It's been awhile. As certain members of my audience have remarked (you know who you are), it has been far too long since an entry has been presented for discussion. Or, rather, as one might say in the parlance of our times, I have been slacking. And it does indeed feel good to fire up the CPU, dust off the ol' flatscreen, and haul the keyboard out from under the bed. I feel that I have been removed from all three (or was it two) of you in that way that only time has of making the past seem so long ago and the present seem so close at hand, and the future...stretching into infinity is my best guess. Ah, but where was I?
In the time that has past since my last post, which, upon reading my latest entry I am saddened to realize was at the end of Mardi Gras (February! Egads!), much, as they say, has happened. Well, for starters, the camera is still doing fine, in fact has taken some truly ecstatic photos recently in a jaunt that may yet boldly splash across the web log that you, dear reader, do so covet. This being the latest correspondence heard, I know you are all fiercely vying for such information (please forgive this latest style of mine, I have only just finished re-reading A Confederacy of Dunces, which, given our times here in south Louisiana, is an especially apt title).
However, of perhaps greater import, it must be remarked upon that Lisa and I have taken a bold step in the direction of middle America, a mighty trespass upon true bourgeoisity, yea even a leap into the class of the counter-revolutionary - that's right, we bought us a house. It has been a great experience, and one that has clearly consumed my writing energies. We are excited and scared by the prospects, and things are working out quite well - we've even become proper residents of south Louisiana, knowing as we now do how to tarp our roof. That's right, not even 5 months old and the roof is no good - we're lucky that plastic is quite a waterproof material. But have no fear, readers, repairs are in the works.
Lisa has finished her first year at Tulane, making Dean's List both semesters and got herself accepted into the Honors College. She just made it back from Peru (Machu Pichu and shamans and all) just in time to make it up to Jacob's Pillow and NYC. She's enjoying the summer off from school and having fun focusing on dance and on our upcoming commitment ceremony (wedding just sounds so...very. So very very, in fact.).
On that note, allow me to close with an announcement that the ceremony will be held June 21, 2008, time and place TBA. I know what you're thinking - Mercury will no longer be in retrograde, the summer solstice will be upon us and could there be a better time to commit to each other? Well, we were thinking the same thing. See yall there!
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Friday, February 23, 2007
Camera Found!
Well friends, not all is lost - namely, my camera. There were dark days, specifically Wednesday and most of Thursday, when it appeared all hope had vanished from the earth. And then there was much rejoicing, when hope returned and shone like a million flashes at once. Indeed, my camera had not joined the land of the departed, but had sequestered itself in parts unreachable, especially by those searchers attempting to throw off the mighty weight of post-Mardi Gras recovery. Time does heal all, though, and a second, perhaps more thorough, definitely more sober, search revealed the object of desire.
Mardi Gras photos to follow.
celebrating,
Noel
Mardi Gras photos to follow.
celebrating,
Noel
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Happy Mardi Gras
Well, I survived. Mardi Gras, it comes and goes so quickly. All of a sudden, Fat Tuesday is looking more and more like Ash Wednesday, and you're still trying to get back to Monday when the anticipation of Tuesday is as close to Christmas Eve as it can be for an adult without children. But in the thick of things, there is nothing like this party. The whole city just shuts down, and everyone is on the street, trying to catch stuff thrown from floats, eating and drinking, and generally making merry.
There is much to share from the weekend, friends, and I had hoped to leave some photographic images with you, but alas my camera is no more. Too much fun in the French Quarter on Mardi Gras was the culprit, and now the beautiful baby is gone. It was a trusty steed, and it is now gone, taking its memories with it. Another shall take its place, but not without a tinge of sadness for the good work done in the past.
