pillow talk

Yes, this is a post about throw pillows.

Is what this blog has come to?  How did it all fall apart?
Whatever, life can't all be bitching and gratuitous male models, can it?


Anyway, as you can probably see, I have an addiction to cheap throw pillows from Target.
Is there help for this? Somehow they help me cope.

Being creative poor, however, whenever I see something there that strikes my fancy, I have to delay my gratification for a few months.
Almost inevitably, (but not always) a set of two find their way on the dusty jumbled end caps for me to find.

I imagine this is exactly how a heroin addict who's just scored a hit feels. 

After my most recent purchase, (Cher), I noticed something like a theme.
Each one was rather like a different diva....so now I've named them.

Oh my god, is this what I've become???  The man who names his pillows as if they're pets.....after divas!
Kill me now.

At least, I now have the bugle beaded pillow to die upon.

the Cher by Bob Mackie (Target Clearance-- after weeks and weeks of waiting})

the Laurie Partidge (Target clearance)

the Morticia Addams (Target clearance)

the Polly Magoo (My first post Katrina pillow purchase {Target clearance})

the Debbie Harry (Target retail {ouch})

the Oscar Wilde (Target clearance)

the Twiggy (Second post Katrina pillow purchase {Target clearance})

the Scarlett O'Hara (Target Clearance)

The Virgen de Guadalupe (from the Target in the suburbs of heaven {actually gift from John...stuffed with real rose petals!})

a tree...for me

So this Christmas, I decided to not put up Champagne Slim again.

Last year I festooned all 6 and a half champagne feet of him with 20,000 dollars worth of plastic dollar tree ornaments. It was like Christmas at Versailles here.
You know, the Versailles Trailer Park off of Interstate 10.

And no one even saw him.

Ah well.

This year I was too lazy to go up in the attic decided to go in a different direction:
no plastic at all. 
It's an all organic Xmas.

On a whim the other day, I bought a little tree from Whole Foods. 
She looked so cute.
After a bit of comparison shopping today, however, I realize now that WF had raped me....again.
Typical.
But well, my tree is free range, right?
I'm sure it is.
Whatever.

Today I pulled out a few of the smaller vintage glass ornaments (especially the little clip on birds) I could find without going up into the attic....and dressed it up with battery lights that cost as much as the tree.  

For some reason my landlord doesn't want me lighting candles on the tree or something.
Since no one will probably see this tree either (ahem),
I took some bad cell phone photos.

Champagne Slim

Just finished putting up my little Target Xmas tree...for first time in years. Why not, right? What the hell.

Actually, "Six and a Half Foot Champagne Slim" is how I dream of being referred to one day.

omen

What can it mean when you come home to find a switchblade
ominously perched at your threshold?



(a free knife for me, that's what.)

A walk to the P.O.

I had to drop my rent check in the mail today....and I need the exercise, so I took a short walk to the post office. Wanna come with me?

On the way out, the smell of pot is thick in the hall way.

What's this? Gosh, all these people on the bayou.  Wtf
Oh, it's the Boogaloo. Again?
No wonder there are so many white people around.

I love a parasol. I wish I had one. Damn it's hot out here.  But I know, boys can't carry parasols.

I just ate, but mmmm....blue crab beignets?
No, I ought not to. Let me get to the PO.

Lesbians. Wouldn't be midcity without the lesbians.

Horrible white people music.  Let's keep walking.

White people art. Let's keep moving.

Wow...doesn't this look like a Seurat??
 Let me take a picture.

Let it go, hippies. Let it go.

 

"Pressed Crab poboy with brie and candied bacon"?
 Hmmm....no.
Too much.

OMG. so cute...
OMG *so* badly dressed.
Sad sad sad.

Wouldn't be midcity without the aging hippies.

No comment

Oh, dammit, leave me alone!  Ok ok.
  Shrimp remoulade and fried green tomato poboy.

What I'm watching while eating.

Mardi gras indian for ...um..."atmosphere"

Why look....it's a parasol stand!
But boys can't have parasols.

Bitch.

On the plane

via

¡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.

my childhood bedroom....

Circa age 10 or so. Decorated by moi.
Good god I was am a fag.

till the cow comes home

The other day I rolled up the boring beige carpet I'd had for the past four or so years. I gave it a good vacuuming, a good beating...and a good washing with soap and water...and then I gave it to Goodwill.

I'd intended to put it back, all clean and fresh, but before it could even dry, my fickle heart saw something else.

I'd seen some cowhides on sale locally, and finally decided to break down and buy one. I'd even solicited my uncle to see if he could send me one of the hides of his own cows, but that proved to be foolishly complicated.
If only he raised zebras!

Anyway...I'd missed out on buying one (for cheap!) when I was last in Houston, and regretted it ever after. So I wasn't going to let it slip away this time. I managed to get 10 percent off too.

It's kind of like having a pet.



I call her Daisy.

impulse shopping

Today, having nothing better to do, I climbed into the car, put on my brand new Roisin Murphy cd and drove off aimlessly.
I ended up at Mcdonalds eating a happy meal...sans toy....a sad meal, if you will.

