"YOU KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING AND YOU KNOW WHERE YOU BELONG"

Hi kids. Happy weekend. I did some work, I got a nice new office chair (Craigslist yet brand new and fabulous), signed the new lease on the new apartment, bought a new shower head, fed/watered/checked-in on/played with my neighbors cats, Staley and Oz, bought some new eco-cleaning products, took a nice time out in a lunch nook with nice music and warm soup and discovered a new coffee joint is going up in the 'hood. Ah-- did I mention the new apartment is a only about three blocks from the current apartment? It's true. I'm excited to stay in the area. I love this 'hood.

On a few work notes-- I got a donation collector up and running for Pilcrow Lit Fest-- you know, we're in great shape, but we're going to need some office supplies, a few things for the NOLA Public Library benefit party, and that sort of thing. We have a goal set, and anything we get over that amount will go straight to the NOLA Public Library. Point being, if you'd like to donate a few dollars to Pilcrow and help us out with such things, please do. Thanks!

Getting Pilcrow together has been a huge mountain of things to do, but it's been wonderful. I've been enjoying every minute of it, I must confess. When I first started, I didn't really have any expectation attached to it all; I just thought If I can get a nice solid group of fifteen to twenty-five people together and pull it all together with style, it'll be great. Well, I'm thrilled to report that I have almost four times as many people involved. I couldn't be happier about it all.

"DISPLAYING YOUR NAME"

So, remember last year when I went to New Orleans for the Tennessee Williams/New Orleans Literary Festival? Well, while I was there, I was interviewed by David Reich of AuthorViews. And look! I have a copy.

(Look how short my hair is!)

"THE QUEEN IS (NOT) DEAD"

Hi kids. The weather is weird, I'm working hard and being busy, Pilcrow is coming along nicely, the editing phase is done with Katie Schwartz's's's book and we're just double-checking and such right now, mostly, my parents are moving but staying on the coast, I feel a little tired, I have more to do today before the day is over, my friends in New Orleans are hoeing down today, I finished a few writing projects this morning, I think I will have an early dinner, I don't even want to discuss my shower, my cat is sweet and napping, Clitter is funny (particularly "sparklebabies" at the end), my apartment is warm, on The Yay/Oy Vey Scale, things are firmly yay. No complaints.

"PAINT A VULGAR PICTURE"

So, this is fun, if you will be so kind as to note the photo credit at the upper right. Remember the day I took that photo? I sure do! Oh, NOLA, I'll come visit you again soon. (Nobody freak, I'm not moving. I have much to do in Chicago for quite a while.)

"THE END OF THE LINE"

My brother is a photographer, and a great one at that, but randomly, a travel guide, Schmap, found one of my photos in Flickr of New Orleans and wants it use it. Hey, by all means. How very unexpected!

In other news, I am flying through my To Do list this weekend and happy as a clam. Deadlines, odds and ends and it's all coming together wonderfully. I timed it all perfectly, too, so that by this time tomorrow, I'll be about finished and ready to head into 2008 on top of things and super-organized for everything coming my way.

(grin)

"ANYTHING IS HARD TO FIND, WHEN YOU WILL NOT OPEN YOUR EYES"

Who loves you, babes? Guthieroo, that's who. This short about global warming is very, very, very much worth the watch.

Soooo, I went to the DegreesNola book release party last night, which was marvelous. I was only there for a bit because I had things to attend to before and after, but it was a good time, I bought a book and said hello to some familiar smiling faces. It's a super book, if you're so inclined.

Today, I thought I was going to get the friendly neighborhood Tattoo Man to do a little more to my backpiece, but it looks like I will be writing instead. Oh, rough choices today, I know.

"REEL AROUND"

This shit it tonight, bitches. Go.

"THEY LOOK AT DANGER AND THEY LAUGH THEIR HEADS OFF"

You know, that strange man who threw things at my feet threw good luck at me. I would swear to it. Since I went to New Orleans, I've been on a roll. The minute I arrived! And, now in Chicago, the luck is flowing, my smile is broad, and good mojo just seems to be everywhere.

On a semi-related note, I met many of the brains and some of the soul behind NOLAFugees this weekend, and am reading Year Zero: A Year of Reporting From Post-Katrina New Orleans. Do yourself a favor and order a copy. It's really great.

"SO YOU RUN DOWN TO THE SAFETY OF THE TOWN"

Okay, okay, I have my wits about me a little better now with a little rest. All day it has been occurring to me that I wrote better/more in New Orleans than I have written in a while. I am convinced that I now need to sneak down every once in a while and wander and jot. I did a lot of that. Walk a little, get a thought, sit someplace for a bit and write, repeat. I can't explain it, There's just something magical about the place that made me feel good.

