Every night this past week and all yesterday I worked on a project for Amie Evans related to the Saints and Sinners Literary Festival. My hands are killing me. I work on the computer all day, and I write all evening, but work involves surfing for research followed by reading, and writing is bursts of furious typing followed by staring at the screen while I try to figure out what to write next. None of which prepares me for hours on end of data entry. It's a good thing Amie bribed me with chocolate. I sure as heck wouldn't be this diligent for a banana Moon Pie.
Between reading Greg Herren's blog and working on this database, I'm getting that itch to be back in New Orleans. Something about that town got under my skin, and every year about this time I realize that May is too damn far away. I can't even define what it is that draws me back. (Not the food. Most people rave about Cajun cuisine, but I'm allergic to so much of it that finding food in New Orleans is actually a challenge for me.) It's the music, it's the architecture, it's that feeling of being in one of the few remaining unique places in the US, it's the energy, it's the people, but even that list doesn't sum up that certain unidentifiable something that New Orleans has.