We started with one of the MUST HAVES, Pork Buns. These are sweet and savory and I have it on good authority they are laced with crack.

Pork Buns

Sun got her MUST HAVE dish, stir-fried noodles with vegetables. These are wonderful, and they fully and completely satisfied Sun.

Noodles

Then we ate some shrimp in tofu that was not as warm as it should have been and totally disappointed. For even more adventure, we opted for the pigs’ feet. My friend LOVED these. Had her boyfriend not been present, I secretly think she’d have married these feet. I did not share her love. So I leave it to you to try it yourself and settle the tie. I found the flavor not well pleasing and worse was the gelatinous texture. Not a good combo in my mouth.

Pigs' Feet

CS got the scallop dish. And DID NOT SHARE IT. So I’ll take that as a Yes, Please, More.

Scallops

Then, to counter the all-too-bad-taste left in my mouth from the pigs’ feet, I went with my other friend’s recommendation, the custard bun. This oddly reminded me of a stuffed king cake, a really, really GOOD stuffed king cake. Added to my always-growing MUST HAVE list. *Sigh*

Custard Buns

Then we had more mainstream dishes, pork puff pastries, sesame buns (yum!), snails (I admit I wasn’t up for these today but the two that ate them enjoyed them), and my favorite: steamed rice wrapped in a lotus leaf.

Pork Puff Pastry

Sesame Buns

Snails

Rice wrapped in Lotus Leaf

And as we were sitting in our respective food comas, enjoying the afterglow of a nice meal spent with good company, the sound of a distant drum was heard. It grew louder and louder and lo! a Dragon Dance had begun to celebrate the Chinese New Year!

They spilled out into the parking area and a crowd formed. Then streamers were pulled. It. Was. AWESOME. We topped it all of with a trip to the Hong Kong Food Market.

Though this requires a trip across the river (and for us, sadly, it also meant the need to use Garmin), it is well worth it.

Ahhhh.

And as I was waxing philosophic in my moment, Bonnie Tyler’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart” started to play over the coffee shop’s radio.

Every now and then
I get a little bit restless
And I dream of something wild

Is my wild dream now of being alone in a coffee shop, knitting?

Every now and then
I get a little bit nervous
That the best of all the years have gone by

Wow. IS sitting alone in a coffee shop really my wild dream? ARE the best of my years behind me?

This damn song was getting under my skin. I put my knitting down and picked up my cell phone to catch up on Facebook. And I read the unsettling news that a friend who went in to have a cyst removed was informed it was not a cyst but a tumor for which they’ll need to biopsy.

Every now and then
I get a little bit tired
Of listening to the sound of my tears

And Bonnie Tyler was just getting to the part in her song where all her raw emotion flows from her voice with such palpable sadness.

Every now and then
I fall apart

Just like that. In the moment it took to read one short Facebook post, I fell apart.

Every now and then
I get a little bit terrified

My knitting stopped. My hands shook too uncontrollably to handle the needles, the yarn. My mind raced. I fought back tears. And I resisted the urge to call my friend and wake her from her fitful rest.

Every now and then
I get a little bit helpless

She won’t know whether it’s really bad news until later this week. But when one’s having a shitacular year such as this friend is having, this is almost more than even I can bear to think of her having to bear.

Every now and then
I get a little bit angry
And I know I’ve got to get out and cry

Life is a fickle state. Happiness and tragedy dancing on a pinhead ready to swap places at a moment’s notice. As I settled in to discuss my even more tangible needs for life insurance, my friend’s worries ate at the edges of my thoughts.

We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks

When it was time to pack up my things and head out, my wild dream of stability in life such that I can sit alone for one hour and knit with a cafe au lait as my companion no longer seemed pathetic or even tame. And I know I still have much light in my life. Enough even to shine some on my friend on her darkest days.

These types of blues will not be rushed. They move from one item to the next, sizing up my entire life, past, current and future.  What IS the point of life?  The priest at the funeral said it’s about the people with whom we spend our time. But I feel that’s a bit lame. I mean, isn’t HOW I spent my time at least equally important, if not more, as WHO I spend it with?

I feel that the meaning of life is different for different people. And that’s why it’s such a tricky question. What’s the meaning of my life isn’t necessarily the meaning of your life or of the life of those we respect.

