Friday, July 27, 2012

Overheard in NOLA

From a woman, getting into a cab:

Take me somewhere not here.

It was so not a good night, for her. But an intriguing little snippet of someone's life for me.

Those are southern Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Monday, July 23, 2012

Thinky Thoughts

Lots in my brain the last few days...

Aurora, Colorado. We were living there on April 20, 1999. Columbine. The SGM gave up his automatic weapon after that shooting because it made him rethink if people really needed access to that kind of weaponry. It was, simply, horrific. I know I'm not the only one remembering it in the wake of the movie theatre shootings. So much pain.

I still have my t-shirt. Timber saw me wear it once, and asked me if he could have it, because it was cool. My answer was no, because I knew it actually wasn't.

Sally Ride. "Ride, Sally Ride" was the chant. She was smart and she was beautiful, debunking so many myths just by showing up. She deserved to be up there.

She wasn't just part of a generation that opened doors for me, she was one of the individuals who came crashing through those doors, exploding them open. Thank you.

The Muppets. For the win. Not only are they breaking ties, they are refusing to make money. Check out the statement. So many reasons to love them.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the definition of class ~ delivered by a stuffed frog.

Best Friends, Old Friends. My best friend and my oldest friend both had birthdays this weekend. Interestingly enough, while their birthdays haven't changed, this the the first ever year I've been aware that they are within two days of each other. Seriously? I have known Nemeria since we were in 4th grade and been with the Divine M for (oh dear lord, hold onto your butts) twenty years now and have just now put together when their birthdays are.

The Divine M


The truth is that I would be utterly lost without etiher them. But they've stuck around, so I'm just going to keep being grateful. And try to remember their birthdays.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Fitting In

As I have written here before, I tend to stand out. This is not anything intentional on my part, in that I do not dress to shock or make a statement. I have always said that if I were ever to stop standing out, I would be okay with that, would still dress the way I do, because it's not about any of that.

Over the last several months, I've realized I meant what I always said. Because here in New Orleans? I don't stand out. In my purple dress and my purple parasol, I was told once that "that's an awesome outfit, ma'am" and in my black lace camisole carrying my black lace parasol, I had a little boy inform me that he loved my umbrella. And the rest of the time... I just fade into the scenery.

I am more colorful than some. Not nearly as colorful as others. Mostly, though, I am just me. For the first time in my life, for the first time anywhere ~ I am just me. The Boston Pobble. And I am infinitely okay with this.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

My Own Private Noir

It's been a while. There's been...stuff. Including a busted computer and crappy internet. But I'm back. Because tonight was one of those nights.

We had a storm here in New Orleans. The lightning lit up the sky like special effects out of a movie. Neither Lithus, nor I, have ever seen anything like this. When it was just a burst, it would burst ~ and burst again, and again, and again, as if someone were standing offstage, flicking the lights. When it would crackle cloud to cloud, it would break off into two, three, sometimes even four branches. When it drove itself into the ground, it would spike down and then relight itself and relight itself again.

We grabbed our umbrellas and went out into it, standing in front of the old courthouse, watching the lights, listening to the booms and the rumbles. Under the streetlamps flickering with actual gas. And that's when the music started. Under this storm, in the rain, with the gas lamps...came the low, slow sound of a single saxophone.

I am not even making this shit up.

At that moment, we gave ourselves up to the night. There was nothing else to do, no other choice to make.

She walked up to me and asked me to take the job. I could tell she was trouble and my streak of bad luck had been as long as her legs. The last thing I needed in my life was this dame. But then I saw the the look in her eye. My luck was about to change...for the worse.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.