There is this great scene in Ab Fab where Edina has baby spew on her and she is pointing to it and then to her designer label, Lecroix. Last night, we went to a wedding and I kept trying to pick out a dress that would go with the brown Ergobaby that we were bringing to put Tin in. I ended up ditching the Ergobaby idea as I can tell you – nothing goes with a baby carrier, particularly a brown one.

New Orleans does thunderstorms better than any other city in the world (maybe Southeast Asia has some good ones with those monsoons) but right now as it rains cats and dogs outside my window and lightning lights up the sky and thunder rocks our foundation, I think to myself – now that’s a rain storm. And I like it!

Fury Of Rainstorms

by Anne Sexton

The rain drums down like red ants,
each bouncing off my window.
The ants are in great pain
and they cry out as they hit
as if their little legs were only
stitched on and their heads pasted.

And oh they bring to mind the grave,
so humble, so willing to be beat upon
with its awful lettering and
the body lying underneath
without an umbrella.

Depression is boring, I think
and I would do better to make
some soup and light up the cave.

We’re watching the Wire having started at the beginning and are now on Episode 4. It’s the weirdest thing, it’s a compelling show but the editing or directing is odd in places. It’s like you are totally there, watching, in your willing suspension of disbelief, and then the characters suddenly sound like actors talking from a script. Hard to figure out. And yet compelling at the same time.

The Orangeburg Country Sheriff’s office has a warrant out for my arrest I was just informed. That’s right. I stopped payment on a $100 check that I had sent to the birthmother we were in contract with there – you remember the one – the one who was scamming us, the one who had a federal conviction with her husband, not just with drugs but actually planting drugs on someone – good grief. After the thousands we paid her, the emotional turmoil we experienced with her, the time suck of driving to Orangeburg SC to visit with her, all of that – she was a lying, manipulative (&#*^#*^$#.

I had received a letter – I wish I still had it to scan here – from the Worthless Check Unit – which looked totally like a scam in and of itself, and I wrote them back that there was no way in hell I would pay $100 to this woman who had committed fraud. So they put a warrant out for my arrest.

One big good reason to never go to South Carolina.

A friend writes:

BP = Devil

this is what happens when profits are deemed more important than life itself. when balance is gone – life is horror story

It’s hard to believe that a few years ago I was writing about T biting my lips and this new found love of mine. It seems like we’ve lived a thousand lives since that Mardi Gras day I met her in front of Mimi’s, dressed like a Peruvian cowgirl and me a red angel. My brother had come in town for the events of last weekend and stayed at a time share property that he and his wife own. Since they were only using it for the weekend, they gave us the key. It’s located in the French Quarter and has a huge balcony with wrought iron furniture and is near just about everything.

We went there last night, just T and I, to have a get away, a tryst, a chance for some one on one. It’s amazing how we stepped out of this life of ours the moment we entered the place and became the lovers we were those thousand years ago. All it took was an opportunity to leave our cares and troubles behind and go downtown. We hung out on the balcony watching all the noise and goings on of the Quarter. We enjoyed a bottle of St. Clement Star Cabernet. We brought our own tunes and listened to everything from Barry White to Amos Lee. And we found love again.

There is something about chemistry that explains away everything. It explains how you can go through the dull routine of the day like your life is Groundhog Day the movie, and not lose sight of each other. Chemistry is what waits patiently for the opportunity when you can shut the world out and find each other again.

There in the span of three hours, I fell in love again.

I highly recommend stopping the world, so love can get on.

The other night we drove an hour and a half to introduce Heidi to the kennel where she and Loca are going to stay while we head out on our summer vacation. Heidi is a terrific dog – the best – but she is terrified of storms. We met the woman who picks up at Bonnabel Boat Launch and followed her passed Robert, Louisiana. On the way, the sky turned a dusky grey and then a blue black and T commented how beautiful and magical it looked. I saw storm. There were funnel clouds that almost looked like tornado material. Then CRACK CRACK CRACK, the lightning went from top of sky to bottom of the earth and the thunder shook the car. I jumped out of my seat. Heidi almost dove into the front with us.

This continued all the way to the kennel and when we arrived there, it was pouring rain and a wet black dog came out and circled the cars, barking and running fast in circles. I assumed it was the house dog, but turns out it was one of the boarded dogs who jumped a very high fence because of this storm. I got out of the truck and headed under the shelter and the woman jumped every time the thunder CRACKED. I thought to myself, she and Heidi will make a good pair. She said it hadn’t rained there in two months.

In the end, we couldn’t get out of the truck and run around and get familiar and worst case is that Heidi will forever associate the kennel with that torrential rain and thunder and lightning. But the owners stood with an umbrella at the door to the truck, Heidi in my lap, and talked to her and she responded.

Whatyagonnado?

I’ve always claimed my father had gypsy in his blood as he was a wandering Jew who could never sit still. They have a term for that in Spanish – it is called “culo inquieto”. T ordered a documentary from Netflix the other day called When the Road Bends, about Gypsy tribes from all over coming together to play music in an extraordinary event. The film is named after an old Gypsy proverb that states: You cannot walk straight when the road bends. Great saying. And the music in this movie is extraordinary. I realize that my father might have had some Gypsy in him after all as the sounds are similar in some ways to the Ladino and Sephardic music I heard growing up.

But I learned that Gypsies trace their origins to medieval India. The Rom people hail from Northern India but the musical influence as they spread through Western and Eastern Europe is magical. Esma Redzepova stars in the documentary and she is fabulous, with a Serbian mother and Roma father. But my favorite line goes to the woman who describes her mother as a “cathedral” – fabulous imagery.

Oil Spill got you down? Here are some things you can do to work through these uncertain times:

1st Procession of Krewe of Dead Pelicans
329 Julia Street Start in front of Canary Collective Gallery
Sat, Jun 5, 2010 @ 5:30 pm – 9:00 pm

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Teach-in about the BP disaster: 6:00 Thursday night at Holy Angels (that’s 3500 Saint Claude, corner of Saint Claude and Gallier, the huge old convent that’s now a retirement home that also hosts the  Bywater Farmer’s Market).
There will be free food and drink, plus lectures, discussions, and workshops for letter-writing. People are encouraged to bring laptops and/or phones, so they can start pumping out emails, etc….

Yesterday the head of the EPA met with James Cameron to talk about the oil spill. What? you say. Yeah, well that’s where we are here in the Gulf South, we are so screwed, we’re talking to Hollywood to think outside the box. Lord help us.

Today a friend sent a note that a genius in Long Island knows what to do. I sort of like her idea.

HELP!!!!!!