Update: raining jobbies plus bike accident

Image: Cynthia Via

For the last few weeks it has been raining jobbies. I had applied to some in February and was getting suspicious that my phone was still silent. I should have known Mardi Gras was no time to be searching for jobs, because towards mid-March I was getting phone calls and some interviews. Albeit there was one job scam I thwarted, and I also had a bike accident that halted my energy, but overall it was a productive month including an article I published for Nola Defenders.

Everything was going well until that turn. Last week I headed to the CBD wearing my helmet, and decided to turn on St. Charles, possibly the worst idea of the week. My wheel got caught in one of the exposed rails where you could see the cement floor had parted and was protruding over the rails. My bike was wheezing by but couldn’t make it over and I fell on my left side and hit my head. I could see the gray cement for blocks. I quickly got up and the pain didn’t begin until I stepped on the sidewalk. I heard people from afar asking, “Are you ok?” I had little bright lights flashing above my eyes. No cars passed by. I noticed I had a big scrape on my left knee as a guy in a suit approached me. “Are you sure you’re ok?” He asked. I was alive if that’s what he meant, and functional to a certain degree. I walked over to Gravier St, locked my bike and went to CVS to get band-aids and Neosporin. I had some clean napkins to subside the bleeding, though it wasn’t a whole lot but it was still noticeably bloody.

My scrape is still healing but at least I’m past the terrible pain phase. After everything was over I noticed that I also had bruises on both of my legs.  The second day after the fall random headaches appeared that have faded by now, and it made me suspicious about how well I could function. I read somewhere that if you hit your head hard enough you can lose your memory or your personality may change. Days after I was noticeably tired and easily distraught, I also didn’t have much energy. I couldn’t pay attention when reading. I even found the smooth radio voices irritating. A couple of days after I went to an improv show, which had the opposite effect on me. Leaving my house was refreshing on its own and the laughs along with a strawberry beer made me feel relieved. Now I’m slowly starting to get back in action though yesterday was somewhat a lazy day, and only slightly productive with freelance work. Ever since I fell that day on St. Charles I’m less motivated to do anything but I know I have to push on.

Medicine: laughs and a strawberry beer.

This time last year

Image: Cynthia Via


I’m working from home. It’s late afternoon and it’s raining outside. Mini floods have covered the outside world. I woke up early to do some stretches and went to clean the kitchen only to find a mess. I woke up to find a quarter-sized hole in my pear that had been sitting over the counter, and a blue towel left with holes. Clearly this was the work of a rat. Days ago my roommates said they heard a rat behind the wall, and the landlord had set up traps in hidden corners.

This week was the hardest to bike since I’ve been in New Orleans. The winds have been going wild, threatening to punish my bike. Earlier a 30 minute bike ride to Bywater turned out to be a long hour ordeal, granted I was already late to an event. Before leaving I went outside to the black and white cats my roommate was feeding. I petted one of them, since the rest were still estranged. The friendlier one let me scratch his rump. Who knows how long my roommate had been out here petting the cats while I lay asleep.

It was still humid at 10 a.m. when I decided to leave. My tight jeans and jacket made it uncomfortable to bike, not to mention I was wearing flats and the air was sending a fury of leaves straight for my face. This was turning out to be arduous with the dirt in my eyes and my tight jeans. By the time I made it St. Roch, I was dreading the bike ride. I took off my jacket. By now my jeans were sticky, and I would arrive late. I heard the train noise from afar.  On Press St. that inopportune train passed by or, better yet, failed to pass. It was stalling, going back and forth— not clearing the tracks. Finally it started retreating. I was free from the train, but I still felt slow in my clothes. At least the cool air was back.


riding an old bike




Avoided accidents thanks to:

twin droopies on a leash

incoming trailer, passing

Who lives in that school bus?

“Hi, Ma’am”

dead possum on the road

“Are you Max’s friend?”

that house is pretty

“This is the first time I’m seeing this house.”

dead end

“You be safe, now.”