I walked over to N’s to bring her a key to my house and the Can, and to give her a pink Spalding ball so she can do the same therapy on her hand that I am doing. Apparently she fell apart in similar ways a year before me – the tennis elbow, the tendons stretched in her foot – god, give her hot flashes, and we could be identical twins. The Snake was in…
I guess in some ways Blogs are the new scrapbooks – if you look at how E uses his with his photos and collection of hyperlinks. I’m trying to get my house in order today (read: me) and so I’m tuning out the outside world and tuning in. I was taping some stuff into my scrap book that I have half ass kept up with for 15 years. I stumbled across an interview with Jane…
Arlene’s tail is now looking like a rat tail – it’s a bloody hairless mess – I went to Walgreens and got the Sulfadene to fix it. But I wonder why Arlene always has to be a manifestation of me not paying attention to my life. Can’t my chaos stay contained and not spill over to her little life, or anyone else’s life for that matter. It’s all about containment. Or is it? I hate…
It’s a tale of the old cobbler’s kids have no shoes. I’ve been stalking G all morning because I worry about her. Her funk funked up more when she read about City Park having no funds this morning. I said but the good part is that people are going in and cleaning the park, and they weren’t doing that pre-Katrina – so we know it falls to us and we’re doing it. She said, “it’s…
A woman was walking her dwarf goat in the Marigny on the way to Bacchanal. H asked me in the elevator tonight on the way upstairs if I’d have sex with him – I gave him a puzzled look and said “don’t you think subtlety might be your friend?” – he said he was giving it his best shot. Good grief. L came to Bacchanal tonight with another L and said again in passing that…
I woke from a deep nap that made me hop up and get going. Went to see mom and she was ironing her uniforms for the the week. It’s disconcerting to see her older, her routines having taken on some sort of death march, her gaze having died out almost. I picked up G afterwards and headed towards Bacchanal but got caught in some serious traffic from a second line that we’re not sure of…
Try to figure out a method for determining where I get all the bruises – head to toe is sprinkled with bruises – carrying the doors at the LaLa, almost drowning in the hot tub as I attempted ungracefully to get into it, carrying my bike down the stairs – it wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for the death glow pallor that is the backdrop for every one of the purple brown and…
Just when I thought the Chihuahuas would go away I picked up the paper and see that some woman was arrested or cited or something for having too many Chihuahuas! Fuck a chihuahua. G says she has given up on the cemetery Chihuahua because it’s a bitch – duh!!!!
Gomez writes me that T has good hair – what goes through people’s minds – it’s a puzzle. He also supplied some family backstory on T that I was only partially aware of. A gave me a dead butterfly last night, which I added to my dead insect collection – one petrified grasshopper and one black butterfly. L said he likes my hair in a tangled mess. Perhaps he still has some in his hands…
The cool front was short lived and the bike ride seemed a lot longer this morning but it was still good to get out there – when I got to the end of the lakefront though I got a little creeped out because there was no one around and it felt eerie with Philip Glass playing through my IPOD so I zipped around and hurried back.