6:33 AM - STRANGE EATS: Vegan Chocolate Cupcakes
Current mood: hungry

Vegan Chocolate Cupcakes
Makes 12 Cupcakes

 
INGREDIENTS

1 cup rice milk (you can use soy, but I prefer rice because it makes them much lighter and softer and more delicious)
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
¾ cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ teaspoon almond extract, chocolate extract or more vanilla extract
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup coca powder, Dutch-processed or regular
¾ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
 

DIRECTIONS

1. Preheat oven to 350 F and line muffin pan with paper or foil liners
2. Whisk together the rice milk and vinegar in a large bowl, and set aside for a few minutes to curdle. Add the sugar, oil, and vanilla extract, and other extract, if using, to the rice milk mixture and beat until foamy. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Add in two batches to the wet ingredients and beat till no large lumps remain (a few tiny lumps are okay).
3. pour into liners, filling three-quarters of the way. Bake 18 to 20 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Transfer to cooling rack and let cool completely.

BUTTERCREAM FROSTING

½ cup nonhydrogenated shortening
½ cup nonhyrdogenated vegan margarine
3 ½ cups confectioner's sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ cup lime or lemon juice
1 teaspoon finely grated lime or lemon zest

(Instead of the lemon/lime juice and zest, you can use some fruit preserves (like I did in the above photo) for flavoring, and top with fresh fruit)

DIRECTIONS

1. Beat the shortening and margarine together until combined well and fluffy. Add the sugar and beat for about three more minutes. Add the vanilla and lime juice, beat for another 5 to 7 minutes or so until fluffy. Add the zest and mix to distribute. Chill until ready to use.

Currently listening : The Garden By Zero 7 Release date: 2006-06-06

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1:35 AM - Surgical Notes
Current mood: crappy

I felt a lot of fear leading up to my surgery date (Friday, June 20). I was afraid of the actual surgery, going under general anesthesia and any possible complications. I was scared whitless of the actual procedure; I knew what they were going to do because I'd watched videos and read all the pre-surgery material. I was anxious about the cutting, the breaking of my deviated septum, and the searing of my sensitive nasal tissues. I was terrified about the breathing tube they were going to stick down my throat during the surgery so I could breathe. Granted, I was to be completely out during the whole procedure, but I was still filled with trepidation about what was going to happen while I was unconscious. Sometimes knowledge of what's going to happen doesn't make me feel comfortable, it makes me quite troubled.

I tried to play it cool in the weeks leading up to the surgery. I chose not to think about it too much; I figured I'd made my decision and I was planning on sticking with it, so what's the point of getting myself all riled up about things I couldn't change? I was busy anyway with moving and work.

The night before surgery the fear really took a hold on me. I still tried to play it cool, I told jokes and talked with my mom (who spend the night at the new house because she wanted to be there for the surgery), I ate as much food as I could stuff into my hungry little belly, knowing I couldn't eat 8 hours prior to surgery. I tried my best to stave off the dread I felt.

On Friday, as I guzzled all the "clear liquids" I could drink before 11:30am (surgery check in was 1:30pm and the surgery itself was scheduled for 3:30pm; I could drink all the water and apple juice I wanted up until 11:30am) I started to feel even more nervous. I joked in my normal manner, trying to avoid feeling the fear gripping my insides.

We got to the hospital and checked in. As we were waiting in the waiting room for them to call me, I talked with my mom and Derrick about anything but the upcoming procedure. Then the nurse called me and brought us into a private waiting room, where she asked me to change into the hospital robe. Changing into the robe made it all very real for me, and I started shaking with fear. I was terrified of the upcoming surgery. I tried to push the fear out of my head; just focus on the present moment, I told myself.

My doctor came into the room and explained the procedure to us. After meeting with him my mother's face visibly relaxed. She knew now she could trust him to operate on me and the worry she'd been feeling evaporated. I already knew he was someone I could trust, I'm the one that chose him after all, so hearing about what, exactly, they were going to do to me didn't make me feel any better, it just made it all the more concrete for me! The anesthesiologist came in and spoke to us, and then they brought a wheelchair for me (they could tell I was scared, knew I hadn't eaten all day and knew my history of low blood pressure so they didn't want me passing out while walking to the operating room!) and wheeled me away.

Once in the operating room I lay down on the operating table and the anesthesiologist came up and spoke to me gently (he's a child anesthesiologist, so that made me feel good, I'm just a bigass kid anyway!), he numbed my hand where he was going to insert the IV, then inserted the IV. Sade was playing on the radio in the background and the doctors were preparing for surgery. As the anesthesia entered my blood stream I felt a cool sensation flowing in my veins up my left arm, up to my heart… my doctor came over and asked me some questions (what is my name, what procedure am I getting, etc.) I made some nervous attempts at jokes, laughing uneasily, and that's the last thing I remember.

