I don't know where to start…

The last week or so has been so hectic… a week ago today I was in Mamou, Louisiana watching chickens perish and men in thongs dance on vans. Just… so many things.

So I guess I’ll just write till I can’t write anymore and see where that leaves me.

Sunday, February 6
Woke up around 4:30 after 2 hours sleep, woke Sandy up, got a ride to the Sac airport for my 6:30 flight… turns out the flight was a codeshare and I had to catch the interterminal bus to A so that I could get onto my Continental flight. Slept on the plane, weird dreams about a Titanic-sized airplane with shops and aisles like a mall… then I woke up as the plane descended into the Houston airport. I had about 2 hours to wander, so I bought a green tea latte (yum), a sandwich, and a copy of Wicked to read. Very very different from the play… which was a bare-bones version and changed the plot. Two different tellings but each very good. 🙂 Arrived in Baton Rouge around 3 PM their time amid nasty muzak. Patrick picked me up and we went to meet Ross (the Nevadan), Jackie, and Debra at the mall. Like omigawd the mall. Rode home in Debra’s yellow Jeep Wrangler, hereafter known as the Short Bus. Wow. Think Sandy on crack – we move from assertive and sweet and funny to aggressive and dirty-minded and loud and fun… sort of like a magnifying glass.

Afterward, Patrick had planned a nice leisurely Superbowl get-together for us to get used to Louisiana before we hit New Orleans on Monday. Right. Chris and Derrick (the loosely defined partners of Jackie and Debra) showed up while J&D were out picking up refreshments.

Before I go further, allow me to state that Ross and I are living proof that college outings/Mardi Gras/etc can indeed be enjoyed without chemical enhancement. Go ahead and ask the witnesses if you doubt this statement.

So. J&D show up with chips, Red Bull, and vodka. Derrick drinks a tumbler full of the latter two. Then takes a shot. We spend two hours trying to sober him up.


  • Eat the *bleep* cracker, bitch!
  • Everything’s funny.
  • *squinty eyes and two thumbs up*
  • Save a horse, ride a cowboy!
  • Can I have a stick? no. Can I have a baseball bat? no. *takes candle, knocks self out with it*
  • Derrick, you have a star imprint on your forehead.
  • I thought if I could knock myself out I could sober up and not be a problem to you guys.
  • If I give the waitress $5, would she give me a lapdance?
  • No, I don’t know what I want to order. Just give me something.
  • Derrick, just drink your water, shut up, and let me do the talking.
  • Kangaroo-style?
  • Shoooo… I’m gunna run for NAB bizness manajur… *waitress nods and mouths “Okaaaaaay” while taking down orders*
  • Wow.

So we finally made it out to dinner about 15 minutes before the restaurant closed. And this was just our first night in Louisiana. Got home and did frantic work on the Newsletter as it turned out that there were about 15 clubs whose reports hadn’t made it through… while Patrick watched Anchorman and Ross slept. Whee. Slept from about 2 to 11 AM. Or so.

And that’s about where I’ll stop tonight… I’ll add to this post later.

~ by jackelopette on February 16, 2005.

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