I must laugh at the NY Times (reg req'd, so no link) and how they started saying that President Bush had cut short his vacation to come deal with the hurricane. Then they said that he cut short his MONTH-LONG vacation. Now they're saying that he cut short his vacation by a couple of days.

What's next, that he missed out on a few mornings of lazing around in his pajamas? I mean, more power to them. He ought to be sweating blood at this point. Time to get to work, sir.

Helpful household hints often come about from experience. For example, I found out today by chance how to deal with pesky cat sick. Just leave the vomit on the floor as you are headed out for a meeting, coffee with friends, etc., and by the time you arrive back home, your cat should have lapped all the vomit away! Nature! It's just wonderful!

Man, am I sorry for New Orleans. I recall being a bit catty when all the storms were hitting Florida...but thinking of Nawlins as a big bowl surrounded by inept levies and remembering good times there and knowing all-too-well the destruction of a big hurricane, well, yikes.

My trip to New Orleans, long ago, can be summed up in one word: feces. It was the running theme of our trip. We took the trip in my husband's mother's Miata, then a novelty. The car was so much fun to tool around the parishes in, and so painful to ride in for eight hours on the Interstate. I had bugs in my hair and painful rear end situations following.

The feces was all around - in the streets, on the telly (they showed shots of feces during a local report on bad housing conditions...ewww), in our hotel room, etc. To dull the stench and the thought of feces, I decided to partake in a hurricane or two (too aptly named). After that night, the running theme of our trip became vomit.

On that trip we also connected with a college friend who had been kicked out for various drinking infractions. A N.O. native, she had come back home to marry a Russian acrobat and have a baby named Emmanuella. She was headed to Israel to see the birthplace of Christianity. My husband dropped Emmanuella on one of the ubiquitous iron-grate tables at our hotel, but my friend didn't mind, for she knew if my hubby had in fact KILLED the baby, her baby would be safe in Jesus' arms.

After that visit we headed out to a topless bar. The details of that outing shan't be shared here, but I can reveal that we have never returned to such a place.

After that, we went to a voodoo shop, whereupon entering I was greeted with a scream by a lady in a big turban and lots of jewelry. "WHOA PISCES!" she bellowed, "Your power is blowing me AWAY!" I was flattered. And scared. Because I am a Pisces.

So good old New Orleans, now is your hour of need. I'm hoping and praying for the best, and the best could be pretty crappy. Good luck and godspeed.

It's about time Avebury got some press. My husband took me there after he himself had been there and we just skipped Stonehenge altogether. This was a minor loss, even though I had been intrigued with the 'henge since reading "Tess of the d'Urbervilles". For an English project that featured scenes from the novel, I staged a photo of my Cher doll near some big rocks in my grandmother's yard. (Wow, that Cher doll site, is funny! Go back and look at it again!)

(For the same English project, my now-famous actor friend and I also reenacted the strawberry-eating scene. My friend, being an ingenue in the making, portrayed Tess. She also had long hair, whilst I looked a good deal like Mary Lou Retton at the time. )

At any rate, we had a very memorable time at Avebury. And now that a new phase of my life is opening up before me, at the time that my little sir is entering school and leaving my lap, I've been consoled by the thought of perhaps taking him and the little ma'am across the pond someday and letting them see such amazing sights as Avebury. It is hard when they grow up, but I never want to fear the future.

Rarely talked about, butoften wondered about....let's hope that my friends and I, who all benefitted from having our husbands in the delivery room, remain safely alluring to said husbands. It is hard enough having to play the dual role of mother and lover without having to worry about a spouse's post-traumatic stress disorder.

And they don't have to look below the belt. Keep your eyes on the prize, future daddies, and it will all be fine.

Well, wish us luck. We have our proper footgear, our waterproof shorts and clothing, someone to take care of the cat, fishing licenses, a desire to catch the fish, and a few days off of work. Everyone is excited, everyone is already relaxed. My husband is pretty unstructured about this thing so we are following his lead. We'll just float where the river takes us and wear a lot of sunscreen. I can't wait.

