New Orleans

The air was moist and the temperature soaring.  I leaned back in the back seat of the taxi an inhaled deeply.  I felt at home.

Growing up, I only ever expected to live in one city - New Orleans.  I never dreamed that I would live somewhere else.

It had been nine long years since I had visited the Crescent City.  Post Katrina I wasn't sure what to expect.

The taxi bumped along the elevated highways and pitted streets.  The steeple of St. Louis appeared and then the cab descended into the city, past the Super Dome, through the CBD and finally arriving at Canal.

The city looked clean, for New Orleans.  It was crowded.  The hotel was packed.  I took my bag and met Lori in the courtyard.

The heat was delicious, perfect for quaffing Mint Juleps, which I did.  The geckos scaled the walls behind us as Lori and I caught up on each other's lives.  It was Girls Weekend in New Orleans.

Of course, Girls Weekend is always fun but I was especially looking forward to this one.  A weekend in my favorite city without children.  The beignets, the cafe au lait, shrimp remoulade, Pimm's Cups and pralines.... I love the tattered elegance and grit of the city.  The graceful porches and Jefferson windows, the gutter spouts shaped like fish, the magnolias and live oaks.  I love the edgy rawness of the Warehouse District, populated with new condominiums and restaurants.  We took the street car out St. Charles and rode past Gran's childhood home in the Garden District.  We ate at Antoines and drank at Napoleon House.

Lori and Susan and I dined with my dad who has been living in New Orleans working for FEMA for a year now.  Then we had breakfast at Brennan's with my aunt and uncle.  It was a family affair for me and also time with my girls.

It was wonderful.

At 39, I wonder now if I will ever be able to call New Orleans home but perhaps it is enough to say that it feels like a homecoming whenever I visit.