Jun 28, 2011

family pictures



I found this the other day in the box of old family photos, nestled under yellowed wedding announcements and photos of my uncles in their football uniforms.

Irma must be a distant cousin, right?
This must be her first communion picture.

Jun 27, 2011

come as you are...


So....we're going on a trip to Seattle in a week or so.
Yeay!

Neither John nor I has ever been, so we're a bit clueless.

The chief attraction is that it's not hell on earth New Orleans in July.
Anything else, I figure, is gravy.

I've never been anyplace so far north, or so far west....or so far white.
I've been studiously studying what white people like to minimize the culture shock, but I'm not sure if that'll help.

Desperate for some help, I even posted an ad on the Seattle Craigslist.
Um...no, not like that. Jesus, you people have dirty minds.

Speaking of which, did you know that craigslist requires a phone number to make a post now? WTF
Very invasive. I'm sure I'll be bombarded with who knows what sort of crank phone calls now.


Thus far, no helpful Seattlite has responded to me, however.

I mean I expected at least one:
"Why don't you look on the internet, stupid bitch.
Do I look like the Chamber of Commerce?"
But not even.
ahem

So, any of you ever been up there?
What do you recommend, you know, after we've seen Starbucks?

Jun 26, 2011

Whose moon is in Uranus?

Mr. Aries

Señor Taurus

the Misters Gemini
Mr. Cancer

Sir Leo

Mr. Virgo
Mr. Libra
Mr. Scorpio

Mr. Sagittarius

Mr. Capricorn


Mr. Aquarius

Mr. Pisces

via goldenfleecing

Jun 24, 2011

¡Viva el sofa!



I won't go into the ridiculous melodramatic angsting that followed the horrible deeply traumatic desecration of my sofa a few weeks ago.....
again.

I've been earnestly shopping for a new one....and earnestly putting off the purchase of a new one....for two main reasons:

a. I haven't completely decided what I want yet.
b. I'm poor.

In the meanwhile, I've been decorating on a limited budget:
nothing.

I pulled out this blanket I'd bought in Mexico a million years ago when I was 11 or so, and
voila!
It's like Tijuana all in here now, y'all!

Maybe I'll get myself out on the street like a street urchin and hustle some peanuts and iguanas to fund this new couch. Couldn't hurt, right? Besides, a donkey show would ruin my drapes.

Anyway, right now I'm sooooo resisting the urge to hang a pinata...
but only just barely.

thought for the day



via goldenfleecing

In which a new character is introduced....

So it's a month till my next birthday...and well, I kind of have an announcement.
I have a boyfriend.
(Yeay!)

I've been loath to mention it here because, well, I'm afraid of jinxing things.
You know what kind of romantic (I use the word lightly) luck (I use that word even more lightly)
I have. Sheesh. You can't be too careful. Well, I can't.

But anyway, the gist is this: he's a really great guy.
I mean really.
He's handsome and talented and funny and artistic and smart and creative
and manly.
How'd I get this lucky?
I'm scared.
I mean how many men do you know who can fire a rifle like a sharpshooter, speak Russian like a student cosmonaut, dance like a black girl, sew like Edith Head, weld like Tuesday, drive a forklift like a longshoreman, move tanks like a general, renovate like a gay man?
And that's the short list.

He's a true renaissance man. It's crazy.

Anyway, henceforth he will be referred to by the...um...clever pseudonym, "John".
I just hope I haven't jinxed things by this indiscreet announcement.

Carry on.

Jun 23, 2011

LV

I saw one of these yesterday, parked at Burlington Coat Factory, and just couldn't help but imagine the lifestyle.
It's got to be so glamorous.


The house (Chanel chain link)



the pets


The his and her bathrooms

The luggage.


The high holidays
The paying the bills.