To begin, this is my hair in Chicago on a rainy, humid day:


And, this is my hair on a slightly overcast day in New Orleans:


Just fyi, there. I've decided not to cut my hair again until my next manuscript's first draft is completely finished, by the by. Just as an aside that doesn't relate to anything of pressing importance. Anyway.

Let's see, where did we leave off in detailing the festival? Ah yes. (As a side note-- look what the TW Fest blogger, the one and only Kevin Allman, posted about yours truly. He is, of course, talking about my adventure with the contents of a large gris-gris bag being flung at my feet by a mysterious stranger, my run-in with a very unique drag queen and my search for vegetarian cusine.)

Right. Whwn we left off, I was about to go tape an interview.

Well, it was great. I mean, I think it weant well, but I won't know that for sure until I see the footage. Soon, dolls, soon enough. But, afterwards, I found out that there is an author out there who signs her books with a combination of red ink and her own menstrual blood. Someone please tell me who this is and then convince her she and I need to tour around together.

Anyway, after the interview, I went to an opening reception at a historical center, chatted and laughed, then moved to a little bar with a few folks for even merrier chatting and laughing for a bit.

the next morning, the first panel was great. Beyond great, really. Arin Black is a genius so, as a moderator, you know she kicked ass. Sidney Thompson sat on the panel with me, as did his wife Jennifer Paddock and the charming and colorful John Prichard. I feel like it all went really well, and I even managed to get a couple of laughs in, which is usually my goal in any given situation.

The reading was immediately after and I feel like it went wonderfully. First, Margaret Sartor read from her beautiful and sentimental Miss American Pie, which is excerpts of diaries she kept growing up in the 1970s in Monroe, Louisiana. Then, the always-funny Haven Kimmel read from her She Got Up Off The Couch, which had everyone rolling. Paula Morris read a hilarious excerpt from her latest, Trendy But Casual, made even more enjoyable by her sharp and fabulous New Zealand accent. Then, I went. If you've read my Three Fallen Women, you know its far heavier than it is funny. So, I made a joke about being a downer and dove in. And, everything was right. I don't know what forces came together, but they did and I was happy with how I did. I worried, you see, that reading something so vastly different after such funny reads, that my reading might fall short. But, I think it played well. Four people claimed one could have "heard a pin drop" during the reading, so I will assume that is because I was doing well and not because the audience was asleep (har har).

Afterwards, I grabbed lunch with visiting Sparkypoo & Co. at the Gumbo Shop, which, to my delight, boasted a vegetarian dish du jour and then followed them as they wandered around the French Market area before dashing back to my hotel to get very dolled up for a party/literary salon at a stunning private home in the French Quarter and made friends with a band with some excellent ideas for musical greeting cards, bumped into John Waters at the bar, shared my mortifying Morrissey story with Sidney Thompson, Sidney Thompson shared his mortifying Michael Stipe story with me, made friends with an extremely cool lady with extremely cool glasses and her (I think?) brother, and then chatted with a charming fellow I'd met a day before.

Then onto a more impromptu party after that. Loved both of these gatherings. Loved. I really just loved all of the people gathering this weekend. Everyone I was hanging out with, really, I just adored. Unfortunately, I had a bit of work to do, so I ran back to my hotel late that night, got the work finished and crashed out.

Sunday morning, I did a bit of work in my hotel room, dolled up a bit and stepped out to the Bourbon Orleans Hotel to moderate a panel about outrageous writers, the outrageous writers being my now-pals Sidney Thompson, John Prichard with the addition of Ace Atkins. I struggled to keep questions relevant to three so-different authors, but I got laughs, and got good feedback, and saw familiar faces smiling in the crowd, so I'm happy with how it went.

After, I chatted with some audience members, bought a few books and had an incredible conversation with a guy from the New Orleans Public Library system. Stay tuned readers! I have a big, cool, project in the works that will, with any luck, help NOPL out a bit.

Then, a quick dash to the hotel again to change clothes into something cooler then back to Jackson Square for the very hilarious Stella Shouting contest, where, as the titles might suggest, involves a crowd of people taking turns shouting Stella! Stella! Stelllllaaaaaaaaaaaa! up to a Stella on the balcony. Such a riot. Then, we all followed the six finalists into a beautiful, old theater to determine the winner and sip mint julep, which, you know, twist my arm.

After, I, with a tipsy julep head, met up with Sparkypoo & Co. again for an outrageously good fried eggplant po' boy and a few laughs before heading to Cafe du Monde for a nice hot cafe au lait and a few last beignets before we all parted ways.

