So.

Three years ago today, I lost my home, my job, my salary, my workplace, and everything I owned.

Though I was luckier than some...like the ones I knew who died.

Anyway, let's just hope this go round is better.

Overheard, 7:30 a.m.

"Hey, you know Tanisha* up in the hospital, right? She got hit last night at the party by that bullet."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that."
"Yeah, and Denise**, she got grazed in the top of her right leg."
"Yeah, I know."

"And did you see that dress Alicia had on? I mean, what was with that bow!?"
"Girl I don't even know."


(** former student
*fellow student)

The path of true love is never smooth...

From today's Craigslist's Missed Connections:

Corner Pocket - 25 (French Quarter)

---------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: pers-814327822@craigslist.org [m4m]
Date: 2008-08-26, 4:53PM CDT

A few weeks ago you were dancing on the bar and I tipped you $20. Had a call on my cell had to leave in a hurry came back late you were gone not many people there. They called you Josh from what I understand. Be back in two weeks and hope to stop in. Please email me if you can.

Location: French Quarter

I just woke up...

from a dream in which I found myself with hair like this:



All I could do was to stroke it, much as she seemed wont to do in photos.
Not much else I remember about the dream, but really would anything else matter?
Then I woke up.
Sucks.

"get confused"

Fischerspooner.



I found this tonight on Fabulon.
I like this better than most of their recent work. I love the flutes.

Trivia: I once touched Casey Spooner's (very nice, actually) ass.
It was encased in spandex. The concert was, I think, one of the best I've ever been to.

Trivia: I heard Fischerspooner earlier today at UAL (a high end TJ Maxx). I was trying on European sizes after having eaten a Chik-Fil-a sandwich, waffle fries and a chocolate milkshake.
I was insane.

The two hipster sales girls were debating whose song was playing.
They couldn't place it. I let them know. They were cute.

"I'm going to go to Subway, to get something," says hipster girl #1.

"To eat?" asks hipster girl # 2.

"Yeah"
"You're going to eat!?" hipster girl # 2 asks, incredulously.
"Yeah, I know." hipster girl #1 says with resignation.

does this count as incest?

I guess now that those communist spoil sports have outlawed cockfighting, people around here have to find something to do.
Read it here

Three details:
1.not once, but twice
2.Avondale.
3.Sissy?

"Holiday"

Tonight, in honor of her 50th, Dennis and I made a walk down to one of the several Madonna birthday parties at the bars. We didn't stay long once someone interrupted the groove with Britney. The best part was the 6'4" or so cross between Gene Anthony Ray and Magic Johnson in cootchie cutters. Dennis thought he was in costume, a la "Truth or Dare," but I see him dressed like that all the time. The glimpse of my seventy something ex-landlord escorting his twenty-something boyfriend back to the car was the most excitement of the night, sadly. I guess it could have looked almost like something from the "Deeper and Deeper" video...if you squinted hard enough.
Anyway, after that, we ended up at the Camellia Grill and had bacon and grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate cream pie at midnight, just like Madonna did I'm sure.

more unsolicited reviews of movies I've recently seen

I saw "Brideshead Revisted" a few weeks ago, and was surprised that it was not as awful as I expected it to be. I'd read the reviews. Of course the miniseries was formative to my adolescence. How else do you think a 15 year old begins a love affair with regency furniture and gets a subscription to Connoisseur for Christmas? If only I could have gotten my hair to be half as floppy as theirs my life would have been totally different.

Anyway, the Brideshead snobs have poo poo-ed the film, but it really wasn't that bad. I know they've "butchered" the book and all that, but Matthew Goode is perfectly beautiful to look at.
That ought to count for something, right?

In fact that was worth the ticket right there, for two hours getting to look at him and his puppy dog eyes.
But, well, I don't know that he's very good as an actor. I've admired Ben Whishaw since "Perfume," a movie which I am probably the only person at least in this state to have seen. He is, even the detractors would agree, the best part of the film. He's even better than Anthony Andrews was in the miniseries, I think. And, despite what I've read, I thought Emma Thompson was good. I liked that they used Castle Howard for Brideshead too. All in all, I enjoyed it.

I also took myself to see "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" today, and also kind of liked it.

I'd heard Penelope Cruz was good in it, and I guess she is.
But actually I liked Rebecca Hall (Vicky) even more, or maybe I just related to her character more.

Scarlett Johanson seems to be channelling Woody Allen again, like she did in "Scoop." There is was almost cute, almost...here it's just irritating. In fact, the dialogue is really stilted. Only when it's in Spanish does any of the dialogue sound remotely natural. Another good thing about the film is that fellow westbanker Patricia Clarkson makes an appearance, but she's not given much to do. And of course, Javier Bardem is hot. No need to explain that. Oh, and in looking for nude pictures of him online doing research, I noticed that he was born in the Canary Islands, just like my maternal ancestors! Something to chat about before we have sex.
Anyway, the main thing the film does is makes me want to go to Spain. Good God, it's beautiful there.

cherchez...

I don't remember much of my tenth year of life. I don't remember most of my classmates' names. I barely remember my teachers.

I do, however, remember about five minutes of an early evening in the fall.

I was walking down the darkened hall, hurrying to the safety of my bedroom.
The radio in the room next to mine was turned on. Passing the doorway, I heard a peculiar, tinny voice. I stopped.
It was this song:



I was hypnotized. I sat down in front of the radio, and drifted off to some other world for those few minutes. I got up and didn't know what to do. No one announced the name of the song. It was gone. No matter how often I listened to the radio, I never heard it again. There was no one to tell about this discovery. I wouldn't have known what to say even if there had been.

The song was stuck in the back of my head, however.

Sometime, about eight years ago, I found out the artist's name (Dr. Buzzards Original Savannah Band), and in the intervening years I've found out more about them. I've found a couple of interesting articles about them, like this one. I learned how some of the members eventually split off to become Kid Creole. I've listened to some of Cory Daye's own music. I've discovered that a number of artists, like M.I.A. Ghostface Killah, Miss Kittin, Tribe Called Quest, De La Soul, were somehow or another influenced.

When, thanks to the internet, I found the song again, I remember being surprised. It was not nearly as "different" as I remembered it being.

If I'm honest, I didn't really even like it any more.

The other night, however, I found this video and bookmarked it. Since then I've kept replaying it.
It's a glimpse of a lost world, maybe several lost worlds...nostalgia built upon nostalgia built on more nostalgia.
I think I've finally grown to love the song for real now, where I once just had a childish infatuation.

This afternoon, while browsing the stacks

of new books at our local public library, I saw this:



Somehow I think a bad idea, all the way around.