Sometimes You Just Can't Win!

Sometimes You Just Can't Win!


So I thought it was bad enough that I had to deal with a huge blizzard on my way home for Christmas, but there was no thought in my mind that it would happen twice. Yes, twice. Yesterday I had a flight back to New Orleans from Reno via...oh yeah, Denver again! Where else? Upon calling United to reroute, I was told my only other option was another flight through Denver (and how exactly does that solve my problem?) or a flight two days later...oh - also through Denver. Hm. Not a lot of promise there, huh? So I had to improvise and take American (they don't even have a movie for a 3 hour flight!) via Dallas instead. One good thing is that it got me back to my hotel in time to watch this week's episode of Men in Trees, which I had not seen before. Oh, the small pleasures in life!
Stranded!

Stranded!

I am still here. Stuck in New Orleans. Not that I don't like this place, but I really had my heart set on going home today, hanging out with my buddy Kara and seeing the roommates at the house. I had a flight out for today at 2 pm. But I don't anymore. This is a classic example of "do as I say, not as I do". I told Lea when she was buying her ticket - DO NOT go through Denver!!! She listened to me. But somehow, when I went to buy my ticket, I was caught up in the greed of finding the shortest flight, the flight that arrived just when someone could pick me up and the flight that allowed me to get some work done in the morning and see my friends in the evening. And guess where that flight connected at? DENVER! I have been banging my head against the wall all morning just thinking about what a hypocrite (and see where it got me!) I am.

Actually, I have not been banging my head against the wall all morning. I have been running around like a mad woman. After sitting on the phone yesterday for hours wading through the monotonous automated voice that is the United "help" line and finally getting put through to an agent only to get the busy signal (about 487 times!), I finally decided that the way to figure this out was to go to the airport. So this morning at 4:45, I went to the airport and stood in the premier line (which is supposedly faster) behind (of course!) a lady with about 400 large bags which all had to be weighed and checked (hello santa!), a relative in a wheelchair and then, lo and behold, about 4 other relatives who cut in line with her at the last minute.

I finally got to the counter only to be told by the lady that there are "abosolutely NO flights today or tomorrow". Tears sprung from my eyes for a second before I swallowed them back and asked her again about getting to San Francisco. "Oh...San Francisco. I thought you meant Denver." WHEW! But still, there were no flights even to San Francisco unless I wanted to wait standby all day. Luckily, after about 20 minutes of searching, she found a flight early tomorrow morning (thank you lady!), and after being ticketed, I turned around and walked out. As I was walking out, a lady in the premier line cheered. I thought that it was pretty weird that she cheered, until I realized I didn't care why she was cheering. I felt like cheering too... I am going home! Come hell or high water or a crazy winter blizzard... I am going home!
Half Marathon Training Schedule

Half Marathon Training Schedule

The Mardi Gras Marathon is on February 25th 2007, and I have decided to participate by making an attempt to run the half marathon (13.1 miles) that day. I started my training this week and it goes for 12 weeks..... I really do not enjoy running very much but I do enjoy a challenge, so we will see where this one takes me. I figure if I get burned out after week 5 or 6 (the most I have ever run before is 6 miles), I can opt out of the half and go for the 10 K (there are full marathon, half marathon and 10 K options) and I will still get the free t-shirt.

To see my (un?)successful progress and to hear my whining, you can click on the link on the left or go to:
http://www.cankyriarun.blogspot.com
What exactly is a "Tchoupitoulas" anyway?

What exactly is a "Tchoupitoulas" anyway?

One of the things in New Orleans that is really strange to me is the spelling and pronounciation of Street, City and Parish (county) names. There are several names that I could never figure out how to pronounce if not for a little help from some of the locals. I decided to find out a little bit more about what these words meant. Below are a few examples.

Plaquemine (Plack a min), a parish and bayou. From the Mobilian (Indian) word "piakimin", which means persimmon.
Tchoupitoulas (chop a too les), a street in New Orleans and a French settlement outside of N.O. at one time. The name of an extinct Indian tribe. Also means "River People".

Calliope Street (Cal' i ope) (The "ope" said like nope--no "e" heard) Don't ask where "Cal-lie-o-pea" is, nobody will understand what street you're looking for!

Carondelet St.- not pronounced like the French (cor on do ley), but instead the T is pronounced.
Burgundy St.- seems easy right? We all know how to pronounce this. But wait - there is a stress on the UN, so intead of "burg andy" it is "burg UN dy". I wonder how they say caramel.Marigny (mar in knee)- Got its name from Frenchman, Bernard Marigny who introduced craps to the US. Faubourg Marigny is considered the first suburb of New Orleans. The Marigny neighborhood is a maze of angular streets that form triangles, pentagons and squares. Numbers jump their sequence mid-block and so do street names. Spanish, French Creoles, Italians, Germans, Irish and many free persons of color were among the first ethnic inhabitants to live in this section of the city.
Pontchatrain- the lake was named after Louis Phélypeaux, comte de Pontchartrain, the French Minister of the Marine, chancellor of France and minister of finance during the reign of France's "Sun King," Louis XIV, for whom Louisiana is named.

For more info, go to:
http://www.experienceneworleans.com/glossary.html or http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_orleans
Slim's take two...

Slim's take two...

Get this! The exact same day I wrote the last blog, I went to Slim Goodies and.... They have printed menus! And their prices have gone up! I am so disappointed....
The Story of Slim Goodies

The Story of Slim Goodies

We go there every Sunday without fail. We are greeted at the door by the owner, who's name is Kappa. The waitresses wear striped tights like the Wicked Witch of the West. The seats are red pleather and the menus are handwritten. You can get breakfast at any time for under 7 dollars. You can bring your own champagne and make mimosas. It feels like home.

