Friday the 13th, and the end of my first week back at school

Yesterday I unintentionally found myself driving through Lakeview. I don't know what to say--it's bad. Blocks and blocks of newish upper-middle-class suburban-style homes, every one of them gutted and abandoned. You can see the water-line marks at around the second story.

All over town, people have spray-painted messages on moldy refrigerators and abandoned buildings, from "NOPD Beat Me Down" to "Rest in Peace, Sweet Kitty." An entire block of apartments across the street from the seminary on Carrolton is burnt to the ground.

Last night there was a big house fire about two blocks from my house, with three or four fire trucks on the scene and big billows of smoke floating over the neighborhood. It seemed like it took a long time to put it out.

Today I drove by to see what was left--the back of a camelback was burnt to a crisp, but people were sitting on the stoop in front of the house.

And among this, I'm studying and going to class. But I like it. I really like law school. I love my professors. It's the being a lawyer and paying off my student loan that concerns me.

Most of my fellow students are much younger than me, and most are brand new to New Orleans. There's a group who seem to be having a great time discovering the music and club scene. They've been to see the Rebirth and the Maple Leaf and the Soul Rebels at Le Bon Temps. Part of me feels crotchety and snotty and possibly kind of bitter listening to them--oh, you think you know about New Orleans music and clubs, clueless young whippersnappers? But I'm also so happy to know all that still exists to be discovered.

I myself went out to hear the Plowboys last night. They were in fine form, and it was good to see Dave Clements smiling face and that blonde girl who goes to all their shows and dances by herself. I was going to see Ryan Scully tonight, but I got there at about a quarter to eleven and there was no sign of him, and I'm too wiped out to sit around and drink for an hour and wait for him to start. So for now it's enough to know that he's alive and well and present in New Orleans. And the full Morning 40 Federation are playing a week from tonight.

For awhile I was in a deep lonely funk (actually that's been one of the main features of my post-Katrina experience) missing my friends and Mr. M. But Mr. & Mrs K are coming over for dinner tomorrow and Mr. A has emerged from isolation, and I'm starting to make friends with a couple of my fellow students. And there's always Hank and Miss P and work, work, work.

My relationship with my parents is going through a rocky phase, but that's a story for another day...