blue girl

Cookin' Through My Own Challenge (New 50-100-Whenever Challenge, Post #44)

Another friend just returned home from Paris. She pshaw’d my language in the post below. This from the girl who sent me porn!

Mauvaise fille !

She called because she had just seen Julie & Julia. Reminded her of me.

I had also just seen the movie. Which reminded me of her. She’s a fabulous cook. And I hope to be invited to taste her Beef Bourguignonne.

She saw me in Amy Adams, the blogger. Love the comparison, but where’s my book deal? My movie?!

Bonjour ? Little, Brown? Nora Ephron ?

Julie Powell skipped days in her challenge, too!

Or probably not.

*Raspberries*

Voice from the Past (New 50-100-Whenever Challenge, Post #42)

I called my printer friend. Someone picked up. Wasn’t who I was expecting.

“Republicans R Us Printing. Who’s this?”

“BG.”

“Still soundin’ good. You still lookin’ good?”

“Who’s this?!”

It was Paulie Walnuts. Haven’t seen him in forever.

“Hey! You still lookin’ good?”

“No. Those days are gone.”

“Tony Soprano still lookin’ good?”

“No. Mostly he looks like he’s gonna throw up. No business.”

The way I remember Paulie Walnuts looking is terrified. The night our offices caught fire. He panicked. Decided to “save” a large bag of packing peanuts. I guess that makes him more of a Paulie Peanuts.

Nowhere to Go (New 50-100-50 Challenge, Post #41)

My stepfather didn’t talk about people much. Not that he was so good-hearted. More, I think, because he didn’t give a damn what anyone said or did.

The person I remember him not giving a damn about most, though, was Ted Kennedy. He didn’t like him. At all. And he’d let you know it.

Kennedy was diagnosed with a brain tumor eight days after my stepfather was diagnosed with lung cancer. I heard the news on the radio. Then I put in my Abbey Road CD. And I cried all the way to the hospital.

I had had enough.

Daydream Believer (New 50-100-50 Challenge, Post #40)

Beautiful day and the Monkees blared from my speakers as I sat at the red light.

A 40ish man held a sign at the corner. Thin with long blonde hair, he had a five o’clock shadow even though it was only one o’clock. The breeze blew his linen shirt back exposing his white tank top.

He held his sign; eyes vacant. The closest person to him -- a man driving a white van -- never looked his way at all.

The blonde man’s sign read “HELP ME”.

The EMS driver hit the gas when the light turned green. And never looked back.

So Many Men, So Little Time

James Wolcott's live blogging Mad Men tonight. Tune in and click over at 10 Eastern.

At 10 Eastern, I gotta tune in to this. But, at 10:30, I'll change the channel, click over and play catch up at VF. Then watch the first half hour at 11.

Gotta figure out a way to fit both Don and Ray in. And Wolcott, too. What else is a girl to do?

The Mother of All Doubt (New 50-100-50 Challenge, Post #39)

Seeing BK, I panicked, What do I do now?!

Same thing I asked myself when I first saw him 18 years ago.

I gave him Benadryl, which the doctor said was the right thing to do.

Go me!

I said to my mom later, “Gotta always have Benadryl. Bayer. Never know when you’ll need it.”

Panicky herself, she said, “Everyone should have it and keep it right inside their front door!”

I laughed, thinking, Maybe not right inside the front door.

Or maybe so. Maybe better to think that way than to always think you have no idea what you’re doing.

The Devil's Strip (New 50-100-50 Challenge, Post #38)

Blue Kid winced, “This is so unneeded.”

“It is unneeded, honey.”

In the passenger seat, cringing, he moved around trying to relieve the pain. Wasn’t working.

Earlier, I heard his friend shout, “Mrs. Blue Girl! Hurry! BK’s been stung by a million bees!”

I raced out into the driveway, where BK stood, stripped down to his boxer shorts, shaking and sweating. He had been stung multiple times while cutting the grass.

The doctor said he’ll be okay. He’s sleeping now.

The bees that emerged from the ground are still swarming the lawn mower that was abandoned in the devil’s strip.

Steamed (New 50-100-50 Challenge, Post #37)

Walking the sweltering Philadelphia streets, I passed a row of carriage horses standing perfectly still, their heads drooping low.

Poor things. It was so hot I almost stripped then jumped into the fountain nearby.

Instead I ducked into a bar and took a seat. As the Irish bartender, who pronounced water wooooter approached, we watched a horse-drawn carriage go ga-lopping by, pulling tourists.

He said, “Disgusting! They’re probably slamming Michael Vick. Don’t they know what they’re doing to that poor horse? Hypocrites. Burns me up!”

I drank my ice woooter as we watched the horse disappear from sight.

h/t Dennis Perrin.

Kids Today Didn't Invent Dumb

Please do yourself a favor and go read Glenn Kenny's post, Young and dumb versus old and in the way.

What a great post. Love it.

Dilapidation

My view, two blocks up, looking north.