Indian summer

Yesterday was a series of adventures, moments leading from one to the next. They were all different, all significant (to me) in one way or another.

I was up early, planning on meeting my friend Paul so that we could walk to the Superdome for my first Saint's game. I'd never seen them play live and I'd never set foot in the infamous Superdome, so it was a day for firsts. It was Paul's first game as well (he's from England, where they play football with their feet).

"So this is what Sunday morning in New Orleans looks like, eh?" he said as we walked through the quite morning streets. It made me think instantly of Johnny Cash's "Sunday Morning Coming Down".

We waited for Leo and another friend (also called Paul) at Cafe Adelaide, where I ordered a mimosa and Paul had a bloody mary with so many vegetables in it that it required pruning before he could drink it. We considered the fact that New Orleans has to be a great destination for away team fans, as opposed to, say; the appeal of New Orleanians going to Cleveland to see a game.

Leo and the other Paul arrived and we wandered to the Superdome, which was only a few blocks away. We talked excitedly about the differences in attendance from pre-Katrina until now and how Leo's been a season ticket holder for ages. While we climbed the stairs to go tot he terrace where we'd be sitting, people sang "When the Saints go marching in" and chanted "who dat" in a way that made me excited to be there. I considered that New Orleans has a beautiful ability to celebrate, even in a place that could have been tainted by tragedy. When I caught a glimpse of the field, I smiled brightly, happy to be there with the company I was keeping, having another unique New Orleans experience.

The game itself was a bit of a tragedy, but it was still fun to watch. Afterwards we walked home int he rain, stopping at an Irish pub to get a drink and then wandering on after the rain had ended so that we could get something to eat. We picked up and lost people along the way, but it was all good fun.

The entire night would turn out to be a changing cast of faces, with Paul being the one constant. We'd see our way from one place to the next and others would come and go, each of them leaving something memorable of themselves behind in the story of where we'd been all day. When Paul finally made his way home with his girlfriend, I wandered home myself.

I was enjoying the Indian summer, which allowed me to wear short sleeves into the evening for perhaps the last time this year. I could smell the little bit of dampness that the day of rain had left behind and it was nice. My footsteps were the only noise I could hear, which I noticed because such quiet is rare anywhere near the French Quarter. I thought about how it was time to carve a pumpkin and that I hadn't done that in years. I thought about how I wanted to dress up for Halloween, because it'd been a while since I'd really done that too. I thought about the places, the faces, the day that I'd seen, tasted, smelled and touched and I smiled, because this is my life and right now I can't imagine wanting any other.

This is not Halloween

Yesterday would have been our seventh anniversary, but instead is the first after the divorce. When we got married we had a costume ball wedding here in New Orleans on Halloween and it was really all that you could have hoped for. This year, I haven't really put together a costume. I have an outfit I wore for fetish night and a variation I wear for Noisician Coalition, but I didn't have a Halloween costume, makeup, anything to mark the occasion. They were face painting people as zombies at Voodoo fest to try and break a record, but I didn't sign up, because I just wasn't feeling it.

I was appreciative of other peoples costumes and efforts, but i didn't feel like I was really a part of that. I felt detached from Halloween, like a spectator that had stumbled upon it rather than really belonging to it.

Later in the evening I spent some time with a friend and felt a moment of connectedness, but later had to confess to myself that it may have just been me feeling the need for it, rather than it being true. I left the festival, went home and cleaned up and headed out for the night. I texted my friend asking if they would like to meet me, but she had other plans and they included people that might be awkward for her to be around both of us at the same time. I told her not to worry, that I'd find another way to occupy myself and she thanked me for being a good friend.

I ran into Ella waiting for a drink at the bar that I'd been feeling I needed to make it a point to go to, to support, because they are some of my favorite people. She was dressed in the same costume S wore the last year we celebrated together and it made me a little sad to see, but I made sure not to let that show. We had a drink with Jessica before she said goodbye (she's headed home today) and then wandered up and down Decatur stopping so she could take pictures of costumes and admire them. We met up with her friends, lost them, met them again and then they were gone. I'd like to think that we were good company for one another, both of us appreciating the holiday, but not really having anyone to share that appreciation with, so to speak. I know that I was was happy for the company. Eventually I walked her back to Flanagans where I left her to wait for friends and I went home.

The weather was nice; I was thankful for the long red coat because it was just chilly enough to need it. I looked down at my mud covered boots, the product of a day of marching in wet grass and wasn't worried about getting them cleaned knowing there was another day of mud stomping ahead. I thought of the friend that I'd spent the day with and as I looked up from my muddy boots, I saw her ahead of me. We passed one another without saying a word, because she was with the awkward situation we'd been hoping to avoid when I decided not to go to the show she'd been at and they were holding hands.

I got home and laid in bed, thinking about Halloween, how it used to mean so much to me. I thought about the day I got married and how Halloween was such the perfect choice for it. I thought of all the happy Halloweens that I'd found a costume, even if it was last minute and marked that this was the first time in my life I didn't dress up and really celebrate. I missed the past, thinking my former self incapable of having not celebrated Halloween properly and how I wouldn't have stood for it. I thought somethings changed and I hope that it wont stay this way forever.

I closed my eyes and decided that next year I'm taking back Halloween. This year I let it happen to me, but next year I'm taking it back, it'll be mine again.