Category Archives: Writing

I did it all… almost

This past year has been challenging to say the least, and I have done nothing but complain about it, just look at the somewhat sad previous entries, where I bitch and say I was going to make some changes, but I found myself too busy with being in bed all day watching funny YouTube videos (you do it too so shut up).

Anyways, if anything the one good thing that came out of this weird, crazy roller-coaster of a year, is that I gained some knowledge on the wonderful thing that is adulting (hope you can read the sarcasm in that). I also can say, this year, I lived to the best of my capacity never missing an opportunity and making it work, regardless of social, financial, emotional or family related difficulties.

In the spirit of me getting shit done, finally, and a better 2017 from here on, I like to take notes from Robert and make this a music post. And the song that has been on replay in my head for the last few weeks is Lived by One Republic. I took the year by the horns and made it by bitch, I manage to meet new people, go to festivals, try new places and more, all while dealing with depression and a hard family event. In the past I would have let my depression take over me, not today Satan, not today! This is also the song I would like to be in my mind when I finally kick the bucket, so time to gain more experiences and LIVE.

Resist: Potholes?

If you are from New Orleans or have ever visited you probably know we have potholes, a lot of them, everywhere. Our potholes do not discriminate on neighborhoods either, you will find them Uptown, 9th Ward, in many major streets and many side streets, the point is we have potholes, a bunch of them.

So it comes as no surprise that we complaint about them ALL the time, as soon as you leave your house and hit the first one “grrr these f… potholes” pops into your head. But as much as we complain, and no matter how many dicks we draw around them to force the city to repair them, yes apparently someone did that once. The truth is that we have kind of grown to love the damn potholes. Furthermore, we miss them once they get all patch up and the streets are smooth as a baby’s butt.

Take me for example, every morning on my way to work I had to avoid the same crater, yes, this one looked like a meteorite had impacted N. Claiborne Ave. So every day depending on traffic conditions I would have to either switch lanes or get mentally prepare for the possibility of my truck just breaking down in the middle of the street. Then one morning the hole was no longer there. There I was driving through the 9th Ward waiting on a pothole that vanished. It had me questioning my own sanity, ” Was sure there was pothole there, did I imagine it? Am I going crazy?” A couple of days later, while I was still struggling to accept the fact that the crater was not there anymore, I noticed how the recently poured concrete contrasted with the rest of the street, the hole had been patched up and now I was missing it.

Don’t get me wrong, I did not miss the pothole itself, nor did I miss the expectation of it every morning, I mean no matter how exciting this sounds my life is not that boring. But it did have me thinking, what would happen if all the streets of New Orleans were fixed? No one single pothole left behind. I believe the city would be missing part of its charm and uniqueness, part of what makes Nola, well Nola. I guess what I am saying is that I would rather curse out loud every time my truck jumps up and down while driving through Magazine Street, than to have New Orleans not be itself, and the fact that I live in the swamp is my ally, I will probably resist most of the things on my featured photo, but I might let the potholes slide, but definitely resist BROTELS!

Featured Photo by Sam Maggio!

Check out the Pimp My Pothole Gallery to see how creative Nola gets with potholes.

Feel free to comment, like and share!


Dot in the distance

I miss the days when picking up my camera and walking down the Quarters came so easy to me it felt like breathing. It seems like it was just yesterday the last time I walked out mu house just me and my best friend, well it kind of was just yesterday, if yesterday if a day was a year.

This past year has been so challenging and exhausting for me that even picking up my camera became hard, so she lays in the back of my closet in a bag picking up dust and buried under piles of other projects.

And although I can see the light at the end of this very dark year-long tunnel, it is still so far it is just a little dot in the distance, the dot gives me hope and forces me to walk even faster to reach the other side, maybe once I am out my camera and keyboard wont feel as heavy as they do now,  and I can enjoy the simple act of taking a photo or writing a post.



