Howdy all and a belated happy Mother’s Day to all you wonderful mothers. You know who you are. I hope you had a wonderful day!
I left town on May 4th for a chick trip to a condo on the beach near Tampa, Florida. Hit the ground running. I found out that sun, sand, Peach Jell-O shots, pina coladas and 5 hysterical giggling women do not mix well with dragging out the old laptop. It was all a hilarious blast and I’ll get into the details in a later post.
Returned from that trip late Wednesday the 9th, vegetated for a day, and turned right around and drove to New Orleans on Friday with Mr. Husband. My nephew graduated from Loyola University with a Bachelor of Arts in Music. The festivities were held in the Super Dome of all places. What a crazy scene. I think many confused it with being at the dome for a Saints football game. The result was the noisiest, craziest graduation I’ve ever been to in my life.
People were screaming, yelling, changing seats constantly, and dragging nachos and soft drinks over the heads of people wearing suits and dresses. The festivities finally escalated to people blasting air horns and blowing on plastic trumpets. I don’t think I ever laughed so hard.
When our beloved nephew, brother, grandson, walked across the stage to receive his diploma we decided “ah what the hell”, and we yelled too. This was a momentous day for our family. No one in recent history, that we can recall, has actually graduated from college. A few of us have attended college, but got too busy making and raising babies to finish.
The evening consisted of bar hopping all over the French Quarter with the usual slight tipsiness. I won’t go into those details, mainly because my memories are a little fuzzy.
Mr. Husband and I got to do a little movie star-gazing while we were at the hotel. At Saturday breakfast we saw Sylvester Stallone loading up at the breakfast buffet. Then Sunday night I was loitering outside the hotel smoking and people watching. A black Chevy Suburban pulled up to valet parking and out climbs Arnold Schwarzenegger, with an escort of 3 body guards or groupies. I’m thinking maybe Sly and Arnie are in town to discuss their upcoming movie I’ve heard some gossip about. Or maybe just to party. Hey, it is New Orleans after all.
For mother’s day we all trooped down to the Old Coffee Pot for brunch. It’s on Rue St. Peter a few doors down from Pat O’Brien’s and has the best breakfast and bloody maries to be had in the city, in my not so humble opinion. After that we ditched the youngins and headed up to the pool on the roof of my hotel. 29 floors up and what a view. Almost scary, we kind of felt like we were going to get blown off at one point.
That evening it’s off to Tipitina’s on Napoleon Street up town for some Cajun dancing. I found out that I’m a bit out of shape. I get swept out on the dance floor almost immediately and by the time I took a break I thought a lung was gonna shoot out my nose like a big chunk of bubble gum. My shoe broke, but I kept on dancing.
Mom managed to dance a few numbers even though she forgot to wear sturdy shoes and had on flip-flops. Cajun dancing is extremely energetic and you absolutely need shoes that stay on your feet. Couldn’t get Mr. Husband to dance, but I intend to work on it if it takes me the rest of my natural life.
So the big family news this time around is another nephew who is 18 and married to a 17-year-old girl with 2 children already. She is pregnant with identical twins!!!! Oh….my….God. It was the talk of the weekend. Those of us with grown children thanked our lucky stars that we are done with all that.
It’s been a wild and crazy couple of weeks and I’m glad to be home. There’s no place like it. I may go to bed for a week. All the better to plan my next trip.