks me up, I *have* to work it in at some point.)

ANYWAY, moving on from that, the point of this post was to remark on one of the differences that I have found recently that never really occurred to me before, and that is the number of times people here tell me, "You'll get used to it." They always say this in regard to something that I, frankly, find completely unacceptable to my vision of civilization. For instance, it was said to me with regard to my continually ridiculous parking space that it STILL takes me multiple tries to get in and out of.

Me: I...don't understand this space. The car doesn't really fit, and I can't really get out of it without almost hitting that fence over here...
Woman I Was Talking To Who Is Also A Neighbor (shrugging; breezily): Oh, you'll get used to it!

And that was only the first time I was told this. Strange rattling noise in the air conditioner at work that NEVER STOPS and happens right over my head? I'll get used to it! Leaky window? I'll get used to it! The daily adventurous possibility of cockroaches? I'll get used to it! The stagnant pool water that grosses me out? I'll get used to it! Carrying an umbrella in a thunderstorm? I'll get used to it!

( The Rest of My Musings )

All of the moving issues aside, I am getting settled here. I admit it was a bit sad and lonely having to do most of the unpacking by myself, but it's done now, and everything is set up and the apartment feels like a place where I live, which is nice. The stupid "nothing on the walls" thing actually worked out well, because the prior occupant left all his nails and I kind of enjoyed not having to nail my own stuff (even if some stuff is in kind of weird places I wouldn't otherwise have chosen).

You know how, at the end of House Hunters, they always ask people what they think about the house? (I watch A LOT of House Hunters.) And people are always like, "OMG IT'S AWESOME I LOVE IT." Yeah, I am the opposite of those people. The reason I make a good renter is I always find a million things that make me happy I don't own the place. Here, it's the discovery I made that there is no garbage disposal. I've never lived without a garbage disposal. I am completely flummoxed by this weird lifestyle. Plus, because I am terrified of attracting even the whisper of a cockroach, this means I now empty my garbage every day. Whereas I literally used to do it once every couple of weeks (not having food in the garbage meant it never really smelled). The air conditioning is a bit loud and is not digital (on the other hand: at least it's not a window unit, which I steadfastly refused to do). I've already complained about the parking space, but the pool's also been a huge disappointment: They never seem to run the filter system that circulates the water, so it just looks like one big stagnant mosquito-breeding pool to me and I won't swim in it. (Apparently, not everyone has my admittedly-picky pool standards: Today I took a field trip to a nearby bar. When I left, there was a pair of sandals in the pool, one floating on the top, one resting at the bottom. They were still there when I came back an hour later. Excellent.) However, on the plus side of things that I love, I am a fan of the fitness center in the building, which is always deserted and pretty well-equipped and has a great lending library thing. And the showers here are AWESOME. I love a nice, hot shower (especially in the wintertime, of course, so that's less of an issue here), and the faucets here are great and strong enough to wet my extremely thick hair and the water's nice and hot. And the tub seems to be comfortable. I haven't tried it out yet, but I plan to do that this weekend. Certainly way better than the tub I had in Cambridge, which left much to be desired. So, on the whole, a mixed bag, but I'm starting to like it more than I dislike it. The view out the bedroom windows is a lot of comforting buildings, there's a great sunset view from the balcony (which I adore having, especially since I don't like the pool), and I am enjoying the open living space again. I can hear a church's bells chiming if it's quiet enough, and I love that, and the sound of the streetcar passing by the building (which I can hear if I'm outside) is really nice and comforting. And it's nice and quiet and there's no Running Little Boy over my head. So, I think I'm pleased with my choice for the next two years.

I have slowly been growing used to all the little things I'd forgotten about living in New Orleans, like how the cold water out of the tap never actually gets cold (this never fails to confuse me, I really never get used to this), and the way they are constantly forcing you to make U-turns (whereas Boston refuses to let you ever make a U-turn). The GPS is actually awesome at taking me routes that allow me to take lefts, so I've been loving the GPS. I've also been loving re-discovering this "left turn on red" thing if you're turning onto a one-way street, which I'd forgotten about and appreciate the practicality of. (I am, however, not enjoying all the potholes. I'd totally forgotten that the roads are actually worse here than in New England. How do they manage that?)

I've made a list of a few bistros and wine bars that look charming and like places that I would like. I've been getting to know Magazine Street again. I found some pottery that I'd actually been looking for for ages, so that was a WIN, and I'm going to buy it for myself as a treat with my first paycheck. I found a hairdresser I think seems promising, and I made an appointment to go there. I am completely in love with the corporate America corridor across the river, where there's a Barnes & Noble and a Target and a movie theater and a Bed Bath & Beyond, and the drive home takes me over the bridge with the city skyline in front of me, and it's my favorite approach into the city and makes me feel like I can take a breath.

So my request is this: I need to make a New Orleans list (I never did finish the Boston list, although I did some more stuff that I didn't report, so I'll have to update that). Leave me a comment, let me know what should be on the list.

Also, if you are in New Orleans or the New Orleans area, or know someone who is, or you're going to be, and you would like to meet up to do something, fannish or un-, send me a PM, I'd love to hear from you. While I am enjoying all my free time, it's weird to go from having a jam-packed schedule to so much open calendar space. I'd love to fill a bit of it!

(Also, if you have any recommendations for places to go that serve good tea and will let me sit and read and/or write for a little while, please let me know! I know I'm hoping to find a Tealuxe in New Orleans, which is somewhat impossible, but I'll take any suggestions!)

On a lovely Friday evening, just before Harry Potter's birthday, I left Boston.

( So Many Strange Things... )

As anyone with a passing acquaintance with my LJ may have discerned, I adore Boston. It wasn't always this way. I mean, I always loved Boston, but it wasn't until I moved away that I realized how much it truly fits me. In my isolated little world, I had assumed that Boston was pretty much like every place else, and that every place else would be a bit like Boston. I knew there would be differences, but I was unprepared for the size of those differences, for the chasm between a place like Boston and a place like New Orleans. This is not to say that one is better than the other, merely to say that they appeal to different people. I think Boston is the best place in the universe, but I readily acknowledge that it is the best place in the universe only for a very particular type of person, which I happen to be. And I didn't know any of that until the first time I moved to New Orleans.

So now I find, strangely, that I am moving back to New Orleans. This is the way life works, in these odd, random spurts. The first time I lived in New Orleans, I admit I didn't do too well. There is A LOT of culture shock between New Orleans and Boston. I am trying to do better this time around. I am trying to appreciate New Orleans for what it is. And, I figure, people can learn from the mistakes I make in trying to adjust to a totally different lifestyle.

The first step of any move is to find an apartment. I just looked for an apartment in Boston last year, so I know from experience that, in Boston, you can get three or four new pages of Craigslist postings every twenty minutes. Looking for an apartment was an endless feast to wade through. Granted, most of them I dismissed, but still, choices for renting in Boston are wide and disparate.

In New Orleans, I was lucky if Craigslist saw three or four new postings a week. It was frustrating and began to be nervewracking as the house-hunting weekend approached. I am extraordinarily picky, and I was worried that I wouldn't find anything that was acceptable to me.

( Did I find an apartment? )

Next time: THE DRAMA OF PACKING AND MOVING 1,500 MILES