lunachick

Due to unfortunate circumstances, I recently ended my relationship with the man I’d been seeing for five months’ time.

Yesterday I spent the evening catching beads with friends at the Mardi Gras parades. After parting company, my feet led me to my favorite restaurant/watering hole/”living room” space; I’ve had a crush on the owner of this establishment since just about this time last year, truth be known.

It’s a complicated situation… This man’s long-time girlfriend/business partner died unexpectedly about two years ago and he is still grieving and adapting – we all know this about him. He and I basically had the place to ourselves and after my participation in the crowded chaos, it was delightfully quiet. (It felt a little like Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks brought to life… Timeless, but in a good way.)

I’d not planned on it but, for whatever reason, my secret heart chose this moment to speak… The words slipped from my lips before I’d even consciously registered what I was saying, if that makes sense? And I was stone-cold sober (not an easy feat during this time of year ‘round here).

I simply said that he’s someone that I admire and am attracted to, without agenda or design – I just wanted to finally tell him this.

He stammered and blushed for a bit, saying that he’s still taking time for himself. I let him know that this was fine by me, that it was something I understand and support. I said that I told him about how I feel only because it had bothered me that I’d not been able to speak up about this and that I felt better for having done so – it was all I needed from this exchange. (In truth, I felt relieved – like something inside of me had been set right.)

He responded by telling me that he genuinely and definitely appreciated what I’d shared, and I could see from his smile and the look in his eyes that while he had been surprised, he was also happy about (maybe even delighted by?) what I’d told him. I know this is true because his composure had returned and it shows when he is on comfortable ground.

We talked about other things for another hour or so, listening to our favorite songs on the jukebox, singing along every now and again, and toasted one another with a “team shot.” When I left to return home for the evening, we hugged and parted company while laughing.

Even if it never goes beyond this slice of time shared, I am happy for knowing that I gave this man a St. Valentine’s Day surprise and that maybe I’d even managed to make it a better night for him than it might have been otherwise.

I know that it made me feel great (no regrets).

To date, I’ve enjoyed the French Quarter’s Krewe du Vieux parade and also Oshun, Pygmalion, Sparta and Pegasus for the big parades that roll Uptown.

Today I attended the “Krewe of Barkus” dog parade in the French Quarter.

(I might be working hard these days, but rest assured that I’m playing hard, too.)

On 01/17/09, a French Quarter resident was senselessly murdered on the block where I live in the French Quarter. While sitting on my stoop of my home that evening, watching the emergency and police response, I felt helpless. I was about two minutes away from leaving my home to go to see Sonny Landreth at the Rock ‘n’ Bowl; my car was parked within 20 feet of where Wendy was shot. It could have just as easily been me.

Later that evening, I called my best friend in Seattle (he’s also my ex-husband and a former New Orleanian). He listened to my fears and gently reminded me that I’m made of stronger stuff.

Five days later, a woman I’d never met face-to-face before and I hosted our first neighborhood Citizens Against Crime meeting. This first meeting of “just plain folks” attracted the attention of two New Orleans City Council members and the newly-elected District Attorney.

One week after that, we had our second meeting – again attended by the City Council members, the Commander of our police district and the NOPD Chief of Police. Our group of average folks is making a difference because we’re simply concerned citizens – we don’t have a charter, we don’t charge dues and we don’t hold pot-luck dinners to chat about “the crime problem.” The fact that we’re not part of the formal landscape is what seems to have caught the attention of our elected officials and police force; it has been nothing short of astonishing.

At our third meeting (yesterday), we started the process of organizing a 30 square block area into Neighborhood Watch groups. It’s an ambitious effort, but I believe that we’ll work together to make it real.

I’ve also started a Google Group that has 130 members in three weeks’ time; we use it to distribute information about meetings/events and information about general interest to give our neighbors every opportunity to get involved in improving the safety of our community.

Additionally, I have taken on reporting the damaged/unlit streetlights in the French Quarter and the Farbourg Marigny Triangle. On 01/23/09, there were 104 lights documented as needing service. On 02/11/09 I accompanied an NOPD Officer and updated the list—we’re down to 59 lights requiring repair. Tomorrow evening we’re surveying the Marigny Triangle.

I’ve also been working with Wendy’s close friends to ensure that people are in attendance at every court hearing/date to represent Wendy. She cannot speak for herself, and her family resides in California—we are working together to show the court that we are Wendy’s presence.

My next effort (after Mardi Gras has passed) will be to get light bulbs donated for distribution to homeowners and residents.

I was looking for an opportunity to connect more deeply with my community; I know that my efforts and those of my neighbors are making a difference.