Cleaning my room, listening to all Laurie Anderson's albums, in a row. O Superman is pretty great.

It's nice to be back in Atlanta, even though I miss Chicago, and New York, and New Orleans, and just the sensation of being on the road, only stopping for gas, eating peanutbutter sandwiches for strength, inhaling coffee and caffeine, and sleeping in a different place each night.

I'm flying down to Miami Saturday afternoon, staying at the airport for an hour or so, then meeting a big herd o' Jews and flying to Israel. That will be good. I'm trying to strategize the sort of impression I'll make when I meet everyone - it's probably going to be the version of myself I'll be stuck being throughout the trip, so it's an important decision.

My morning in New Orleans:

We had spent the entire night wandering, staying mainly in this deserted harbor area a few blocks west of Burbon and Canal. Occasionally we'd sort of swoop through Burbon street, but it got boring fast, and I couldn't bring myself to even attempt talking to drunk Tennessee girls staring at me with drunk girl eyes.

So we got back to the car around 5, washed off with the big gallon water jug, and curled in our respective seats to sleep. I don't know what sort of time Jeremy had, sleeping, but I kept being bombarded by a sort of exhilirating paranoia. I would close my eyes, and the shadows around the corners curled and formed fractal creepers pointing towards the ghost me, and then all these weird Jungian type images moved in. I say images, but it was closer to seeing pictures of words, as often happens in dreams. Anyway, I didn't really sleep.

We drove off to find food at about 8am. Went far West down St. Charles, took a left, and found a gas station next to a river. I picked up beef sticks, coffee, and Whoppers, and we spent the next few hours walking along the river, getting horribly lost.

So that was morning. Then we left for New Years Eve party in Hattiesburg.