Effluvia

I have no links today. We're having "intermittent connectivity problems," to quote the nice people at Cox@Home, so the Wife and I are going around in a state of semi-annoyed-ness. The Williams Family surfs the internet and checks e-mail with the conviction of a smack addict looking for the next fix. We're not addicted, we're media reliant.

Journals

• Bad Hair Days
• Plaintive Wail
• Humidity and Hebephrenia
• Randomly Ever After
• U9
• Fukushu
• Nature of life...
• DNA Sequencing

Siobhanorama!

Siobahn went to the market Saturday. I went to the market Friday. Coincidence? There are no coincidences here, buddy.

I think we're related.

Oh, I'm having a nice long weekend.

It's gone very well, to tell the truth. Friday morning I got up along with Sonya. She got ready to go to work; I made coffee and read the morning papers online. About ten o'clock I left the house and went out into the hot and sticky morning. I put the top down in the Louisiana Badass and went to the bank. I came out of the bank and it started to rain. I put the top up.

In Mid-City I found Calamari's trim and upholstery shop. Mr. Calamari looked at the roof inside the Badass, where the liner has started to come away from the back window.

"That should be under warranty," he said.

"The dealership where I got it said it wasn't," I told him.

"Did you get it in New Orleans?" he asked.

I told him I didn't.

"Well, hell! Try one of the dealers around here! They might give you a different answer."

I went to a Chrysler dealership nearby, and they did give me a different answer. The repairs will be done tomorrow at no charge to me.

Then I went to the French Quarter to find some food. I stopped in the various Gargoyles stores on Decatur (Leather, Shoes and Clothing). The clothing store has doubled its men's clothes section. Mind you, I need to lose thirty pounds to look really good in most of the clothes they had there. Something to consider, I suppose.

I started walking, very pleased with myself for bumming around the French Quarter while everyone else was at work. I composed a little celebratory phrase for myself in my own tortured French:

"Aujourd'hui, j'ai un chanson dans mon couer."

Which mean

"Today, I have a song in my heart."

I had a burger and fries at Deja Vu. Have you seen the burgers at Deja Vu? It's like a frisbee, but it's a hamburger. Fuckin' huge. I ate it all, though, and then very slowly walked it off.

I did some shopping, stopping at a dusty little bookstore filled with old French novels. They also had a crate filled with records, including Culture Club's first three releases on pristine vinyl. I got them all for Sonya.

I went down Bourbon Street and stopped at the Dark Entry to look at their records. The guy working there was bored and a little lonely, I think. He introduced himself as Aaron. We chatted for thirty minutes or so, talking dark music, porn, tourists and t-shirts.

"Do a lot of confused tourists come in here?" I asked him.

"Oh yeah," Aaron replied, "they're always looking for the strippers and a drink, and I have to tell them, 'um, we're a retail store.'"

Aaron reminded me of the other guy - not Jack Black - who worked in the record store in High Fidelity.

I got the bags I'd checked with Aaron when I got ready to leave.

"Um, what do you do?" he asked me.

"I'm a web developer," I told him.

"Oh, yeah," he said, "that figures. I can tell."

"Do I have a web developer look?" I asked.

"Yeah, you do."

I made a little friend!

Then I wandered for a little while. It was raining - a sprinkling, misty rain - and the foot traffic away from Bourbon was thin. I stayed under the balconies and looked in shop windows.

I stopped at Fifi Mahoney's and, when I came out, it was pouring rain. Sheets, buckets of rain. I walked along under the balconies some more, coming to a shop filled with statuary and plaster decorations. I went in and, moving through the shop, walked into the courtyard.

The sky above the courtyard was more than half-obscured by amazingly tall banana trees. Only a little rain came through in fat, loud drops. Surrounded by statues, banana trees and balconies I had a little moment. I was very happy I'd moved to this town.

I walked along the sidewalk, staying out of the rain except to cross the street a few times, but eventually I was pinned down in the doorway at Tujague's. The rain pounded down with a tropical intensity, and the tourists covered themselves with cheap plastic rain ponchos immediately. One moment there were no ponchos - the next they were everywhere. I would think someone was handing them out, but no French Quarter merchant is that foolish.

The rain finally let up some and I shopped around some more, spending time in Virgin Music. Then I made my way back to the car, finally getting good and wet before I made it to the French Market. The selection of pumpkins was amazing, but no one had any yellow squash. I asked two different vendors about this.

"Squash'll be in next week," they both told me. Evidently, the squash harvest hasn't begun yet.

Friday night Sonya and I went to the Crescent City Steak House, where we held a Festival of Cooked Flesh. Huge, steaming hunks of beef were consumed. It was ridiculous - and ridiculously good.

During our meal a couple sitting at a table nearby sent their kid to the bar.

"A martini with one olive, please," the kid said, "and more wine."

"Did that kid just order a martini?" I asked Sonya.

"Yup."

Questionable? Maybe. But it was darned cute.

We stuffed ourselves silly, then we came home and both fell into a protein coma.

Yesterday we got up reasonably early and, by eleven or so, we were at La Peniche - which is far less swanky than it sounds, I assure you - having a lovely breakfast.

We did a lot of shopping yesterday. At the Riverwalk we got jeans. New jeans! Sonya and I never buy new jeans. The last new pair was probably in the summer of '98, when we got some Calvin Kleins at the outlet store in St. Augustine, Florida.

And Sonya got some new boots and a Saints shirt and we got a gift pack of hot sauce products for my father in-law's birthday. Then we went hunting for a jacket for me.

I need a new jacket. I've got two primary coats, really: an old black corduroy jacket that's comfortably frayed and perfect for cool weather, and a beat up old barn jacket that came out of the lost and found pile at one of Sonya's old jobs. I've got a long black wool coat for dressy occasions, too. But I needed something light and hip.

We hit Eddie Bauer, and the Gap, and solme other places, too. But the Riverwalk wasn't cutting it. We went to Canal Place.

For non-New Orleanians, Canal Place is very swank. Saks, Kenneth Cole, Betsey Johnson, Brooks Brothers. Very nice. At Saks I tried on a slim black leather number wiith red satin lining.

"My God, that looks nice," Sonya declared, "it's like it was made for you to wear."

It was Versace. How much? Priced to move at $895.00.

Instead I got a light little coat at Kenneth Cole. It was on sale. It looks nice on me, but not eight-ninety-five nice. For the better part of a thousand bucks, though, a jacket better look nice, don't you think?

Steak leftovers last night, and then I put on my big Molko-boots and we went to the Audobon Bar and Hotel for a performance of Texas Chainsaw 90210, which is exactly what it sounds like. Brandon, Brenda, Dylan, Kelly and Donna take a roadtrip and encounter Leatherface and his family. Brenda constantly slugs on Jack Daniels and Dylan smokes pot constantly, possibly because he's upset about the deep wrinkles on his forehead. The audience gets to vote on who survives - at our performance, it was Donna. At the end of the show she passed by me while fleeing from Leatherface and put her blood-covered hands on my head, making me look like a nasty head-wound victim. I participated! It was fun, and funny - if you like that kind of thing and are in the New Orleans area I recommend it.

Today? The Saints won, I went to the grocery store. I did some laundry, too. Tomorrow I take Sonya's car back to get the roof repaired and, um, then the long weekend's over. It was enjoyed.