oof. three late nights in a row out drinking til late. All legitimately good ideas - drinks with J, oysters one night, etc. But it meant I spent my waking hours this weekend feeling vaguely addled - either slightly drunk or slightly hungover, depending on the hour. Last night i even added cigarettes to the mix, which I rarely do, and this morning my mouth feels like an ashtray. While I feel like I *should* feel badly about the whole thing, in fact the sunrise this morning was like a benediction as I biked into work for an early meeting, and I can't muster the appropriate self-censure.

Saturday afternoon Bowie secondline was packed madness in the Quarter so we escaped to the river with the plan that we'd catch the music from there. It was oddly warm for January and everyone was out in full costumed force. The river is so high right now (14 feet! it floods at 17!). As we climbed up to the bank there was the seething Mississippi, almost up to the levees, huge tankers careening in the current (can a tanker Tokyo Drift?). The blue sky was all dappled in clouds and sunshine, and half the city wandering about in various Bowie costumes.

That was lovely of course, and the bands were fun, but my favorite moments were the spontaneous singalongs: as we walked up Toulouse toward the parade endpoint, I saw everyone dancing, and then as I got closer, a thousand people singing Starman to a stereo from the bar. Chills as I think of it.

9:38 p.m. - 2016-01-19