Dangermond.org

Last night, before I left for Swirl, I lay on the couch and tried to bring myself down a couple of notches – I was amping too high to go out because the outcome would have been gasoline and fire. It helped. I got there and pretty soon Swirl became the Ottoman Empire – so many Turks – all so beautiful – jesum, this one woman, Melissa (what kind of Turkish name is that?) was so outstandingly gorgeous she could have been on the cover of National Geographic under the title Ottoman Empire. I took a picture of her.

Then a bunch of us went over to Asia Pacific to sit outside and eat sushi and watch an Elvis film, only the Elvis film was almost over and we ended up with Lucille Ball instead. I kept saying I wanted to go see Gal Holiday at Chickie Wah Wah but the crowd was starting to want a different direction so I decided I would go solo.

Instead, an entourage followed, and we took over Chickie Wah Wah – Gal and her band were incredible – she looked like something off of a chewing tobacco tin – an anachronistic silhouette singing covers by Hank Williams and others. I kept thinking to myself – this is surreal being here in New Orleans at this club and watching this band for $5 and hearing this music. I danced a little but was more into the scene than the dance floor – the one guy who wanted to dance with all of us kept coming over and I shoo’d him – after all I had to keep an eye on my girls who were getting messy and careening all over the place – even though that in and of itself was worth the price of admission.

The Turks stayed with us vying for their own limelight and at the end I was glad that I had switched to soda water and had found a place to be an observer at a level that wasn’t about to blast off.

This morning when I went to walk the Bean on the bayou, I was deep in thought – pensive about events, people, work, LaLa – many things were vying for attention in my mind. As I passed the LaLa, I thought – please let me in – and then when I got to the bridge I saw N with Renny. My heart lurched because I wanted to hug them both. Renny ran towards Arlene like in some perfume commercial – love at last! But N was near tears – she had read the op-ed piece in the Times Picayune written by Helen Hill’s husband – she said she had been crying all morning – woke the Snake up and made him cry – hell, she made me cry just telling me about it. So the rest of the walk I kept thinking “Helen Hill, Helen Hill, Helen Hill – how sad.”

As I rounded the bayou, I saw the Bayou Stone Fox running towards me – and in my funk he didn’t even elicit a smile – not even a half smile – I said good morning with a poker face. As I crossed over the Magnolia Bridge I saw my two compadres – Javier and Arturo driving up to the LaLa – I almost stopped to talk to them but kept going – funk so pervasive – I saw TL at the crossing – talked to him about the funky stuff – he said lack of leadership – and I agreed – but I think I really wanted him to hug me real tight and say it’s all good – or maybe I needed to jump in the bayou and make a big splash like the pelicans do when they are diving for fish – or maybe I just want something out of the ordinary – I think I need to scream but instead I kind of skulked home and went about my business.

I’m on the verge of walking off the planet.

It’s not the burden that weighs you down, it’s the way you carry it – so the saying goes – grace under pressure – that old chestnut – today when the Entergy guy got there and got out of his truck and said he’d be back the next day I almost blew a gasket. I called Entergy and turns out the person who took my order for a gas and electric meter routed my request to the wrong department. Say what? Let’s see – hmm – “Put Meter On House” – what department did it go to?

Last night I went to see Deja Vu – I must admit, I love action movies, but also they are quite cathartic – yet – and I stress the yet – the catharsis doesn’t last until the next day when you are in that stressful moment – it’s like I could be hooked up to action film central right now in my life and maybe, just maybe, I could keep my blood pressure down.

You know what I could say though? – this may feel like deja vu – but it’s not – what did TL call it – vu jade – I haven’t been here before and nothing is familiar. Take last night, instead of me coordinating the social energy A to Z – I simply suggested seeing a movie and suddenly someone was cooking me a tasty dinner – now that my friend is a fine (albeit different) deal, in my world. No deja vu there.

I was reading today about how people cope with difficult situations and one woman wrote that laughing helps her. I’m lucky to have people in my life who make me laugh out loud and smile frequently. Lucky indeed.

Carpet ordered for the office – due in early next week.

Countertops coming Monday to be installed.

Addition has first coat of paint on it and hoping for another sunny day to finish the second coat.

All doors hung except maybe one.

Screens and shutters are on the to be done list.

Electric and gas meters hopefully going in today.

Certificate of ownership is not far behind – and then refinance – and move in.

Can you believe it?

Helen Hill is dead
A sadness time will not heal
Only change will help.

The man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about all people and all time.
– George Bernard Shaw

When I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to have my own children and it looked definite that we would not be adopting, I got up one more morning and said why bother to save any of photographs or my writings. I had for years kept meticulous archives of photos from holidays and trips and I had also kept journals and journals of writing, never mind the fiction and nonfiction I had written through the years.

A woman wrote to the paper the other day wondering why she should bother continuing to keep a journal when she had no one to hand it down to – the response was the local library in her community might want such a journal as a posting of the times.

Why bother to keep a blog? Why bother to write? I edited and helped write a book for an accoustical engineer who told me he doesn’t read fiction or nonfiction for that matter – didn’t see any reason. I told him fiction, perhaps first and foremost, and nonfiction, tell of the human condition, what it is to be a human being, to live in a certain time, a particular place.

How could you not read?

How much pleasure does looking at old snapshots bring? And so what if it is just for me?

O – or Flower as I call her – sends me this today when I was having a little bit of a fit that I needed to call these people but my plumber called and needed me and I was pulled in 20 directions:

O Klimi (11:58:07 AM): there is a Russian saying: work is not like a wolf, it wont run off to the woods

Up last night going over papers and trying to read my stack of newspapers. Dreamed of lying on my porch and watching crowds go by (perhaps leftover from deciding not to run the marathon, but to watch it from my porch instead). Up this morning to walk Arlene, then answer emails, then go rock Abby and see the J-man, then walk through kitchen remodel idea with L for her house, then back to my house to go over the list with J&A, the carpenter duo, then run get G WD40 to get his scaffold up, then back to the computer to call sources, then back to the house to talk to the plumber, meanwhile the roofer was there fixing the pan that got crimped, then J stopped by to photograph the front windows and shutters, then S stopped by to get the measurement of the credenza top and the window for the restoration glass, then back to the office fielding phone calls and emails and IMs.

A friend sends me an email saying that all of her clients cancelled and so she made soup and stayed in – this was a few days ago – but the email haunts me – I’d love a day off – just one day to hang around where nobody asked me any questions.

I didn’t have time to put the flyers out today and so I had flyer anxiety – so when I left the LaLa I thought I would try to get some blocks done – I started at Maurepas and Gentilly and worked towards Esplanade – but it was already dark and I kept tripping over the Bean who was busy smelling all these new houses and checking all the pee-mail from new dogs in that hood.

I have an entire neighborhood to cover! – G couldn’t help – why do I do the things I do? God help me.

A friend called getting ready for a date that she has reservations about – yuck – why does she like this ritual? – I don’t get the whole dating thing – everyone I run into on dates looks stiff and formal and weird – well, I like the weird part but not the stiff and formal side – another friend said dates are stiff and formal cause it’s like a job interview – gross – I haven’t had a job interview in several decades – I’d rather be with a man I want to be with because I know I want to be eating dinner with him or seeing a movie with him then somebody I don’t know who I have to be careful I don’t spit out my diet coke all over myself because I am laughing at some joke in the movie – I’d even rather spend time with me who I do like cause I don’t mind when I do something weird – or I’d rather hang with the Bean and now even Rusty than trying to act normal in the eyes of some guy who knows me not or who is interviewing me under the guise of eating a flank steak.