I am stuck between worlds right now, unable to fully navigate Mardi Gras and the hard places. I mean, this year, it seems like everything else is happening elsewhere and the parades are a sideline.  Aside from one float referencing tar balls in this past Saturday's Krewe of Carrollton parade, I haven't seen many injections of current events in Carnival 2011 since I marched with Krewe du Vieux over a week ago.  I'm almost ready to get on an orange shirt, a sport jacket, a nice check for $650K, and perhaps wield this sign out on the parade route:

Contributing to the Carnival blues? We tried to go to Nine Roses out on the West Bank of the river a tad too early yesterday and ran smack into Krewe of Alla traffic. I instantly thought of our schlepping to Mimi's in River Ridge to sample some of chef Pete Vasquez's fare, but forgot that River Ridge on Sunday is not New Orleans on a Sunday. So Zea's in River Ridge it was.  Ugh.  Passable but ugh.

Caught a smidgen of the Oscars last night and found they bypassed GasLand and Exit Through The Gift Shop for Inside Job in the best documentary category. Frankly, I was amazed that I was still awake after that bit of the Academy Awards, and even though there were people on Twitter exclaiming over montage after montage, I was loath to go back to watching it.  What I now want to see is Dan Sinker of @MayorEmanuel Twitter account fame put out the tweets in book form and then get a movie made based on their story. Perhaps then some joy might come back to the world of motion pictures...or at least to my world.

Truth of the matter is, being near the parade route has started to really wear on us this year, not the least because of the parking issues and the fact that we in the Lower Garden District haven't quite been able to shake the people who want to claim parade-watching land in their names and will fight us with their caution, packing and/or duct tape and mineral rights if they deem it necessary - and they always do.  Come Bacchus Sunday, we will probably be at our pal Pacrac's party near the startoff point of the Thoth parade, and then we'll be away, far away, from our 'hood for a while after that.  No Bacchus for us. Bah scumbag.

I am now sorely tempted to pull a Nettie with the karaoke machine and have the celebration come to me more.  He-ey Mardi Gras.