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.

Update: not yet a fall day

It’s summer out there, in the street of New Orleans, under the trees—the crows will have you know, you haven’t escaped the hot sun just yet. We do get some respite from the sun in the early mornings and nights, starting around six. I miss the energetic breezy, fall days of New York, the ones that include scarves and gloves. I told a friend the other day, I’m so excited for winter.” Whenever I say this, I receive a look of, are you serious? Surely I wouldn’t be saying this, if I were up North. But we always miss what we don’t have. Soon it will be November and it will get slightly colder, and the birds will be down here, keeping us company until the ruthless sun comes back next year. Below are some  of my wanderings last month.

Mobile Museum of Art

When I was in Alabama last month I visited the Mobile Museum of Art. They have three floors of displays with most of the modern art in the first floor. The museum once hosted an art fair, and some of the pieces from the time were kept. My favorite floor was the one displaying period pieces: sculptures, ceramic, glass, tapestry from different parts of the world. American, Chinese, Tibetan, and European. There was a section that had a large timeline of America. It felt surreal seeing all these dates and historic events, and it made think about my place in history? The last floor was mostly abstract or self-taught art— some of it moving, like boats in the ceiling floated that floated in my mind.

St. Claude and French Quarter Galleries

Sometimes you stumble into creepy art exhibits while getting free wine on a second saturday of every month. Usually at St. Claude but surprisingly there was something similar in the  French Quarter galleries that one night. I didn’t know what to make of the two male mannequins holding the rabbits in the New Orleans Art Center, was upside down and the other by the ear. It made me think about the secrets of childhood and sharing them with your siblings in this case twins. The photo on the right is a dollhouse living room shown in the Antieau Gallery; it’s a replica of Killer Clown’s actual home, the one where he buried a bunch of people. Notice all the clown portraits (scary). Dollhouses are so cute, until it’s a replica of a killer’s home.

Butterflies at the Insectarium

In all my time in New Orleans, I never wandered into the Insectarium; surprising, since I love butterflies. The day I went, they were having a free day. I walked in to find families and little kids running around, saying “look mommy!” And babies being only slightly creeped out. Some people stood by the plaques of info, read and took photos of live and dead insects on display. There was a room just for butterflies, live ones that fly over you head, sometimes deciding to pay you a visit and sit on your head or shoulder. Other ones pretend to be dead on the floor but are recovering slowly because they been flying around too much and have broken off a part of their wing.

Making a bird house

I finally made a bird house, granted all the materials were provided in a bird house class at the Botanical Garden, but I built one, and more work is needed since I still have to paint it. These fancy bird houses above were made by some talented bird house makers. The person who taught the class is an avid birdwatcher and bird house architect John A. Talluto, who makes the cutest bird houses, some distinctly New Orleans style. We made the basic shaped ones, but the bird house exhibit made me think about creating new designs.

On St. Charles

Some time last week, I was walking on St. Charles, killing time until a writing workshop. Apart from looking at the old mansions, the runners, and sighing at the elaborate gardens and fountains with the street cars brushing by every so often, I saw a Halloween display, filled with skeletons, some in the gaudiest outfits, loungy pajamas or totally naked, displaying relevant puns and humor. A creepy mansion with funny skeletons: this is Halloween in New Orleans.