Shadow Shot Sunday

New York, NY
The dresser next to my bed

                    



                            

                     http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/

Anarchy number three

More fun with signs in the kitchen at work.  This is the latest addition to the gallery:

          

Here we go again

It's happening again.  I hear it everywhere I go.  An entire country has developed a fetish for a sport that in reality, they know or care nothing about.  It's like the fucking Olympics all over again.

Really people?  Soccer?  You're trying to make me believe you give a flying fuck about soccer?  Before June 11th, you couldn't name a single player on the American team, could you?  No, you couldn't.  Don't lie to me.

The last time most of these people watched a soccer game was during the last World Cup four fucking years ago.  Now everyone's running around, gravely concerned about whether or not the U.S. will advance to the next round.  Again, I'm really not sure how winning a soccer game makes one country superior to another, but I guess that's the world we're living in now.  Nice to know we've got our priorities in order.

Although I have to admit, I can appreciate Kimi's reasons for watching.  As she likes to say, basically, the World Cup is a collection of the most beautiful men on the planet running around all sweaty and delicious on TV for four weeks.  I can get behind that.  Today at work, when Chile and Spain were about to play, she grabbed me and positioned me in front of the TV as the camera slowly panned across the players close-up as they stood for the national anthem.

Ah.  Yes.  I think I'm starting to see what the fuss is all about...

Well said... again...

I know I just posted this a few days ago.  But the other night I was, uhhh, let's call it tired, and I decided to edit it for some reason and then I fucked it up even worse and then somehow I deleted it completely.  How?  I have no idea.  Why?  Because I'm an idiot, I guess.  So here it is, Banksy revisited...


"1.7 billion people have no access to clean drinking water.  20 billion people live below the poverty line.  Every day hundreds of people are made to feel physically sick by morons at art shows telling them how bad the world is but never actually doing anything about it.  Anybody want a free glass of wine?"

                                                                                   ~Banksy


As I said before, Banksy kicks ass, without a doubt.  This is a piece he did in New Orleans a while ago, on Kerlerec and Rampart.  The covered it with plexiglass to protect it from that Gray Ghost bag o'douche.

                      

Unnecessary piles of paper

For a dead lady, my mother is pretty popular.  See that down below?  That's a coffee table damn near five feet long, covered in a month's worth of junk mail.

                      


  Cable companies, phone companies, maid services, all begging for business.  Every charitable organization under the sun begging for a handout.  Coupons for this.  Coupons for that.  All in all, a bunch of dead trees for absolutely no fucking reason.  It has to stop.  If she keeps getting this much garbage, there will be no room for MY mail when I move in next month.

I'm in NY this week, busy again Getting Shit Done.  The doormen have been holding her mail for me while I was gone for the past month.  When I got here Monday, he handed me two huge piles of crap.  It's startling to see it in one big bulk like that.  Day to day a piece here, two or three there, doesn't seem like that much.  But try saving all that crap for a month.  Seriously.  See how big the pile gets.

I hate it.  I truly do.  I want it to stop.  But I don't know what to do about it, really.  Any ideas?

Thoughts on Treme

I've held back my thoughts on Treme so far, because I wanted to see the entire season before I made any judgements.  The season finale was Sunday, so now I feel comfortable sharing my opinions with you.  For those who haven't seen the show yet, don't worry.  I won't ruin any storylines for you.

First of all, it's a great show.  Well presented, extremely well written.  My hat is definitely off to the writers, I can understand why everyone was so nuts for The Wire, although I still have no interest in seeing that show.  I'm only interested in Treme because it's so desperately, painfully, close and personal to me.

A little too close.  A little too personal.

It is, without a doubt, the most accurate portrayal of the city I love the world has ever seen  It's on the same level as Confederacy of Dunces, which is quite possibly the Greatest Book of All Time.

But what's difficult for me about seeing my city and my people so accurately portrayed is that now the air is ripe for misinterpretation.  People have always been sadly misinformed about New Orleans, so many people have a vision in their minds that's so far off it's depressing.  It got worse after Katrina.  Much worse.  I had just gotten to San Francisco, and I can't tell you how many times I had to walk away because some yuppie douchebag fuck who had never even BEEN to New Orleans was telling me "facts" about my hometown and I wanted to smack the fuck out of him.

Oh, sorry.  Did I just go off on a little rant there?  Oops.  That's not what this post is about...

Anyway, I'm afraid the same thing might happen with Treme.  Now people all over the country are going think they know all about New Orleans because they watched a stupid fucking TV show a few times.  They'll half understand or half remember what they saw, then run around talking shit, getting everything all misconstrued.  And then they'll start talking shit to me, and I'll want to smack the fuck out of them.

I was talking about it with my father, who has been to New Orleans many times to visit me and knows the city and her people well.  He said, "Man, if I had never been there, or only been once and didn't know what that place was all about, I don't know what the fuck I would think after watching that show."

"I know.  They're making us look like... like..."

"Losers.  They're making you guys look like a bunch of losers."

Ouch.  Thanks, Dad...

It's kind of true though, I can't lie.