The next thing I knew I was in a noisy-ish room. I knew there were many people around me. I felt like I couldn't open my eyes, I felt like there was tape on them, so I did not even try to open them. I just lay there with my eyes closed, slowly regaining consciousness. I could tell that this was the room they took patients that just got out of surgery to wake up. I could hear nurses speaking to other patients that were waking up. I must have said something, because a nurse came over to me. I said, through the oxygen mask that was covering my nose and mouth, "I hurt." She talked me through a shot of morphine. I floated into a happier place; I could still hear the noise around me but I was no longer in pain.

A while later, I don't know how long, I felt more pain. I made more movement and noise, and the nurse came again. "My teeth hurt really badly," I said. She said "Alright, I'll give you some more morphine." After that I tried to open my eyes. I put my right hand (the one without the IV) up to my face and felt my eyes. There was no tape on them, so I cautiously opened them. I was lying in a very full room. I looked around and then closed my eyes again, just listening to everything that was going on around me.

A woman next to me had just had a c-section. It was her first child; she was 45 years old and according to the nurses her baby was ok (I'd like to see how the kid is in 5 years, 45 is too old to be having children!) Another young man had just had his tonsils out. The nurses were bringing popsicles and drinks to the patients coming out of their anesthesia-induced comas. I began to stir. My nurse came over and asked me if I was ok. "I have to pee," I said. She told me she could bring a bedpan. "Um, no thank you! I'll just wait until I can walk to the restroom." There was no way I was going to urinate into a bedpan in a room full of people, I don't care if they were semi-conscious or not!

I closed my eyes and floated into a morphine-induced dream. I woke up a while later and the nurse came over, asking me if I felt like I wanted to get ready to leave. I lifted my head and took off the oxygen mask. She brought my clothes and helped me get dressed, then brought a wheelchair and wheeled me to the bathroom. After I relieved myself, I sat waiting for them to get a hold of my mother so that she could come get me and we could leave.

I waited for about twenty minutes, taking in all the action going on inside the room. Finally my mom responded to the calls and the nurse wheeled me to where she and Derrick were waiting. They'd picked up my pain pills and wheeled me out to the car. Once home, I had my mom call a few friends to let them know I was ok and then we stayed up talking. My face was wrapped in gauze to catch the blood dripping from my nose. I didn't feel much pain because of the local anesthesia they'd given me following surgery as well as the few shots of morphine I'd had. That night I slept fitfully.

~

Its a few days post-surgery and I must say I did not anticipate this PAIN! Prior to surgery I was consumed with fear about the actual procedure but now that it's over and I have absolutely no memory of it of course since I was under general anesthesia, the PAIN is just overwhelming at times! My whole face hurts, my teeth hurt, my neck hurts, I've got a headache, I can tell my sinus cavities are full of what must be mucus and blood, because my ears are popping and it's hard to eat/swallow. I've got a nasty post-nasal drip of blood down my throat (gross, right!) and wow, it's just nasty right now. I suppose it's slowly getting better, the blood flowing from my nose has slowed down for sure, but the pain hasn't changed a bit. The doc gave me some pain pills which I'm taking every few hours, and they help a little but not as much as I'd like.

Clearly the healing process is going to take a while, I just hope it goes by quickly because I can't wait to have my face back to normal! I can't wait to breathe, smell and taste again. I can't wait to not have this pain and annoying bloody drip!

But other than all that, I'm doing great! I'm sure that I'll heal pretty quickly; I'm taking good care of myself, just taking it easy. Not doing too much, hell, not doing much at all to be honest. I hope that I heal quickly. I've got a doctors appointment on Thursday (Mom's going to take me); I believe the doc is going to take out the little plastic plates he sewed into my nose… Not looking forward to him taking them out, I'm sure it's going to be painful, but hopefully after they are removed the healing will go quicker.

Here's to speedy healing!

Currently listening : No, Virginia... By The Dresden Dolls Release date: 2008-05-20

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10:35 AM - the undervalued sex
Current mood: ashamed

Last December, I photographed a pregnant woman I'll call Ming. I went to her home early one Saturday morning while her little son was still asleep, so that we could have time to shoot in peace without a toddler running amok. Our shoot went well, she was very nice and I got some good shots.

Ming called me last week wanting to know if I could take photos of her whole family (herself, husband, 3-year-old son and 6-month-old daughter). She was in a rush because, she told me, they were preparing to move back to Indonesia. I asked her why they were moving back and she explained they had family there and it was easier to raise two children with the help of family, etc. Understandable explanation... or so I thought.

Yesterday evening I rushed home from work, changed, emptied my camera's memory card onto my laptop, packed up my cameras and flash and rushed back into San Francisco. I was to meet Ming's husband at the BART Station and he would drive me up to the Legion of Honor where we were going to take the family photos; while we drove I made conversation.

"So, your wife told me you were all moving back to Indonesia", I said.

"Actually, no, we are not all moving; we are just sending our daughter to live with my mother in law." He responded.

