We Love Mardi Gras

A common cheer among softball players is, “just find a way kid.” It can┬ábe used when your teammate is up to bat, your pitcher is in a tight spot, or pretty much any other situation on the diamond. On the day before Fat Tuesday I discovered it can also apply to life.

As soon as the email was sent out with our schedule for the week you could hear groans from all over Thibodaux. 9 a.m. practice means nothing crazy the night before. Being the unstable teenage girls that we are, we found ourselves on our way to New Orleans anyway. Now I don’t mean to contradict my last blog post in any way. But this is why we all went to college away from home, to experience things we haven’t before.

Although it wasn’t our first Mardi Gras, it was our first parade. I can confidently say that Mardi Gras in New Orleans would give New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas a run for its’ money. The marching bands composed of kids of all ages and bloats of all colors justify why people come from all over the country to be apart of it.

Between my two roommates and I we probably had over 20 lbs. of beads. We were tucked in bed by 11 p.m. and showed up to practice 15 minutes early the next day just like everybody else.

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Sometimes you just have to find a way to live life.

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