Laissez les bon temps rouler!

The lightning is pretty standard here, though maybe perceived as brighter because of the shock you know is coming. Tremendous, sharp thunderclaps followed by a rumble that stampedes over the city till it passes through you and you feel the power of the storm in your knees. The rain is the real difference though; completely soaking, each drop containing enough water to drench you on its own (or so it seems). If you get caught without an umbrella, there's no hope. Of course, an umbrella offers little more than a semblance of protection, because the angle of the rain always sends it cascading upwards in defiance of God and gravity. My theory is that the rain here is somehow wetter than other rains. I'm pretty sure that 10 seconds in my bathroom shower would leave me less soaked than ten seconds in a New Orleans thundershower.

We're proud of our storms though, the way you're proud of the hottest temperatures or heaviest snowstorms in whatever city you call home. New Orleanians are fanatics about their city, even to a degree that impresses me, a native Texan (the state that has perfected geographical egotism). It's a little different here, though; there's also a degree of pride in what the city has endured--akin to the pride in which a soldier wears a battle wound. It's an interesting mix of festivity and fierceness. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die." That's half of the attitude in a city living below sea level between a massive river and the ocean (it's crazy! every time I think of it...it's just crazy that we live here!), but the other half of the attitude is, "Restore, Rebuild, Recover." Somewhere between the fatalism and the future, that's where we live.

I've never experienced such a unique place, and there are so many moments I want to share with you. A Picasso doppelganger in pinstriped pants, a carefully buttoned blazer, and clean black Converses strolling down the street past my window seat in a smoky jazz club. The middle-aged man in a motorcycle jacket and a purple tie-dye dress whom I met in the aisle of the local grocery. The beautiful woman sitting across from me at the bar in a red dress (so tight it looks painted on) who turns her head to reveal a pronounced Adam's apple. I'm surrounded by the most interesting collection of people I've ever seen. The city is no less surprising and colorful. I can't wait to tell you about it.