Endymion Parade

Good morning America, how are you?

I didn’t feel like working today so I took a streetcar down to the famous Garden District. Sandra Bullock has a house there, so I figured maybe I’d run into her and we’d really hit it off. But then I’d probably resent her success and feel awkward when she took me to nice restaurants and bought me presents – favors I couldn’t return. Plus, she’s like 50, which kind of poses a long-term problem. So ultimately I decided just to leisurely stroll through the upper-class neighborhood of charming architecture. Also, I don’t really like Sandra Bullock.

Commander’s Palace is a famous place right in the middle of the Garden District. I walked by it and took a picture.

Commanders Palace
$0.25 Martinis! But their lunch menu is not vegetarian-friendly.

Lafayette Cemetery was across the street too. I strolled through that, but found it kind of meh. It’s more famous for how old it is.

Lafayette Cemetary
Another cemetery where they are too lazy to dig.

And then I walked through the streets, hit up Starbucks, then walked Magazine Street all the way back to Canal Street near the French Quarter.

After getting some work done back at the apartment, I stopped by The Bulldog and had a couple beers on pint night (free glass with each beer). When I got there, I stood there and kept getting passed up on being served, which didn’t make me happy. But whatever. I didn’t let it ruin my day. They have a nice little beer garden, comfortable chairs, and a solid beer selection. I didn’t find it mesmerizing though.

Dan got here Thursday and we went grocery shopping and then cooked some cajun things. He had pork and I had tofu and quinoa. We then explored mid-city and went to Finn McCools Irish Pub and Twelve Mile Limit. They were both nice neighborhood bars, but I wouldn’t say they were anything special (not that neighborhood bars should be). Our last stop was Red Door on our way back, which was a bit divier, but pleasant enough.

Friday we scoped out the beginning of a parade and wandered around French Quarter for a bit. I’ve mastered breezing by the “do you have a few min..” “No” without even slowing down. Dan on the other hand, is the worst. He pets homeless people’s dogs, talks to people that are looking for people to pray for, and chats with bible-pounders. So I was dragooned into talking to some kid about Jesus while waiting for Dan for like 10 minutes.

Anyways, what else did we do. There was a great blues band at Checkpoint Charlies so we went in there at the end of the night. It was mostly just buying beers and walking around before that. I went to Boondock Saint for a bit, which was just a small Irish Bar off Bourbon.

Endymion Parade
Marchin’ and marchin’

Endymion is the super krewe that goes through MidCity, so we went to that. Quite the festival, lots of people, blah blah. Left the parade a bit early and stopped at Fellini’s Cafe for a pizza and watched the Syracuse vs. Duke game.

Then we took a nap because we’re adults with a responsible grasp of our partying capabilities. Went down to the French Quarter around 10 and met some friends; it was nice to have a group of people to walk around with and enjoy the festivities.

Krewe of Bacchus was another parade.  Here are a couple floats.

Where the Wild Things Are
Let the wild rumpus start
Krewe of Bacchus float
This is the first alligator I’ve seen but the fear is still very much alive.

My report for Mardi Gras weekend consists completely of just walking around and people watching and checking out different bars.

I’m just going with my favorite places: St. LawrenceLafitte’s Blacksmith Shop, Backspace Bar & Kitchen, Boondock Saint, Old Absinthe House, and Chart Room.

Bourbon Street is as advertised, and actually oftentimes not really as busy as I thought it was going to be.  While we spent some time there, I preferred the side streets.

Mardi Gras mess
Post-parade mess
Giant Jesus statue is judging you.
Giant Jesus statue shadow is judging you.

I would also like to say, for the record, that I haven’t been hungover at all.  A little tired, at worst.  So if you’re looking for tips on how to sensibly and responsibly enjoy a bacchanal (the paradoxical nature of that statement is not lost on me) while still being sufficiently social feel free to look me up.

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