I know it was requested that I rant yet again today. But ya know what? This has been a crappy week. Now its finally over; its the weekend and I want to start fresh and new. Don't you worry, though, I will be back soon enough with complaints about how poorly the whole situation in New Orleans is being handled vs. how the tsunami was handled, and how it would be more helpful to keep Dubbya at his ranch biking in the daisies with Lance Armstrong and let the relief efforts use his helicopters and planes to transport the ill and the elderly and the pregnant women and the children, and how the Netherlands is on similar-type ground as New Orleans and they are so much more prepared than we are for this type of inevitable disaster, and about how race and social status couldn't possibly be playing a part in how much aid and how quickly its getting there. And let me say, speaking of rants, that the Mayor of New Orleans is my newest idol for speaking his mind about what is needed in the city and putting it out there in plain language that even our politicians should be able to understand, or so we would think. Right, but I am not ranting about that today. Really, I am not. Let's move on, shall we?
Ah, I love Labor Day weekend! I am not a huge fan of the summer, because I don't really enjoy sweating or mosquitos. So fall is my season. And although September is really pretty summery around these parts, the godawful humidity starts to drop and the bugs start to die and we can enjoy the outdoors.
This weekend we have two bbq's, one of which we are hosting at our house. We are going to break out the blender and make the famous Jean Lafitte's Frozen Voodoo Daquiris (from the French Quarter) and I am making purple jello shots in honor of our beloved, fallen New Orleans. While we are too far away to actually go in and help, we will be keeping everyone in our thoughts and in our toasts.
Is it odd to get teary when you hear "When The Saints Go Marching In"?