I was surprised to hear this. "Really?" I asked. "You're just sending your baby away? Why?"

"Well, it's very expensive to pay for day care and such; it will be easier for us if she lives with family in Indonesia." He voice had not a trace of sadness or regret. Instead he sounded detached, resigned.

"Ah." I said. "Why did you and Ming leave Indonesia and come to the United States?"

He explained that for Chinese living in Indonesia it was very hard. They faced a lot of blatant racism and the government had no laws in place to deter the abuse and racism that Chinese suffered. Even government employees themselves practiced racism; it was often hard to get identification because the workers refused to help the Chinese people and they often had to be paid off to receive any help.

I mentioned that racism exists here, too, for example, especially against black people. He responded that yes, racism does exist here, but it is very subtle; a lot more so than what he experienced living in Indonesia. I agreed; racism here may appear to be subtle, something floating below the surface, something people don't talk about; especially to someone that has experienced blatant forms of racism. Racism (as we all know) is alive and well in America and San Francisco, however, probably just not as bad as it was for him and his family in Indonesia.

I was quiet for a while, thinking about how different their lives were in Indonesia, pondering all the pain and suffering he and his family must have experienced just because they are Chinese. I thought about how different it must be here in America, about all the opportunities they must have here. And then I thought about them having to send away their brand new baby daughter to live in Indonesia. I wondered why they would make such a decision, since he had just told me how hard it was for Chinese to live there. I didn't understand but I decided to believe what he said – that they simply could not afford to keep two small children when they both had to work full time.

We arrived at the Legion of Honor and met with Ming. I helped unload the kids out of her car and we walked down near the water and started taking photos. The shoot was fun. Their son was very active and as soon as I'd point the camera at him he'd get up and run away, so it was very hard to get some non-blurry shots of him… but I managed to get a few. I photographed the husband and wife with their 6-month-old daughter; they held her between them and kissed her chubby cheeks and made her laugh a wide slobbery baby laugh. It was very sweet and they seemed very happy. I remembered that the purpose of this shoot was because they were sending the child away in a few days with her grandmother to be raised in Indonesia and that thought was sobering, but I managed to smile and laugh and keep shooting photos for their memories.

We continued to shoot until the sun was too low in the sky to get good light. Everyone was freezing, the fog was rolling over the Golden Gate Bridge and Ming suggested ending the shoot. I'd gotten at least 250 photos so I felt like I had enough to work with, so I agreed. We walked back to their cars and I helped load up the kids. I noticed that Ming had a brand new SUV. Her husband's car was used, but it was still in good condition. Ming paid me and I got into the car with her husband so that he could take me back to BART.

"I bet it's going to be really hard to send your daughter away" I said to him as we drove down Van Ness towards downtown San Francisco. "Do you know how long she will stay in Indonesia?"

"I am not sure," he said. "Probably indefinitely." We spoke a little more and I found out they'd moved from the apartment they were living in when I'd shot with Ming last December. He told me that they owned a home in Novato (Marin County) and had been renting it out, but recently moved back into the home since it was closer to his wife's place of employment in San Rafael.

I started to become suspicious of the fact that they were sending their daughter away. Surely it couldn't be for lack of money. They owned two cars and a house in Novato! It finally dawned on me that they were sending their daughter away because she was a GIRL. I, of course, didn't want to accept that. I am very aware of the mistreatment of girl children and the discrimination one faces just for being born female. I'd just never seen it first hand, never thought it would happen here right in front of my face.

I was silent for the rest of the car ride. When I got home I discussed everything with Derrick. He agreed; they were sending this baby away most likely just because she was a girl. What if their baby had been a boy, not a girl? Would they have kept him? Realizing that (even though I'd known it all along in the back of my head, just had not wanted to accept it as truth) filled me with sadness. There was nothing I could do, of course, but having a situation like this before my very eyes made me feel helpless and angry.

Why didn't the mother do anything? Why was she seemingly ok with sending her daughter away? Why had she told me on the phone that they were all moving to Indonesia? (Probably to avoid any probing questions.)

And now, I want your opinion and input. It's been known that throughout the history of "civilization" that women have been abused and mistreated due to patriarchy and misogyny. Girl children are abused all the world over, right under our noses. Boy children are held in high esteem in most cultures and if a girl baby is born she is often abused and killed. This is not right. What can we do to change this? Education would be my answer, but it will take generations and generations of education to change the wrongs that have been done and undo the social brainwashing that has gone on for centuries.

Why are girls and women so undervalued?

What can we do when we see things like this going on under our noses?

How can we educate our girls and women and make them stronger?

How can we educate our boy children to grow up to be non-misogynist men?

Currently listening : Mercury By Universal Hall Pass Release date: 2004-10-23

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8:30 PM - scandalized
Current mood: pissy

Deborah Jeane Palfrey, the Madam from D.C., was found dead in Florida on Thursday, hanged. Police are saying it's a suicide. I say: Bullshit.

