But boy do I love those Saints right now.

For those of you that know a little about me, it makes sense that if I were to root for any NFL team, it would be the Saints. Born in Louisiana, it didn’t matter that I moved to Texas at five, and then Ohio at the age of seven – there was no way I was going to become a Bengals fan. As much of my family are die-hard LSU fans, many are die-hard Saints fans, even when they were the Aints. But for me, a mostly non-fan of the NFL, my Saints’ fandom was sparse, more of a check-in here and there to make sure they were still out there, still kicking. Besides, they don’t really show Saints games in Ohio.

But today, the Saints are playing in the Superbowl. And I am a fan. I am even throwing a party, my first Superbowl party ever, complete with gumbo and king cake. Last year, I fell asleep on the couch during the big game. This year, I will be rooting until the very last seconds, because those Saints have a way of coming back when you least expect it.

Just like the people of New Orleans have since Katrina.

I wasn’t in Louisiana for Katrina, and fortunately, most of my family escaped unscathed, except for some power outages, downed trees, a flooded apartment and drowned car. My family was all safe. But all these years later, not just post-Katrina, but years and years after I left the state that I called home, I still get a tingly feeling thinking about how a football team has brought back the spirit to a city that was drowning, a city that was crying out for help, for someone to save them.

And the Saints came marching in.

When I see my family rallying around this team, when I see the packages on ESPN with Bourbon St. revelers, jazz in the background, Harry Connick Jr. and other NOLA natives choking up over this special moment, it hits me right smack in the middle of my heart. It’s like they say in the movies, with a twist: you can take the girl out of Cajun country, but you can’t take the Cajun out of the girl.

The Saints may win today, and they may lose. Tomorrow, my thoughts may already be on baseball’s spring training and my Cubbies. But for today, I am enthralled by the spirit of the Saints, and the spirit of the people that love them for bringing life back into their city.

Update: The Saints win their first Superbowl!! Who dat!!

This isn’t about the gumbo though. Julia is also a writer, and we often talk shop on different ideas, writing styles, and the like. I even shared with her a story I wrote in high school that was a hit with my family (and that also helped me earn class credit for my college application) called Cajuns, Crabs and Comfort. What was great about Monday night was going back to where we both began as writers.

I shared with her my two Young Authors books, these little stories some students would write as a library project in elementary school. You would write a short story, illustrate it, and moms would come in to type them up and bind them. My second grade story was about my first dog, Rocky. A year later, I modeled a story The Babysitters’ Club series, naming the girls in my “job-care club” after my cousins, drastically improving upon my illustrations, and using big words and lengthy dialogue. Julia had a good time ribbing me about these books, but it was funny to think of how far I’ve come as a writer. I keep those books because they are a reminder of where I started – of my first achievements. I also still have my first-ever published article- a story about my neighbor who served in WWII, and that was one of 6 student stories chosen to be published in the local paper. Julia and I both knew we wanted to be writers at the age of four or five, and except for us each having a slight detour of the imagination in high school down another career path, we’ve stuck with that dream ever since.

Now, we’re both working in online communications at a non-profit. It may not be exactly where we envisioned ourselves, but we’re still writing. And we both know that someday, we’ll be doing what we always thought we’d be doing on a more full-time basis. Julia hopes to write children’s books, and I hope to write a book and maybe be a writer for a magazine.

There was a time when I couldn’t rest from writing poetry and fictional stories. I wrote fake newspapers about my family and stories for my cousins. I wrote endless lists of the titles of the books I was someday going to write. Of course, much of this was when I was younger, and didn’t have a job, or a boyfriend, or other things I was involved in. But, everytime I look at those little bound books on my shelf, I remember where I came from, and remember that my bio from back then still rings true: my favorite food is still macaroni & cheese, I still love baseball, and I still want to be an author when I grow up.

Where did you begin?

Well tonight I was reminded of that question. It wasn’t from a teacher or a counselor or even a prospective employer. It was from a friend, but it was right on. I’m at a point where I’m learning my way around in my profession, at my place of work, in this city, in my relationships. There are plenty of people just a few years older than me that are the “go-to” for a particular subject – because they own it and know it inside out and they have really made a name for themselves on it. I can say I know a lot about corgis, or Cajun cooking, or Jane Austen books or Frank Sinatra, but I’m still trying to figure out what that one interest area is that I want to work on for years and years as a job, as a passion – that people will come to me for. We all want to be recognized for something we know, right?

What is the area you feel you want to be the go-to for? What will you do to get to that point?