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5-30-2010
Ms D.....Where the hell ya been??
Did ya fall in a hole or somethin'?
I know I know! Mistress has been neglecting the ol' journal. So....what you're going to get here is an accounting of what I have been up to that has precluded Me from keeping up the updates.
FIRST... NAWLINS!
As I told you in the last journal, My slave d and I decided to forgo O/our annual trip to San Francisco this year for a trip to New Orleans. I have been about four times, the first when I was about five years old. I found it a magical place back then and I haven't lost much of that enthusiasm for it over the years. Having spent a lot of My youth taking those long family driving trips down to Florida through the deep south, that region has always held a great nostalgic appeal for Me. I have fallen in love with places like Charleston and Savannah over the years, but no southern city has the unique spirit and quality of good ol New Orleans. Arguments can be made that Charleston is cleaner and more refined, or that Savannah with its unique public squares on every block and it's moss laden cypess trees make it the penultimate southern city. But Nawlins, with its music, cuisine, incredibly friendly people and inimitable mix of unique neighborhoods give it a very special place in the hierarchy.
This March's trip got off to a bit of a rocky start. For once, I was due to arrive a full three hours ahead of My slave. This would give Me the opportunity to get in , settled, unpack and get all prettied up in time for his arrival. Fitting as he had never visited here and I was to serve as expert and guide. Well....so much for that great plan. W/we had selected the French Market Inn right in the French Quarter for its wonderful location near Jackson Square, the heart of the Quarter, basically everything on My agenda.
Well, I bounce in to the reception desk at around 11:45 and am told that My room won't be ready until at least 3 pm. Ugh.....three hours to kill. I start with lunch at Napoleon's, My fave little place for a drink and bite. It has a patina about it....beautifully worn and shabby. The waiters are in tux shirts and pants, and the air is filled with classical music. Its a great place to sip a Pim's Cup and down a muffaletta, a sandwich unique to New Orleans. Really brings back all those previous trips.
Then I walk My legs off for the next few hours mapping out possible dining and clubbing options all over the quarter, madly making notes on My little guide map for anything that might prove fun and interesting. I have a rather tense exchange with a vendor on the walks of Jackson Square who theorizes Kentucky is a 'dirty team with a dirty coach'. (Its March Madness time and there are some regional games being played here near the Superdome. Why anyone would decide to start insulting the team of a potential customer is anyone's guess.
Well a little more time waiting and watching the ships come into the dock at the RiverWalk and I head back to the Inn to try to check in. They put Me off for another half hour. d is due in at any moment and I haven't even gotten into the room yet. Finally after one more walk around the block they have a room ready. I walk in and am....well...UNDERWHELMED!! Dark, NO windows. One big room with high ceilings, a bed, tiny table with a lamp, a nightstand....and thats IT! No desk, no dresser, no drawers to put clothes away. And I brought a LOT of clothes. It looked like the kind of room someone goes to to blow their brains out. The best way I can describe it. I call down to the front desk and voice My disappointment and am told its the only Standard King available in the hotel. WELL....W/we were supposed to have a Superior King, but bookit.com apparently had the reservation coded wrong. Well that set up a big pissing match with slave d when he arrived. he wants only the best for Me and gets very pissy when things don't go well. So there was a lot of venom being spewed down in the lobby while I sat alone in the 'room of death', unable to do anything.
All the complaining did some good. They moved us to a room with two big windows on the front of the hotel, right on Decatur Street looking out at The River Walk and the ships coming in and out. Very nice, but small....and still no dresser. I arrive and d is in a state....sitting on hold with the booking agency being very nasty with them and building 'the mood'. I hole up in the bathroom and start prettying up. he had not been in the room of death and probably thought it odd that I seemed so happy with this new room. At any rate, I finally emerge in a couple of hours and slave is still in a poopy mood. Well I have anticipated this trip for a long time and am not going to piss it all away over this. Thank goodness he comes around finally and after a big hug or two, W/we are off to find a spot for a late meal. Napoleons has just closed so we eat at Cafe Maspero across the street. Forgettable, but its just nice to sit and slam some so so cajun cuisine and enjoy a glass of vino.
W/we walk around the quarter and take in the sights. If you have never been to New Orleans, there is a lot more to it than Bourbon Street. Truth be told, Bourbon is about My least favorite spot there. Get away from all the yard long dacquiris and loud strip joints and drunken revelers and you will find yourself on a quiet, brick street spookily lit with gas lamps that looks like it could be out of some ghost story. The lacey wrought iron balconies and mix of unique but somewhat ill kept buildings has a unique charm unlike anyplace else I have visited. This is the part I love. Finally, W/we end the night pounding chickory laced coffee and sinfully decadent beignets (hot little pillows of dough drenched in powdered sugar) at Cafe Du Monde right in front of Jackson Square. Its an institution....open 24 hours...and busy 24 hours. We sit next to a table full of really drunk twentysomething girls. They are laughing hysterically…..I am thinking a LOT of weed was done and they got the beignet monkey going. They were also laughing at our waiter, who was like a middle aged version of the Potzi Weber character in Happy Days, only with a lower watt bulb upstairs. But he was perfect for that place. Loved his job and made it fun.