The first time I went to Slim Goodies was about one month after Katrina. We sat in the backyard; the fence was knocked over, the trees were all broken and torn and limbs were strewn across the yard. We did not get a menu; instead the waitress, who's name was Katie, came up to us and asked, "vegetarian or not?" We told her which we were and she brought us out an array of goodies served on paper plates. I think I had pancakes and a biscuit. And coffee, also served in a paper cup. And water served in a bottle. I think my meal cost about 3.50 or 4 dollars.

Slim's has come a long way since the first time I ate there. They do have a menu now, but it is handwritten and you can order things such as "the little goat" (one of my favorites), "the guatemalan", "the jewish coon ass" (dont get me wrong, this is a really good sandwich - 2 potato latkes topped w/fresh spinach, 2 eggs, crawfish etouffee, biscuit) and the "fancy pants" (Chris' favorite and the first time he ordered it, I thought he was calling the waitress names). They have real plates and cups. Katie is gone; she went to Denver.

It may have changed a lot, but it is still the best breakfast place in New Orleans and maybe even anywhere. So every Sunday, we buy a bottle of champagne, round up the troops and head to Slim's for breakfast/brunch/lunch, where we gorge ourselves on fancy pants and joe.
Third Time's a Charm?

Third Time's a Charm?

Yes, I'm back. Back again....

I have returned again to Louisiana (for the third time in a year) to continue working with the Education systems that were affected by Hurricane Katrina. I am working in the same office (New Orleans) as I was before, doing the same job with the same clients. However, the dynamic of the group in the office has changed very much. When I was here before, there was a very large group (about 20-30 at any given time) that would all hang out together on the weekends, on the weekdays and at lunch. I arrived back expecting the same thing, even though I knew that everyone had gone home months ago.

Well, it is not the same. There are only about 3 of the original group of 30 left (including me). Having said that, the three that are left have had a great time, but it is very strange not having the rest here...it always feels like we are missing someone. We always go to breakfast on Sunday morning at Slim Goodies (we do this religiously every Sunday, rain or shine). It used to work like this: whoever woke up first and had a rumbly tummy would call everyone else and set the time to all meet. This used to take a long time, so long in fact that sometimes we had to split it with another, like a phone tree. Also, so long that sometimes breakfast became lunch. Last Sunday it went something like this: I woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. It was Lea. She said, "ready for breakfast?" I said, "yes". And then we went to breakfast. It was like culture shock. I was picking up my phone and scrolling through all the names looking for someone to call.

Yesterday, another member of the extended group came back. In the next few weeks, a few more are expected back. And we are making new friends and adding to the group every day. Soon, we will be whole again. Soon, going to Slim Goodies will once again be an all day affair, if only becuase of the dozens of phone calls one has to make each Sunday morning.
Full House: How I became the fourth roommate

Full House: How I became the fourth roommate

Somehow I ended up back in my old flat in San Francisco. I even got my old bed back, but only becuase my brother, who has been sleeping in my bed for the last two years, is out of town at the moment. So I have taken his place, back in my old flat, in my old bed, doing the same thing that I did then...minus the job and school of course. But now instead of one roommate, I have three! 

There is Pam, the responsible one (aka "mom" or "the one that cleans the toilets"), who works at a restaurant down on Church St. Then there is the "old-new guy", Collin. This kid used to come up to my parent's summer resort with his family every summer for about 15 years. I have not seen him in about 10 years though, so when my brother told me he was moving in, it was a nice surprise. Collin and I have spent a lot of time together in the last couple of weeks. 

Then we have my crazy brother, who is only there about one day a week and on that day we have an all day "thank goodness he is home and we are all together" party. All in all, it has been good times.
My Life Goes Downhill

My Life Goes Downhill

I lifted up my leg, swung it around and over the seat, closed my eyes and started to pedal, all the while praying to god that I would not fall....

The last time I rode a bike in San Francisco was with my friend Omar, who knew all the ups and downs, where to go and how to get there. And that time that I rode with him ended in disaster. Just as we were pulling back into the street where he lived, I slipped on the MUNI (train) track and fell down right in the middle of the street. I narrowly missed being hit by a car and escaped with only a scraped up face and a bruised shoulder.

So this time I gingerly got back on the bike and readied myself (mentally and physically) to go on a bike ride around the city once again. And this time it was by myself. I don't even know how to ride a bike in the city, really. I mean, what am I? Am I a car? Am I a pedestrian? No, I am a bike. But what are the rules for a bike? Can you google them? Well, I did not google them; I just hopped on the bike and got in the right lane of traffic and kept my fingers crossed that nothing too large would ram into me as I was frantically pedalling down the (seemingly) busiest street in town. When I had to turn left, I just got in front of all the fast moving cars and made them wait while I got across the 6 lane, 4 way stop.

I need a blinker! I need a horn! I need a gas pedal. San Francisco is not well known for having many flat areas. Nope, San Francisco is mainly made up of hills, which is cool when you are standing at the top of one, looking down at the beautiful view. But when you are trying to GET to the top so you can look at the beautiful view, it is a different story all together. Why does a bike have so many gears? And which gear makes it so I don't actually have to pedal up the hill? Isn't there one where you can just set it and the bike coasts up the hill on its own? If there is, I have not found it. I put the bike in the lowest gear possible and pedaled so fast I thought my legs were going to spin off my body and onto the street below and STILL it took me (what seemed like) 30 minutes to get to the top of the hill.

So then wouldn't it make sense that if you are at the top, there is nowhere to go but down? Sure, if you were anywhere else but "the hilly city by the bay". Somehow, however, here in San Francisco it seems to be uphill both ways.