Yesterday started nine days of vacation from work for me. I have no great plans. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just going to not work. I'm going to read. I'm going to simply enjoy life. Enjoy New Orleans. Enjoy my favorite season of the year. Hopefully convince someone to find time to have coffee one day...

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon hanging out in the city with my store manager, Denise, and a visiting friend of hers. Twas nice and low key mostly. We had lunch at Lucy's (Retired Surfers Bar) and then went to the Quarter to wander about.

Ran through Jackson Square and said hi to Tanner who seemed to be doing booming business with his unreal tattoos. Apologized to him about never getting back to him about planning a going away party for our mutual ex-boyfriend, who has decided to quit his well paying job and join the Peace Corps. (He'll be machetted to death...)

Went by Fifi's to say hi to Flynn & company and for the chicks to shop a bit. Then we ran through a few small shops.

The next stop was the courtyard at Napoleon House for drinks. We sat in dappled light and rambled on over a couple of cocktails for a bit, soaking in the pre-holiday vibe that was around us. Twas nice.

After Napoleon House, the chicks wanted a daiquiri, so we went up Bourbon to New Orleans Daiquiris. It was Circuit Queen central. Ugh ugh ugh. I actually had to leave the place while the girls ordered their drinks. I cannot stand over-pumped, over-shaved, super short haired clone boys. Why the fuck would anyone wanna look just like all of their supposed friends and 3000 other cookie cutter queens? I don't get it. And when I'm surrounded by it, I start to drown in the mediocrity of it all.

The curse of Halloween in New Orleans, I suppose...

Anyways, after the daiquiri stop, we had to run down to The Old Absinthe Shop to meet a friend of Denise's friend. Ugh ugh ugh again. Shortly thereafter, we went home.

Walking onto my stoop, I found a nice surprise. Last Sunday nite, only 4 days earlier, I had ordered a couple of books from Amazon UK that aren't due to be published here in the states until next year. Fallen Dragon by Peter F. Hamilton is the one I was really jonesing for. It came out a couple weeks ago in the UK, but isn't due in the US until next April. The wait was unthinkable. Hamilton writes great space opera. I never really liked this types of stories until him. But, his books fill my head with all sorts of ideas. And I buzz around happy for days after finishing one.

The other book is a compilation of British SF writers, called Futures. It also has a Hamilton story in it as well as a Stephen Baxter story, another of my faves.

Regardless, it was a huge shock to me that these books made it to me from the UK in less than five days transit. That's pretty damned impressive.

So, I grabbed Fallen Dragon and took it to Cafe Roma with me for a dinner of a roasted eggplant po-boy and white wine. I read the first couple of chapters sitting at a nice breezy, open to the street, corner table.

I was barely home and cleaned up before Lance called, a bit earlier than I expected. Grrrr... he, his roommate and roomie's boyfriend were going for cocktails and dinner. I go despite having eaten.

We drive around forever before finding a parking space in the Quarter. But, finally we do. Then it's to the Bombay Club for incredibly overpriced cocktails. I have a Stoli Cosmopolitan. That's about the gayest drink I drink on a regular basis.

Then we go to Irene's for dinner. I've never been to Irene's. It's a pleasant surprise. Unfortunately, I'm stuffed to the gills already. The course of the evening is mostly nice, but I feel a bit on the sidelines during most of the conversation. It's hard to stay a part of a conversation when it mainly consists of tales of past adventures of close friends. I do manage to eat half a bowl of shrimp and corn bisque which was quite pleasant.

The evening ended relatively early for Lance and I since he worked today. But, we've mutually decided to skip tonight's big event since neither of us have costumes ready. I think we're gonna do pizza and a movie before we go to the bars. Perhaps I'll test him with Suspiria... Tis the season.