In May 2007 Palfrey was investigated and openly publicized she would expose her long client list of what I'm sure included government officials and other people of standing in the political community. Many of these clients had their lawyers call her, begging her to keep quiet about them. This past April a jury found her guilty on multiple counts of racketeering and money laundering. She was found this Thursday hanging in a shed in Florida [on her mother's property].

There is little doubt in my mind (and probably in most people's minds) that this was not a suicide. It's pretty obvious that political figures have a lot to hide when it comes to fraternizing with prostitutes and high-class call girls. When sexual scandal of this nature hits the media, these men are forced to apologize in public and then resign from their positions.

I ask, WHY? Why does it matter? I realize this country is founded on sexually-repressed puritan roots. But really, are we honestly that surprised that these political figures preach one thing and practice something entirely different? I'm sick of hearing about the sanctity of marriage and the importance of family when these men are, in their private lives, soliciting gay sex in the men's bathroom at the airport (Larry Craig) and caught red-handed with high-class prostitutes (Eliot Spitzer).

Let's face it: humans are not monogamous, just like most of the other animals out there in the world. While monogamy has been socially mandated for centuries now, it is still not our nature. Sure, there are reasons for marriage, for instance raising children together; financial security; having a partner that's there for you and you can depend on (to some extent, don't get me started on that one, folks); intimacy. But I imagine a lot of these people feel that they must marry to keep their social standing, even though they're, say, gay. Sure, lying to your wife is wrong. Cheating is wrong too. But in this society what else can we do but lie and cheat, since non-monogamous relationships don't seem to be much of an option? I think prostitution should be legal. Sure, regulated (for disease, etc.) but yeah, LEGALIZE it. I also think fuckin' drugs should be legal. But that's another blog entirely.

I've got a lot of thoughts on the subject, clearly…

So let me ask you – what do you think about all these "sex scandals"? What are your thoughts on monogamy (or non-monogamy)? How have you made your monogamous relationships work? I'm real curious, because seriously, that shit just doesn't work for me personally. Do you think prostitution should be legal?

Open discussion, ya'll. I'm dying to hear your thoughts.

PS - I feel I should also note that when you meet the right person, your soulmate if I dare say, this throws all the monogamy crap out the window. If one should be lucky enough to meet the right person one actually finds that it's quite simple to be monogamous and wanting others does not become a question. I guess it's all about fulfillment on all levels (soul, physical, mental, etc.)

Also, I should note that I DO NOT CHEAT, I have never cheated, and my morals are far too high for me to cheat. Which is why I've had a series of "short" (about a year, maybe longer) relationships. Because when I feel like I'm getting close to needing something different, I'll end the relationship rather than cheat. That's how I roll.

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6:11 PM - understandingRACE
Current mood: enlightened

I just came across this website… it is very educational and informative. I strongly suggest you read it in its entirety, take the learning tests, watch the videos, etc.

Race is a social construct to keep people "in their place" and we all need to educate ourselves, our children and everyone we encounter so that we can stop using race as a form of discrimination.

It is important for us all to realize that there IS NO SUCH THING AS RACE.

Check out the website. UnderstandingRACE

"[Racism] is not about how you look, it is about how people assign meaning to how you look." – Robin D. G. Kelley, Historian

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9:57 PM - Folsom St Fair Poster 2008
Current mood: amused

So, I didn't want to make the announcement until I had the poster to show, so here it is! Folsom Street Events asked me to model for their poster again this year! This time I was on with just two other people, so it's a lot of expsure for me! Here it is for your viewing pleasure! I'm playing the role of motorcycle dyke (so out of character for me!) and posing with Diesel Washington (gay porn star) and Heklina (one of SF's famous drag queens). And now without further ado, here's the poster!!

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8:47 PM - Strange Eats: Spinach w/ Pine Nuts + Golden Raisins
Current mood: tired

SPINACH with PINE NUTS & GOLDEN RAISINS

5 large cloves of garlic, sliced
4 tablespoons pine nuts
4 tablespoons golden raisins
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
½ teaspoon salt
3 or 4 large handfuls of fresh spinach (washed, of course!)

Coat bottom of frying pan with extra virgin olive oil, when it's hot, add the pine nuts, golden raisins, salt and garlic. Cook for about a minute. Then add the spinach, turning over and pressing down. Cook spinach for just a few minutes, until it's wilted. Serve with brown rice or as a side dish to chicken or fish. DELICIOUS!

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8:54 PM - Strange Eats: White Beans + Kale
Current mood: full

I’ve been experimenting in the kitchen lately and tonight I came up with a delicious mouth-party! I had some organic veggies in the refrigerator that were going to go bad if I didn’t hurry up and use them, so I decided to throw them all together and make a thick, hearty stew-like dish. It was SO scrumptious I decided to share it with you all. I am definitely going to let the flavors of this dish marry overnight and enjoy it again at lunch. This is a delectable, filling dish that goes a long way, and it’s totally healthy too! I hope you enjoy making and devouring this dish on your own!

