Dome foam and nachos hold the peppers please

So the Red Sox signed Coco Crisp on Friday. I was greeted by with a phone call from my hoodlum friend up in Beantown.

"Yeah bitches... That's right we got the Coco on our team now. I'm kooko for Coco Crisp!!!"

I guess things can start settling down to normal in Boston. Not likely. Especially when you have an offseason filled with as much drama as an Lisa Lobe first date. There are many questions to answer still, "What to do with the fat man?" "Whose gonna play shortstop?" "Will Foulke ever break out of his psychoctic menstraul phase?' "I guess Matt Clement should get a guest appearance on Lost?"

Well as I ponder over those offseason moves, let me just say the best acquistion the Sox made was retaining the boy wonder. "Can you say retainer?" Theo knew somewhere in the back of his mind that Larry Luccino would bow down to John Henry and the baseball gods of Boston would beg for him to return with more authority. I can rest know at least until pitchers and catcher report.

As things continue to shape up or sink in New Orleans. My Saints seem to be the damn Penn and Teller of the league. Always looking to amaze a crowd of bystanders with their grotesque magical shows in order to drum up some publicy for their two man show. i.e. the old dog and pony show. Yeah the Saints hired a new coach. Yeah it's going to be a new season. Still, how many free agents are the Saints going to go after. Will they bargain hunt for draft picks or blow the whole wad on Todd Marijuanavich, err I mean Matt Leinart. In the 2006 NFL Draft the New Orleans Saints select.... Rusty Bowles... Deepsnapper from Bowling Green University. Way to save on the cost of a few more Dome Dawgs.

Well that's it for the sports rant. I've had enough for this week. I can't wait for the start of the Winter Olympics so that I can go into hibernation as I await the grapefruit league scores.
Boston (SS) 21
Tampa Bay (SS) 3

Change of address is needed

Many people ask me, "What's it like living in San Diego?" I guess the best way to describe it is to say that it's kind of like the feeling you get when your vacations almost over. You really don't want to think about going back to work, but you end up thinking about it once or twice and it just depresses the crap out of ya'. When I drive to and from work I really can't imagine me living my life out here in San Diego. It just doesn't seem right. Then again when you have a Cat 4 or 3 or whatever hurricane mess up your life nothing seems right anymore.

The best way I think about is that it's almost like a bonus sick day or extended vacation. I really don't deserve it because there are plenty others that do, but hell if I am gonna let this opportunity pass me by. I mean how many times in a person life can they make note of the fact they've lived in so many places. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to do so much traveling in my life. When school was nearing an end for me I figured that the world was my oyster the problem was I wasn't that good at shucking. So I bounced from here to there, then back to here again followed by another there. Easy Rider himself, Henry Fonda, can't hold a lick to the amount of road I've covered since high school.

Not to sound prophetic or to rationalize my stay in San Diego though life is all about the many obstacles with constant changes in the direction of the paths we choose. San Diego isn't home. It may never be home, still I can't complain about the change in scenery. It has provided me with a new outlook on life. The beach is awesome. Jamba Juice is the best thing since Smoothie came out with the Muscle Punch. Traffic isn't that bad, I hear horror stories about New Orleans. My commute is 18 miles in about 20 minutes. Not too mention the weather is quite pleasant by winter standards. I felt a drizzle the other day, but I think the neighbors may have left their sprinklers on a bit too long. In-n-Out are hands down the best burgers on the planet. Plus there are more microbreweries in San Diego than Louisiana had in the whole state. I am proud to tell people that I am a New Orleanian. I am also proud to tell people that I live in San Diego. Now if only I could figure out how to get the guy down the street to carpool with me to work. Then everything would be grand. Beunos notches.

You know it's my busy time of the year!!

I am addicted. Yeah, you guessed it. It's not like I have Nitendo thumb, but it could be worse. I spend countless hours trying to figure out new and inventive ways to use it. When I first got it there was nothing that would stop me from opening it up to make sure it worked. So what's the big deal. I like to play with toys. Aren't all boys the same.

While intermixing my time between cool video downloads and what's the best podcast available on the web, I feel that it is not going to waste. A few months ago you could have mentioned a podcast to me, and probably the first thing that pops into my head is the place where they store all the portable storage containers you see in front of peoples' homes. Now I can recite to you my top five favorite podcast that are relevant to me as of the date and time. I can also speak at ease on the topic of video downloads that not only have improved my life, but made life that much better at work.

I know work amongst the cubicle people that talk amongst themselves as if you were asking them to pass the toilet paper in the bathroom stall next to them. I can hear every personal conversation, every dispute with their computer, and more importantly smell every morsel of food that travels through our delictable airwaves. As I know spend time counseling or advising students about their career I try to keep a profession demeanor about myself while making sure the IPod is not noticeable through my shirt sleeve. I love the interaction I have with the students. More importantly I love helping the students. I just hate having to do that within the confines of the Dilbert arena. Not only does my co-workers hear every conversation I have with a student, but my boss can overhear the conversation. Twice this past week, my boss came over to me and stated that I was doing a good job with students, but needed to be more quiet. Yeah, sure thing. "Can you come back in a few because I kind of busy right now. I have a meeting with the Bob's." As the school year starts for these new students, I am pushing hard to get back into the classroom. This week I get to go into 5 classes and give a little time management workshop. First lesson about time management workshop, don't show up late to a workshop when you're the presenter. Well, hopefully next I will be able to download the workshop onto ITunes so they could watch it on their new IPods on the Podcast section.

WWOZ is on the computer...

"Take me back to New Orleans, and drop me at my door. Because I might love you yeah, but I love me more." - Cowboy Mouth

Yeah, I know it's been a while. And for the few people who check to see my post, thanks for coming back. What's new? Well, a new job I start about a month ago at a local art institute. While trying to see how I could build comparments below my cubicle in order to take naps during the day, and finding the coolest online radio websites to play music while I day dream at Tetris things couldn't be better.

I am still living with family members, when I come to think about it...sucks. But there are lots of advantages. Such as the rent check is very minimal. I think if I was stil back home I would be living with relatives because last I heard they are still trying to figure things out back home.

I miss home. I miss my po-boys from Radosta. My sausage link from Nor-Jo's. My crawfish burrito from Kokopelli's. My Wednesday night 2 dollar pint night at the Bulldog. My Drago's chargrilled ersters. My Abita with my brothers. My 3 beer Thursday with my Pops. My wasted time at Wal-Mart. My late night runs to Morning Call. My mid-day runs to City Park. My King cakes from Randazzo's. My Douberge cake from Gambino's. My pralines from Ms. Pam. (Two of those could put you in an epelectic seizure) My afternoon jogs along the lakefront. My Saturday night late night listen to WWOZ. The list goes on.

As if "normalcy" could mean enough to me now, all I really want is my way of life back. Now it has been upended into a spiralling confused world of ridiculous housing costs mixed with a dash of uncertainity of family closeness. When people ask me about my hometown I never talk in the past tense. It still my home, always will be. The problem I have relating to people is the mess that is New Orleans. Between the politically backlashing, finger pointing, lay offs, and housing boom on the northshore lies what most people around the see and hear on the news. Life goes on. Like it does in many places with little thought or repercussion as to what goes on in my hometown. That's what hurts most. As I look forward everyday my life is similar to that of New Orleans, a challenge unmistakenly filled with hope and perservance, but also a hint of uncertainity as to whether I will make this new town my home or travel elsewhere to start over. Life. It presents us with the challenges and decisions that some view as unfair and some righetous. I look forward to the day I can reclaim my hometown. I dream of it every second and everyday like I used to look forward to the next crawfish boil.