Maybe the story ends there. But, maybe it doesn't. I have failed to spill the dirt about being at Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop bar, the funny but wonderful conversation at the casino, the recounting of the phone-sex story, the tough old southern ladies who insisted they could identify with the Frieda character in my Three Fallen Women, the randomly wonderful thing John Waters said, the walk around the French Quarter very late at night, the impromptu bohemian salon in scattered parlor chairs, the fellow with the most entertaining story about Hurricane Katrina/tiger sharks/corpses/weapons, discussion about Space Camp and how reviving it can immediately improve an iffy situation, and a promise to stuff a grand plot into a very short story. That stuff is different. It stays in my head for now.

In any case, I met some wonderful people, I heard and read some wonderful things, had some wonderful experiences and, though I am happy to be in my apartment with my cat again, I will admit that I miss New Orleans a bit. It is pretty great there.

Until next time, then.

"GRRRRLFRIEND IN A COMA"

Well folks, I am home and fucking exhausted. New Orleans was so wonderful, I can't even begin to tell you. I need a few days to fully process it all and do it all justice, as every moment of it was really great. I did so many fun things and met so many outstanding people and had so many wonderful moments that I just have to sit with it all. Uh, and I need to catch up on sleep in order to write in complete sentences. Just wanted to let everyone know that I'm in Chicago, safe and sound.

"THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT"

Last night, after I ran all over the place desperate to find something vegetarian that wasn't just a veggie burger and making friends with my server, a motley little crew was cobbled together in honor of Sparkypoo and her dude arriving last night. Pat O'Brien's lovely courtyard, then some other bar, then a jaunt to the casino and another very late night. Today, I hit the ground running.

I met the woman moderating the panel I am speaking on tomorrow, Ms. Arin Black. Know her. Love her. Aiming to sit for just a few minutes and chat about tomorrow's panel, we sat for over nearly two hours and had a wonderful conversation about everything and nothing, small solids and massive abstracts. An absolute pleasure.

Through the course of the conversation, she told me about how poorly pets were treated during Katrina evaculation efforts. I wanted to cry. Without an ounce of drama, martyrdom or pretentious bullshit, I know with every fiber in my body that I could not leave an animal behind to drown or be shot by the National Guard. How could I live with myself knowing I left an animal to die confused, feeling abandoned, perhaps even feeling punished? I would never be able to live with myself. I wanted to cry as she was recounting memories of people turned away to save their pets, pets being shot as owners were rescued and defiant old ladies refusing to leave beloved pets behind. Makes the heart heavy.

On that note, I need to make a huge shift and go from contemplation-mode to promotional-mode, as I am sitting in front of a camera to be interviewed about Three Fallen Women in just a few.

"VICAR IN A TUTU"

I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to spit it out without any comment.

Just a bit ago, I saw a drag queen. With Down's Syndrome.

"AS I LIVE AND BREATHE, YOU HAVE KILLED POTENTIALLY CURSED ME"

Folks, I have had a very long and slightly (okay very) weird day. And, I still have a ways to go. Let me see if I can get this whole schpiel out.

I got a lot of stuff done, for starters. And, managed to have a whole lot of fun in the process. I started out at Cafe Maspero for the veggie mufaletta, as soon as they opened. Then, I walked and walked and covered the entire French Quarter, just clipping along and taking it all in. I took a few pics for you, too:







Okay, then the tiny dead frog marks where things start getting a little iffy. I walked about a block and saw another chicken bone and laughed, thinking about how months ago, we all joked here on this blog that I had been cursed after finding a chicken bone and now here I am finding a chicken bone in the French Quarter en route to the Vodou museum.



I am walked past a group of men sitting on a stoop eating lunch. As I pass, one of them does a hey-mama-you-re-the-prettiest-lady-in-the-quarter catcall, which I ignore. so, as I pass, he mutters something about regretting ignoring him and he throws a handful of something at my feet! I stop and look at my feet, covered in bits of something that looks like flower petals, granola, breadcrumbs, beans, shells and gravel. What did you throw? What was that? I demand. All the men grinned and laughed and the man responsible for the toss laughs and says You'll find out soon enough.

What! The! Fuck!?

I'm not too superstitious, but you know, why take chances with these sort of things. And besides, I don't know what he did. Did he curse me? Hex me? Bless me? Charm me? I don't know. (Moral of the story kids: Sleep with everyone who whistles at you or you'll be cursed. Wait, no! That's terrible advice. Nevermind.) So, I pressed on to my Vodou place, which only runs on appointment since Katrina. So, I went to the nearby Vodou shops.