WHITE BEANS and KALE

4 cups white beans (soaked overnight)
2 cups small green lentils (or any kind of lentils)
1 large bunch of Kale, chopped thinly
1 red onion, chopped
5 cloves garlic, chopped into thin slices
2 teaspoons salt
2 cans stewed tomatoes
3 bunches green onion, chopped
½ head red cabbage, sliced into thin juliennes
Olive oil
4 cups water
Vegetarian chicken broth seasoning – about 2 tablespoons

In a large pot pour olive oil enough to coat bottom. When it’s hot, add the red onion, green onion and garlic. Sautee for a few minutes, and then add the cabbage. Cook for about five minutes, and then add chopped kale. Cook until Kale is halfway cooked. Then add the beans and lentils, and pour the water mixed with the vegetarian broth seasoning. Add salt, enough to taste.

Let cook/simmer until beans are thoroughly cooked. Serve with Bruchetta (day-old French loaf cut into slices, baked w/ olive oil and garlic) or eat alone. Very filling!

** this recipe makes about ½ a large pot of soup, so if you are cooking for only a few (read: two) people, you might want to halve it! I cooked a lot because I plan on bringing the leftovers for lunch!

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11:57 PM - strange book reviews
Current mood: inquisitive

Ever since I learned how to read I started devouring books like air, shoveling the words into my mind, losing myself in the stories, living on alternate planes of reality and experiencing life through the books I read. I remember going to the library weekly and coming home with about five or seven books, only to finish them and have to return the next week. There was a point when I’d come to the children’s section of the library and find that there wasn’t anything new for me to read there! So I moved upstairs to the adult section and started to consume hungrily everything that piqued my interest. Now I tend to read about one book per week. I read on the subway ride to work, on my lunch break, and on the ride home. Reading is a comfort to me, it takes me to a different place, allows me to imagine and experience things I might never have the chance to physically experience in this life. I suppose I could be considered a prolific reader – I am always reading something or another, always finding another author whose work I just love and find myself eagerly powering through their entire published work. Following is a list of books I’ve read recently, books that touched me in a special way, and books that I’ll probably go back and re-read. I hope you are inspired to pick up at least one of these books and read them for yourself!  And please, tell me something you’ve read recently that was especially exceptional? Share your book recommendations with me!

NOTES ON A SCANDAL by Zoe Heller: I picked up this book while I was in Portland, OR this past January. I read the back cover and saw that it was about a subject that greatly interests me: a teacher having an affair with her student. This book is written in the first person from the perspective of an older teacher and good friend of the teacher who was having the affair. It takes place somewhere in England, so the older teacher, an old maid, writes with a sardonic, cutting, dry sense of humor. The book sheds light into a subject that society condemns and almost makes us understand why a woman would choose to have an affair with her student. ALMOST, I said, but not quite. It is an excellent, entertaining, funny and sad story.

PERSEPOLIS by Marjane Satrapi: My friend sent me this graphic novel autobiography as a birthday gift. I started reading it on my flight to New Orleans and quickly found that I couldn’t put it down! I normally have trouble following most graphic novels because there is so much going on (the words, the pictures…) but with this book I think it being a graphic novel makes it all the better. Marjane told her story from the time when she was a child living in an Iran that was starting to change drastically. The book illuminates what it is like living in a country where women had what little rights they had completely taken away and the entire population being forced to live under a very harsh religious rule. It is a story of this woman’s finding herself and her strength, and that kind of story always makes me happy!

ORYX & CRAKE by Margaret Atwood: My good [and quite literary] friend suggested I read this book. I haven’t yet picked up a Margaret Atwood book I didn’t like and this book did not disappoint. The story takes place sometime in the future and it is very applicable to our current time, I think. It is a psychological thriller of sorts, about what happens to the world of human life when everything available to eat is genetically modified and science rules and regulates everything. There are people living in "pods" of scientifically advanced people working to invent new gadgets and new strains of foods, medicines, cures, etc. Then there is the outside world, ravaged by poverty, sickness and war. The story weaves and builds through the present moment, told by one of the only survivors of the demolition of the human race, and the past. He tells us slowly how the world got to where it is now, and it is a wrenching story reflecting significantly on the current state of our planet. A great post- apocalyptic book, definitely a must read!

FIRST LOVE, LAST RITES by Ian McEwan: Many people know Ian McEwan from his book that was recently made into a movie, Atonement. This is another book I picked up in Portland because I wanted a book of short stories to familiarize myself with the short-story writing style. Now I am the type of person that just LOVES sinking my teeth into strange, queer, disturbing pieces of work and let me tell you, Ian McEwan did not disappoint. Each of the stories was disconcerting in its own special little way. I have no intention of spoiling the dirty little stories for you, but let me tell you, if you enjoy being shocked out of your whits, left with a rather horror-struck look on your face after reading the last sentence of a story or aghast at the authors imagination, pick up this small tome and devour it. It does not disappoint! It actually made me want to read his entire (and rather large) body of work, because if he really is this sick and twisted, I need to read it all! Highly recommended book of short stories, either way.

