Something I love about Carnival is how decentralized it is. You don’t need a ticket to enter some singular coliseum hosting THE Mardi Gras. You can’t pinpoint the festivities to a day, or a week, or a neighborhood. There’s not an official beer, or an official food (maybe king cake — though let’s not get started on all the variety there!), and — when a party lasts this long — everyone does it differently.
Some folks catch Muses and then fly far away to some tropical locale, while others host a dozen of their closest college friends. Some sleep on Saturday so they are fresh for the likes of Thoth and Bacchus, while others power through Endymion, Mom’s Ball, AND the Sunday parades before locking themselves in their house all day Monday. Everyone’s doing something Fat Tuesday, but whether it’s a bar crawl with St. Ann’s or going cuckoo for coconuts as Zulu rumbles by — Kevin Garnett says it best: