From the Big Sleazy with Love and Turtle Soup

by chuckofish

Here I am in New Orleans for my yearly spa vacation, a.k.a the SMH Annual Conference. I’m having a wonderful and intellectually stimulating time (no kidding) and what’s more getting here actually went smoothly despite starting out at 6am in the snow and dark. By the time I got to the Champlain ferry it was merely a pretty, but cold and gray morning.

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After shockingly pleasant interludes at airports (including JFK!) and on planes, I arrived in New Orleans, where the temperature is in the mid to upper 60s (perfect!) and if one sticks to the main drags (e.g. the three blocks of Canal street by the hotel and a couple of blocks of Bourbon) it seems reasonably charming. My hotel room is comfortably standard in every respect except this window, which looks deceptively normal with the shutters closed

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but has a disconcertingly vertiginous view when the shutters are open.

Don't Look Down!

Don’t Look Down!

Did I mention that my room is on the 45 floor?

Yesterday, with my 8am talk out of the way (it went well), I was free to enjoy myself at other sessions and with friends. For lunch I was adventurous and had turtle soup, which was delicately spicy and quite delicious,

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at a lovely restaurant

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in good company

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After a gin and tonic fueled “meet and give advice to aspiring graduate students” reception last night, I had an early morning — 7am — meeting today so I’m tired and plan on attending conference sessions and napping (but not at the same time) until the banquet tonight. Then it’s up at the crack of dawn to start the long, grueling trip home. Keep your fingers crossed that all goes well!

P.S Mid-morning update: I ventured out in search of a diet coke that doesn’t cost $4. and I have to admit I’m horrified at how alcoholic this city is. You can buy booze anywhere and people drink all the time. I’m no teetotaler but it seems that people only come here for excess. It was only 10am and the number of people I saw in outrageous St. Patrick’s day garb heading into or out of bars was, quite frankly, disgusting. I think I’ll stick to the hotel!