We had the good luck to team up with some friends who had a group theme - we were Eddie Jordan and the DA's (check up on New Orleans' District Attorney Eddie Jordan and the not-so-stellar job he's been doing lately - 162 murder arrests, 1 conviction). We had Eddie Jordan, we had a couple convicts in orange jump suits, we had the Assistant DA - the ADA with ADD, there was Blind Lady Justice (with scales and sword!), Missy Misdemeanor Murder showed up (60 days in the pen without being charged and out you go!), and yours truly, a Crime Lab Technician (in search of a crime lab). The scene was completed with a scale model of Orleans Parish Courthouse, with actual working revolving doors - the Revolving Doors of Justice, as it were. Add in all the vodka cranberry one can drink, and various other social lubricants and condiments, and you have a mobile party letting the good times roll. And roll they did...
Happy Mardi Gras
Noel
There is much to share from the weekend, friends, and I had hoped to leave some photographic images with you, but alas my camera is no more. Too much fun in the French Quarter on Mardi Gras was the culprit, and now the beautiful baby is gone. It was a trusty steed, and it is now gone, taking its memories with it. Another shall take its place, but not without a tinge of sadness for the good work done in the past.
We had the good luck to team up with some friends who had a group theme - we were Eddie Jordan and the DA's (check up on New Orleans' District Attorney Eddie Jordan and the not-so-stellar job he's been doing lately - 162 murder arrests, 1 conviction). We had Eddie Jordan, we had a couple convicts in orange jump suits, we had the Assistant DA - the ADA with ADD, there was Blind Lady Justice (with scales and sword!), Missy Misdemeanor Murder showed up (60 days in the pen without being charged and out you go!), and yours truly, a Crime Lab Technician (in search of a crime lab). The scene was completed with a scale model of Orleans Parish Courthouse, with actual working revolving doors - the Revolving Doors of Justice, as it were. Add in all the vodka cranberry one can drink, and various other social lubricants and condiments, and you have a mobile party letting the good times roll. And roll they did...
Happy Mardi Gras
Noel
Saturday, January 20, 2007
My New New Orleans Phone Number
I have made another stride towards becoming a local here in the Crescent City: a 504 phone number. My old number no longer applies, so please contact me at:
504.258.4638
bon soir,
Noel
504.258.4638
bon soir,
Noel
I'd Like To Introduce My Fiancee
It is a joyous time here at the Keskitalo-HJ residence. We had a marvelous time over the holidays, seeing friends and family in North and South Carolinas. We also received word of the birth of Lisa's newest nephew, Max Ethan, increasing the joy of the Florida family immensely. And, in the midst of it all, we became engaged.
2006 was a monster year for us, with change on all sides, and we capped it off with a commitment to each other that has bred a new level of trust and excitement. As I sit in the middle of January in the damp chill of New Orleans, it is with a certain awareness that last year I was in the dry frigidity of Chicago, and I cannot help but to compare the relative merits of temperate climate (which New Orleans has) and insulation (which New Orleans does not). This debate notwithstanding, last January marked the beginning of a transformative year for Lisa and me, as Lisa set off on a month-long quest of discovery of self and dance in Europe. What she found, in the end, was that the journey was what she was after, and that the opportunities that availed themselves were less than the magic that she sought, and could not fully assuage the comforts of home. When I joined her in Sweden in February (Valentine's Day, as fate would have it), it was with great joy and happiness that we were reunited, the warmth of which allowed us to persevere Scandanavia in the depths of winter (I can see that it must be very beautiful indeed in the summer.). Our travel to Finland was the high point of the trip, as we were rewarded by the friendliness of the Finns and shown a great time.
Back in Chicago, we reflected on our trip, and on Lisa's journey, and I led a volunteer trip of grad students to New Orleans to assist in the recovery. Though I did not realize it at the time, this was a trip of monumental portent, one of those events that changes the course of at least a few lives. After seeing the city in its misery and its aging beauty, in its inevitable and inherent contradictions, I knew what I must do to find the purpose I was looking for in my work. Upon my return to Chicago, Lisa saw the same in my eyes, and after a few days of decision and indecision, we decided to see what we both could do to make a home in the Crescent City.
