The following events occurred between february 18 and
may 17th of 2008. i have summoned the few living brain
cells i have left to piece together the fragmented
memories from this time. stories are always best when
the details are hazy, it's a sign that an adventure
has occurred.
shrimp boil: j has big plans for two red fish
involving cedar and some awesome berry sauce shipped
in from oregon (thanks ariana). we make a few trips to
the grocery store and buy enough girl scout cookies to
pay for four years of sorority pillow fights for the
entire troupe. back at the house, screwdrivers and
scotch, beer and tom waits playing. amanda fills a 10
gallon pot with shrimp and potatoes and corn she's
broken with her bare hands. j learns how fast cedar
catches on fire and he and i scar ourselves with grill
burns in an attempt to save the fish from the flames.
we watched the sun set from the roof top before
venturing to the old point where amanda found a new
way to hold on to her beer. j begins questioning the
girls about their vagina hair cut of choice as amanda
proudly announces her landing strip is an altieri fav.
bevin and i throw her down on the table like an altar
boy and begin to explore her limits. conclusion:
amanda has no limits.
st. pattys day parade: it started with a man in a
bishop's costume being escorted off the premises by
the paramedics. we cheered, he waved, we resumed the
practice of catching cheap beads and produce. adam
caught a box of lucky charms. a potato belts me in the
stomach as i'm doing an irish car bomb. somewhere
along the way i had plans to catch a plane. the events
that lead up to me sitting at coop's place telling an
artist i would buy all of her work as i threw down
three vodka tonics in an hour are as always, hazy at
best.
i woke up on a couch in front of a pair of strangers
doing lines off a vanity mirror. it was told to me
that there was a note left on my stomach while i was
passed out in order to ease the process of identifying
my body in case the question arose. the night ended at
5am where using my luggage as a coaster for my adult
milkshake proved problematic when the luggage tipped
and showered the airport sidewalk with what was meant
to be my breakfast.
pirate parade: there were pirates, a magician and a
shitty bar with shitty margaritas. i think that's the
night j, amanda and i did the seafood buffet. i know
that we came home to bevin and steve asleep on the
couch, steve's hand cupped onto bevin's right boob
like a power cord trying to recharge a battery. so we
did what
any good friend would do in a fortuitous situation
such as this, we stuck our genitals in their faces and
took pictures. one can not let a chance like this go
by without photographic evidence.
jazz fest week 1: two words-mushroom chocolates. we
biked down esplanade and picked up a stray named becca
along the way. we did our shots, ate our chocolate and
laughed at the 50 dollar
case of miller lite that would fuel our fancies for
the day. then
the rain. the rain flipped the magic switch connected
to the chocolates and the world became a five hour
comedy routine. amanda put her goggles on, we laughed.
the beer case started to fall apart, we laughed. a
woman cut in front me in the port-a-let line, i threw
an empty beer can at her when she came out and we
laughed.
there was music but it all seemed to be on mute so we
threw in the towel and left. back on the bikes,
yelling the entire way through the storm. up
esplanade, every so often you could hear
"daydrinkers!" called out through the pounding rain
and it
would echo and vibrate throughout the city. we stopped
at buffa's not bothering to tie up the bikes and
soaked their floors just by standing there. then off
to monaghan's, the safe house. we chucked our shirts
onto the bar, we pleaded with a cab to drive us
through the flooded streets of algiers, we napped. the
benevento russo duo in a room that barely held 50
people put me in a trance. then j 86'd me. becca later
resurfaced on frenchman, i caught a glimpse of her
between the elongated legs of the stilt walkers of the
march fourth marching band. the undeniable odor that
wafted through the streets had obviously been
accumulated en route from portland where showers are
as common place as a movie background artist with an
accute sense of dignity. damn hippies.
jazz fest weekend 2: we meet up at ryan's and start
the chocolates early. we get in and are immediately
separated. still, through some mysterious cosmic
wiring
both j and renee find two separate spots only 20 yards
away from each other. the family reunites. the lull
between the acts seemed to bring us down, i remember
laying on the blanket with my hat on my face as i
smiled at the man that lived in it. fuck those
chocolates are amazing. then the radiators. karen
soaked up the sun in her lobster claw sunglasses,
there was a man dancing with a fly swatter like he was
battling a swarm of bats, somebody found balloons. i
met the travel coordinator from ry's show in the beer
line and i bitched her out for keeping us apart.
if there is any memory that i will carry with me about
this trip it will be this scene: a tattooed sleeveless
shirted aaron neville singing over us on a big screen,
the sun setting behind a line of port-a-potties and
all the unfortunate souls waiting to visit them, steve
lounging in the broken chair we
rescued from the gentilly stage, karen bevin amanda
renee laughing about something only they could
understand, j staring off into the distance his
sunglasses doing little to hide the gleam in his eye.
i believe this is bliss.
--the true daydrinker knows that you can never leave
new orleans without leaving a part of your soul. it
flows through your veins like a hit of high octane
heroin and as you stare down the barrel of your last
monaghan's beer you've already planned how to get your
next fix. that's my story but mine is only one
amongst the masses. life is an elixir served best with
a fleur de lis drawn into its head, a broken condom
wrapped around amanda's neck like a spermicide choker,
a pile of wet t-shirts discarded by a group of
psychedelic drunkards laughing at the rain. i
challenge you to show me who lives better than we--
Lillian - LA/OC/Hawaii Chapter DDS
