I had a meeting yesterday in the office across from the office where I had my very first feature general meeting, almost four years ago.
About thirty seconds into our conversation — and I never do this — I asked the woman I’d just met, “Are you from Texas or Louisiana?”
She stopped for a second, startled. “Both.”
I’m not a Henry Higgins by any stretch of the imagination, but I think all the trips I took last month made me nostalgic for all of the different accents in my life. Read more
Thank you, Chao Camp:
Fireworks and darts.
Walks on the levee with Mad.
Outdoor showers and gossiping through another bottle of wine.
The Poor Bastards, and their band with lots of heart.
Teasing stee for being such a city boy.
Disappearing behind camo.
Crawfish. Lots of crawfish.
Chris jamming on the drum machine.
Our amazing rendition of “Creep.”
Six computers open at once, all searching for the next song to play.
Lynda’s cooking, and Vince’s cooking, and Al charading Patrick Dempsey.
Knowing the name “Nagib Mahfuz.” Read more
stee just called.
stee: So, I came home to find amazon boxes. For me. Probably from C3 [Patron Saint of TWoP].
pamie: Thanks for bragging.
stee: And there are flowers.
pamie: For me?
stee: The card says, “Dan and Jane, thank you for a lovely time and for hosting the event. Phil.”
pamie: We got someone else’s flowers?
stee: So I called the florist, and after about twenty minutes of me going, “Are they from Gersh?” He finally said, “No, there are like, kids names. And it says I love you.”
pamie: I don’t understand.
stee: I think they’re from Allison and AB and Chris and Vince and…Teri?
pamie: Are they pretty?
stee: Yes. But they’re probably the wrong flowers, too. But they sent them. And I think they’re from those guys.
pamie: I will thank them.
stee: Yeah, that’s nice of them, to send you flowers.
pamie: They’re nice people.
pamie: Why did you tell me you got boxes from C3 first? Jealous of my flowers?
[/readermail] Read more
The other night I was watching Sinead O’Connor and realized how much she reminds me of my friend AB. At first glance you think you’re dealing with a tiny woman who probably wouldn’t cause any harm to anybody. Then she opens her mouth and you realize you’ve got a Banshee on your hands. She’s tough, strong, opinionated, and you don’t even remember you have to look down to see her. She’s powerful and loud and yes, the perfect amount of crazy.
I would have just provided a link for the backstory here, but AB has gone and deleted her entire webpage just about, so now I have to do some work.
To put it delicately, Master V, AB’s husband, ran over their family cat a few months ago. He backed up over the cat, Sassy, while Miss Sassy (or was it a Mister?) was taking a nap. Master V feels pretty bad about the entire thing, and that’s exactly why everyone just keeps mocking him about it. In fact, my last visit to Chao Camp, as it’s called around all parts, included a solemn memorial in the backyard, when AB’s young daughter showed me the Sassy Stick, a wooden post that represents Sassy’s final resting place. The Sassinator left this Earth way too soon, apparently, and not a day goes by that Master V isn’t reminded that his need to drive motor vehicles so he can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan took away their feline companion.
Okay. Backstory finished.