While I worked and finished grad school, I scrounged enough contacts to put together a reasonable job search and traveled to New Orleans in June in search of job and house. In the meantime, Lisa had applied to and been accepted at Tulane University - so it was on me to find a means of employment. That came about in the course of my interviews, as I was directed to my current place of work by word of mouth - and it turned out to be the best place of employment I could have found. The company is a two-person (myself and the President) development company, started after Hurricane Katrina by the President, Kathy Laborde, and some national funders (including Fannie Mae and Credit Suisse, among others). Given my interests and experience, I couldn't have asked for a better place to land. And we found an apartment that weekend also, as Lisa joined me Saturday and we signed a lease on Sunday. Thankfully, not all of our weekends are so full of excitement. I'm not sure I could deal with finding a new job and a new house every 7 days.
With these big items on our move-to-New-Orleans to-do list crossed off, we focused on packing up the Chicago apartment, on finishing my master's program and delivering a speech at graduation, on seeing our friends, and on contemplating the future. And it was here soon enough, as we embarked on our journey in late July (3 years to the day since Lisa and I had first met), arriving in New Orleans August 1. Now, as much as Scandanvia in winter is the wrong place at the wrong time to thoroughly enjoy one's surroundings, so is New Orleans in August, and it only got hotter from there. But we persevered through the mind-altering heat-and-humidity cocktail, and gradually accustomed ourselves to the overwhelming destruction all around us, and began to look for, and find, signs of rebirth and renewal and courage. Lisa started school, and tackled it with the ferocity of a professional athlete, and I started work, and was invigorated by the tremendous sense of purpose I found in contributing to the recovery of this great American city.
In the midst of all this, my good friend Geoff and I purchased season tickets to the New Orleans Saints of the National Football League - for the record, the worst professional sports franchise in the history of the country - at the ridiculously low price of $250. For the entire season. Folks, I have never been a big football fan, but if you have read from past entries the excitement and the spirit and the overwhelming love of Gulf South fans for their Saints, then you can only imagine that this was one of the best purchases, nay investments, of perhaps my life to date. Excepting, of course, for Lisa's engagement ring (photo forthcoming). In any case, the Saints' magical season thus far is truly a part of the rebirth of New Orleans and the Gulf South, and I shall hurl much spite and vindictive against anyone who dares to say otherwise. The essential piece of this puzzle is that the Saints players know that they are playing more than football, they are playing a game of survival, as they provide so many thousands of people with a necessary diversion from the mind-numbing despair that is on all sides here, and they are really a lifeline to a bygone era of normality that everyone is nostalgic for yet no one can reach, not even those whose homes were not flooded. So the Saints carry the region forward, through the best season in the history of the franchise, and the people carry themselves forward, out of necessity, because the various levels of government surely aren't. And Lisa and I settled into a new life in New Orleans, and are becoming acquainted with its intricacies and oddities, its vernacular (neutral ground, time-saver, King Cake, 12th Night, go cups, the re-election of William Jefferson, and much more).
By the end of the semester, Lisa smoked everyone at Tulane and finished with a 3.9 GPA, and I set aside my duties as Project Manager of 4 projects to do some much-needed holiday travel and relaxation. So it was that we visited my family and hers in the Carolinas, and so it was that we became engaged at the end of the year, at my parents' house on 912 Shepherd Street in Durham, NC ("the relatively bland environs of", according to the New Orleans Times-Picayune - ask me about that some other time). Looking around us, and knowing that we had made the transition to perhaps the most inconvenient city in the country in amazingly good, though at times rocky, shape, we knew that it was time to commit to each other and to hold each other's happiness and well-being as our own highest priorities.
And so here we are, with a new year and new semester upon us, with much reason to believe that this year is a year of destiny, and that this life, which starts anew through the commitment we have made to each other, will far exceed our past lives as individuals, and will be joined as one life lived by two individuals in tandem, apart but connected and focused on a common goal.
