August 31, 2005


Part of me wishes I knew any of the 3 women in this photograph, particularly the blonde in the center. From the looks of the back of her head she seems to be engaged in her intimate evening. This bar could be Any Bar in Anyplace, America...however instead, it's a martini and cigar bar my kids (not actual children, rather then-roommates ST and BW) and I used to frequent in Dearborn, MI when we had enough money to enjoy the atmosphere for the price. Said bar depicted here is the Double Olive. The happy accident about this photo is the way the 3 light fixtures relate to the 3 women. I thought I would pay slight tribute to my old stomping grounds in this entry, seeing as I rattle on about my clicheed adventures in NYC as if it were the only city on the map.*ST's drink of choice here at the Double Olive was the Bloody Martini, a Bloody Mary martini combo, obviously, which usually contained, curled in the bottom of its glass, a seriously booze-drenched pickle (versus an olive). When she didn't get the pickle she'd request it. Anyway, ST and BW are now engaged and will marry in September in lovely Detroit. I am standing up for ST and Craig is joining me to revisit the initial place where he and I met, where we stole kisses at various watering holes in and around the metro area. We will fly into Ed McNamara World Gateway on a Friday evening, and possibly will find ourselves throwing back a cocktail at the Double Olive later that night. A buddy of ours from back in the day in the D, JW, has announced that a spin through the Wagon Wheel, another old popular hang out for us circa 2001-2002, is imperative. If in fact JW drives in from Pittsburgh for the wedding as he claims he will, perhaps we will satisfy his request. Although, now that we are all in our late 20's and more aware of what we missed while living in the 313 (cheers, Eminem) possibly we will just take a cab into Royal Oak and mix with the yuppier fashioned crowds there. Plus, I'm not sure if I can endure Craig, JW, and BG's sullied off-key rendition of "Sweet Child of Mine" this much later in my life. That and several pitchers of Miller Lite and you've experienced the Wheel. Ah, and encounters with bitter ex-girlfriends giving chilled looks as they stalk through the parking lot. Oh, the days.*This past week has been really hard (understatement; sorry, my words aren't right and I can't do the situation its due justice) on the states of Louisiana and Mississippi. Mother Nature has displayed her frank fierceness in the touchdown of this recent hurricane. Living down here has widened my eyes to the impact weather can have...not that I wasn't aware living in the Midwest...although, truthfully, weather and additionally all of U.S. news has become more powerful to me now, having left a region of the country I've always known. That may make such little sense, but it's almost as if I must keep one ear to the ground for something to happen where my family and other friends live, now that I am away. My dad called me last night to check on Craig and me, make certain we were out of harm's way. I assured my dad we're unscathed. My dad's chronology of the weather was a little bit off because he was in Dallas earlier in the week, which was when Atlanta and northern Georgia experienced tornadoes and hard rain. But it was a sweet gesture for my dad to think of us.*Today I purchased our tickets to see Liz Phair at the Roxy in October. Against probably better financial judgement, but I'm grateful nonetheless, Craig bought us tickets to see Vince Vaughn's comedy tour (Vince is hosting and doing interim improv, only) in late September. This weekend we see Jack Johnson at Chastain Amphitheater. I am really lucky to have Craig who likes events and happenings equally if not more than I.

August 30, 2005


This morning was a 2 cups of coffee one. I rarely do that anymore, and in fact last night before making Craig and I breakfast for dinner (breakfast being a theme that may recur along the way) I pulled our box of green tea from the pantry to bring into work (we bought it one night to drink with stir fry and haven't had it since) and promptly forgot the tea on the counter this morning. Thus I resort to 2 cups of coffee. This is how it works, the first cup of coffee is nice and very "morning" in character, the second is nostalgia for the first cup and wanting it to still feel like first thing in the morning (I am not a morning person out of the gate but after an hour of yawning and getting there I love it) and the reason I can't have a third is because of those jitters, I get the jitters. I will never forget the time my friend MP from college offered me 2 Excedrin the morning after a night binging at the bars and we all went to breakfast at the greasiest and most storybook diner in Bloomington, IN called Ladyman's Cafe, and by the time the caffeine ran its course, I was all shakes and frayed nerves. I couldn't lift my water, my hand felt like it was not an extension of my arm. Regardless of the exploits the night before, I still think it was too much caffeine in those Excedrin.*In addition to making us egg and sausage burritos and potatoes for dinner last night I also linked this blog to two of my best friends from college, two talented women. I hope to figure out more links to more talented friends but for the time being, I'm still slow going.*I somewhat indicated unintentionally that Craig and I have been to NYC only twice together, which is certainly not the case at all. We started making trips to the City in May of 2002, the month after he was transferred to Hartford. Neither of us had ever been so our first trips and all trips since to NYC have been together. Well, he has taken buddies and has gone on business, as well, but all of my trips there have been with him. We have done amazing things there: Chicago on Broadway, Circle Line boat tours (twice, two years in a row on exactly the same day, how uncanny and indeliberate!), Proof on Broadway starring Anne Heche, ice skating in Central Park, Judy Chicago's "The Dinner Party" at the BMA (which Craig later dubbed "that big girl table"...ha ha), party at LC's in Brooklyn, Yankees games, a good friend's art hanging on the walls of a bar, the Rolling Stones at the Garden...likely I am leaving out the smaller things, but these are those memories that stand out. Plus, we took the train from New Haven one time, just to say we did it. And on our way back, our train ride back to his car after the weekend, we broke up. We've broken up before but that's the ugliest time that stands out: on the train leaving the City.*Since Craig builds things, he particularly fancied our long walks taking in the architecture, one of his favorites being the Flat Iron Building, of course. I like this shot of it because the sun was just pink enough to cast that glow.