Two Cities, Two Streets


Just about one year ago, we found each other working on our first collaboration, a blog post called Two Cities, Two Bridges. We set a date, a time and place, each in our respective cities and we picked our favorite bridge…you see we kind of have a thing for bridges, we like taking photos of them. The post received a great response, and it wasn’t too long before we thought about working together again. One probably drunken night, we came up with the idea of shooting Canal Street, the same idea behind last years project, but with a different subject matter, since both cities share streets of that name. We decided to choose 5 photos that in a small way represented what Canal Street is all about, both in New York and in New Orleans. We hope you all enjoy our selection, or that at least this post inspires you to come visit our cities.


So here we are again, about a year ago Robert and I found each other thanks to the magic of WordPress, and right away respect and love for each others work developed and of course the desire to work together no matter the distance. Last year we published our first collaboration, Two Cities, Two Bridges, with a great response from everyone, and of course we are back at it again. I love New Orleans, that is no secret, and I love New York, so what better way to express that love by showing off Canal Street! Something that both cities have in common beside that word New in their names. While in New York, Canal is a chaotic commerce center where Chinatown and Little Italy come together. Here in New Orleans Canal is where the French Quarter’s meet the Central Business District (CBD), where old meets new, and life becomes history. You can see how the industrial revolution and the 21st century took over by just crossing the street, leaving narrow streets meant for horses and wagons behind to be replaced by modern architecture and businesses. Colonial houses become straight line glass buildings, but 100 years do not seem that long ago. A lot happens along Canal Street in New Orleans-restaurants, shops, doctors offices and hotels all in one strip, the 9-5 workers give way to the erratic night life that starts where Bourbon meets Canal, in a never ending circle of ‘regular’ vs ‘eccentric’. Definitely Canal is one of the best examples of how New Orleans traditions adapt to the modern world, how we work hard but still know how to have fun, and how this wonderful community remains up to date with the changing world but never leaving behind what makes us New Orleans.




First let me say what a thrill it is to be working with Soranny once again. She remains one of my favorite photographers, and I urge you to check out her other posts and her Instagram. She does a wonderful job capturing her love for New Orleans through her camera lens. You really feel the sense of life in her shots. Canal Street in Manhattan is an interesting place. Historically it was built over a poorly considered canal downtown. In time it became the early location of the jewelry trade, before becoming more of the commercial district it is today, full of vendors selling ‘genuine’ Ray Ban sunglasses and Gucci handbags. Canal Street also divides the neighborhoods of Little Italy and Chinatown, which provides a great cross-section of cultures to soak in. Having only 5 photos to choose from, it was impossible to showcase all of my walk on Canal Street. What I did come up with were some of my favorite things I saw that day-old buildings and signs, different cultures and people. That is a cool thing that happens when you explore a street like Canal-everything comes to life-sight, sounds and smells. I enjoyed seeing such a well known street through my camera lens, and I hope you enjoy it too. Here are my choices-

Here’s Robert and a Canal Street sign in New York-


And Soranny with a selfie and a Canal Street sign in New Orleans



Follow My blog-

Follow Me on Instagram- @soryely_photo

Follow Robert on Facebook-

Follow Robert on  Twitter-

Follow Robert on Instagram-

All Photographs By Robert P. Doyle and Soranny Martinez

Feel free to like, comment or share!! XOXO


My life has change, my life has given a 180 degree turn,I didn’t ask for it, trust me I didn’t,  I was happy, I was truly happy, I loved my house, my job, my little world, the weird bubble I was living in, but the bubble was popped, and here I am, standing in the middle of the nowhere but surrounded by people, working hard to solve a problem that is not mine but to which I have the solution to, losing all I worked for, what I dreamed about, for the greater good.

But is it really worth it? Is it wort it to sacrifice my present happiness for the probability of a better future, not only mines but others? I guess only time will tell, and I’ll just have to wait.





I am angry…

I am allowed and entitle to be angry, so I will be angry and I will be proud.

I am sad…

I am allowed and entitle to be sad, so please don’t tell me not to be and let me cry for however long I want to.

I am scared…

I am allowed and entitle to be scared, so let me fear and I promise I will conquer it.

I will be happy…

Because just like I am allowed to be angry, sad and scared, I am also allowed to be happy, and no emotion is permanent.




Please feel free to like, comment or share.



Why is my blood canary yellow?

