Airplane Diaries + NOLA Adventures Day 1

Oh, American Airlines. Pretty much the worst airline ever. Our flight was late taking off and we were literally in the back of the bus. I don't care except it's the loudest place on any airplane to be. Deal, right? So I sucked it up and sat there in my nice middle seat next to someone who always manages to hog the armrest. I nearly lost my lunch on our ascent because the turbulence was intense. The flight attendants were quite rude-- not to me but to everyone around. They were condescending and in my opinion, that's not acceptable while on the clock. And finally... le pièce de résistance. I had just fallen asleep and that's a huge deal since I rarely am able to fall asleep during flights. Anxiety, discomfort... not sure. Anyway, snoozing the time away to get rid of the headache that turbulence caused and I hear banging behind me. What is that noise, you ask? Well, it was this loveliness:

Why yes... that is indeed a finger skateboard. The adult behind me was playing with a finger skateboard on his tray table to pass the time away.

I proceeded to glance back through the seats and shoot him a swift dirty look upon which stopped him in his tracks. Silence ensued. As it should be. Please find another hobby, I beg you.

New Orleans. Here's my list of sleaziest U.S. cities closest to hell in the evil/disgusting category:

Hell
1. Las Vegas
2. New Orleans

Seriously.

Though I feel as though I'm on the edge of burning flames while I'm here, I still enjoy the architecture and just being in a city that is not still cold and on the brink of rain/snow at the end of April. The ironwork is gorgeous. The music culture is enjoyable. The food, decent. We stopped into a cajun/creole place for dinner and then walked around and down disgusting Bourbon Street trying to avoid the following things: beads being thrown from balconies, whores, drunk people, street performers, urine-infested sidewalks, the smell of vomit, smelly trashcans, and cars. One guy even called us "nerds" because we're clearly out of place on Bourbon Street. It went something like this: "You guys are lookin' like nerds. You're on Bourbon Street! C'mon!" We managed to make it to Frenchmen Street and found a cute bar to order a couple drinks and listen to Jazz. {In case you're wondering, my challenge is on a hiatus anytime I leave via jetplane. It will ensue upon touchdown in Chi-town. Hellllllo wine.} We even hit up Cafe Du Monde for beignets before heading to CVS to buy razors and a hairbrush that I forgot to pack to our hotel.

Excuse the red-eye I'm too lazy to edit. They're Blackberry photos, after all.

Mmm. Donuts. Beignets = glorified, but delish funnel cake.

Terrible lighting but a wonderful husband.