potions_master @ 2003-07-30 09:24:00

Current mood:	infuriated
Current music:	Zydeco, apparently. Horrid.

On the street, the peoples hear nothing at all.
And when I thought the American accents could not get any worse, I find myself in a part of the country that seems to exist only to defile my ears with an even more loathesome drawl. I have never enjoyed casting Silencing Spells more than I do in the southern region of the United States.

Not to mention that we were again forced to endure further humilations in Muggle transportation, this time via automobile. It has been several years since I have operated a Muggle motocar, and it would appear one would not need much intelligence to do so if the other motorists on America's wretched roads are any indication. I wonder about the licensing system here - does a Muggle just wander into an office somewhere, perhaps lost and merely in search of a lavatory, and is handed a license simply for their ability to draw breath? Also, Chang forced me to stop in what seemed to be every tiny, tourist-infested shop, where she purchased completely useless rubbish that I suspect will be given as gifts to her friends.

I ask you, what use does the Weasley girl have for a shot-glass with a picture of an oversized parabolic curve painted on it?

In any case, I firmly believe it was by the virtue of Merlin himself that Chang and I reached our destination in one piece - though Lilitou spent much of the journey attached to the back of Chang's neck. Obviously, she does not enjoy travel by auto.

Currently, we are in a corner of this city that likes to pretend that it is, in fact, not in America at all. Let me tell you, signs posted that read "Rue-Bourbon" does not automatically equate Parisian culture, though I will say that the unwashed and perpetually-tipsy denizens do more to lend a decidedly French air to the neighbourhood. The cuisine is a bit strong for my palate, though it is enjoyable enough. A damned sight better than the aeroplane fare, at any rate.

We have taken up residence at the LaLaurie Mansion, though Chang refuses to remain behind when I go about my business due to the house being rather haunted. I do not know what she expects from a place such as this - it has a long history of a very unsettling nature, and yet it is precisely this that keeps the Muggles away (except for some black-clad, extremely pale youths who happen by every so often to take photosgraphs from the road). The fewer Muggles I am to deal with, the better off everyone is, particularly me. Chang contents herself with wandering about the Faubourg Marigny and whinging about American laws regarding alcohol, and those under the age of twenty-one. Her poor luck.

The positive aspect of this place is the sheer number of shops that cater to my professional needs. I was extremely surprised and pleased to locate a small establishment that allowed me to replenish my stores at a decent rate, not to mention procure a few ingredients I would not otherwise be able to find in England. Alligator scales, for one, are quite dear when imported.

Speaking of alligator, Chang has developed a taste for it. When I retrieved her after conducting my business, I found her consuming what looked like a charred piece of wood, on a stick. She informed me that it was in fact "Cajun-blackened 'gator," and that I should try some, as it is indeed "quite scrummy."

I mm tempted to leave her here.

We have, at least, been granted a reprieve of sorts - I am allowed to put my business on hold in order to attend the celebration for the Headmaster's 150th birthday at Lupin's pretentious estate. While I am certain it will be a very interesting event, and Chang is looking forward to it, I find myself less than enthusiastic for one, simple reason.

We will have to travel by bloody aeroplane back to England. Again.

I hate everything, and this entry is finished.

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