very random gratuitousness

1. Brigitte

2. Maureen

3. Liz

4. Angelina*

5. Cyd

6. Edie
7. Tess


8. Raisinface


9. Nastassja

*happy birthday

unused shoes

I have an addiction to buying shoes on sale...shoes I end up not wearing.


As you can see, I have at least 4 versions of the same shoe, sort of a driving shoe. It's always hot here, so in the summer (and much of the rest of the year) one must wear shorts. It's a dilemma. I usually wear some horrible slip on sandals which are truly heinous...ok, maybe just heinously boring.

I've bought others, nice ones, but they end up chafing (because I walk a lot), and the leather soles get smelly. The ones I wear now have a rubber sole, and don't get so smelly.

All of these shoes have been bought with the idea of replacing the wearing of my tacky sandals. None have worked.

I've tried wearing the Sperrys (right bottom) a few times, but it felt as though my feet would suffocate. The green suede Converses I've only recently started wearing...now that they are vintage (ok, 5 years old).

The others, I don't wear.

None of these driving shoes really fit well, though I like the idea.
The Rockports (upper left) once gave me blisters after walking 100 feet from my car to my door. No lie. They've never been worn since (though they are waterproof and washable, so they say).
I bought those white ones because I hate white sneakers. They're acutally very comfortable, and I've worn them a few times, but I always feel like a hypocrite wearing them.

It's one of my fashion pet peeves....big white sneakers.
So of course I bought some, in the theory that anything I loathe that much needed to be tried at least once, right?

dinner with dad:

Me: "You see any oil out there the other day?"

Him: "A light sheen, but they were still biting."

Me: "Catch any?"

Him: "Just one...little....but I did see the president. His helicopter flew right over the boat."

Me: "No kidding?"

Him: "Yeah. Bastard scared off the rest of my damned fish too.
Pass me that ketchup..."

Roto-ruta

It's Ruta Lee's birthday, I see by way of dlisted.
74, can you believe it?

Who is she again?
Oh yeah, I can hear her voice echoing again
in my childhood mind right now.


Anyway, I'm bored. It's raining.
I'm trapped in, but too lazy to write.

If you like a bit of porn and a bit of non porn you can visit my
goldenfleecing until the Ruta Lee holiday is over.

archandroid

I just bought Janelle Monae's newest cd, Archandroid, which is, for lack of a better word, a "concept album."
God bless her.
I love how varied it is.

This seems to be on its way to being the single, but it's not my favorite.



This is one of my favorites:




I'm not sure, but I have a suspicion that dear little Janelle's
batshit crazy, and I love it.

The 14 people you meet in hell gay groups

1. The high drama lesbian:

e.g.: 20 something. Dressed in husky boys' plaid shorts, flip flops.
Walking with a cane, post-drunk driving accident and brain surgery.
Product of Evangelical family from trailer park. Responds to all topics
with the same response: her three suicide attempts.

Quote: "So I was
like on the phone to my ex when I walked up in the room. There she was, my best
friend since I was like thirteen. Awn duh floor, dead. Bra pulled up over huh
head and firecrackers up in her ass...and dat's when I just started fallin'
out....you know?"

2. The Twelve stepper:

e.g.: 60 year old, Southern accent, Magnetic bracelets on both wrists. Magnets in his soles and in his bedsheets. Newly retired social worker, funny, but prone to having violent outbursts when flashing back to his coke days.

Quote: "Sheesh, as many times I passed out driving, I ought to be dead."

3. The Rice queen:

e.g: Tom Bosley look-alike with a hearing aid that looks like it has an erection.

Quote: (pick up line to an Asian) "So,
you're Asian. Oooo...you better watch out, I love them Asians!"

4. The Adorable lesbian couple:

e.g.: A. 60 something former nun/nurse. B. 50 something comedienne with 23 year old son.

Quote: "We're having a potluck. You should come!"

5. The Gay male couple (who look like twins):

e.g.: A. 40ish, with goatee, dressed in Banana Republic. B. 40ish, with goatee, dressed in Banana Republic.

Quote: "Seven years ago, can you believe it? Match.com." (in unison)

6. The Gay male couple (who do not look like twins):

e.g.: A. soft spoken retired elementary school teacher, tall and skinny.
B. soft spoken church organist, short and pudgy.

Quote: "Oh, dear. I just hope Lula isn't clawing the doors again. We just had them refinished. Cherry wood."

7. The Lesbian academic:

e.g.: 60 something, steel gray hair, Sierra Club t-shirt, recently laid off philosophy professor.

Quote: "Oh, actually, I was raised a Quaker..."

