Another Mardi Gras spent in a city where no one appreciates the fine holiday. No king cake, no go home early so you can go to a ball, no laissez les bons temps rouler comments, not even a come into work the next day hungover with blurry images of bared breasts etched into my memory from the night before. Come in to work today, and not even a single black ashen crossed forehead or hungover bleary-eye in the entire work krewe - no sinners OR saints. No joie de vivre at all, in fact.
After pouting about missing out on the best holiday ever (followed closely by Halloween), I realized that the worst part of it is that I married into an acadian family with roots in Abbeville LA. I am the one that should that should be introducing the yankees that surround me to this glorious celebration. This is all my fault! I am to blame for their boring lives the past couple of weeks! I have met the enemy, and he is us.
It's actually very depressing, and I'm planning to spend most of Friday at this fine establishment where I can drown my sorrows: