Another Sunday dawned with both Steve and me off from work. Yay! First stop, back to my work to load up on caffeine and the miracle that is my company's +Energy supplement. It's a wonder, I assure you. A little visiting with Michael, Lisa and Emily and then on to an estate sale, our first of the year. This was in the rather schmancy neighborhood off Wydown, just west of Big Bend. Most things were priced ridiculously high - a sheared beaver coat for almost $10,000????? Seriously? The house had lots of art reproductions, weird Louis XIV style furniture, and most frightening of all, a table in the basement laden with surgical and medical equipment, including an evil-looking heavy metal speculum. *Shudder.*

I didn't get too much at the sale, but my money got me this:

I have no idea what this book is about, but holy cow! how about that overwhelming amount of phallic imagery? The tool belt, the tool, the smoke, the scarf, the spikes and, oh, maybe the GIANT POLE he's hanging from. Wow.

And I can never resist random boxes of old sewing stuff:

I haven't even had a chance to root through this stuff yet. Can't wait to examine all the buttons. The little leather case holds a bunch of pretty and odd keys. I love old keys.

I also got a set of tiny tin molds (what were those things for?), a vintage paring knife and a couple of gifts that I must not reveal here. So, all in all, not a bad haul.

Next stop was Trader Joe's for stocking up on cheap wine and good frozen stuff and Dierberg's for various groceries. Woo hoo! Aren't we some kind of party animals? At least we made it home before the torrential rain started.

Now I must stop dicking around on the computer and try to be creative...wish me luck.

Wake Up, Charlie! Let's Go to Candy Mountain!

Yesterday I spent the daytime hours in an extended online psychoanalysis session with a friend. It wasn't on purpose; it just evolved from our conversation and I ended up having at least two epiphanies about a lifetime of my behaviors. It was quite revealing, upsetting and relieving at the same time. Remember that sun analogy about me a while ago? Well, I'm not sure I applied it in quite the right way when I received it. During the course of the conversation yesterday I realized that I was always looking at things solely from the point of view of the sun; I've only thought of burning, not the burned. Or something like that. I'm not sure I'm ready to articulate it all yet.

Here's the other thing that's mildly interesting; I have four tattoos and, arguably, all four of them have an aspect of the sun about them. Two overtly and two implicitly. Is it possible I've just realized this? How stupid does that make me look? But on the other hand, whoa. Did my subconscious place me at the center of my universe long before I realized I had done it? So I want the world to revolve around me; is that so wrong?

After the hours of analysis, I had an evening of working with Michael ahead of me. It was just the two of us for several hours - talking, bickering, gossiping, laughing. It was barely like work and, in reality, it was barely like work. Both of us, separately with a different co-worker, are able to get out of the store barely one half hour after closing, the store looking great. Last night it took us nearly 50 minutes to get everything done. D'oh!

We had decided we were going to go out afterwards and we decided on the Loading Zone again. Steve opted to meet us there and we headed down the street to start drinking. The bartenders were adorable, the patrons were okay looking except for one beautiful emo-haired boy. Some guy growled at me as I waited for the bathroom to become available. I'd like to think it was a sexy growl, not a 'get out of my gay bar, vagina-bearer' growl. Later he came and managed to touch Steve, me and Michael a few times in passing. Strange guy. At any rate, we got drunk. Kind of stinking drunk. The drinks were going down like water and they kept coming. While I'm a tad hung over today, I don't regret a moment. It's been a while since we've just sat in a bar and drank and laughed and acted silly and I was really happy to have Steve and Michael there to do it with. And this time there were no bitchy old queens who made their nasty little dog try to bite me, unlike the last time were at the Zone.

Re: the headline? Go to youtube.com and search for 'candy mountain.' And then search for 'charlie bit my finger.'

You gotta spend some time--love, you gotta spend some time with me

Though it's hard for me to admit it, I'm currently really digging the latest Death Cab For Cutie single. I've played it over and over at the workplace this week -- customers are going to think it's my theme song. It's embarrassing, liking DCFC; I've expressed my disdain for them on many an occasion. I'm somewhat happy to say I haven't liked anything else from the album.

Anyway, I also like the video for the song. It's an extended version, twice as long as the radio edit. Kind of melancholy, like the song.

So the maples formed a union/And demanded equal rights/The oaks are just too greedy/We will make them give us light

Today has been a rather blissful day off. The weather is perfect -- bright and sunny and just warm enough for shorts but not so hot the leather seats in my car burn my bare legs. I've been putting off planting anything in my many outdoor pots because I haven't had time and the weather has been so awful. But lying in bed this morning I decided that the time had come. After chugging an iced latte with the best invention known to man, the powdered energy additive, I took off for my first stop, Home Depot. I didn't find much there; things were either unpriced, which I really hate, or they were overpriced. I did buy a strawberry pot and a couple geraniums, but nothing else. Next stop, Bayer's, where I should have just gone first. The herb selection was a little less than I would have liked, but I got some good stuff and the prices were right.

Then an afternoon of chatting online, an evening of grilling and wine and a girl can't ask for more.

I had to take photos...

A pink geranium paired with asparagus fern.


Variegated coleus and a false (or Mexican) heather.


A gorgeous, dusty pink lisianthus (seriously, the photo doesn't do the color justice) paired again with asparagus fern.


A white geranium, it's concrete pot surrounded by the wild ivy that is overtaking the house.