THE STREET by Ann Petry: I received this book for my birthday from a friend who said she read it in undergrad. It was written by a Black woman and published in the 1940’s, so it is definitely a period piece. It’s a story about a young black single mother struggling to make ends meet and raise her eight year old son in Harlem, New York City. The time is the mid-1940’s. Times are hard for anyone of color, Black women especially. The writer gives us a lot of detail, a lot of back-story; it is a well written book that is full of the pain of living as a Black young woman in Harlem, NY. The way she writes makes you get into the head and understand each character and comprehend why they do the things they do. It really brings to light for me the struggle Black people have been going through since slavery ended and why it’s been so hard to come together as a people. While it is a very sad book, I highly recommend it because it is good to have knowledge of the struggles people have gone through to better empathize with them. 

Currently listening : 11i By Supreme Beings of Leisure Release date: 12 February, 2008

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9:53 PM - I Found My ♥ in New Orleans
Current mood: nostalgic

CLICK TO VIEW THE PHOTOS FROM MY TRIP!

Thursday, February 28

My flight left at 6am so I had to wake up early. I arrived in New Orleans at 2:30pm and my friend Paul picked me up at the airport. He took me to the French Quarter and we walked around and had a hurricane drink at Lafitte's on Bourbon and St Philip. Afterwards, we went to his house in Chalmette and soon thereafter Paul had to go to work (he is a waiter at a new fancy French restaurant in an affluent town called Metairie). I was exhausted after the day of traveling so I ended up passing out fairly early.

Chalmette, I saw and learned, is an area of New Orleans  that got hit pretty hard by the hurricane. A lot of the houses in the area had big spray painted X's on them with numbers and dates written in the empty spaces of the X. The date represents the date rescue workers came to the area and the number represents the number of dead bodies they found in the house. It was all quite sobering. Not nearly as devastating as what I was about to see, however.

Friday, February 29

Paul had to work a double shift on Friday so he left fairly early in the morning. Chalmette is nowhere near downtown New Orleans and there is no public transportation that comes from Chalmette to the French Quarter so I was kind of stuck at his place. I slept in, cleaned the kitchen, did some laundry, finished reading Persepolis (I'd started it on the flight) and got on the internet. What can I say; I clean when I'm bored! Later that afternoon his roommate took me downtown to the French Quarter and I walked around the Quarter for hours, checking out all the places I remembered from my first trip to New Orleans back in May 2002.

The energy of the French Quarter is amazing. It is one of the oldest cities in the United States and everything – the buildings, streets, architecture and energy – radiates a rich history. The architecture of the French Quarter is French and old Spanish. New Orleans was a huge slave port and there is a building in the Quarter where, during the slave days, they used to buy and sell men, women and children just come in from the boats on the Mississippi River. The building is now a restaurant/bar, but just knowing the history of the building brings up memories of times past.

Saturday, March 1

My friend Jennifer drove out from Baton Rouge where she lives to hang out with me for the day. Paul took me to a Starbucks off the highway, someplace easy for her to meet me, and then he had to go to work. It was great to see Jen! We went to the French Quarter and ate at a delicious Italian place called Mona Lisa's. Then we walked over to the French Market and looked around at the wares being sold and then wandered over to the Mississippi River. That evening we watched a movie (The Other Boleyn Girl) and after the movie let out, Jen had to make her way back to Baton Rouge.

At that point I was exhausted from walking around all day in the sun, so I decided to check into a hotel in the French Quarter. I hadn't intended on staying at a hotel but I also didn't realize that my friend Paul lived so far away from the Quarter and there was no public transportation from his place. So I figured the best decision would be to check into a hotel so that I'd be close to everything and able to get around on my own. I found a hotel on Chartres Street and St Philip (right in the heart of the Quarter) and they even gave me a discounted rate! I booked the room through Wednesday and Paul brought my suitcase when he got off work late that night.

Sunday, March 2

The night before I left for my trip to New Orleans, my cousin, Jon, from Detroit, MI called me saying he and his wife, Haabe, were going on a cruise docking from New Orleans and would be in the city all day Sunday. How serendipitous! I hadn't seen him for years and hadn't yet had a chance to meet his wife so I was very excited at the prospect of getting a chance to see and hang out with them.

I awoke early on Sunday morning and enjoyed the free breakfast from the hotel. I ate in the gorgeous hotel garden and read the morning paper. Then, I walked around the Quarter for a bit and decided to take the streetcar out to the Garden District / Uptown. I knew there were some cemeteries out there and I wanted to take some photos. So I hopped on the streetcar and rode it up St. Charles Avenue, past all the mansions and gorgeous homes. I rode the car to the end of the line and discovered that the cemeteries were closed on Sunday! So I walked around and had a salad and a beer at a restaurant in the area.

