My City

Apologies for the lack of updates. I don't think anyone reads this, so I'll be apologizing to the cosmos alone. I've been drinking. That's my warning.

Too much has been going on. Work has been draining me ... disaster talk ... more duties than I can fit into a day. But, the fact is I still enjoy my job for the most part and consider it a blessing to have. I get paid to be creative, push a few buttons, and direct people as best I can. I can't complain.

Some opportunities are opening up before me, and I can scarcely juggle them all. I mean that in a positive sense. I wouldn't put these things in the rotation if they weren't worthwhile and I didn't believe in them. I have paid writing gigs, paid film and TV and editing opportunities. Creative outlets are becoming increasingly available, and it's everything I ever hoped for. Sometimes I find myself stressed and ungrateful because there's too much on my plate. I have to slap myself out of this, and realize that the dark side of opportunity is still something I've always wanted. Eventually the pony has to shit. But, I still have the fucking pony.

I'm riding around the city tonight ... listening to music after hanging out with friends ... generally having the kind of weekend I've needed for a long time. And as much as I talk about leaving New Orleans, and as much trash as I talk about this city I live in ... I love it. Deeply and truly, I do love New Orleans. The city has a push pull relationship with me that I can almost equate to the mildly crazy girl you love dearly. She hurts you. You wonder why you put up with all this shit, but in the end ... it's because she's mysterious and magical and compelling. She keeps you on your toes and keeps you honest. The crazy ones are truly the most honest people. And in a strange way, this city is the most honest I can think of in its identity.

I talk often about leaving New Orleans ... but, in the end ... this is MY city. I love it. I'm able to take it for granted because I truly feel at home here. I'm comfortable. I admire it's broken, cracked spirit. It's an old, drunken whore who will still bring you soup if you're ill.

As for the podcast, my apologies for not keeping that consistent and weekly as of late. There has been too much going on, and I've just realized the pressure of keeping a few people appeased is not worth the sanity it's costing me. I'll keep doing it. This is my promise. It just may not be like clockwork. Hopefully you guys will stick with me, and when one DOES pop up, it'll be more of an event. Maybe that's just lazy justification on my part.

Has any of this been coherent? Who am I talking to? I don't think anyone is reading this. But, I've found it quite nice to jot these thoughts down. So, thank you binary code. And good night.

Much more to come. And much love transmitted.