New Orleans or Bust

I'm about to embark on a 9 day stay in New Orleans during Halloween to participate in a group show to celebrate the grand opening of a good friend's art gallery with an entourage of party-loving people.  There are a lot of red flags in that last sentence for someone who decided to quit drinking and having fun a couple of months ago.  I'm about to step into a goddamn hornet's nest.  I tell myself that this is a business trip because 1.) it makes me sound as if I should be wearing a pant suit and toting around a briefcase and that makes me giggle but more importantly 2.) it will hopefully help me refrain from going totally apeshit crazy in a spring break sorta way.  I can be a responsible grownup...I can be a responsible grownup...

To curb the allure of debauchery, I have scheduled appointments to sketch from the animal specimen collection and tour the art department of a local university.  I've vowed to visit every structure, be it glorified mansion to ramshackle leanto, that houses art or critters and the rest of the time will be spent painting, sleeping, or eating fried gator tails, varmint gumbo, and whatever else those Cajuns throw on a plate.  I want to be up to my eyeballs in all that is New Orleans.