Jon then called and told me they were checked in to their hotel, so I got on the streetcar and went back to the Quarter. I met them at their hotel and we walked around the Quarter. I showed them the things I'd already seen and we had some hurricane drinks at Lafitte's. Lafitte's is one of the oldest bars in New Orleans; it was originally a blacksmith shop and the building itself leans to the right. It is lit at night completely by candlelight, there is no electricity. It's an amazing bar with great energy; I love it there! Anyway, we had quite a few of the hurricanes and then walked over to a restaurant, where I had a vegetarian po'boy (made with eggplant instead of the usual seafood). At that point we were all exhausted from walking and drinking, so we went to our respective hotels. I ended up passing out; as I'm sure they did too!

Monday, March 3

I woke up early and made plans with Jon and Haabe to meet for breakfast. We ate at a small diner on the corner of Bourbon and Ursalines and had a very greasy southern breakfast. It was delicious, of course! Then we walked over near Café du Monde and took a horse drawn carriage tour through the Quarter. The tour was amazing, we learned about the history of the French Quarter and specific little details about various buildings and sites. We even saw Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's $4mil home in the Quarter! After the tour Jon and Haabe had to get a cab to get on the cruise ship, so we parted ways.

I walked around the Quarter and took in the sights. The architecture in the French Quarter is mind blowing! I adore all the French doors and windows and the shutters. It is truly an amazing area. After walking around the Quarter for a while, I took the streetcar up St. Charles to the Garden District to check out the cemetery on Washington Street. Despite the dark clouds and weather reports threatening of a huge storm, it thankfully did not rain.

The cemetery I visited was called the Lafayette Cemetery No. 1. I don't know the history of it as I did not take a tour, but it's the first cemetery I visited when I came to New Orleans back in 2002. It's amazingly old and strangely there were a bunch of newborn and baby graves there, which was sad. I took a ton of photos and I think they came out pretty good!

That night I went to a Prix Fixe dinner at a new Italian restaurant in the Maranie district (right outside the French Quarter, past Esplanade and up Frenchmen Street) with Paul and a group of his friends. The menu was eight courses and most of it was seafood, so I asked if they could accommodate a vegetarian! They did, and I had eight delicious vegetarian courses. The chefs were visiting from Italy and boy, that food was excellent!! We also shared about six bottles of wine. Dinner was definitely a good time had by all. After dinner, I went back to my hotel room and passed out.

Tuesday, March 4

Two more days left in New Orleans and my heart was feeling heavy already with a nostalgic sense of both having lived here before and wanting to live here again. The rich history and old energy of the city are something I can't get enough of. The city thrives on its past and the memories of the vivid and powerful history resonates within everyone walking its streets, myself especially.

I woke up early (seems to be a theme with me, no?) and after showering took my laptop to a café one block from the hotel. I ordered breakfast and plugged in to the internet. I checked my email and edited the photos I'd taken for a few hours and then Paul came by to pick me up.

We tried to figure out what to do; since Paul didn't have to work that day he wanted to do something with me. We looked at tours and maps and I decided to book a swamp tour for Wednesday morning and told him today I wanted to see the 9^th Ward – the area Katrina had completely demolished. I also wanted to check out some more cemeteries.

So we headed out, first going to the 9^th Ward. The houses there were like the ones in Chalmette, but the difference was, there was a lot more ruin. Most of the homes were either simply not there anymore (just foundations) and the ones that were standing were completely gutted out and empty inside. I took lots of photos and walked through some of the empty buildings. As we got closer to the levee that broke the houses became sparser. In fact, what was once a flourishing neighborhood was now a field of tall green grass. The sight of this was incredibly sobering and both Paul and I had somber, thoughtful attitudes as we walked through the devastation.

One house in particular hit me hard. In the middle of a large empty space of green fields was a house. As we drove up to it, we could see it was leaning on its side and the back had been completely ripped off. This house was different from the other homes because it was not gutted; all of the belongings of the family that had lived there were still there, ruined and demolished. There were band-aids painted on the side of the house; it was clear someone had painted them as a cry for help, a "fix me" sort of plea. But the band-aids weren't enough to fix this. Whomever had lived here clearly never came back to claim their belongings. I took many photos and walked around the house slowly. I got into the front door and shot stills of the living room where a family once sat watching the TV that was now on its side. As I walked around to the back of the house Paul pointed out a little brown baby doll lying in the grass, its stomach split open and stuffing coming out. The dolls eyes were crusted shut with dirt and soot. Its limbs were splayed out, its dress pulled up around its neck.