So then how do we know the meaning of our own lives? What is it for which I want to be remembered or respected? My legal work? My parenting? This silly blog? No one thing rises to the top as THE central focus of my life.  And instead, I find myself measuring up short on any category taken alone. And on all taken together.

I am inspired to work harder, to love more, to be more alive–write, garden, cook, appreciate friends, visit family, LIVE. But it’s hard to do any of that when all I want to do is pull the covers over my head and delay one more day.

This afternoon, I spent with friends that unfortunately needed my legal services.  We spent hours going through papers, making calls, developing options.

When my friends left, the Missus hugged me.  After a moment, I pulled away and she stayed hugging.  I resumed my end of the hug and then after another moment pulled away again.  I resumed the hug for a third time and then pulled away yet again after just another moment.  I knew if I stayed in that hug, it’d break my heart in two.  And that isn’t part of the job.  Especially when the Mister is watching feeling vulnerable as all get-out.

This evening, the Missus sent me a message thanking me for today.  I responded that I was sorry about shorting her on the hug; that I knew I’d have cried had I stayed hugging and that just wasn’t what either of them needed.

She wrote back to me the following:

I got choked up when I hugged you so there was no shortness on your end.  It just made me realize what life has brought us through and I just felt overwhelmed.  I kept thinking today of all the work you did in law school and living away and how great you are doing.  It’s awesome that you have a wonderful profession and can spent time with Sun. It is a really extraordinary thing, what you have done with your life and not to sound  like a “mom” but I am proud of you.  And you were so great today! I could never repay you for all you did today with being kind and aware of us and our feelings.  I just want to make sure that you know how thankful I am.  It’s been really tough and I can only get through this with support like you gave today.  It means everything!

And THAT is why I am an attorney.

Thank you, Missus, for reminding me on an otherwise most awful of days.

Now, not wanting to overstate the case here, I asked René his opinion on what, exactly, would constitute a “filé emergency.”  In the end, all three of us agreed this was a true filé emergency and if there as a jar available, it was mine.

But then last Tuesday, I got an email informing me that Lionel, the filé guy, would in fact be at the market and I could buy it straight from him.  So Sun and I were given the treat of seeing the sassafras leaves pulverized before our very eyes in the biggest, smoothest wooden mortar and pestle that can possibly exist.  It was a slice of heaven.

Hmm, slice of heaven.  KING CAKE.  After having procured the filé powder, I knew I had to send Leendaluu a Saints Game Care Package.  So Sun and I then headed to Haydel’s to get a king cake.  Though Leendaluu can assuredly bake one that’s delicious, it’s always nice to have one delivered to your door.  And what’s king cake without chickory in your coffee? So next we headed to CC’s.  Now, to tie it all to the SAINTS, I added to her package the now infamous (at least on Twitter) Fleurty Girl’s #WHODAT t-shirt.

Then came the hard part.  I had to keep my big mouth SHUT til she got it! TWO WHOLE DAYS!!  But got it she did!  And she wore her shirt Sunday and, well, y’all know the rest of the story.

Looking back, there could never have been a more dire filé emergency. I hope she enjoys her gumbo as she watches the Saints win the Superbowl. I know my running around town getting all her items was the best day I’d had in a long while.

I’ve been appreciating my weekdays with Sun a whole lot more lately.  I think it’s that she’s getting to an age, finally, where she’s really interactive.  And funny.  No, I won’t bore you with funny tales that won’t seem funny to anyone but me and CS.  But she’s certainly grown on me more these past few weeks.  Love her to pieces, I do.

I’ve got a new hobby lately.  Facebook.  I know. Sad. And worse? I am there for dumb Farmville!  I dream of living on that dang farm. It’s crazy! I am city girl through and through.  But what’s more addictive is watching the thread of a distant friend as she and another distant friend try to get each other’s head to explode.

She is a new mom.  And a doula.  She is an advocate to breast feeding, not getting vaccines, and not having others touch her baby (even at 8 months).  She is also now making her own yogurt and other delectable treats.  And she writes about these topics daily.

He is a guy. And a father.  But mainly a guy.  And so when she posts pictures on Ina May emerging from a homemade vagina, his head begins to spin.  And when she posts about a baby that died in flight because the airline “forced” the mother to cover her baby and she fell asleep, but the story she links to doesn’t mention the mother being forced at all, his spinning head begins to release steam.

