Throw me something, mister

For as long as I can remember, Mardi Gras has been a major event in my life. Every year while growing up, I would anxiously await the dozens of parades at the end of January or beginning of February. My love for Mardi Gras, pronounced "mah-dee grah," probably comes from having lived in two of the cities where the holiday is most celebrated: New Orleans, La., and Mobile.

I was born in New Orleans, where Mardi Gras is considered more than a holiday; it's an integral part of the culture. Thousands of people crowd the streets in search of goodies, booze and a good time. Anonymous men and women in elaborate costumes throw necklaces and coins at a crowd that pulsates with excitement, screaming, "Throw me something, mister," and pushing each other for a strand of cheap, plastic beads.

One of my earliest memories is of sitting in a homemade stand - a ladder with a bench on top - while my dad caught anything that came our way. I still have a tiny stuffed bear, complete with a red, checkered dress and bow, in a box at my house. It's just a bear, but the memory that is attached to it means a lot to me, especially now that I'm grown and live far from my parents.

I only lived in New Orleans for five years, but Mardi Gras became a part of me. I loved how everything in the city would shut down for a one- or two-week long celebration.

I especially loved the King cake, a sugary concoction in which a small, plastic baby is hidden to be found by someone eating it. The person who finds the baby buys the next cake. You haven't lived until you've had a genuine King cake, which is only in stores around this holiday.

My family moved to Texas after living in New Orleans, where Mardi Gras was a holiday celebrated by few. After another brief stint in Louisiana, my family moved to Mobile, where Mardi Gras originated.

While not as big of a party as a New Orleans' Mardi Gras, Mobile parades are some of the best I've seen. A couple of years ago, my aunt and uncle joined a Mardi Gras crew, further cementing my love for the celebration. Once you have a connection to the inside, it's hard not to love the holiday and everything that goes with it.

Every year, for weeks in advance, my uncle prepares for a single parade. Bags upon bags of multi-colored beads litter his living room floor and the front foyer is stacked with stuffed animals. My uncle says his favorite part of the parade is giving stuffed animals to children, especially those who are disabled.

For the past few years, I haven't been able to participate in Mardi Gras. Work, school and a number of other responsibilities have kept me from one of my favorite holidays of the year.

But this year, in a miraculous turn-of-events, the parades have been pushed up, and I will be able to attend my uncle's parade next weekend. I can't wait to be standing in the crowd, pushing and screaming with the other crazy people in the hope of catching a few beaded necklaces.

I hope if you get a chance, you'll make the short drive to Mobile and join in on the fun. I warn you though, once you participate in Mardi Gras, you'll be hooked for life.

Megan Honeycutt is the assistant managing editor of The Crimson White and a junior majoring in journalism.