I debated taking myself to a movie, but decided not to....nothing I wanted to see, and why waste more money, right?

So instead I drove down to a consignment shop I'd been wanting to visit for a while.
I was overwhelmed by ugly art and ubiquitous fleur-de-lis (es?).

(not to be a heretic or anything, but Jesus Christ give the fleur de lis a rest already, ok, people? Sheesh.)

Even more bored and frustrated (never a good combination), I drove to another shop.

Quite of the spur of the moment, I decided to buy these two cane back chairs.

Two chairs I do not need.
But...then again...I rationalized...I have been wanting to get rid of the aluminum and light green upolstered chair I've had for the past 4 years for quite a while. It had only cost me 40 dollars at Target and is supremely comfortable...and it's in very good condition, but it just looks a bit cheap...and the green limits me.
The Italian saleslady's accent also seduced me. I'm a sucker for an accent. She even helped me bring them out.

I've been wanting something a bit more "classic", but not too much. These seemed to fit the bill. I like the natural wood and the cane matches the other wood furniture I have well...and they're in perfect condition.

So within 20 minutes I'd spent more money than I have in three months and they were in my car. They weren't cheap, but they were not too expensive.

I was happy to see that they both fit in my little car, but not so happy to see that they sort of crowded my little living room. I'm seeing what I can do to get them to fit.
I need an extra chair anyway (he tells himself)

Besides, I know that if I hadn't bought her partner, she'd have gotten lonely sitting in here all day alone. I know I would.

Three things from the last 30 minutes:

1.Netflix finally delivers a copy of "Little Ashes".
2.Found a dollar floating in the gutter.
3.New sex offender just moved into the neighborhood.

Things are clearly looking up!

o tannenbaum, etc.

This is my little christmas tree...well, not so little. It's almost 7 feet tall, but I put it on a table, to make it taller. It looks kind of like a big pipe cleaner, but I like it.

I bought it a few weeks ago when Target first put it out, because it was on sale. I I liked that it was so slender...and what they call "champagne" colored...kind of a slightly tarnished silver. There's no good reason for me to have wasted money on it, since no one will probably ever see it...no one ever visits really...but it cheers the place up for me at least.

My place is so small that I needed something thin. I've moved it everywhere I could think of in the place, but it didn't look quite right anywhere, so it's ended up in the corner....in a time out.

I've decorated it with just my old silver ornaments and a few white ones. I'd thought of buying new green and blue ones, but decided not to. Partially because I have no money left, and partially because it would probably be too busy. I have put all the blown glass icicles that I've stolen from my mother, however. We used to use them on the tree when I was a kid. They look like fancy swizzle sticks.

Once I brave her attic again, who knows what kind of stuff I may recover up there.

Just saw

the first roach in my apartment in three years.

Horrors!

Must be those dirty carpetbaggers from Colorado downstairs....or maybe Obama.

decoration

I found this Kennedy era book at a local book fair a few months ago, and had to buy it.
It's in near perfect condition and in both French and English.
I don't have a scanner and the plates are too big to scan anyway, so I resorted to taking really bad photos.
These really don't do the book justice. It really is beautiful.
I like to imagine Jackie poring over such a book, planning to redecorate the White House once she moves in.

The cover, chic, no?





Here's a home in America, geodesic dome and all. I wonder if it still exists?

Another home in "le sud ouest américain"

a glimmer of the soon to be Victorian revival of the later 60s? Who knows.

ding dong, the witch is dead!

The (second) best thing to happen this past new years eve is that my most colorful neighbor, the howler, moved away. No more bone chilling caterwauling for 48 straight hours.
Yes!

Ever since, however, I'm ashamed to admit, I kind of miss her.
Yes.
It's true. I find myself howling under my breath sometimes. Such is life, I suppose.

One thing I definitely miss about her is, however, is how she used to maniacally keep the place clean. The place is constantly dirty now. The cleaning duty has fallen, by default, upon me, it seems. And I am a very poor substitute for her mania. (But no more god-damned Renuzit, that much I can tell you for sure)

When she vacated, I felt liberated! I could finally go out into the back garden without fear of trespassing. She had long treated the back as her personal haven. I was always too intimidated to venture out there. For a few weeks it was mine, all mine!

Once I was sure the coast was clear (it took a while to be completely certain she wasn't just hiding under the house waiting to pounce from behind the ferns), I decided to decorate the place a bit.

I planted a few seed packet herbs from the dollar store here and there. I stole some pots from my mother. The basil has thrived, the lavender and the cilantro, not so much.

Poverty is the mother of invention....or something like that....so I've had to be resourceful. I bought some 15 dollar chairs, and a few strings of deeply discounted paper lanterns, an outdoor mat (for another 15 dollars), made a bench and a little table, from things found in my neighbor's garbage, did a bit of painting with leftover paint...and here it is.

Of course, the sad thing is I haven't been out there at all since. It's too hot and, well, just too lonely to enjoy alone. To be honest, I get kind of sad sitting out there by myself.

I'd thought of having some people over, but again, it's still way too hot for that, and, you know, I'm still half afraid the howler is under the house waiting to pounce. You never can be too safe.