Am I Moving Back to NYC?

Probably not, though you never can tell.

Situations Move Fast in the Big Easy.

It's been a while.

So much can happen in a month or so. This city can push you every which way if you're not careful.

I was in my first rain storm the other night. This rain wasn't in sheets, it was in curtains - heavy velvet ones. I nonchalantly called a cab, not knowing I was lucky it would even show, and not thinking to roll my pants up to my knees before exiting the bar.

Sewers here are mere decoration. They hang out ironically as the waves of rainwater lap high above them reaching stoops and rolling over lawns.

I felt the waves slapping the bottom of the cab to the tune of my swearing driver as we gurgled past the hospital.

I was grumbling indignantly about the city's inability to come to grips with water when I saw a cop stroll out of the emergency room doors, foot poised to step off the curb, only to realize no curb existed.

He looked down, surveyed the hospital's brand-new lake, and walked back inside.

I smiled the rest of the way home.