He attempts to point out to her that maybe she needs to be more objective in her analysis.  But his approach does nothing but offend her.  And the more he pushes, the more she stands her ground, even as her head begins to spin and steam.

So now, each day, I can’t wait to see what she’ll post to get his goat which will inevitable lead to his responding.  And then hers, and his again, etc.

And I just sit back and enjoy.  And then I go to my farm and milk cows.

My slow and steady life is going just fine.

Morning rolled in, we all rose a bit later than usual. I returned to the hospital to have more blood drawn then drove in to work for the first time since. I knew I had to get two sets of documents drafted and have lunch with a peer that I’d postponed on Tuesday. I couldn’t face the challenges of the day. Or so I thought. I finagled in my mind how to get things done in the office without my presence. The first step was postponing lunch. Again.

I turned on my computer and the email was already in my in-box: “I’m still on for lunch. Are you?” And I couldn’t bring myself to be weak and say no. Again. So I said yes. And then I got busy drafting my documents.

And work was my saving grace. The time zipped along. It was lunch time already. I met my new friend. We exchanged the married with kids info. He asked, “Just one? Are you going to have another?” And the pang to be honest beat in my chest — tell this stranger about your week, thought I. “Nope, just the one is enough for us,” I answered, not revealing too much to this unsuspecting stranger. “I think that’s great. My mother was an only child. And all the only children I knew did quite well. I am not sure why folks make such a big deal about only children.”

And just like that. My train was put back on its tracks. I felt normal. I wasn’t thinking about what had happened. I was sipping a glass of wine and enjoying the talk of family, law, nice weather in NOLA.

This “it” affected me, is affecting me, in ways I never could have imagined it would. But time is doing its job. And my train is on the track again, chugging along, even if slowly.

Things DO work out. Heh. What a wild ride this week has been.

Tonight, though, was decadent. We went to a mod restaurant .  One that’s sleek and expensive and has not one highchair in the joint.  We left Sun at the hotel with my sister and took a cab to join NOLA friends that also attend The Con every year.  We went to Suite & Tender and enjoyed dishes like Kobe beef carpaccio, scallops coupled with pork belly, crab cakes, seared tuna, sea bass, spare ribs and lobster.  And we had desserts!  And they even gave each of us a small pack of cookies for the road.

The restaurant was dimly light.  I was given a tray of steak knives to choose from; I selected NOT the switchblade one, nor the one designed by the folks that make Porsche, nor even the one designed after a samurai sword; no, I selected the one with rose petals in the handle.  Why? Because I wasn’t a mom tonight.  I was a woman.  In a dress.  And heels!  With rose petals in my flatware.  In a restaurant that has people that are so cool and hip they use new fancier words than “cool” and “hip.”

And the thought bubble over my head now reads, “Thank you, San Diego, for always being such a lovely host.  Thank you.”

It was really great to meet other NOLA bloggers I hadn’t yet met and to catch up with those I now consider my friends.  We had dinner at Mandina’s and then had the opportunity to go for a test drive in the 2010 Taurus, one of only two currently in the entire country.  Cool, eh?

Greta failed to let the nice Ford people know that I buy a new car every 15 years and am still four years out of even hoping to think about a new car.  Nonetheless, I can honestly say that if I find that I do need a new car soon (over even in four years), the new Taurus is in the running.

Aside from the cool keyless entry, the Sirius radio, the sync up capabilities with your cell phone, and the, like, seven funky colors you can select for the inside floor lights (I liked the purple), what I liked best was that it felt solid and controlled.  It handled very smoothly, even on NOLA’s notoriously bumpy streets.  It was also an uber quiet ride.  And then there’s its size.  I HATE large cars and do not think that just because I have a child I need a minivan or an SUV.  Nope, this sedan had more than enough room for my entire family and the stuff we’d take if we’d ever evacuate for a hurricane again, which we won’t but which is now a legitimate consideration New Orleanians have when shopping for a car.

And did I mention the radar on the front end that automatically slows down the cruise control when you approach a slower car and then resumes your speed once that car is no longer in front of you?  Cuz that was just cool and new and pretty awesome.

I wasn’t paid to review this car (other than my lovely meal with great folks).  And I am not running out to buy a Taurus once they are filled on the car lots here.  But for the next four years, at least I now have a vision of what to dream about.