August 29, 2005


Yesterday's weather enabled us to spend the entire day on Lake Allatoona. We met the R's and the B's (the B's are also Douglasville dwellers...PR and CR met them at a bar and it was quickly shared that they all hail from Indiana, like Craig and me) early enough in the morning to get lathered up in spf 15 or 30, depending on the degree of risk willing to be taken by each respectively. Craig opted for 15 against the recommendations of the R's, who were wearing 30 the weekend before but their skin still ignited. He got fairly lucky and wound up with one of those sweet pink toasted colors instead of the glaring red we've both battled after afternoons thinking we weren't getting any sunshine. Sun's pretty vicious in Georgia. Anyway, we had a great time. The R's brought Corona, the B's brought Sol, and we brought the ever-loved Miller Lite. All the beer we had didn't last us the whole day, even with pregnant CR not drinking! Beer goes down a lot easier when you're in the sun and chattering with friends and having a splendid Sunday. AB was making me laugh like a lunatic because she wondered if the boat was going to capsize, she confessed to Not Knowing Whether Or Not She Might Get Sea Sick, and when she and I finally resigned to jumping in the lake to break the proverbial seal, she very maternally explained, as I tucked back into my bathing suit top, why she had selected the "sport" suit instead of the regular bikini suit for the outing. This tip was reaffirmed wise when later, Craig, drunk and flirtatiously jabbing me as if to push me off the boat, managed to accidentally jab the bikini top right off its goods. I shrieked like a girl and said something to the effect of, Get away from me, I don't want to see your face! Admitted over reaction to an innocent and unintentional blunder. The B's confirmed that they would be happy for us to join them for an Atlanta Thanksgiving. That will be a relief, to stay in town for that holiday after all the traveling Craig and I are doing together and apart through September. I believe we will go to the B's, do the turkey thing, stuffing thing, and then the other B Thanksgiving tradition which is a hockey game...that will be a great time.*We have known the R's pretty much since we started seeing each other, Craig and I. We met them in Detroit in 2001: PR worked with Craig and me at the airport, then PR was transferred to Hartford (after marrying CR in Terre Haute, IN...a wedding which Craig and I both attended but not together as each other's dates). PR and Craig have since worked in Hartford together, Syracuse, and now Atlanta. We have gone to NYC twice with the R's. Last trip was Labor Day weekend of last year, at which time PR led us there believing we had tickets to see the Yankees 3rd row behind home plate. We drove together from Syracuse to the City, stayed at the Carlton on Madison (newly refurbished and gorgeous for the rate, we loved it!) and hit Manhattan that Friday for what turned into a free dinner in Little Italy (PR went inside to check on our reservations and when he emerged, he announced that his subcontractor buddy had called ahead and arranged to pay for us!)...and after a fabulous (free!) Italian meal with wine and Italian spring water and the works, we were then suggested by the aforementioned subcontractor (via telephone call) to head to Eugene, where some sort of related-to-subcontractor-buddy individual would ensure our entry. We pulled up to the curb in our cab and hopped out and there, PR was again treated like a V.I.P. and it was walkie-talkied that the "R Party" had arrived. Partied like rockstars, crashed in our respective rooms at the Carlton, and Saturday morning we would wake to get ready for our trip to the Bronx to see baseball 3 rows back. That is, until PR rubbed his hung over eyes and really looked at those tickets to find that they had been for the previous day's game. Damn! But we hit the Bronx, anyway, and wound up sitting in the out field. PR managed to order the one beer out of a sleeve of who knows how many whose plastic rim was lined with tiny NY Yankees symbols. This, said concession man to PR, meant that all of PR's subsequent beers would cost him the Low Low price of 5 dollars, if memory serves me correctly. Regardless, PR paid way less than Craig and I for our ballpark beverages. Yankees game followed by Mexican dinner in the Village, pitchers of margaritas, and a drunken attempt at dining-and-dashing on mine and Craig's and PR's parts...meanwhile, sober CR calmly mitigated our disgust with the gradual decline of our waiter's service and we wound up paying the due amount for our dinners. Glad CR was able to persuade us to act like moral upright citizens in the midst of a lovely weekend in the City. Sober myself, I would have never participated in such a stunt! And that's the truth.

