I'm in a constant struggle to find balance, literally and figuratively. I write this at 3:30 in the morning, listening to Hole, as I try to figure out what to write about, after trying to figure out whether to sleep or get up, after trying to figure out whether to spend my now waking hours working on the movie job I'm on, or working out physically, or writing.
I obviously chose the latter, only to be confronted with a plethora of what to write about which I narrowed down to our last weekend.
I thought that I had done a good job not biting off more than I could chew, until I started to recall our weekend.
I had little on my agenda, sort of. There was NOLA Pirate week, which was kicking off on Friday night. I wanted to check out the Westwego Fish Market, which I read about in a magazine and after having been there twice now, I still don't know if it is the Westwego Fish Market.
And lastly I was looking forward to watching the Game of Thrones premiere.
And that was it.
But it wasn't. It was all that and so much more. The story of my life, for better and for worse.
Years ago when I was out west, as in Venice, California I met one of the Walton heirs at a party, but that was a long time ago and a very different story.
The address that showed up on my Iphone for Westwego Seafood was not where we ended up, but somehow we found the place we were looking for.
Lots of fresh seafood, cool pics I didn't take, great joint but the timing wasn't right.
We ended up scarfing down a bunch of fried stuff that we regretted later for a variety of reasons and not buying any of the many amazing offerings.
But it is a great spot and we will take advantage of it, and knowing where it is, in the future.
I read these words in my youth many years ago.
They were written many years before that.
They seem to apply more and more as I wander through my life.
We happened upon the Sydney and Walda Besthoff
Sculpture Garden at NOMA (New Orleans Museum of Art) after searching successfully, in a matter of speaking, for the Grow Dat Youth Farm.
A really incredible gem that we just happened upon in our wanderings.
We had been to Maurepas Foods on our last tour through NOLA and it was delicious then and it was again.
The difference was last time we went at off hours when we weren't starving.
This time around we showed up famished on a busy night.
Sometimes those who wander aren't los,t just really hungry.
It's already 4:30 in the morning. today I will be starting work at 7:30, finishing up some 12 hours later, Skypeing with our tax adviser in the evening with what will be one of our more obscure financial tax years in a lifetime of obscure financial tax years, followed with a family TV night of Survivor,(we've been fans from the beginning, I've sent in an audition tape and showed up for a cattle call audition in Studio City where I got stage fright and bombed...)
And I've just scratched the surface of our Easter weekend.
More on Maurepas Foods, pirates, running into friends from afar, impromptu dinner parties run amok, Easter Egg hunts and much more