I don’t know when it happened, but I just hate being inside. Sometimes it’s because I’m afraid I’m missing out on something that might be happening out there, but more often just because I like to be outside. I’ve been sitting at home being sick and tired since Saturday: not ok. Thank goodness I woke up feeling considerably better, and J. and I were meeting at 1:00pm down in the Bywater–bike ride! Continue reading
I am still not feeling well. I’m so, so bad at being sick–I tend to just pretend I’m fine and go about my business and hope the cold or the flu or the whatever just disappears. The first time I dislocated my shoulder I remember pleading with my hosts to just take me home so I could ice it–I don’t want to be any trouble! But I’m just going to admit it. It might be allergies, it might be a cold, it might be some other throat thing, but whatever it is, I’m tired and worn out. Continue reading
I had one of those incredibly long days, the kind where you are working from the second you get up in the morning through to the evening and you can literally count the number of minutes where you weren’t doing something for the job. Fortunately, I love my job and working all day, while exhausting, means I get to think about a lot of different things in a lot of different ways. One of my students asked in seminar this afternoon how you tell the difference between the self you perform and the self you “really are.” Oh my. Continue reading
I’ve been under the weather this weekend. Maybe allergies, maybe a spring cold? I don’t know, but I do know that I’ve been sick more often in New Orleans than any other place I’ve lived, and I think that has something to do with the environment. It’s not safe here. I love it anyway, but the people who live here deserve clean air, water, and soil. The weekend’s malaise kept me off the bike, but I had a dinner party to attend in Mid-City this evening and after a day spent fantasizing, I really needed to get in a quick pedal. Continue reading
Today’s ride took me down to Jackson Square where I met I. to help her out with her bicycle survey that she’s doing for the Metro Bicycle Coalition on bike parking. There are no bike racks in the Quarter, and parking down there is way too much of an adventure. I know that, but do I really *know* that? Where do peoiple want to be able to put their bikes? Would our bikes be safer if we locked them up to racks? How far are people willing to walk from rack to destination? I asked a lot people those questions today, and I had a lot of people pretend I didn’t exist as I attempted to flag then down. It is an odd sensation, having people make eye contact with you but refuse to even suggest they hear you or recognize you as a fellow human being. How’s about we not do that, even if we are tired of being asked? It must be much, much harder to ask. Anyway. I saw lots of bikes and lots of bikers today, including this one in the Square. That guy’s towing some serious cargo. I want there to be room for everybody’s wheels. I sat on the steps of the Cabildo for a break, watching Critical Mass gathering, listening to a surprisingly good band, and counting the number of folks who wanted to pet that one dog–what is it about jowls? I do so love living in a world with so many different kinds of people, many of whom will wander through the square on warm spring days like this one.
Ok, the weather is just ridiculous in New Orleans right now. I got up early, read for a bit, and then took the bike out for a ride. After a couple hours of grading at the coffee shoppe I pedaled out with no destination. I headed toward the Lower 9th but was thwarted by the bridge up at the Industrial Canal. Wait, wait, wait, and then wait a little bit more, and then I was zipping around, trying to trace as many newly-paved roads as possible. Continue reading
Today’s ride took me up to campus for class, which was awesome, because the writer of the book we’re reading came and answered all our questions. How great is that? After getting some work done in the office and stopping at home to rest and read another book, I got back on the bike and headed down to Bayou St. John for the first meeting of volunteers for this April’s Patois Human Rights Film Festival. Continue reading