The three year anniversary of Katrina is approaching and I’m still hundreds of thousands of dollars upside on my mortgage because of the 3x cost elevation of doing the house, there are still neighborhoods that look like a war went through them, and there are the people that are still in the diaspora. I spoke to one today talking about an airline ticket – I said my clothes were lost on the way out there and she said well you’re from New Orleans, you should know how to get along without your stuff.
Turns out she is a Katrina diaspora girl – stuck in Atlanta where she says, “it’s too big, the food isn’t good, the people aren’t right” – I said yeah, you’re right. But she can’t find work here at home, so there she stays. Her sister is still trying to get her house finished as the insurance company dangles her on a string.
She spent a long time trying to help me get my girlfriend home earlier and at the end when there was not a Paris, Prague or Moscow flight to be had, she said with a sigh, just take a deep breath and she’ll be home before you know it.
I’ve been holding my breath for so long that when I let it out, the Sahara will see sandstorms.