Already, I have broken a rule of blogging. I did not put spoiler space on my last post. Thanks to S for letting me know that without actually commenting. :) Yeah, I'm lazy and hate wasting space. But I am a bad blogger. Here you go, there's a spoiler in the post under this, beware.
So something that randomly occurs to me just about every day since I moved to Nola: everyone here is crazy. Really. There's a spectrum and most folks fall on the "charmingly nuts, completely harmless" side and some are, "let's cross the street now" and some are "lock the doors and call the cops." But everyone's crazy. Which, as I told a friend today, is probably why I fit in. It's a little frustrating when you're single and trying to date, but as a writer, it's both helpful and entertaining.
When I write at home and I stop typing for a moment, the noise of the ceiling fan keeps up the clacking in a precise, almost typewriter-esque sound. It's very satisfying, this audible illusion that I'm working. But not so helpful as it can actually delude me into thinking I'm writing. My brain is powering a phantom typewriter. It is!
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