Red beans and rice.

In my back pocket I keep the fantasy of moving to New Orleans and becoming a voodoo priestess. Of course, you know I'm kidding. But still, New Orleans. It calls.
Well before the storm it was my escape hatch, which I do believe has always been that city's role in the U.S. Where all the crazy people and outcasts go when they're done running from one place to another.
Visit Aunt Mary on Sundays and eat red beans and rice on Mondays. Could be worse.