I was born in 1988, which means I was an 80’s baby, a 90’s kid and a 2000’s teen, I am part of what we now know as Generation Y or Millennials  (thanks Wikipedia for the information). I’ve lived 2.5 decades, the changed of a century and the changed of a whole millennium, remember New Years eve 1999 when we all went crazy because the world was going to end one way or an other? Gosh we did have a hundred and one theories on how the world was going to end that night, I lived out the awkward silence at the end of the 3,2,1 because everyone waited a few seconds to yell out HAPPY NEW YEAR,  you know they had to make sure the world wasn’t ending before kissing their significant other or hugging grandma.

I also lived and still am living through what I like to call the earth’s change from analog to digital, my generation was the first generation to have access to computers in their homes, to own a tiny cell phone, y’all remember the Motorola RAZR in hot pink?, we were the first generation to use the power of the internet to do our homework (you know before the professor could notice if you copied and pasted it with the click of a button). But ours was also the last generation to pick playing outside over having your eyes glue to a tablet, last ones to have only one phone line at home, some people don’t even have one at all anymore.

I also believe our generation was in some way more respectful of others, it is funny how I found myself saying “This upcoming generation it’s just plain disrespectful” last night, and I looked at myself and though “oh lord I have become my mother”. Last night as I’m getting home from my daily bike ride , I was about two houses away, I hear a car behind me as every polite biker would I moved myself to a side to allow the car to pass me, and then I hear a pop followed by an other pop and a sharp pain on my butt, I heard the car accelerate and pass me, as the passed by I saw the silhouette of a gun. I automatically panicked, I had been shot, so I put my hand on my butt and it feels wet, I closed my eyes as I got ready for the worse and then open them to look at my hand, huh why is my blood canary yellow?

I had in fact been shot, with a BB Gun!!!! I walked to my from steps, had a seat and then I broke down crying, I was alive, no bullet stuck in butt cheek, sure my favorite yoga pants are now fucked by a big yellow stain and I have a bruise the size of an orange on my left cheek, but I am perfectly fine. I thought about calling the police, but I had no distinctive remarks about the car or the kids, so what good would that be? All that is left to do is to be thankful that it was nothing major, go inside try to clean my pants, take a shower and go to sleep, but as I am going all these all I can think is “Where are these kids parents?”

Of course I cannot blame the parents completely for this, kids lie, kids do things behind their parents, kids are easily influenced by other kids, that does not mean that the parent is doing a bad job. But I feel that this generation has no respect for other, they don’t care about hurting others and are also less afraid of getting in trouble over all. I understand change, and I get it the world evolves and every generation is different, but I believe this generation is losing touch with was morally and humanly correct, so I can’t help but to wonder where and when did we go the opposite way on distinguishing whats right and wrong? What’s your openion?

Feel free, to like, comment and share!!!


Bayou St. John 

It is amazing how the city can disappear around you, if you just concentrate on the trees, the ducks that are starting to migrate to the warmer weather and the breeze touching your skin, the cars, the buildings,the noises of city life banishing away, it’s just you and your thoughts for a moment, until is just you and the earth and nothing else, and nothing matters and you are free, and in that moment you feel nothing but complete pure happiness.

Happy Mardi Gras

It is Mardi Gras season and I am loving it! Although the season started on Jan 6 this weekend marks the beginning of the major festivities and it also happen to be the weekend one of my closets friends (we call each other cousins) came to visit! So as you can guess was beyond happy! I was unable to take Saturday and Sunday off from work, but I was lucky to get Thursday and Friday and spend it with her and her boyfriend, and it was a weird, crazy, wonderful weekend.

Let me tell you a little about how the last few days have been, it all started on Wednesday when I went for a drink with my roommate. I’m sitting at the bar drinking my Abita, when I awkwardly locked eyes with the man sitting two stools from me, it was so awkward we had no other option but to say hi to each other, that hi turned into a conversation and that conversation ended with me telling this stranger and his friend “my cousin is coming from Miami tomorrow, ya’ll should join us for brunch” and exchanging numbers.

The next day I pick up my cousin from the airport and head to Mid City for brunch, not to long after we sat down at our table I look to the door and TADA!!!, the strangers from the bar had made it to brunch! We ate, we drank, we talked, it was great! We meet the owner of the restaurant and all!! After brunch we took the streetcar back to the Quater’s for more day drinking, window shopping and  Nola exploring, followed by a  well deserved nap, and then came the night and more drinking, bar hopping and bead catching on Bourbon Street.