I know all about thisphenomenon. My first was a girl named Jeanine Sagebien at my college. She was not Southern, she was dark, she was friendly, she was smooth, she was fashionable in the most breezy way possible, the way I am not. My friends teased me and laughed when I would flub words in front of her or clamour to get near her in a line or between classes. She was always kind and always cool. I think she may have smoked, thus spurring on my habit in those days. She was friends with a large group of dark Cuban men from Miami and they soon became my friends...but I never really cared about them. I cared about her.

I remember her boyfriend cheated on her. The dirty bastard. I certainly hope she is happy...I could probably look her up but I won't. I'll let her be and hope that she realizes on some level that she is the epitome of cool to someone, and always will be.

Found by Mrs. Kennedy. I'm so pleased that "Singin' in the Rain" is on there. I will forever remember it as the first-ever Netflixed movie by us, and the one we kept the longest...perhaps 5 months.

In other kid news, I saw a pregnant woman smoking last night. Furtively, but in plain view of me and others, and I felt a lot of pity for her mainly because I knew she was currently being chastised and was probably in a mothership of guilt sailing on a sea of inadequacy.

I also saw a baby in a front seat of a car, in his grandpa's arms, being delicately fed a bottle of Coke. I did the only thing I knew to do, without even knowing I was doing it, which was to shake my head at the driver. I'm no better than you, woman, I do stupid shit all the time including losing track of my children at the pool and not holding their hand when a car started backing up right beside us....and even stupider than that. But its the law, and for a good reason, so buckle him up. I hate reading about your peers in the local gore news...and I read about one today, so I sincerely hope you learned a lesson.

More importantly, Ibrahim Ferrer died this weekend at age 78. The guy looked a lot older than that even back in the BVSC days, but I'm hopeful that was due to some all-out fun living in Cuba, as it were. Check out his music, if you haven't.

"We have no idea where it came from." Well, I gotta tell you, I think there is a fella you ought to be asking about that....not that anyone could blame him. Give it a rest, paparazzi! When they are in Starbucks, fair game. But this was a shower for their sweet little bundle of love. Let the "happy" couple be!

Introducing: Cho Chang! Played by a girl who answered an ad for a teenaged Asian girl with long hair. Goody for her, I say. The movie's not out till November, but fan sites are leaking photos all over the place. Take a look at Mad-Eye. He's played by another quirky character actor, but with good credentials.

In other obsessive news, there is a mistake in a leaked shot from the film: in this graveyard scene, Tom Riddle's dad is listed as Tom Marvolo Riddle but as we all know by now, that ain't right. A thread I follow on IMDB discusses this and a boatload of other movie inconsistencies. It just made my head swim.

The family adventureis in the planning stages, but we are well on our way to having it half-way worked out. To avoid hurricanes, we are avoiding the beach. To avoid financial ruin, we are avoiding any airport or distance farther than 5 hours driving time. To avoid missing too much work, we are staying close to home. To avoid seeing relatives, we are going places they don't frequent.

Lots of avoidance, but boy, am I excited.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
You said it, I didn't. (Via Avacado Green)

At my book club, I was told that people in and around my neighborhood are buying their teens SUVs. ON PURPOSE. Because they are safe. And because they like paying extra insurance and thousands for gas each month, I guess. My solution is to give everyone under the age of 23 or so an '88 Cutlass and let them go at it. Safe, and safe for the rest of us. Cause God knows, if someone does me in someday when I'm stalled in my husband's ten year old (very reliable! no problems at all! please let it live another year!) piece of crap, its gonna be some 17 year old in a shiny new Humongo 2000 that costs more than both of my cars combined, I just know it.

Just keeping you updated, people. This seems to take away from the pod's best quality - its portability.

Well, hon, I think you officially gotAmerica's vote...and the other two just went down a few notches.