Now, I've heard different things: the baby means good luck, the baby means you have to throw the party for Mardi Gras next year, the baby means you just bring the king cake to the party next year, and our idea that if you find it, you're going to have a baby this year. So who found it?
Yay for Maggie! She found the baby the day after we went to a parade in Baton Rouge:
Those are jello shots... in a large syringe. I've never seen anything more fun or overpriced.
There's Bean, James and Jamie at the parade. Jamie was so cute in her pink (that's the theme color of that particular parade); luckily Maggie had a pink sweater and a pink scarf for me to borrow.
Bean blocking Jamie from getting beads just because he's like a foot taller than her.
Now I'm just going to throw it out there: 95% of the pictures from the next day in New Orleans are just plain ridiculous. We just look stupid; it's fun to laugh at, but stupid drunk pictures aren't something I feel the need to share with everyone. Therefore, out of over 120 I took off of my camera from the weekend, I have 3 from New Orleans I'd like to share:
That is Val Kilmer, the 'famous' guy and head guy in the Baccus parade, the last parade of the night on Sunday. I don't really know who he is, except that I knew a girl when I was in daycare who thought he was cute. And that was over 15 years ago.
There's me and Maggs on Bourbon street. It wasn't really that bad during the day, but we were back home by midnight, so I think we avoided most of the dangerous activity. The streets were pretty gross, but none of us had to throw away our shoes as we expected.
One of the most interesting things we saw were religious zealots walking the streets with these signs and yelling at people through a megaphone. I knew they were crazy when they had another sign that said something about 'drunks, adulterors, and Mormons'. They certainly got some attention! I won't post a picture of the lady and man in french maid lingerie standing right near them. We saw 4 pairs of boobs. Maggie and I each had a hurricane and a grenade. And we finished the evening at Cafe du Monde.
The next day we drove home; and the day after that, I found another baby: myself! I cut my finger on some metal shelving at work in the morning while I was still there by myself. I thought I was going to pass out so I called the nearest store and the manager came right over to help me get bandaged up. It's the deepest cut I've ever had and it grossed me out. Seeing a flap of skin like that is not something I'm interested in ever seeing again.
Then I had the privilege of listening to everyone give their opinion on the split I wore to avoid bending my thumb and reopening the wound; their opinion on me getting gangrene and having my thumb cut off; having metal particles in my body that could poison me; getting tetanus and dying, leaving my husband by himself; and all kinds of gross wounds they themselves have sustained. I'm hoping after this experience I've learned to tune all of that out as white noise, because all it did was make me worry.
And I discovered that I really am a baby because I didn't have a doctor look at it to avoid getting stitches (I've never had them and they scare me); and I waited 3 days to get a tetanus shot, simply because I was so afraid. The good news is: I'm not going to post a picture of it. And it's healed well enough that I've had no bandages on it practically all day today, and I'm using it to type right now!
The other good news: the freaking out over the shot was pointless because I could hardly feel it. It's a little sore now, but the actual shot was nothing. I officially consider myself a tough lady. I got a shot all by myself and dealt with a nasty wound without having stitches.
1 comments:
I'm so glad that Mormons were grouped with drunks and adulterors!
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