Thursday, Aug. 14, 2003 - 4:24 p.m.
Greetings,
Apparently the dog days of August have drained every last spark of creativity and literary passion from my bones.
Nothing much is going on except a lot of heat.
I ordered myself the first four Little House books by Laura Ingalls and four Beezus and Ramona books by Beverly Cleary AND Freaky Friday the book.
Freaky Friday shipped first, but I’ve had the other books for a day now and there’s no Freaky Friday in sight. What gives?
I’ve already read the Beezus and Ramona books and I’m saving the Little House books for the fall.
I want to read Freaky Friday NOW.
I must go to Schwinn Pixie this evening to get what seems to be a shitload of groceries. The cupboards are bare indeed at Crescentwood.
Since I am writing about boring ass shit, here’s something you probably don’t care to know…
I have lots of laundry to do. Tons. Mostly towels.
I went to Bed, Bath & Beyond on Friday to buy an Aerobed and ended up also buying four new sets of towels. Tommy got two black towels and a black handtowel. I got a cream colored towel and a darker cream colored towel (sort of sand colored I suppose) and matching hand towels.
So now we’ve got lots of towels at Crescentwood because we already had 6 or 7 sets of towels each. We could actually use one towel a day and not run out by the end of the week.
I’m sort of happy to report that I no longer fall prey to the “Friday Towel Syndrome”.
I have three pink towels, a light sand colored towel - my new sand colored towel is darker, like wet sand versus dry sand -, a dark purple towel, a dark green towel, and a white towel.
Basically I use the three pink towels Monday through Thursday and then any of the other towels for the weekend.
On caftan nights I don’t have just two towels to choose from anymore. Now I color coordinate my towels to my caftans. And lately my dark purple towel has been designated “the” official Therapeutic Thursday towel.
The two new towels are probably – okay, hell, who am I fooling – they are caftan night towels for sure. Or weekend towels at least.
So how is this NOT falling into the “Friday Towel Syndrom” you may cynically inquire?
Hey,I have SIX possible caftan night towels. I only had two before. And I don’t even HAVE a Friday towel anymore!
Here’s a random list of things that make me happy
1.) Watching Tommy draw the blinds at night in Crescentwood
2.) The funny meow that Agatha uses to greet me
3.) 5 o’clock on Friday afternoon
4.) Sitting in Lafitte’s on Bourbon drinking a whiskey sour and listening to “Girl from Ipanima”
5.) Driving across the Crescent City Connection in Kharis and seeing New Orleans spread out before me
6.) Waking up Thanksgiving morning at my mother’s and father’s house in North Carolina
7.) Looking around my pristine white bathroom by candlelight as I take a lavender scented bubble bath
8.) The first sip of champagne on a weekend night
9.) My ritual chamber when I sit in it and listen to the Unholy Trinity (“Libera Me” from the Interview With the Vampire soundtrack, “Rakim” by DCD and “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” by Bahaus
Here’s a random list of things that make me unhappy
1.) Fuckalie clearing her throat
2.) Fuckalie chewing her cud
3.) Fuckalie’s loud mouth voice
4.) Fuckalie in general
5.) The alarm at 5 a.m. on Monday morning
6.) Country music in any form (except for some of the Smokey & the Bandit songs, Take This Job and Shove It and Give Me 40 Acres and I’ll Turn This Rig Around.)
7.) Gossip
8.) The way I can’t smell a burned match anymore without getting scared
9.) Constantly cleaning up cat piss because Meow can’t make the litter box anymore
I’m glad we still have power here in New Orleans. I imagine that if I still worked at my old job, “that cesspool” as my friend Ken liked to refer to it, I’d probably be heading home by now. Apparently the black out has extended out into parts of Hartford, Connecticut too and that’s Cesspool Country right there.
I would not want to have to trudge down 26 flights of stairs with a bunch of complaining, whining corporate pinheads. I already do that once a year for the annual fire drill.
Supposedly it’s not terrorists; it’s a “natural occurrence”. Someone Tommy works with opined it may have been Homer Simpson reaching for that 12th doughnut and pushing the red button with his left ass cheek by mistake. That’s a visual.
Goddamnit, is it 5:30 yet?
Until next time,
Olrun