The first one I entered, the woman behind the counter, I kid you not, averts her eyes! I greet her pleasantly and she still averts her eyes and asks, a bit agressively, what I need from the store. I felt like I was being pushed out before I was even started. So weird. But, it was interesting enough to stick around. I mean, short of calling the cops or pulling a shiv, she can't make me leave, right? Right. So, I mill around the shop, looking at the odds and ends and dolls and altars and noticed that the majority seems more Santarist than Vodun and wondered about the reported increase of the hispanic population lately and wondered if there was a connection there.

Anyway, she still won't look at me. And, it's kind of freaking me out because she is behaving normally to other customers. So, I sort of hover near the couter and try to ask her some questions about different items, but she still won't look at me. She goes to the back, I hear a muffled conversation, comes out and still nothing! I really don't know what to think at this point, so I start working my way towards to door when she asks me, again pretty demandingly, what I need. Then she tells me-- holy shit, you guys are going to flip out-- she tells me that my "energy" overpowers her energy. What? I started to say something like, Sorry, I didn't realize, I mean, I didn't mean to but she went back to the agro customer service.

I'm not saying she was sane, I'm not saying she was nuts. I'm also not saying this is related to the dead frog or the chicken bone, or the guy throwing stuff at me, but the fact remains that these things all happened together and they are all rather abnormal events. Yes?

Anyway, I split. I went to two other Vodou shops, and a slew of other shops in the area then strolled along the Riverwalk for a litle fresh air, spotting the Aquarium. Water. Yes, water and fishes and plants and shit. That's exactly what will undo the weird-weird.











(This is a section from a whole-wall, two-story fountain in the lobby of the Aquarium. Uh, would anyone be interested in re-creating this for me in my home? No? Eh, well. Worth a shot.)



(This is from the inside of the Aquarium, too. I am loving the bolts in the wall.)





And, before heading back to my hotel for a bit, I stopped at the Holocaust memorial beside the Mississippi. There was a nice breeze and sunshine... and suddenly a teenager shouted to his friends, Damn, it stinks like butt crack here!



Laissez Les Bon Temps Roulez, as they say.

"REEL AROUND THE FOUNTAIN"

It is slightly unnerving to me when I stay up really late and manage to wake up very early and without the prompting of an alarm. Ah, but let me tell you. I woke up sprawled in the center of the greatest king-sized bed ever. I am thinking that my queen-sized bed's days could be numbered. Man, the sleeping is good here.

Anyway, so last night was a scream. I found good company then an excellent veggie burger at Coop's, poked around the Louisiana supreme court building (the statue out front is really menacing and creepy), strolled the antique shops and art galleries of Royal Street, strolled past Cafe du Monde but didn't stop (will do, though, fear not), Jackson Square and its pretty green gardens, all the way down Decatur Street, had my obligatory hurricane on Bourbon Street plus a few other sips here and there as I popped around (couldn't tell you where) laughed at the sight of The Frat House bar, the totally seedy strip clubs (these really skeeved me) and the delightfully lively drag crowd and managed to make it back to my hotel in one piece.

I understand there is a VooDoo museum that I was dangerously close to last night. I must check that out. Long-time readers might recall I think Vodou is really interesting. I feel like I should go just to offset this image from last night-- crossing the street, I look over and realize a powerfully-lit Jesus statue is positioned to make a giant Jesus shadow on the building at night. That'll make ya jump. A good dose of Vodou might balance that out for me, karmically, right?

But today is about work. I'm sure I'll sneak in an adventure as I pop around working and getting my weekend stuff lined up, but for now, away I go.

Oh, and if you're interested, the lit fest is being blogged if you want to keep up with the particulars. I've, ahem, already gotten a tiny, tiny shoutout.

"SPLINTERED IN THE HEAD"

It's my lucky week. I just know it. My hotel is gorgeous, the toiletries smell like ginger (my favorite), my room has a great view, the French Quarter is begging me to go out and I can't help but feel a good sort of mojo in the air. Good times, my friends.

Time to go track down a decent vegetarian nosh up in here.

"STRANGEWAYS, HERE WE COME"

So, my neighbor is getting laid, if any of you are interested in that little factoid. Maybe you can hear it from where you are, too.

So, I'm about to leave for the airport in a bit. Just tying up a few ends first. I fly often enough, but, oy vey, do I stress a litle before every flight. Every flight number can sound like a disaster, like a tv-movie-of-the-week if you think about it enough. Anyway, so I'm not thinking about it. Nor am I thinking about the foggy weather that has descended upon Chicago today. Nor am I thinking about the books that did not arrive at the festival and so I have a bulk of them in my suitcase with my good suit. No, because if I thought about it, I might worry that my luggage would get lost, my plane would crash, etc.

So, I'm not going to do that.

I will, however, be thinking about a fun trip, a fun lit fest, making new friends and having a swank hotel room all to myself. Yes. That's what I'm thinking about this morning.