But fuck it.  They're also making us look like a bunch of people who know how to drink, dance, enjoy life, play music, and have a good time better than anyone else on the planet.  Period.  And it's great seeing all the musicians I know and love so well finally getting a little recognition.

So yeah, overall, I give the show two thumbs up.  It's not perfect, but nothing is.  There are a few things that aren't quite right, mostly minor.  My biggest qualm?  That fucking street musician couple.  Seriously?  When have you EVER seen street musicians so well dressed and gorgeous all the time, and able to afford nice apartments in the Marigny, especially in New Orleans?  I can't even afford such nice clothes, and I have a fucking JOB.  Come on now, guys.  I thought we were going for accuracy here...

But I forgive you.  Can't wait for season two.

Shadow Shot Sunday

New Orleans, Louisiana
June 13th, 2010

Jackson Square and St. Louis Cathedral on my birthday.

    


                  

              http://heyharriet.blogspot.com/

facebook sucks...

...because if it weren't for facebook, I wouldn't have had to have this conversation today:

(both of us sitting in the kitchen on our laptops)

Me: "Hey, you changed your relationship status to 'in a relationship and it's complicated'.  How are we complicated?  As a matter of fact, weren't we saying JUST YESTERDAY how glad we were that our relationship is so uncomplicated and drama-free?  What the fuck?"

Him: "Well, it IS complicated.  Your status says 'single'.  If your status says 'single' and mine says 'in a relationship', you don't think that's complicated?"

Me: "What?  What the fuck are you talking about?  Are you serious?  Besides, I AM single, technically.  We're not married."

Him: "Not the point.  Don't you want people to know that someone's hittin' it every night?"

Me: "I'm sure you could have found a better way to phrase that, Sweetheart.  Anyway, the people who need to know that information know already.  Does EVERYONE on facebook have to know EVERY tiny little detail of my personal life at every moment?"

Him: "Fine, I'll change it.  What should I put?  That we're in an open relationship?"

Me: "No!"

Him: "Why not?  We ARE in an open relationship!  We're totally open with each other!  We talk about everything!"

Me: "Oh, fuck you.  That's not what that means and you know it."

Him: "So you're saying that people might get the wrong idea?"

Me: "Exactly."

Him: "And you keeping your relationship status as 'single' won't give people the wrong idea about what's actually going on with your relationship status?"

Me: (long pause)  "Oh, fuck you..."

He won, in the end.  I changed my damned status to 'in a damned relationship'.  Seriously though?  Is this how it works now?  Is this how relationships are defined?  According to facebook status?

"Hey, what's happening with that girl you were seeing?"

"I think that's done.  Last week her status said we were complicated, but now it says she's single."

I give up.  I'm waving a white flag.  I hereby relinquish the remaining shreds of my privacy.  Anything you want to know, I'll tell you.  What color are my panties right now?  Black.  When was the last time I took a shit?  About two hours ago.  Who do I secretly wish I could fuck?  My boss.

Seriously.  Whatever you want to know.  Just check my status...

Corporate art

The hotel was hosting some yearly conference for some big company.  Anne and I had the dubious honor of providing them breakfast, lunch, snacks and beverage service as they sat through their God-awful, boring-ass, ridiculous meetings for the past two days.  We got to watch as they tried to keep their eyes open, most likely wishing they could put them out with ice-picks.  We got to run back into the kitchen, eat leftover cantaloupe, and discuss how grateful we were that we didn't have to sit through such meetings.

Some people looked like they were diligently taking notes.  But when everyone got up and left and we cleared their shit away, this is mostly what we found...

                

          

                    

                    

        

Familiar faces

It's what I love the most about being home.

We were in the kitchen at work the other day, polishing glasses and such, when Clayton came bursting in.

"Guys.  Table 35, guy in the white tux.  Memorize his face.  We need to take extra good care of him anytime he's in here.  Big-time money, lots of influence in the city.  His last name is Maselli..."

My head popped up like a piece of toast.  "Maselli?  Is his first name Frank?"

Clayton: "Yeah."

A huge grin spread across my face.  "No shit?  Frank's here?  Oh, baby!  I've gotta go say hi!"

So I went marching out to table 35.  Clayton followed behind with a semi-worried look on his face.

By the way, if you haven't figured it out yet, Clayton is one of our dining room managers.  He's a damn good one and a pleasure to work for, so it was fun watching his nervous look disappear when Frank lifted me up off the floor in a big bear hug and started covering my face with kisses.

Frank was my landlord for five years.  He always said I was his favorite.  I think it was true.

It was great to catch up with him, he was delighted to know that I'm back in town.  It was also adorable watching Clayton trip over his tongue trying to be cool about the whole thing.  Actually, to be honest, he was pretty smooth.

Frank: "This one right here?  She's all right, you know.  She's a good girl."

Clayton: "Absolutely, sir.  That's why I hired her."

Frank: "You're lucky to have her you know!  I hope you're treating her right."

Clayton: "Absolutely, sir!  We are VERY lucky to have her, and we treat her the very best we possibly can."

Frank: "You'd better..."

I love my familiar faces.  I love it that they love me too.  It's going to be really hard to leave here next month...