Talk Too Much, Laugh Too Loud

I moved here in August of '09 and had no idea what the hell I was doing. I moved here for grad school, and came based mostly on the recommendation of my former boss Angelle. She guaranteed me that I would love living in New Orleans, that the city, much like me, partied all night, but was still Catholic in the morning. I would have came just for the to-go cups, but I couldn't even fathom the idea.

Mardi Gras 2011

I knew nothing of New Orleans. My preconceived notions revolved around tubas, boobies, drunkenness, and Mardi Gras. I had heard of Katrina, but didn't really understand it (after living in the city for three years I still really don't understand it.) But I was ready for an adventure. Before moving here I didn't visit, I just found an apartment and moved. The only "research" I did was a bit of cruising on the old YouTube and I stumbled upon a video of Anthony Bourdain's, No Reservations. And while I can't really remember anything Tony said, he introduced me to Chris Rose, an author and columnist that we here in NOLA love. (Read 1 Dead in Attic when y'all get the time) and Chris Rose said:

No, But Really?

"Dear America, I suppose we should introduce ourselves. We're South Louisiana. We might be staying around your town for awhile. You probably already know we talk funny and listen to strange music and eat things you'd probably hire an exterminator to get out of your yard. We talk too much and laugh too loud and live too large, and frankly we're suspicious of others who don't. We make jokes at inappropriate times. You probably heard that many of us stayed behind. As bad as it is, many of us can not fathom a life outside our border, out in that place we call elsewhere. When you meet us now and look into our eyes, you will see the saddest story ever told. But, don't pity us. We're gonna make it. We're resilient. And, one more thing, in our part of the country, we're used to having visitors. It's our way of life. So, when all this over and we move back home, we will repay to you the hospitality and generosity of spirit you offer us in this season of our despair. That is our promise, that is our faith."

And that's when I knew that New Orleans would be for me - loud, laugh-heavy, live-music junkie, foodie, and beer-guzzler - I fit the New Orleans paradigm. There are those of us that once we have lived here, can't understand why people live elsewhere. One of my friends, born and raised here, was asked what it would take for her to move out of New Orleans, "Wild horses couldn't drag my body out of this city," she responded. And she's right, while the rest of use go through the processes of "differentiation of self" or "enmeshment" and wonder about our birth order and how we are going to get the hell out of dodge, in New Orleans they are figuring out how to stay. They want to live next door to their momma's house, eat what they eat, and dance in the street with their to-go cups. And I'm all in. So that's what I'll be doing, living here in New Orleans, and sharing the events as they unfold. And if I go off story, or start talking about wanting to be a priest, or my family, or whatever, don't worry, I talk too much and laugh too loud, and live too large, and I'll get back around to it, sometimes I just gotta make the proverbial block, as long as I don't start to make proverbial groceries, I think we'll be just fine.

Yeah You Right, Joe.