So I’m sitting in a conference room in the middle of New Orleans talking disaster management.

What I really want to do is go to Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo. I think I need some new mojo. Or just something fun to do.  

This is such a cool city, and it’s too bad I’m not here for fun. I did hit the French Quarter yesterday, and drank chicory coffee and ate fried balls of powdered sugar-laden dough.

Wandering back, I hit some tourist dives and sex shops, and literally walked into a parade of drunken Irishmen. By the time I made it back to my hotel I was nearly falling over from the strings of green beads around my neck.

I think this could be my new favorite city.

If only I could get out of this laptop, air-conditioned, sunless, bland coffee hell!