I recently went to Jazz Fest in New Orleans.
There is no reason to go to Jazz Fest unless you like amazing food, frozen margaritas, awesome music and the coolest city ever.
(I’ll wait while you make your travel arrangements for next year.)
As soon as I got there, I saw this sign in the taxi…
It’s kind of New Orleans’ folksy way of saying, “Welcome!”
And there are all kinds of inspirational messages around the city.
It’s just a gritty, funky, charming place.
I went to NOLA with some of my favorite Tulane girls.
There is something so special about hanging with friends that you’ve known a very long time. It just feels so easy, so comforting, so fun. You get to say things like, “You look exactly the same” and then they say, “You look exactly the same.” And you both really mean it.
And they understand when you explain that you thought you were bringing your ibuprofen but you accidentally brought stool softeners (from your pregnancy days) and now you can definitely confirm that a stool softener won’t get rid of a headache.
But in your defense, the bottles are exactly the same size.
See what I mean?
Of course, it’s a little hard to come back to reality. Like when you come back, your kids expect you to take care of them again.
And partying with your friends for a weekend does not really improve your parenting skills the following week.
But I’m starting to accept that Jazz Fest is over.
One of these days, I might even unpack.