“I’m Gonna Set Your Flag on Fire”: Love in the Time of Mardi Gras

Hi! I’m flying somewhere over the Pacific Ocean right now.

In the meantime, Slauditory agreed to write a guest post. You all should be reading her if you’re not. She does book reviews, style photos, hilarious dating stories, and more. Oh, and she’s extremely talented and was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. (!!!!)

Mardi Gras means something different for everyone. For tourists, it’s a time to let loose, to drink on the street, and to show what their mamas gave them to old dudes on the street. For locals, it’s a time to connect with community and party on the streets–our streets. For me, it’s about glitter and glamour, crossing boundaries and disrupting routines.

The parades trundle by, the neon lights casting shadows on the riders’ faces as they lean out of the floats and grin at the crowd. The horses shove their noses over the barriers and children dance back, laughing, but a little scared. The marching bands send vibrations through every body; the drums catch the beat of our hearts and the tubas rumble in our bellies. Like the smoke from the flambeaux, wildness hangs in the air.

More than ten years ago, I fell in love at a parade. Endymion was rolling. My best friend and I were supposed to go to the parade together and to our friends’ party on the route afterward. For whatever reason, she had to cancel. She asked another friend of ours to go with me, since I was seventeen and I didn’t want to go to the parade by myself. He agreed.

My aunt relaxed and styled my hair that day. I felt so pretty. (This was before my natural hair revolution.) When D. came to pick me up, my hair flowed down my back. Strands of it floated in the breeze from his rolled-down car windows as we sped toward the parade route. The night was so warm that I could wear a tank top. I chattered away at him the whole time. When we got the parade, he took my hand, saying something like, “I don’t want us to get separated or for you to get lost.”

I don’t remember the specifics of what he said because right that second, my heart cracked open and love rushed throughout my body. I was buoyant with love. I didn’t notice the elbows, the leering drunks, or the lit cigarettes in my path. All I saw was him, my friend, the man I wanted to make mine one day.

I surprised myself with this; feelings had been piling up inside of me for months, yet I only noticed them when they broke free. The lawlessness of the night allowed it to happen.

Not that night, but months later, I made him mine. That relationship ended many years ago, but it was brilliant and magical, just like the night when I realized I loved him. Everything started with a break from the ordinary.

When I think about Carnival time, I think about leaving ordinariness behind for a few weeks. I also think about falling in love. The weeks before Easter are rife with possibilities. I can’t wait to feel the electricity in the air again.