Jun 16, 2011

abracadabra



I have to apologize beforehand for unleashing this upon you, but it must be seen.
Unseeing it, however....um ...good luck with that.

via dlisted of course.

thought for the day

Jun 15, 2011

Failport



So I've never had a passport. Kinda embarrassing, yes, but it is what it is.
ahem
I'm going to France later this year.
(Yeay!!!!!! or whatever the equivalent is in French) and have been meaning to get one forever.
Finally I decided that my apprehension about things going wrong and the hassle of it all was just too silly.
"I mean really, jason, just do it! You're being ridiculous. It'll be easy," I kept telling myself.

First I managed through some difficulty to rustle up my original birth certificate, which thankfully escaped destruction by Katrina...but only barely.
Just in case I made copies of it.
A scavenger hunt through the library to three, count 'em three, broken copy machines, I managed to make a copy.

Next, the getting of the photos:

Me, sheepishly:
"Hi. I'd like to have a passport photo made."
Photo clerk:
"Sure! That'll be $79.99"
Me, opening my wallet reluctantly, with a distraught look on my face:
"Ummmmm...."
Him, grinning goofily:
"Oh, I'm just kidding! It's $9.99."
Me, mortified:
"Ahem Well, shows you how badly I want it, I guess."
Him:
"Ha, ha."

I waited for a good twenty minutes for him to make them.

Then I was on to the passport office:

Thankfully, I didn't have to work that day, since their convenient hours are Monday to Friday from 8 to 2 pm. (I mean really..wtf?)
I got there only to be discouraged by a long line. The clock ticked towards closing time,
2 pm. I left defeated.


Today, I took a good long breath, got myself up early, headed on down there again. I drove myself to the bank, got the cash I was told I needed to pay with.
I got there.
"Not too bad," I thought to myself. There were only four people waiting in the waiting room ahead of me.
I dutifully waited my turn.
Finally, I got to Deborah, the dour passport troll:

She asked for my photos (Thankfully I'd had them made elsewhere, since they no longer take them there):
"Oh, these are too small." She announces. "Someone wasn't doing their job! Where'd you go?
Me: "Walgreens"
Her: "The one up the street, huh?"
Me: "Yes"

She was right; he was too busy making up practical jokes.

Defeated again, I took myself back to Walgreens. I got them to retake them correctly this time.

This time the wait was thirty long minutes, thirty long minutes loitering around Walgreens...but at least they are the correct size this time.

By the time I get back to the passport office, it's lunch break.
(But you knew that already, right?)

A while later, I venture back. I have a one hour window of opportunity.
I take a seat. I wait my turn (Five people before me now, "not too bad," I repeat).
I watch the minutes tick closer and closer to 2 pm closing.
Finally it's my turn. The photos are the right size!
"Why's there an "s" here?" the troll barks.
She points to my birth certificate.
Seems my mother's maiden name is misspelled on my birth certificate. Who knew?
This passport troll is eagle eyed, and notices that I've spelled it differently (correctly) on the form. She eyes me suspiciously. I can't blame her.

I mean I'm sure that's how members of Al qaida infiltrate this country, by purposefully misspelling their mothers' maiden names on passports, right?

After I reassure her of my innocence, she does her thing, albeit interrupted by three walk ins...to whom she is even ruder than to me...and two phone calls.
Finally it's time to pay.
I inquire about using my credit card, but this is refused. I expected as much. I take out my wad of cash. She looks frustrated.
"You'll have to get a money order," she tells me brusquely.
"Huh?"
"A mon-ey or-der," she repeats, irritated by my ignorance.
The clock is ticking, and of course the money order printer refuses to work for the clerk when she's helping me. She's frustrated, but I'm sure it's my fault. Somehow, against all odds, I get the money order to the passport troll before the closing bell...and finally I can breathe.
I've been at this from 10 am till 2 pm. Good thing I didn't have to work, right?

By now, of course, now that I can breathe again, think again, I realize that I have a desperate need to pee. Ok, so I've really had to pee for the past two hours, but I've been too scared of losing my place to notice.
I rush to find a bathroom. Nope.
I chuckle to myself (gently, otherwise I'd piss myself) at the ridiculousness of it all and daintily get myself in the car.