8. The Musclehead:

e.g.: 30 something, shaved head, burned to a crisp, squeezed into an Old Navy polo. Twelve Stepper is convinced he's an addict who is casing the joint.

Quote: "...."

9. The New Age stereotype:

e.g.: 50 something lesbian, big bottomed, flowy Chicos blouse, men's black slip on loafers. Art and "drum" "therapist." Nods in affirmation at everything. No discernible sense of humor. Living breathing Saturday Night Live sketch.

Quote: [re: SF) "Oh, that's where my ex is. She won't return my calls. I don't understand. I'm going out there to burn a sage stick this summer to bring some clarity to the situation, you know?"

10. The Teenager:

e.g.: 18ish, tall, skinny, bangs covering his face. Bored. Texting furiously.
Quote: Couldn't read his texts. Sorry.

11. The Asshole:

e.g.: tall, goodlooking, cocky, challenges everything, whether it needs challenging or not.

Quote:"Um...that wasn't the question, man."

12. The Black quy:

e.g.:40 something straight acting, looks like a Walmart manager. Doesn't talk much.

Quote: "Yeah, today's been hot."

13. The Snarky One in back

e.g.: quiet, but snarky, (me) with a stupid crush on The Asshole.

Quote: "oh, really....that's so interesting..."

14. The Queen:

e.g.: 30 something, overweight, very tan, Abercrombie and Fitch shirt. Very friendly. Flamingly gay. Has a 10 year old daughter. Queens always have 10 year old daughters.

Quote: "Girl, did you hear her? Bitch told that same tired suicide story
three times already. Lawd."

news break

I'm listening to Larry King's corpse drone on and on in the background when I look up and see someone listed as Philippe Cousteau, Jr., grandson of the Jacques (naturally)

He's talking about something (oh, is there an oil spill then or something? Gosh.), but all I can think of is: "omg. dreamy!"

finders keepers

Coach purse sitting in lost and found for two and half months....complete with inkstain, 23 cents in change and pristine Tampax Pearl (tm).....



Now mine, all mine!

country

This weekend I took a little trip deep into the heart of Acadiana, Grand Coteau more specifically, where people speak French and the air smells of sweet green grass
and pork fat.
Idyllic.

View from the window of my cell, taken through the window screen.



Cows, out back

Cemetery, which made me re-evaluate my position on fake flowers. Something about seeing them en masse was beautiful.

Still life with Confederate flag and solar light: even the confederates are going eco-friendly.

LSU cup/grave vase.

in other words, Louisiana personified.

Jesus of the Water Tower.


The last supper, engraved and painted in factory baked auto enamel.

The church



Tombstone from the sad days before polychrome laser-engraved Last Suppers


My room in the asylum. college. Creepy no?

Boudin



Sweet dough pies from Breaux Bridge.


A specialty of Grand Coteau called Gateau Na Na, a sort of tart with a buttery crust and praline filling, that I'd never had before. I think the sugar content must have affected even my camera.

Victim of Boudin, c. 1861

what it's all about

Menage a Cat

I saw this photo at 8 am this morning, and I've still not recovered. Not sure I ever will.
It's allegedly two French felines twins, and I couldn't help but wonder all morning long what would happen if...

+

= ?

eeeeuuuuh

a walk in the park

Yesterday, to clear my mind, after the morning's flooding rains....three feet of water in front of my home, car flooded yet again...(ahem).....I decided to take a long walk in City Park.

I took the camera and a (n empty) backpack, hoping someone would mistake me for a German exchange student, or at least a tourist from Little Rock. It didn't happen, but I still had to take a few photos to keep the illusion up.


Ducks

From the bridge

A fairly new sculpture. I remember watching the artist working on it last year or so. It's encrusted with all sorts of broken pottery shards.

just more of my bitching

A few weeks back, I had yet another one of my infamous blind dates. He was a nice looking guy, a bit older than me, fun, well off, local.
We met for coffee, had a nice enough conversation about the topic all men my age seem to talk about with the fervor of teenagers talking about sex: real estate.

Much like sex, however, it's a topic I have very little to contribute to, but I'm a very good audience. Sad.

