New Year's

I'm watching three men rattling away during the Mavericks-Pistons halftime. Its either comic or ridiculous, their commentary, its become a performance, but whatever, that's not the purpose of this session. We had just got back from Santa Fe, and everyone was back at work, when the question popped up, 'What's up for New Year's?'. Something Zubin said, occurred to me, and thus was born the idea of New Orleans. The planning was quick and dirty, we needed a place to stay and it took until Saturday for us to finally find a place to stay, almost ended up with the hobos next to Canal Street.

The drive down was uneventful, but New Orleans, Canal Street, and finally Bourbon Street was absolutely great. There were literally thousands of people crawling all over the place. The great thing about New Orleans is you're allowed to walk around with your drink. They take barhopping very literally, in fact while you're walking from one to the another, you run out, there're conveniently located stalls with beers or jello shots along the way. Being a novice, I had a great time, but around me there were veterans who put them away like there was no tomorrow and the performances that resulted were hilarious.

Dining in New Orleans requires a suspension of all limits, there is no such thing as having had enough, because you can't afford to feel that way. There's so much to try, and so little time. Gumbo, jambalaya, etoufee, fish, chicken (maybe), the list goes on. We found this exquisite little english pub, in Algiers, just south of the Canal Street Ferry dock. I had my first Irish Bomb, and for that alone I am thankful for having gone. Consider the oddity, an Irish drink, in an English pub, in a French-American city, in a suburb named after an African city.

We stayed in the French Quarter, except for a misadventure into the Garden District, entirely Arun's fault, and we saw no signs of any trauma, except of course for an overwhelming police presence. Go to New Orleans, people.

Christmas in Santa Fe

I know the title is uninspiring, let's hope the rest of this soliloquy picks it up. Although I don't remember the date and time, I do recall the place and reason for Santa Fe being chosen to spend last Christmas at. I was at work a couple of weeks before christmas twiddling my thumbs when of all things I began to read CNN's Travel page. I happened upon an article by a lady who had written about her last Christmas, you guessed it, at Santa Fe. The piece was so well-written, as opposed to what you are reading now, I was immediately sold. She described the quaintness and charm of Santa Fe with such eloquence and sincerity it helped me persuade my friends to going. From that point on it was just figuring out the most economical way of getting there and staying there. Santa Fe during christmas is an exquisite experience, a conglomeration of Western, Hispanic, and Native American culture. The food, the farolito walk on christmas eve, the food, the adobe architecture, did i mention the food, the skiing, and of course the FOOD!!!!! If you go to Santa Fe, eat at Maria's, have there blue corn enchilada with the carne. It will leave you gasping for breath, and in extreme confusion, quench the fire in your mouth or shovel some more in. Skiing was great, word of advice, take the classes, and get as much time on the slopes as you can. Our instructor was great, got us all whizzing down the slopes in a few hours. As the day drew to a close, Varkey, Arun and I, decided to graduate ourselves from the bunny slope to the next level of green. We got on the lift and just kept going, finally getting off at the top of the mountain. I tell you people, it was beautiful, perfect snow, conifers standing tall, all these graceful people zipping down, and then there was me, scared *$@&less, not sure if it was time to start the flashback reel. Varkey and I started down, until I took my first spill. He waited until I got back up on my skis, and stayed until my next spill, which came soon, after which he abandoned me to my fate. I made my way down, finally, just before my sister filed a missing skier report. It was exhilirating, those moments on my back, admiring the sky, waving at skiersby, the few upright seconds, wind in my face, inching around turns, making sure I didn't take the blue slope inadvertently. Even though I spent a lot of time on my back, legs twisted beneath me, it was gratifying, I'll be going again.
Christmas eve in Santa Fe is the highpoint of the season. Farolitos, little paper bags with candles inside them, lined along Canyon Road, light up Christmas Eve. Hundreds of people come out, there are bonfires along the way with carolers every so often regaling passersby with popular tunes. Many of the stores, mostly galleries, are open. Walk around, get some hot chocolate, browse through exquisite art, watch a glass-blower at work, sing along for a while, warm your hands at a bonfire, enjoy the people, enjoy the lights, fall in love with Santa Fe.

My Virgin Post

The great world of blogging has been beckoning for a while now and for some reason it's taken this long for me to follow its call. My writing is awfully rusty, being an engineer and all. The only writing I've been doing for several years now has mostly been formulae and if I'm lucky I get to write whole sentences when making up a concrete specification. This blog is going to be an attempt to oil out the literary machinery that I think lurks beneath. We'll see.

I plan to write randomly, thoughts, events, expressions of angst, whatever comes to mind, which I believe is part of the spirit of a blog. I'm going to go back in time a bit for my first actual blog, as I have to write about Santa Fe and last Christmas, and then there's going to be New Orleans and New Year's, after which I'm actually going to run out of things to say, and as that kind of coincided with running out of money, I probably won't have anything interesting to write about for a while.

I hope this venture of mine lasts longer than some of the others I've tried. So here's wishing a Happy New Year to all of you out there.

Blogger out.