Wishing everyone the best in 2007,
Noel
2006 was a monster year for us, with change on all sides, and we capped it off with a commitment to each other that has bred a new level of trust and excitement. As I sit in the middle of January in the damp chill of New Orleans, it is with a certain awareness that last year I was in the dry frigidity of Chicago, and I cannot help but to compare the relative merits of temperate climate (which New Orleans has) and insulation (which New Orleans does not). This debate notwithstanding, last January marked the beginning of a transformative year for Lisa and me, as Lisa set off on a month-long quest of discovery of self and dance in Europe. What she found, in the end, was that the journey was what she was after, and that the opportunities that availed themselves were less than the magic that she sought, and could not fully assuage the comforts of home. When I joined her in Sweden in February (Valentine's Day, as fate would have it), it was with great joy and happiness that we were reunited, the warmth of which allowed us to persevere Scandanavia in the depths of winter (I can see that it must be very beautiful indeed in the summer.). Our travel to Finland was the high point of the trip, as we were rewarded by the friendliness of the Finns and shown a great time.
Back in Chicago, we reflected on our trip, and on Lisa's journey, and I led a volunteer trip of grad students to New Orleans to assist in the recovery. Though I did not realize it at the time, this was a trip of monumental portent, one of those events that changes the course of at least a few lives. After seeing the city in its misery and its aging beauty, in its inevitable and inherent contradictions, I knew what I must do to find the purpose I was looking for in my work. Upon my return to Chicago, Lisa saw the same in my eyes, and after a few days of decision and indecision, we decided to see what we both could do to make a home in the Crescent City.
While I worked and finished grad school, I scrounged enough contacts to put together a reasonable job search and traveled to New Orleans in June in search of job and house. In the meantime, Lisa had applied to and been accepted at Tulane University - so it was on me to find a means of employment. That came about in the course of my interviews, as I was directed to my current place of work by word of mouth - and it turned out to be the best place of employment I could have found. The company is a two-person (myself and the President) development company, started after Hurricane Katrina by the President, Kathy Laborde, and some national funders (including Fannie Mae and Credit Suisse, among others). Given my interests and experience, I couldn't have asked for a better place to land. And we found an apartment that weekend also, as Lisa joined me Saturday and we signed a lease on Sunday. Thankfully, not all of our weekends are so full of excitement. I'm not sure I could deal with finding a new job and a new house every 7 days.
With these big items on our move-to-New-Orleans to-do list crossed off, we focused on packing up the Chicago apartment, on finishing my master's program and delivering a speech at graduation, on seeing our friends, and on contemplating the future. And it was here soon enough, as we embarked on our journey in late July (3 years to the day since Lisa and I had first met), arriving in New Orleans August 1. Now, as much as Scandanvia in winter is the wrong place at the wrong time to thoroughly enjoy one's surroundings, so is New Orleans in August, and it only got hotter from there. But we persevered through the mind-altering heat-and-humidity cocktail, and gradually accustomed ourselves to the overwhelming destruction all around us, and began to look for, and find, signs of rebirth and renewal and courage. Lisa started school, and tackled it with the ferocity of a professional athlete, and I started work, and was invigorated by the tremendous sense of purpose I found in contributing to the recovery of this great American city.
