So with the great life changing event of Katrina and the recent coming of Rosh Hashanah ( god I hope I spelled it right, I'd be such a bad jew if I didn't) I think it's appropriate to start documenting what's going on with me. Kinda like a New Year's re[s/v]olution. Also I'm killing time on a Saturday with absolutely nothing to do in the small town of La Place, LA. I mean, I guess I could be cruising the aisles of WalMart, but (not to sound self righteous) I might be a little above that. I travelled into New Orleans last weekend for the first time since Katrina to check out my apartment and see the city with my own eyes. I expected a mess, but I was overwhelmed with the vast devestation that I saw. The radio broadcasters had been declaring that incredible amounts of clean up that had already occurred, but debris still lines the streets, billboards are shredded, and house are in ruins. I reached my house with guarded optimism. My landlord had gotten my hopes up a few days earlier with a confident presumption that my house had incurred no damage, but he was mistaken. About two feet of water had made its way through the front door and even though it doesn't sound like a lot, it proved to be catastrophic. That beautiful purple couch that had been a staple of my college experience was now a multicolored icon of Katrina's wrath. In fact, all of my furniture is now a decaying garbage heap. The good news was some of my belongings that were higher up in my apartment were salvageable. My personal library and the one suit that I owned were left unscathed. While I am jealous of my fellow uptown teachers whose residence were spared, I still feel guilty for applying for FEMA. There are so many others who entire livelihood had been eradicated. I had developed a sweet affinity for the big easy, but the reality is that my roots had merely burrowed into the surface. It would have been so simple to not return and get some job waitering in the northeast, but I know I would have given birth to a swarm of regrets for not returning to a region that needs my help. The one thing that did scare me though was not the initial revelation of the loss of my community, but what it would feel like months down the line when my social support had dispersed throughout the country, to Houston, Baton Rouge, the Northeast. Here I am, only a month back, and I am already feeling socially deprived. Perhaps it's selfish to have these thoughts. My work back at Garyville/ Mt. Airy Magnet School has been rewarding and I am taking a warm satisfaction in my contribution to my kids, but it's still tough. I miss all my friends. If I haven't told you personally, I am telling you now. I appreciate you. In true Garrett style, I'd like to apologize for any self-grandizing or offending exposition. I guess I shouldn't since this is my blog, but if you've gotten this far Kudos! I know my prose can be dry, but this has felt cathartic. I will do my best to continue to make entries, but I am an eternal flake, so we shall see... On that note since this natural disaster I believe I've had a [Copernican Revolution (see: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance)] ---delete, delete, delete---(ala Doogie Howser) long few weeks.