Anyway, it was a nice enough time, and we made plans to meet again.
A week or so went by and I happened to see some of his work in a shop. He's a craftsman of sorts, so I wrote to compliment him on it. He wrote back...finally. He asked if I'd like to meet again for dinner. He suggested a place and invited me over to see his house. Now let me bore you with a series of emails:

Him: Yes, I have alot of work ahead of me this weekend, plants arrive this Friday!!!!
See you tomorrow
Sent from my iPhone

Him: Great, I live not too far from there (restaurant we were supposed to meet at) so just come over to my house first....000 _________ st.
I have a friend there whose friends with the nursery owner. It's only less than 3 hours drive, well worth it, my plants come Friday in a 24 foot truck!
Sent from my iPhone

Him: hey I'm going to the airport to pick up a friend at 6:15, I should be back in time, his car is at my house. Call or text me before u leave. 000-0000
Sent from my iPhone

Him: Jason, his plane is already 1 hour late so I will need to cancel, sorry I'm such a loser!! Asshole was supposed to come back tomoorrow
Sent from my iPhone

Me:
Hey_____,
That's cool. Maybe sometime later?
Gee, you're an awfully good friend. Hope he appreciates it. :) j.

Him: very rarely do airport runs....but I needed his suburban to move
plants from my mothers to my house...needless to say I fell asleep last night at
8 out of exhaustion...thanks, sorry again....his plane is still sitting in the
fort Lauderdale runway.....

Me:
Hey,
That's all right. No big
deal Hope you get some rest. Sounds like you need it. Let me know if you'd like
to try to reschedule sometime. It'd be good to chat again.
later,
j.

Anyway, so, as you guessed it, I never did hear back from him.
Not another word.
Nada.

Ok, so all in all, comparatively, this date story is one of the most uneventful of my life, boring as it gets (no pedophile priest, no tracheotomy victim, no brain damaged male model, no...well, you get the idea...)
but the rejection still sticks in my craw (God, I love that expression).
I mean wtf...he can't even meet me for a second date? Would it be that painful?
Whatever.

It's gotten to the point that when I meet someone new, I try to figure out which new novel way I'll be rejected this time. It keeps me on my toes.
Still the cosmos always manages to surprise me.

the tea party birthday

So last night went was guilted into a birthday party for a former coworker, a 50 year old who wears plastic barrettes and lives with her parents in her childhood bedroom...with a guinea pig and an elderly poodle with a gimp leg.

She's a fervent teapartier who has a shrine to Ronald Reagan above the guinea pig cage and campaigned earnestly twice for Bush...and once for Palin. Now she campaigns for...uh... teabaggery.

But you knew that instinctively, right?

Her younger sister, 42 with the IQ of a 11 year old boy, catered the affair. She's actually a good cook, but likes to give all the dishes gross out names (artichoke balls = witches' warts) and announces everything with a snort.

The biggest fun of the night came from Dad's mumbled anti-Semitic "jokes" and the guinea pig shitting the floor compulsively.
Fun times.

Overheard: 11:15 am

Today in French:
"Hey, monsieur! Hey! How come we ain't gone
on a field trip?"
(student blurts in the middle of teacher's
[a tiny, elderly French elf] rambling, mumbling, incoherent "lesson"
"..."
(French elf twirls around on his little French-elf heels and looks confusedly)
"Yeah!"
(other student)
"We could have some French fries!"
(student excitedly)
"And get French tips!"
(other student, more excitedly)
"..."
(French elf turns back around, resumes mumbling)

every women's magazine ever made

Pretty much, right?

a list of boring things done today after work:

Came home, did my dishes

Tended to my little herbs, which are finally coming up from the seeds I'd planted. I have some chives, basil and cilantro. I've already almost killed them once, and they're only a few weeks old.

I'd gotten an unexplainable "envie" (as my grandmother would say) last night for banana pudding. I don't know why. I think it was probably a latent desire for Peenee's "Elvis's Banana Pudding" manifesting itself, who knows? It sometimes happens. Anyway, I should have used Elvis's recipe instead of the one I did. Still, it wasn't too bad, but not nearly as good as I've made it before. Not wanting to keep this evil thing in my house, I decided to take it over to my mother's. Spread the evil.




While there, she gave me some (unwanted) Japan plums, as we've always called them. I think they're really just plain old loquats. My aunt has a tree and always gives her some for me, remembering how when I was a kid I'd climb it and eat them till I was sick. Neither my mother nor I has the heart to tell her that in the decades since, I've kind of lost my taste for them. It's easier just to take them and photograph them.

Then she and I decided have dinner in Belle Chasse, which although only maybe 10 minutes away from her house, feels like a day trip. We had fried seafood, sitting on picnic tables in a screened in dining room, listening to Charlie Rich's classic:

Just like old times.

We figured it might be a long while till we'll be able to have seafood again.

The whole city seems to stink of oil tonight, but the Westbank particularly....and Belle Chasse even more so. I guess it's the hot wet oily wind blowing up from the gulf. It's all too depressing to contemplate.