The next day we wake up go for lunch, which was delicious, and hit the WWII museum (photos coming soon!), the strangers from last night hit us up again asking what was the plan for the night, after having some yummy coffee and macaroons at SUCRE, and catching a parade on St. Charles St. we head back to Frenchmen St in the Quarter’s for more partying, somehow we ended up on a balcony on Bourbon, without having to pay anything, asking all the people down in the street to show us their boobs for beads, this is not only illegal, but as New Orleanean now I find it to be annoying, but I am partying with a group of tourist so I let them get as many boobies as they can.

Some how I forgot I worked at 7 am the next day, so there I was 3:30 am asking if anyone wanted to go get some wings with me, some how I made it home for a nap before a 12 hours shift. While I was at work my cousin and the strangers went once more to brunch and exploring, before they left back to Tennessee.  I met up with them both Saturday and Sunday after work for dinner and drinks, all after working 12 hours each day, which puts my number of hours slept since Wednesday at about 30 in total. My weekend ended with me taking these photos with a random stranger at a bar Monday at 4 am!

Now is back to normal and to boring, but I am so happy this weekend when the way it did, this is a story I can now add to my book of crazy things I’ve done, like that one time me and my cousins got in the wrong car because it look like ours.

What crazy stories  do  you have?

Feel free to like, comment and share!!



Bye random dude

As many of you might know if you’ve read my previous posts I’ve been actively dating for the last two years or so, I’ve been single for about six years now and once I moved to New Orleans I decide to give dating a try since I never really did it when I was back in Miami, mostly because I had my friends and family who entertained me 24/7, but once I moved to New Orleans I didn’t have that any more and I though it was a good opportunity to actually give it a try.

I’ve tried online dating, I’ve tried dating dating, I’ve tried take that random dude from the bar home dating, and yes I’ve had a few short relationships develop from all the game, and some of them actually pretty intense, but I have yet to find someone I like enough not to send packing or that likes me enough not to run away once they realize I’m crazy (I blame that on me being Hispanic and we leave it at that).

Any ways in the last few months I have been come apathetic to the whole dating thing, specially the online part of it, most of my online accounts have already been deleted by lack of usage, but from time to time I go on Tinder because 1. I love a free meal and 2. it can be funny. So this week I matched with some random and we set up a date for Friday.

As you all know I decided for the new year Friday afternoons are going  to be for me and me only, but since he was being nice and asked me out I decided to go on a date with him, but comes Friday and things got complicated, I got off work much later than I was expecting, my mother asked me to help her out with some stuff, plus I was 2 hours stuck in traffic! When I saw that things were just not going the way I had planed them, and maybe 2 hours before our set up time I texted him asking for a rain check, and told him how sorry I was it was so last-minute, but he though I was lying to get out the date, so here I was trying to explain myself to a complete estrange and make him believe I was not just looking for a way out, I was actually looking forward to the date.

At some point during the “I call bullshit on you” interaction I realized that I didn’t own him such an extensive explanation, like the fuck dude I don’t know you and I honestly do not care what you think the reason  for me to change plans is, I am being honest and apologizing for the fact that I can’t make it, also asking to reschedule, and you want to make me feel guilty and bad about the fact that shit doesn’t always go as plan, hell no! So I unmatched him and went on with my Friday free of guilt, helped my mother with what she needed and went home early enough start reading a new book and to go to bed at a decent time, I am actually happy I cancelled.

Dating is way to complicated at times, the way I see it shouldn’t though, you meet someone if you like them and want to spend time with them then you do and if not then you don’t, but people always want to put these expectations on your shoulders that you can’t carry, other times they are not clear on what they are looking for and lead you to be the one placing all the expectations on them, and if they aren’t met we make the other person feel guilty about the fact that some times shit does not go as plan or as we like it to be.

I honestly don’t even get upset anymore, I just go with the flow and try not to care, of course it doesn’t always work, but at least I am not online acting crazy with someone who doesn’t know me and no one is writing blog post about how psychotic I am.