Who'd a thunk it?

At the urging of my fabulous, yet exasperating friend (you know who you are, and I love you dearly,) I've finally actually started the blog that I have procrastinated over for the past 11 months. But, before I launch into what's sure to be a string of snarky commentary about myself and pretty much everything and anything that I encounter on a daily basis, I guess I should start with some background about what motivated me to start this in the first place.

It's been an interesting year, to say the least. After spending my entire life in New Orleans, the hot, humid, mosquito infested drinking town that I love more than any place in the world, I packed my bags last January and set off on what has been quite a journey.

First stop: Hell. Or at least that's where I thought I hand landed. After a 17 hour drive up the east coast, I found myself in the sleepy little town of Linthicum Heights, MD. I was always led to believe that Hell is a hot place - you know the stories: flames of hell, hot coals, yadda, yadda. Well, my friends, we've all been mislead. Hell is a place where I experienced "Snowmageddon."  Where it is so freaking cold that you feel like mother nature is sandblasting your face and your joints literally freeze in place. Being snowed in used to sound fun, well, it sucks! Being stuck in a 400 sq. ft apartment with no tv at all for a week makes one completely understand how Jack Nicholson went crazy in "The Shining." And, timing was so convenient, given that the blizzard of the decade chose Superbowl Sunday - the year the Saints actually made it - to make its theatrics known! Let's just say that the long walk in the snow over a bridge to the nearest Ruby Tuesdays to watch the game was completely worth it. Don't get me wrong, MD did have it's redeeming qualities. Annapolis is a fun little town and it was nice to see D.C. up close and personal, but I'm not exactly begging to go back anytime soon.

A four month stint in MD and a 36 hour drive later, I finally made it to my desert oasis: Fabulous Las Vegas! Or, as I like to think of it, the glitzier, drier West Coast New Orleans. Well, sort of. The heat was a more than welcome embrace, but I've learned a few lessons over the last 6 months:  dive bar attire is apparently not appropriate for pretty much any place out here - unless you want to fit in with the homeless population (who are surprisingly creative with their signs,) I apparently have an accent (which I genuinely never suspected,) and survival skills are required in the desert, which include:  drink a ridiculous amount of water or constantly resemble a dried out raisin, buy lotion in bulk to prevent a striking resemblance to Ashy Larry, and stock up on saline spray to prevent the amazingly dramatic nosebleed that I experienced on what was supposed to be my first "big" night out on the town. Who ever would have thought that one could miss humidity?

So, Vegas is now the home to this Southern girl, and I must admit, I think I'm going to love it here. Even if I'm the only one with a Southern accent, and without a ridiculously fancy car - Ferraris and Lamborghinis are overrated :)