Hi, website! Look, I haven’t neglected you at all!

I had to go give a presentation this afternoon on a subject I didn’t really know anything about until last Friday. I have been fretting big time over this because I do not enjoy situations that highlight my idiocy, especially those where I will be wearing a microphone.

But today I went and did the damn thing, and it was fine — it was almost enjoyable! The audience laughed at my jokes, and people: that is all I ask. And actually, that’s kind of asking a lot, since one of the jokes was about first graders and gay marriage.

I have nothing to say, but unfortunately for you my new year’s resolution was to post every day, so I have to put something up here. So here are some things:

1. The past week has been stressful at work, due to the fact that SOMEONE HATES MY GUTS OMG WHY ME.

2. I am going to home to Texas on Thursday for a long weekend, wherein I will go to stores we don’t have in Mississippi and my mother will buy me lots of things.

3. I love the BBCA show Love Soup more and more every week. Are y’all watching it? It comes on tonight. It’s very smart and funny, with two extremely likable, real-seeming main characters.

4. Even though the drawing class I took last fall totally bit it, I have fallen for another community enrichment class, one that has great potential for embarrassment and heartache: a short story writing class. Oh, what fun! The very least that will happen is that someone in class will annoy me, and then I will tell you about him/her. And that is totally worth my money.

5. It has been awhile since something has sparked my interest like my new side research project. I’m piecing together some information for J. Bubba Cots about a house he recently took a tour of. People, he doesn’t even tell you the good parts, like that the original owner had a full tavern built into the basement. And that there is a rumor that someone was murdered there. (I think this rumor attaches itself to all creepy Southern gigantor houses, but it doesn’t mean I’m not going to try to find out if it’s true or not.) And that he sent some illicit photos he took with his camera phone, and that some of them involve stuffed tiger heads that reside in the linen closet and a human skeleton that is dressed up Weekend at Bernie’s-style and lounging on Voldemort’s favorite chair. Oh, dear god.

From citycrab today, about her recent mattress shopping experience:

For all of those times you were so depressed that you couldn’t get out of bed. The mattress made especially for gloomy depressive types. The mattress you might spend your last days in. The Melancholy. The saddest mattress in the world.

My brother is a fairly weird fellow. That being said, we have a lot in common. For instance, one day I asked him if he could write with his feet, and he said yes right away. I too can write with my feet. I thought it was pretty interesting that independent of each other, we had both tried to do so and discovered that we were good at it.

Anyway, this picture he took of a stone park bench looks exactly like something I would do: (more…)

Totally taken on a different day than the last picture of Pete in his baby bed. He really loves that thing, even if he doesn’t quite fit in it anymore.

Last night Larry and I went to Cinqo de Mayo for dinner (and creamy margaritas) — while there, we learned that our hallowed mayor used to eat there a lot before he was elected. Here are two exclusive details about Frank Melton that you will only get here: one, he liked pina coladas, and two, no matter how much his bill was, he left a $20 tip.

After splitting a pitcher of margaritas, Larry and I got into a fight over straws. People: I said straws. This escalated pretty quickly and continued until we got home. Then the phone rang and it was Mix asking if we wanted to go drink margaritas with her and Alec Eiffel at Cazuela. We said yes, our fight was over, we split another pitcher, and then we were too drunk to care about straws. Although I was totally right.

• This morning I went to a little seminar about stress relief. You know, we stretched, we breathed deeply, we imagined our muscles relaxing, we all got pedometers, etc. It was better than sitting at my desk. (more…)

It’s not that it’s a baby wearing glasses. It’s a baby wearing these glasses. (more…)

My friend Lorie lived three houses down from me while we were growing up. We were friends based mainly on proximity, although we did both watch All My Children religiously, which was a major bonding point.

I have two main stories about Lorie. (more…)

Long years ago I babysat for the daughter of an English professor (who shall remain nameless). Their house was a filthy cesspool of clothes, rotting food, books, and afghans. The kitchen had a dip in the floor that was always filled with water. The counters were filled with grocery bags, the groceries still in them, and old food sat on the kitchen table. (more…)

from Erica Wilson’s Brides Book: All the Special Things to Make for Your Engagement, Your Wedding, and Your First Year of Marriage (1989)

The other day I was in the stacks (not that I work anywhere where there are stacks) and came upon two books that occupied my entire morning: one about origami-ed Christmas decorations (origami baby Jesus, anyone? no? what about a Christmas kimono, then? also, p.s., I found out that I suck at origami) and one that is the official book of photographs from the 1893 World’s Fair in Chicago.

I have a particular interest in the 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis, but in a pinch, Chicago will do. If you’ve read Devil in the White City, this book has huge, beautiful photographs of all the buildings you read about. Well, all the buildings, and then some exotic native peoples. My favorites were the Hindoos and the Esquimaux.

Part of my fascination with both World’s Fairs is the temporary nature of the buildings. Costs were huge, construction long, and everything was made of plaster or shoddily made and then it all burned or melted. (Most everything; the art museum in St. Louis was the only permanent structure.) I’m also fascinated with the things that were fascinating to long-ago fairgoers: a sculpture of an Indian made of butter, tortoise rides, electricity exhibits. I fear that if I went somewhere with a butter sculpture today, by the time I got there, someone would’ve already stuck their gum on it and there would be some teenagers standing in front of it rolling their eyes.

Even though the whole point of my fascination is that we as a culture are too cynical and snarky to enjoy these sorts of simple pleasures, my jaded 21st century brain still laughed to itself when it read this description of the midway:

Here, every one of the “concessions,” or private entertainments, lay before the visitors, and a line of ejaculatory “recommenders” saluted them in all languages, imploring them to come in and see their “attraction.”

I “know” it’s not so, but it “sounds” like this is a “midway” of “whores,” as advertised by “pimps.”

I also misread a caption as “The Boredom of Marie Antoinette.” It was the bedroom. Oh. That’s much less interesting.

Vanity tags:

DPASTOR
2FANC4U
GOD LOV
ILYBEN
PRESHUS

Overheard at sushi restaurant:
“I’m like, I’m sticking my toe in it and it’s making my toe better!”

Guy at Dollar Tree 8/17/06:
On the bottom of his name tag, he’s written in with a magic marker the words POLO KID. He’s wearing a Polo shirt with the blue Ralph Lauren tag still wrapped around one of the buttons. He’s also wearing a fake Louis Vuitton backpack while working the cash register. I’m buying an iPod cover. He holds it up and says, rather emphatically, Nano! This is the extent of our interaction.