I'm back. Alive. My phone is in tact (despite a few inevitable case chips - I am a spaz, ok?), my wallet is full of its contents, and I didn't even manage to lose my favorite Smashbox lipstick. Success? I think yes.
NoLa, you were one hell of a time and even that is an understatement. Alright, so let's give you a little update....the good, the bad, the ugly and the well, spastic. Naturally. Ok, so I flew into New Orleans on Monday afternoon, full of life, energy, iced coffee, and only minor bags under my eyes. I was feeling goooooood - ready to take on the Big Easy for a few days. Seems manageable, right? Wrong. I kid, sorta. First night in, I managed to throw back a few Hurricanes, because well when a boozy drink is considered authentic to the area you don't ask questions, and did not eat a proper dinner. Mistake #1, well underway. We hit up a party, then a jazz bar on Frenchman (notorious for the live music), and proceeded to Pat O'Brien's, per a variety of recommendations. Let's just say the Hurricanes were flowingggggg. :: Sigh ::
I made it back to my hotel in one piece. Success.
{ Cafe du Monde looking mighty fine }
Day two? The French Quarter. There's something oddly rewarding (is that the right word? Whatever I'm just gonna run with it) about exploring a new city solo. Am I right or am I right? I walked past Cafe du Monde, the place notorious for its beignets (which I sadly did not get one because the line was too long. Major meh moment.), walked through the French Quarter Market, hit up an outdoor patio for lunch and jazz music, and walked the streets with a Bloody Mary in hand. If that doesn't scream New Orleans, I don't know what does. Oh and I got a pedicab by myself. I was feelin' myself, you guys. That morning / afternoon was most definitely my favorite part because I got to take on the culture solo and it was actually quite liberating. Seriously.
Day two night: Prep for our client party, which was obvi La La Land themed. Because, well it's my favorite movie and how can you not run with the theme - NoLa Land? Rhetorical question. With a jazz singer, who naturally was playing "City of Stars" and other La La Land numbers, to the intimate speak easy vibe of the Maison Bourbon Jazz Club to the wraparound balcony that overlooked Bourbon Street, the venue could seriously have not been more perfect for a little soiree. Fast forward to a night out on Bourbon Street, naturally, and FaceTiming Justin Bieber (yes, that actually happened - I'll show you the vids) and feeding him a half eaten piece of pepperoni pizza via FaceTime - I must say the night was a success. Well, minus the 5am bed time, but let's just forget that happened. K, great.
{ Well hello there, Mississippi (yes I did the whole M-I-S-S-I-P-P-I thing to get the spelling right. }
My body hated me the next morning. A few Advils, a large iced coffee, and some big, I mean really big, sunglasses later on I was ready to somewhat conquer the day even if I was hungover. Fast forward to the airport. Let me preface this by saying that I get super anxious before I head to the airport, mostly in the security line because I always manage to feel like I'm going to miss my flight even if I'm an 1.5 hour early. Well, to no surprise - I was early and made it through security successfully.
Check. Next up, make it to Atlanta - my connecting destination. Welp, I realize my next flight is in 20 minutes and it's completely across the airport. Not ideal, not ideal at all. My anxiety kicks in and I start going into full-on sprint mode...yes, running in the airport. In a dress. With a huge book bag on my back (it's actually bigger than me). It was that whole classic movie scene where you're swerving in between everyone, sweating, and simultaneously trying to keep yourself from knocking over small children. Totally casual. No one went down for the count soooo success? I think yes.
{ I had a weird obsession with all the colorful buildings. Can you tell? }
Whew. I make it to my gate to find out that my flight is delayed. BY 2 HOURS. I mean at least I got my workout in, I guess? Whatever. I post up on the ground of the airport because a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do when finding an outlet in an airport and every single piece of technology I have on me is dead. Of course, right. Meh. Finally, after a semi-delirious cat nap on the floor of the airport I board the plane. Ok, success. Between struggling with the arm rest and somehow managing to fall asleep on a plane - I was out cold. Well, sorta. You know those weird twitches you make right before you fall asleep. Tell me I'm not the only one this happens to. Ok, great. Glad that's covered. Well, picture me, delirious and hungover, sitting next to a 70-year-old man (who was also getting a little shut eye), and next thing you know I twitch. Like not a slight, minor one, the full on aggressive twitch that had the man next to me jumping from his seat. In a weird state of confusion, I mumbled 'I'm so sorry' despite laughing hysterically - pretty sure the people behind me got a kick out of my spastic nature. Anddddd that's a wrap. I mean I can't tell you every little single detail, but you get the idea.
To much surprise, I successfully made it home. In one piece. :: praise ::
NoLa, thank you - you pretty little thang you.
{ Again, buildings... }