Seeing this almost made me cry. The house that no one wanted to come back to; the home no one wanted to claim; the wreckage and ruin of this home that had once been inhabited by a little girl and her dolly; the fact that after almost THREE YEARS New Orleans was still in ruins, still damaged, still desolate. It made me angry to realize this. It's not something we, living outside of New Orleans, think about much. We don't consider what those people went through back in August 2005, the loss they experienced, and the pain they went through, knowing their own country did not care about them enough to help them in their time of need.

After Paul and I had spent about two hours driving around and taking photos, we went on to find a cemetery. We found one in an affluent neighborhood of Metairie – the crypts were made of marble and were clearly for rich families. The neighborhood surrounding the cemetery was one of gorgeous mansions. I took some photos and we walked around for a while and then decided to find some lunch.

We went to eat on Magazine Street at a Mexican restaurant that I'd read about in the newspaper. It was delicious! Then we walked around the boutique lined street and I bought some things. After that we went to a bar in the Quarter and had some drinks. I went to bed pretty early that night because I had to wake up early for the swamp tour the next morning.

Wednesday, March 5

The Honey Island Swamp Tour bus came to pick me up at 8am and we took about an hour drive out to the Honey Island Swamp. The tour was amazing! Because it was so early, the group was pretty small, about nine people. We drove through the swamp and bayou on the boat and learned a lot about alligators, wild hogs and swamp snakes. I got some great photos and I think one of the best is of a Heron flying above the water, its reflection in the dirty swamp below. We got to see two alligators and two very large wild hogs. I love nature!

When I got back to the Quarter around noon I walked around and did some shopping as I had to get souvenirs for my friends and family! I had also seen an artist in the French Market whose work I LOVED so I went back to his booth and bought four pieces of his work. After shopping, I went to Angeli and had lunch. I'd heard a lot about Angeli from the locals (Paul's friends, who are all in the restaurant business, so I trust their opinion on where to eat!) and I just had to try it. It was not a disappointment, very delicious food! Then I walked around the Quarter and took some more photos and started saying my goodbyes to the city. As the sun went down I found myself back at Lafitte's on Bourbon, sipping quietly on a hurricane while reflecting on my trip. I decided to get a second hurricane, which I knew would make me happy and tipsy, and then decided to walk over to the Maranie district to get some dinner.

I dropped my purchases off at my hotel on the way, and then walked out of the Quarter, up Esplanade and turned left onto Frenchmen, which is the main street in the Maranie and is lined with bars, clubs and restaurants. As I was walking looking for a place to eat, a young man walking the opposite direction said something to me. I stopped, turned around, and asked him what he meant. He'd said some southern slang that I wasn't accustomed to hearing. He turned around and we started talking. I think I must have asked him about Katrina because that's immediately what he started talking about.

He was only 24 years old and had been living in the lower 9^th Ward when Katrina hit. His mother, a nurse, was one of the people that had gone to Houston and she decided to stay there. He went to Houston too but decided to return to New Orleans and rebuild his home. I asked him where he was living and he said he was homeless, roaming the streets at night. During the day he sat outside with the scores of Mexican workers that have flooded the city to help rebuild the destructed areas and hoped he got picked up for work. He said he usually worked pretty regularly.

He talked to me for at least a half hour. I had the two hurricanes coursing through my blood and filling my bladder so I suggested we step into a restaurant so I could both use the bathroom and get something to eat. So we went into a hookah bar and ordered a hookah to share. He'd never had one and funnily he didn't understand when I told him it was just flavored tobacco and no, it would not really make him high. Anyway, we smoked the hookah and talked for at least two hours.

His story touched me very deeply. Hearing the personal account of a young man that had survived Katrina was so powerful for me, it really hit home the devastation that the people had lived through, total destruction and eradication that hasn't hit this country in many years through a natural disaster. His story filled me with the desire to help in any way that I can. But what can I do?

It was getting late and I told him I had to go back to my hotel so that I could get some rest before my early flight the next morning. He told me he was going to go to Jackson Square Park and hang out for a few hours, then walk around for the rest of the night. We parted ways, me feeling heavy, depressed and unfathomably sad.

That night I had dreams that wouldn't let me sleep. I kept waking up in cold sweats, feeling chased, feeling pursued. I don't recall the exact details of the dreams, but they were urgent and the overall energy of them told me I had to do something, NOW. Take some action, NOW. Waking up in the morning wasn't easy; saying goodbye to New Orleans wasn't easy, but I know I'll be back to the Big Easy, maybe even to live.

< End daily journal >

I knew, the first time I saw the city from the window of my truck back in May 2002 that I loved New Orleans. If anything spending more time there this time around has made me love it even more. I want to live there so badly. I don't know when and I don't know how, but I do know that I need to live there at some point before my life here is over. It is an amazing city and the energy draws me to it; I know that I have some serious life lessons to learn there. New York City will always be number one in my heart, but New Orleans is a very close second. Ah, the south… a magical place to be, indeed.

Currently reading : The Complete Persepolis: Now a Major Motion Picture By Marjane Satrapi Release date: 30 October, 2007

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