Thursday, March 23, 2006

Paris Is Lunching

Please please please! For the sake of your keyboards, have a napkin or drool cloth handy before you see What's For Lunch in Paris.

Go say hello to Emily. She's my older sister. She takes wonderful photos, and writes about lunching in France with delightful style.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

A Slow Night at Jicky's

Just around the corner from Genre’s place, and under the jaundiced glow of stale yellow neon, the curious wend their way down a flight of granite steps to a basement dive of the oddest sort, a place called Jicky’s where perfume and booze flow in equal measure. Boys in dresses and girls in tuxes, artists and artificers, chorus kids on a late night wind down. They all find their way in eventually. Grim former chanteuses drink absinthe and chartreuse. Smoke hangs in a blue pall a foot from the low ceiling and mixes with the scent of L’heure Bleu, Shalimar, Mitsuoko, and gin.

Above the bar hangs the sign “Abandon All Hope Of Modernity, Ye Who Enter Here”

The hostess leans against the battered upright piano, white tie and tails in disarray as she pokes a desultory finger at her meager poker for pills winnings from earlier in the evening.

“Bad night, baby?” The pianist looks up.

“Sucked donkey nuts, Sam. Got me a couple a xanax but Lala and MG were bogarting the vicodins. And crap, Dana won all my femiron pills out from under me. I’m tired Sam, ain’t had no one of import here lately.”

“You been busy, Lisa babe. Got your business to look after.”

“Thanks Sam.”

“Don’t look now baby, but you got The Company.”

“Aw crap. Evelyn, get your sagging butt up on the stage and sing like I know you still can.” The hostess drags a leathery faded chanteuse away from her chartreuse and props her in front of the mike.

“Sing it yourself bitch.” Evelyn adjusts her feather boa and pulls up her opera gloves.

“I’m tone deaf. And you can have my chorus boys” At Evelyn’s grudging assent, she grabs several from their table in the back before turning to her trusty pianist. “Play it Sam, play it for Her.”

”You got it sweetheart”

You’re The Snark! You’re George Clooney’s girl,
You’re The Snark! You’ve got wisdom’s pearls,
You’ve a pail of gin from the nearest liquor store,
You're Phyllis Diller,
An alien killer,
You're on the floor!

You're the Hudson! You’re the Chrysler Building,
You're the wit, sharp as a bee sting!
I'm a worthless hack, can’t write jack, in the dark!
But if I’m a serial scrubber,
You’re The Snark!

You’re The Snark, you’ve a crap-o-meter,
You’re The Snark! There’s no one neater,
You're the sapphire blue of a bottle of Bombay,
You're the perfect galley, you're Dan Brown's salary,
You're Tanqueray!

You're the lime, in my gin and tonic
You’re the toe, of a Manolo Blahnik
I'm a Rabbitanian writing on a lark;
But If I’m a serial scrubber, You’re The Snark!

"Play it again, Sam, from the top."

”You got it sweetheart”

You’re The Snark, you’re a bottle of Boodles
You’re The Snark, you’re so kind to poodles
You're the classic lines of a William Morris chair
You're a blogging drama, you're a red-hot mama, you're debonair

You're the prose, of a Booker winner
You're the ems, of the finest printer.
I'm an alien dropper who hasn’t made a mark
But If I’m a serial scrubber,
You’re The Snark!

"Think She liked it,Sam?"

"Can't say baby, but she's having a grand time with the bottle of Junipero and the leftover chorus boys."

"Gotta get busy, Sam. Looks like E. Ann might want to look at the backroom stash of inflatables."

Monday, March 13, 2006


If you read the last post you saw a comment by "emilyk". That's my older sister. We haven't seen each other for a dogs age, so I was just utterly tickled to hear from her. Now, I may be able to write a little but Ann Emily can do just about anything she puts her mind to, even math and science. I suck at those, and at foreign languages. Ann Emily is completely bilingual in French & English. She also did me to honor of leaving a very touching review of my Flash Fiction on Tribe's site. And that got me sentimental and sent me perusing my photo albums... of two little girls born in the 60's

Friday, March 10, 2006

Oh Dear.....

Lest any of us forget how to Be Gracious in the face of disappointments.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Heretic or Not

You scored as Chalcedon compliant. You are Chalcedon compliant. Congratulations, you're not a heretic. You believe that Jesus is truly God and truly man and like us in every respect, apart from sin. Officially approved in 451.

Chalcedon compliant




























Are you a heretic?
created with

Sunday, March 05, 2006

Shamelessly Snoopy Dancing

My first piece of published fiction is up at Flashing In The Gutters, Tribe's incredible site for Flash Fiction!

Needless to say I am tickled silly to be included.

And hugs all around to my fellow Bunions for their time, patience, and support while I whipped an amorphous need to write this story into something beyond that.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Never Rains But It Pours - in a good way

Woot! TWO, count 'em TWO interviews set up for tomorrow. One with a well established customs broker/international freight forwarder and the other with a container ship line! And I e-mailed resumes to these folks just THIS AFTERNOON! Pardon my excitement but I'm a "lifer" in this biz. Some folks start and leave within a year or two. Anyone who stays on tends to be the ones who got hooked in that span of time... We're all just a little crazy around the edges.