Mmmmm, dill! After I got home with this, I noticed I had three dill seedlings springing up in last year's pots. Guess my plant last year spread its seed.


This is some new kind of basil, paired with the teeny-leafed creeping thyme I planted last year.

It's probably fruitless (ha ha), but I had to buy these pickling cucumber plants. Hopefully I'll get them to bear a bountiful harvest of cukes. Homegrown Sub-Continentals!


My spindly serrano pepper plant. I have four altogether, so I'm sure I'll get something.


More coleus.


Rosemary, planted in an antique enamel chamber pot. I don't particularly like the taste of rosemary, but I love the scent.


And finally, my view of the sky, from the backyard deck, through our three big trees.

Every time I see your face/It reminds me of the places we used to go/But all I got is a photograph/And I realise you're not coming back anymore

I'm not a particularly nostalgic person. I don't think of the past and long for my so-called salad days; nor do I look the future with hopes and dreams. I live in the present, perhaps to my detriment. Maybe I should look to my past more for lessons I've learned. And it's probably not good that I don't plan at all for my future, but hey, it's worked out okay for me until now.

Yesterday work prevented me from joining Steve in meeting up with Duwan Dunn, an old from from way back in the day. Duwan is a photographer and always had a camera in her hand. Actually, back then, many of us in our crowd documented our every little moment, staged and not. Anyway, Duwan gave Steve a disk loaded with her photos from the early to mid-80s and a lot of pleasant memories were evoked when we looked through them. Honestly though, in all these intervening years, I don't remember the specifics of most of the photos I'm in. But here's my favorite:


I believe this was taken in 1982, and possibly in this weird place in north county we referred to as The Bombed Out Building. But it's brilliant, isn't it? Duwan entitled it "Cathy Calls Hell."

I have absolutely no recollection of these next two photos being taken. That's how often we had photo sessions -- they all blur together at this point. From the titles (and the tell-tale streetlights), I know these were taken on Euclid Avenue. Our gang spent a lot of time on Euclid. Back then the CWE was the purview of the artsy, the edgy and the fabulously gay. It had not yet been countified and inundated by the cookie cutter Preps who eventually took over. On the steps of where Golden Grocer now resides we used to gather and just hang. My first wedding shower, such as it was, was held there. Once we found a box of old silk neckties and spent a couple of nights feverishly selling them to passers-by. Lest you think we were awful punk rock panhandlers, I assure you it was more performance art than anything else. We were the local color people came to the CWE to gawk at. We always had a boombox blasting music and we danced and danced. On one perfect night we formed a Soul Train (named after a segment in the eponymous show) and danced down the middle of Euclid, gathering strangers until our single file line was several car lengths long; we took it all the way down to Left Bank Books. It's a little hard to believe that very little to no alcohol nor any other substances were involved. We were just young and crazy and happy.

This is Duwan and me. I don't remember this vintage dress, but I wish I still had it.


Steve, an unremembered person (I say Frank, Steve says not), and me.

I love this shot of a young Steve. I don't think I've ever seen this photo before, and I'm pretty sure it was taken before I came around. But I really love it, from the paisley shirt and windbreaker to his rock star-thin hips to his fabulous jaw line.


OK, so maybe now I'm feeling a little nostalgic.

Yeah, you know what this is/It's a celebration, bitches!/Grab a drink, grab a glass/After that I grab yo ass

He's staying! He's not moving to Baltimore. My beloved Michael is not leaving me, not yet anyway.

That is all.

No blue cars will run my world/no playboys will black my word/i would walk a million smiles/for one of your miles bob/stop

I spent the first half of my day off yesterday visiting my mom for a slightly post-Mother's Day celebration. As usual, she made it difficult to celebrate her. I arrived to find two of her ginormous and delicious apple dumplings ready to take home for Steve's and my dessert. Then she suggested we do a little shopping before going out to lunch. Even though I am, ahem, of a certain age, my mom still insists on buying me stuff when we go shopping. And being the baby of the family, I am apparently unable to resist.

Not able to justify the purchase of a completely impractical, but highly desireable pair of shoes, I allowed Mom to treat me. Just look at 'em:




You understand; I could not resist these. I have a thing for metallic shoes. They're like catnip. I've not really been into much of the '70s-styled stuff, but these made the cut.

After our shopping trip, which took much longer than either of us realized, we headed for lunch at La Carreta, a Mexican joint in a typical St. Charles strip mall. I was rather charmed when the host/server referred to us as "senioritas" and "amigas". It was cute, what can I say? Lunch was delicious and ridiculously cheap and it was really good to spend some time with my mom alone. However, the check came and she absolutely refused to let me pay. Mom! She's immovable when she's decided something (hmmmm, something else I've inherited, perhaps?), so I had no choice. And you know, I didn't really get spoiled when I was a kid due to certain circumstances -- I'm not too old to enjoy it now.

In other news, Michael has not been amused by any attempts to keep him here in St. Louis (by me or anyone else), so I have stopped making any comments or actions in that regard. I do sense him pulling away from me emotionally and physically as I've hardly talked to him in days. I'm not sure whose benefit he's doing it for, or even if he realizes he's doing it. I'm hoping for things to normalize soon so that we can actually enjoy the time we have left to spend together. We work together Saturday morning, so we'll have a good deal of alone time to discuss the situation. And you know I love discussing situations.

You're waiting for someone to perform with

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not overly fond of small children. But I'd invite this kid over for a drink.