In the midst of all this, my good friend Geoff and I purchased season tickets to the New Orleans Saints of the National Football League - for the record, the worst professional sports franchise in the history of the country - at the ridiculously low price of $250. For the entire season. Folks, I have never been a big football fan, but if you have read from past entries the excitement and the spirit and the overwhelming love of Gulf South fans for their Saints, then you can only imagine that this was one of the best purchases, nay investments, of perhaps my life to date. Excepting, of course, for Lisa's engagement ring (photo forthcoming). In any case, the Saints' magical season thus far is truly a part of the rebirth of New Orleans and the Gulf South, and I shall hurl much spite and vindictive against anyone who dares to say otherwise. The essential piece of this puzzle is that the Saints players know that they are playing more than football, they are playing a game of survival, as they provide so many thousands of people with a necessary diversion from the mind-numbing despair that is on all sides here, and they are really a lifeline to a bygone era of normality that everyone is nostalgic for yet no one can reach, not even those whose homes were not flooded. So the Saints carry the region forward, through the best season in the history of the franchise, and the people carry themselves forward, out of necessity, because the various levels of government surely aren't. And Lisa and I settled into a new life in New Orleans, and are becoming acquainted with its intricacies and oddities, its vernacular (neutral ground, time-saver, King Cake, 12th Night, go cups, the re-election of William Jefferson, and much more).
By the end of the semester, Lisa smoked everyone at Tulane and finished with a 3.9 GPA, and I set aside my duties as Project Manager of 4 projects to do some much-needed holiday travel and relaxation. So it was that we visited my family and hers in the Carolinas, and so it was that we became engaged at the end of the year, at my parents' house on 912 Shepherd Street in Durham, NC ("the relatively bland environs of", according to the New Orleans Times-Picayune - ask me about that some other time). Looking around us, and knowing that we had made the transition to perhaps the most inconvenient city in the country in amazingly good, though at times rocky, shape, we knew that it was time to commit to each other and to hold each other's happiness and well-being as our own highest priorities.
And so here we are, with a new year and new semester upon us, with much reason to believe that this year is a year of destiny, and that this life, which starts anew through the commitment we have made to each other, will far exceed our past lives as individuals, and will be joined as one life lived by two individuals in tandem, apart but connected and focused on a common goal.
Wishing everyone the best in 2007,
Noel
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Saints Make History
Pandemonium. The Superdome was overflowing with ecstasy last night, as the Saints found a way to beat the Philadelphia Eagles. It was tense, especially after Westbrook's 62-yard run put the Eagles up 21-13, but in the end the Deuce was too much for the Eagles to contain, and these Saints would not let a late Reggie Bush fumble spoil their trip to the NFC Championship. A Seattle victory against Chicago today will bring that game to New Orleans, while a Bears win will take the Saints to Chitown.
But I digress. Before looking ahead, let's just revel in the history-making. Never before in the 40 years of the franchise have the Saints been so far in the playoffs, and never before have they won a divisional game at home. Having been at this game, and also the Monday Night game that re-opened the Superdome, I can say that this team is carrying the football-crazed denizens of the Gulf South on its shoulders. Responding in the aftermath of the country's most deadly man-made disaster, the Saints have been a lifeline of pre-Katrina normalcy in otherwise tenuous times.
Walking ar0und the quarter last night, I have never been surrounded by so many happy people or seen so many smiles on barflies. It was a great feeling, and a wonderful night, and I am somewhat sorry to see it go, as the reality of post-Katrina life is already nipping at the heals of last night's euphoria. Before we sink back into reality, just let us be happy for ourselves, that we get to see the Saints play one more time this year.
Be a Saint.
But I digress. Before looking ahead, let's just revel in the history-making. Never before in the 40 years of the franchise have the Saints been so far in the playoffs, and never before have they won a divisional game at home. Having been at this game, and also the Monday Night game that re-opened the Superdome, I can say that this team is carrying the football-crazed denizens of the Gulf South on its shoulders. Responding in the aftermath of the country's most deadly man-made disaster, the Saints have been a lifeline of pre-Katrina normalcy in otherwise tenuous times.
Walking ar0und the quarter last night, I have never been surrounded by so many happy people or seen so many smiles on barflies. It was a great feeling, and a wonderful night, and I am somewhat sorry to see it go, as the reality of post-Katrina life is already nipping at the heals of last night's euphoria. Before we sink back into reality, just let us be happy for ourselves, that we get to see the Saints play one more time this year.
Be a Saint.
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