This was My first time in N.O. as Divinyl. I was not sure how I would be accepted, but on this night...no problems.
The next day W/we do more exploring of the quarter. We make a really bad choice for lunch at The Bourbon House. A huge and new place run by the renowned Brennan family. Well it stunk. d ordered a reuben for $14 that came with three slices of corned beef, a smidge of kraut and no cheese, no dressing. When W/we complained, they brought a plate with a cold piece of cheese on it. My crawfish pasta was tasteless. I asked for some parmesan, which at least gave it some flavor. To top this off, d leaves the new camera on the table, discovers that about two blocks away, but when he goes back to retrieve it.....its gone. Its still gone. I hope whatever bottom dwelling s__thead has it comes down with the most debilitating form of cancer there is. We fill out the afternoon by catching the St Charles Streetcar that goes through the beautiful residential area konwn as The Garden District. Typically I get out and walk the streets and take in the magnificent homes, but the cars are soooo crowded and packed to standing room only that W/we are afraid to get off for fear every car that would come by would be full and Wwe would be stranded. So the experience was much less than usual and I am disappointed d could not have fallen in love with this unique area like I have.
Now things start to tick up. First...Kentucky slam dunks their tournament opponent that night. Suhhhh-weeeeet! And W/we pick a restaurant named Muriel's in Jackson Square for dinner. I slither into a very tight and shiny silver 'bandage' skirt and black top, hose and heels and all 6'7 of Me traipses out onto Decauter for the walk to the restaurant. Plenty of stares, but most of the admiring variety. We stop and chat with some of the vendors and fortune tellers around the plaza. I swear, its so easy to talk to people here. Everyone is so open and friendly.
Muriel's in a word is sublime. Fantastic food, impeccable service (thank you Federico!), wonderful candlelit atmosphere. Wwe could not have been happier and would visit again two more times during the trip. W/we press the old camera into service and take lots of great shots on the street on the walk back to the Inn and stop at lots of art galleries along Royal Street as we go, finishing up with some shots in the Inn's interior courtyard.
On O/our return trip to Muriel's for a late afternoon drink the next day, the staff tells U/us to be sure to check out the upstairs. I thought it was just a simple corridor that looked down on the bar and dining room, but was I surprised. First, you wander through a door and into a dimly lit, stone walled chamber with eery ogran music and hymns playing in the background. In a corner is a table, set impeccably for dinner, candlelit and with a bottle of wine open and a glass. It all comes back to me when I see this. They set this for the resident ghost...every evening! Very cool. Upstairs are a series of private function rooms, all elaborately decorated in what I call 'high whorehouse' decor. The most interesting room is the Seance Room, ostensibly used to communicate with the aforementioned spirit. Very cool and very kitschy. We just have to take a bunch of pics up there.
That night, after watching Kentucky ravage Wake Forest in the tournament, I change into a sequin bustier and leopard leggings and knee boots and we head down to the gay clubs at the end of Bourbon Street. They were fine and fun...nothing to get too excited about. We take a break to eat at a greasy spoon adjacent to one of the clubs and were just glad someplace was open serving food that time of night. Funny story....at the first club W/we went to, there was this bald and VERY HAIRY male go go dancer who kept getting up on the bar and dancing directly over us...and OUR DRINKS. he was about the least sexy thing I had ever seen and I kept waiting for errant hairs to land in My cosmo!! ugh.
We wind up the evening at ....where else....Cafe Du Monde. ‘Potzi’ comes over and asks if I was in there the night before? I guess I made an impression!
Sunday W/we go back to ...where else...Muriel's for their Jazz Brunch and not surprisingly....were NOT disappointed. Shrimp and grits, eggs benedict, milk punch laced with rum. And our waiter brought us coffee and dessert on the house. He said...."They said you two have been here like three times in a row..so this is on us." Very nice. Can't wait to go back. We spend the rest of the afternoon wandering through the art galleries on Royal Street.
So much fun. The artists all chat Me up and explain their backgrounds and art. Since I am an artist as well I can hold My own in the conversations. d just stands and grins and can't get over watching me interact with all these folks. But thats New Orleans. Its the Big Easy and its EASY to make friends. W/we stop at a little bar next to our hotel called Marie Laveau's, named after the famous Voodoo Queen of New Orleans and burn the free drink tickets we got from the hotel. We wind up back at this little four table place later that evening before dinner and again....make friends with a middle aged woman there with her daughter and son in law. They start asking questions and before long I drop the bomb on them that I am a Professional Dominatrix. Well the daughter is just so excited....she has never met one and is just so juiced. But the son in law has to try to explain what it is to the mother...who has NO clue. Very much fun.
I just love this place. If you have never been....you simply must put a trip here on your bucket list. And add Muriel's on there while you're at it!
NEXT…DIVA WILDSIDE LAS VEGAS!!!
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