August 27, 2005


Today has been incredibly productive for a Saturday. Craig (left undescribed as of yet: he is my boyfriend and roommate and best friend in the world) left for work around 5.30 (after closing himself in the bathroom without turning off the alarm, thereby leaving me to punch snooze when it blasted some Soundgarden song at 5.06 seeing as I don't know how to shut the alarm off...not impossible to learn, I'm sure, yet he always takes care of it, so why bother?) and I continued to sleep for several more hours. No Saturday morning breakfast for us. He rarely works Saturdays but this morning was an exception and I wasn't about to make our usual morning fare without him around to help me consume it. When I woke up in the 9 range, I decided to clean the apartment until so inclined to gear up for the apartment pool. Our apartment pool is notably pretty, surrounded by lush foliage and blooms of kinds and with a fountain or addition, the deck is large, which is nice for nice mornings/afternoons when all the college kids arrive with their coolers of Bud Light and cell phones and fish stories of how drunk they got at Buckhead Saloon the night before. Buckhead Saloon must be the hot spot; I hear of it frequently when I go to the pool. Anyway, I didn't stay long. Craig wanted lunch so I came home, then he went to be fitted for his tux for his sister's wedding in October and I struck up laundry and finished cleaning the apartment.*We have been to Montreal twice, the second time because we loved it so well the first time. First time around I professed to be some sort of bilingual intellect (having taken French, you know, through high school and twice in college, all required) but when we rolled into Quebec, road signs broadcasted things that I couldn't translate. And when we sat down for our first dinner out, after checking into the B&B, I wasn't able to ask, as recommended by tour books, "Parlez vous-anglais?" It was like a quick case of stage fright. Craig deftly stepped in for me, mispronouncing it to sound like "parlay vou ahn glay?" No "zzz." Hey, at least he tried. The joint we found for good breakfast in Montreal is called, simply, "Cafeteria." We loved it so well first time around, too, that two years later when we returned, we gave them our business again. And were even served by the same adorable French-Canadian waiter.*Tonight, a trip to the grocery, some dinner, wine, and beer for tomorrow's adventure with the R's on their boat. Hopefully a good dose of Atlanta sunshine.

August 26, 2005


Today I did some reading in what I'm finding is more commonly referred to as the "blogosphere." This is a new world to me and I'm a late bloomer as it would seem. I'm still unsure that this is a decent venue for my honesty but I'm going with it regardless. Likely changes to posts will occur frequently until I've established a comfortable voice, as well as an interesting enough rapport with my own "page." I still can't figure out if I'm being seen or not, or if I am supposed to acknowledge myself somehow to others, but likely it's better that way for the time being. * My friend Timmy, having recently relocated to Ft. Lauderdale, witnessed his first sweep by a Category 1 Katrina last night/this morning, but I haven't heard from him with regard to his experience. We will see the aftermath in Georgia if the storm swings northeast this weekend. Atlanta is the Seattle of the Southeast (with respect to rain). At least, my first summer living here is that.*Tonight I imagine I will play with this a little more. Craig might make me a cocktail or two, but we won't drink nearly the colorful arrangement of beverages I drank the morning/day of last year's St. Louis - Soulard Mardi Gras fest. My crazy Asian friend and his wife brought bottles of booze to my Miss Sophisticate apartment and while I slung eggs and potatoes they stirred wild Nawlins-style coolers. We spiked Gatorade and smuggled it on the shuttle downtown, rode into the pulsing heart of Soulard, and wandered drunk and happy through the happy drunk crowds of beads and costumes. Although I realize that that was not 100% the birthplace of the "human Arch" (a tradition actually discovered at a Cardinals game months prior) it certainly was the place where the crazy Asian and I were ordered by his wife to pose and re-pose until we captured the real Arch in the arch of our arms for a celebratory St. Louis photo memory. I would include the end result but want to protect the innocent...for the time being. Off to play in Atlanta traffic.

August 25, 2005


I figured once I got it started I would become magically inspired to publish myself whole. But now that it's begun, I'm feeling somewhat apprehensive about my abilities...Alura, this test is for you, sweetheart. More to follow once confidence is restored.