I stop at a nearby store, hoping to find a bathroom. But you know the drill by now. I walk the whole store, but there's no bathroom. I venture to another store. Same story. I contemplate the potted plant, but decide against it.
I pull my bladder up into my thorax and somehow manage to drive home.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaanyway, I should be getting my passport and my original birth certificate in the mail in month or so, just in time for my birthday.

And that, of course, I'm sure will happen without a glitch, right? ahem

Jun 13, 2011

a few minutes ago...


On the way home tonight, what did I see?
None other than a circus train rumbling into town by the levee...Ringling Bros....the real deal...lions and clowns and elephants and all.
No time to take pictures, alas....and even worse, no time to run off with them either. Sucks.


(insert gratuitous shirtless circus men here to distract from lack of photos)

Jun 12, 2011

thought for the day



via

backlot backyard

On the way home last night, I noticed a fleet of big trucks and bright lights not far from my apartment. Immediately, I could tell it was a film crew.
It's a pretty common sight around here nowadays.
They've filmed three times in my little neighborhood, that I know of. Because I'm a curious sort nosy bastard
I convinced John to take a walk with me to get a better look. I hoped to catch sight of a celebrity in its own habitat again.
Unfortunately, all I got were these very bad photos.

Here's the inside of one of the trucks, used as a wardrobe room I think.

On the side of the house in which they were filming, they'd put up black out material with very bright lights inside of them, to simulate daylight I suppose.
When they filmed at the house across the street from me a few years ago, they'd actually built a two story backdrop outside of the kitchen window, with a painting on it.
This seemed much simpler than that.

In the car port was parked a small car sized air conditioning unit to pump cool air into the house.

(Dear Santa,
What I want for Christmas---a super high powered sub-arctic portable air conditioner the size of a Volkswagen.
Thank you.
Love,
jason)


I was too shy to ask what the movie being filmed was, but John chivalrously asked for me. Turns out it is the new "21 Jump St." movie!

(yeah, me neither)


Alas, we didn't hang around long enough to see Channing Tatum or Johnny Depp or Ice Cube... or anyone else of note.
(insert gratuitous picture of shirtless Channing Tatum to distract readers from poor photography skills here)

I passed by the house again this afternoon, but it was all gone already, like a mirage.
Poof.
No celebrities at all. Not a one. No one at all.
Though that one lady waiting on the streetcar did look suspiciously like Johnny Depp as played by Keith Richards.

Jun 9, 2011

post pool

Every couple of days I take my mother to physical therapy.
Post workout, she tells me about the folks she meets in the pool:

The 30 year veteran old fresh from Afghanistan:
"He says it's hotter here than there.
I believe him"

The 70 something wife of a state senator:
"They have money. They eat at all these places on the Eastbank, dontcha know.
Must be nice, huh? Pft."


The 25 year old who was in a car accident:
"She's just getting back to being able to walk a little. Her accident was like yours...just hit her in the end at a red light. You just don't ever know, you know? Makes me nervous just thinking about it."

The 60 year old black woman who worked at the P.O.:
"She says they have really good gumbo, you know at that place that used to be Elmo's? But I don't trust nobody's gumbo but my own."
Me: "me either."

The 50 something amputee:
"Lord! The waiting room was full of amputees! They were all over the place. It must have been amputee day in there, or something. I don' t know."

The 80 something former old ballet instructor:
"He said he used to dance with somebody....can't remember who."
Me (sneeringly): "what? Margot Fonteyn?"
Her: "Oh, yeah. That's it. How'd you know that!?"
Me (shut down): "wow."

thought for the day

via

Jun 7, 2011

How to have style (part 5)

1.Pay attention to detail

2. Big hair is slimming


3. Thriftiness can be chic

4. Maintain your complexion.


5. Posture, posture, posture!


6. Don't be afraid to be sexy.

7.Be a lady.

8.Fur is always in style.

9. Coordinate with your environment.

10.Cultivate an air of mystery.
via