Please stop feeding me

Hot tea causes passive aggression in the South.

Christ, this isn't how it works. You put the bag IN the mug.
Christ, this isn’t how it works. You put the bag IN the mug.

And I don’t care how eccentric your city is, this is just wrong:Collage 2015-11-15 20_14_53

Where are we–day three? I’ve lost my place. I’m going to try to combine all the things into one post without making this a novel. *cracks knuckles*

I think the itinerary for day three stated, “Why do one plantation when you can do three?!” But the hijinx from the night before slowed our roll quite a bit, and we were lucky to even get one in.

I present to you (1) Oak Alley

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(Props to Alex for letting me use a real camera for an afternoon and sharing her pics with me to post for your enjoyment.)

And (2) Ligia, the cutest birthday girl ever.


And can I talk about my awesome brother for a minute? I am so grateful for our relationship–we tease each other, we tell each other the hard truth, we say things at the same time. We laugh a LOT. We’re lucky.


Also awesome is the fact that Alex totally caught us in the act of taking a selfie…

I should feel shame, but I don’t.

Now, for Ligia’s birthday dinner, Little brother got a reservation at a Brazilian joint called Churra’s right outside the city. We were running late, so Little brother called to let them know. And thank god…


Phew! Glad they didn’t give the table to someone else. For realz though, it was good! The guy carving the meat was the nicest, happiest person cooking and slicing meat I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. Also, we damn near wrecked ourselves with the buffet situation there. We consumed a lot of food. Good lord.


Speaking of food, our last full day in Nola was not for the average eater.

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You name it, we ate it. Even though we shared family style, we were in a world of hurt by the end of the day. I’m super impressed by the hollow leg each Colombian is carrying around. I have no idea where they put the food. I, on the other hand, will be recovering for quite some time.


So New Orleans is pretty badass. I love that all of our party stayed within three short blocks of each other and met up on the sidewalk each morning with a hug and kiss on the cheek. I love that Garrett gets excited about the courtyards and history of this little city and shared all of it with me, bypassing staff in some cases to show me little gems around each corner.

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In truth, Bourbon Street is not my speed. There’s no way I could do Mardi Gras. No way. I know my limits when it comes to crowds. The rest of it, however, is great and a lot to take in. Looks like I’ll have to go back to further my education.

And then there was the trolley ride where Ligia sat behind Little brother and me and was verbally abused by a crazy lady, who, incidentally, is a tour guide in Nola–we don’t know where, so luck of the draw getting that tour, I guess. The crazy lady went on and on and on and on about what a mess this country is and how she’s going to move to Scotland. Little brother and I texted the conversation to each other in real time and giggled like 12-year-old girls. And poor Ligia knew exactly what we were doing.

Mostly her words. A little commentary from me.
Mostly her words. A little commentary from me.

On the last night, we took the Voodoo Bone Lady Haunted Tour, which was great. If you watched season 3 of American Horror Story, you’ll appreciate the true Lalaurie house of horrors. If you haven’t heard of this, go read up on it and give yourself nightmares.

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I want to take a moment and give a shout out to all of the people I shared this experience with. Alex and Garrett, you are fun and gregarious and welcomed me with open arms. Ligia Sr., you are a good sport–you stayed up late with us every night, and walked around with us every day. You’re a sweetheart, and if I knew how to say any of this in Spanish, I would. Ligia, thank you for having a destination birthday and for taking good care of my brother. You are an incredible woman, and I love you so much. And Michael, I’m sorry my Venn diagram from the earlier post disappointed you. But I’m so happy I got to take a vacation with you.

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An ass shot at a classy museum. Again, I should feel shame. But I don’t.

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5 thoughts on “Please stop feeding me

  1. Enjoyed your blog! Glad you had a good time visiting our city & the plantations. Thanks for allowing us to join y’all for dinner. Really enjoyed it! Until we meet again!

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