My Frannell, the fabric of my life. Thanks to the guest blogging and my, you've straightened up the place nicely.
Friends, Romans, Countrymen, I have returned and even thought as much to bring my aunt home with me. We had a ginormous time in Sicily and to celebrate the sebbeth I was in Taormina making a significant donation to the local ceramics industry. FedEx willing I'll see it next week. I fell in love with Taormina and will share some pix with your shortly, laundry is calling
Love to all and malice towards some.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Hooters and Home Depot
I am not sure I know what to write on this here blog. I originally thought that this blog was created as a testament to the year of our Spats turning the big 4-0. That as the year progressed, he would do something once a month in honor of the occasion.
I will say that in honor of my friend turning 40 this year, I am going to share with you something I learned recently.
I travel all over this great country bringing joy to the masses. One week I might be in LA, another week I am in Boise. There are two things that bind us all together. North and South. East and West. It is two places that in every city in America you can find Sanctuary. It is the only fact that is true of Ft. Worth TX and Washington DC.
Hooters and Home Depot.
You will find both of those establishments in every single city in America, and while I don't frequent either of them. (In all honesty I went to Hooters for the first time two weeks ago to get a gift certificate for a friend) I find comfort in seeing their signs from the highway as we pull into town. It is kind of like being in a strange place and running into a relative you hate at the grocery store. Comforting.
yes, I am a woman. I should have a problem with Hooters, but I hear the wings are great, so who am I to judge. I just wish there was another equally as comforting a place called BALLS.
Well that wouldn't work. Men love boobs. Most women just tolerate Balls. So it would called BROAD SHOULDERS.
Yes the female equivalent would be Broad Shoulders.
What would be the female Home Depot??? Hmmm. I am open to suggestion. I actually love Home Depot, but it does lose me after a time. This is not to say I am a home improvement moron. I am/am not. Ok I am. I am a home improvement moron, but I could make you a pair of earrings UNPARALLELED by any dude who could fix your house. And Not for Nothing but the Home Depot blows Lowes out of the water. The selection for dowel screws completely sucks at Lowes. They had only three sizes. Ridiculous.
Honestly, I have no idea. I was with my boss today at Lowes and he was picking out screws and hardware and I was looking at ceramic sink bowls and dreaming of my log cabin house on the north face of Mt Hood outside Portland (my dream which doesn't exist)(yet) He was bitching and moaning about the selection. I was yawning.
BUT
My point is there is no female equivalent of Home Depot because it is ambisexual. ( Is that a word??) No matter what, I did think of Tony. Tony would appreciate my comfort in seeing Hooters and Home Depot. And that is saying something, cuz not everyone would.
I miss Tony.
I really do.
Admit it...you do too.
-GirlFran-
Friday, April 11, 2008
Post script.
GirlFran will tell you that blogspot bites sometimes, if the HTML is screwy please click on the title of the post, or toggle the elevator tool to shake the snowglobe that appears to be my blog. This will help you read our genius. Sheesh.
Ciao! Blogsitter!
As elluded to over the past two weeks Auntie Goosey and I have decided (against popular opinion and
mundane restraining orders) to re-embark on international goodwill spreading. We did a similar trip
in 1999, and labelled it "The Countess and The Pool Boy" Tour. We came home with great memories,
expensive leather goods, and double pneumonia. After joint hospitalization and recovery we made a
secret pact that we would do this again. The time has come. Sicily, Beware!
We are much more responsible now, and commitments must be met. Lucy has yet another toy poodle
and similarly I have my two blogs. She's kenneled her anchor, and I have Frannelled mine.
'Frannelled' you may ask? This is my guest blogger for as long as she wishes. She may even have to
write the obituary (God Forbid) for humor's sake. Fran and I met in Newport, RI and fell madly in
love, alright, we fell madly in a stupor of our own creation. Her talents are legendary and her ability
to sniff out cool scenes and fab people, even greater. She'll tell you all in her own blog, if you wish,
ask her for invite. There's always room. She may share grand stories from back in the day and may
relay reports from the reunion tour of The Countess and The Pool Boy. Mind you this is in between
cities and sticking her hand up a puppet's ass. Fran's currently a puppet wrangler on the National
Tour of 'Avenue Q". Without further ado, I present
Frannellannellannellannellannellannellannellannellannellannellannell.
mundane restraining orders) to re-embark on international goodwill spreading. We did a similar trip
in 1999, and labelled it "The Countess and The Pool Boy" Tour. We came home with great memories,
expensive leather goods, and double pneumonia. After joint hospitalization and recovery we made a
secret pact that we would do this again. The time has come. Sicily, Beware!
We are much more responsible now, and commitments must be met. Lucy has yet another toy poodle
and similarly I have my two blogs. She's kenneled her anchor, and I have Frannelled mine.
'Frannelled' you may ask? This is my guest blogger for as long as she wishes. She may even have to
write the obituary (God Forbid) for humor's sake. Fran and I met in Newport, RI and fell madly in
love, alright, we fell madly in a stupor of our own creation. Her talents are legendary and her ability
to sniff out cool scenes and fab people, even greater. She'll tell you all in her own blog, if you wish,
ask her for invite. There's always room. She may share grand stories from back in the day and may
relay reports from the reunion tour of The Countess and The Pool Boy. Mind you this is in between
cities and sticking her hand up a puppet's ass. Fran's currently a puppet wrangler on the National
Tour of 'Avenue Q". Without further ado, I present
Frannellannellannellannellannellannellannellannellannellannellannell.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
The Countess and The Pool Boy.
"God I hope she doesn't fall down those stairs, " he prayed watching the aunt of a lifetime traverse the Florentine bookstore's entryway. "She better not take another shitter like she did the last time in Venice. " His aunt's grace was legendary. Her last time in Italy brought her home with a broken wing and a little dust on her bravada. The rumor was that she had one to many negroni's and the gin made her spin. "Yeah, Spin and Martini, from the Mickey Mouse club. I'll have to file that image away for a story sometime in some bar."
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his favorite fleece. He had fleeced the fleece from a niece, no actually from his favorite sister Sal a special Christmas two years prior. She hadn't even had the box open a minute before he swooped in and adorned his self entitled self with her gift. She knew in the instant that she would never wear that jacket. The light rain of Florence didn't bother him from enjoying his smoke. He hid behind a lamp post, in his dark sunglasses and watched his little bird shop her way around the store. It was ripe with leather bound tomes, beautiful parchments and lithographs from days gone by. It was exactly the type of place (of type) that he hoped they would find together. Three days from now they would be in Venice and then two days more they'd be back in the States, they would have this adventure behind them. On to the next!
A pack of tourist began pestering him for directions in some sort of Nipponese Neapolitan. It seemed only fitting that he exhale a ring of smoke at the tallest of the bunch and give them direcitons in self designed Span-Italian. He had created this language out of high school Spanish and years of working in restaurant's projected kitchen Italian. They were most appreciative and he flicked his extinguished butt towards the smallest of the retreating posse. He prided himself on the trip that he and his seventy something aunt were on. She never married but was witness to the raising of six siblings in her brother's house. Granted she went squirrely sometimes with opinions that were laced with crazy. It as like she had multiple lives and the overlapping of them confused her opinions. At one time she could be as straight as a novice, and another time she's hopping out a window to catch a train to NYC. Her and those trains. She was heavy into planning her next adventure with the 'Girls' to the Orient Express. She rolls with the ladies who lunch and their sect was going abroad next fall on the luxury train. Broad. Have to file that one away as well. Where was she now?
She was so concerned that she was going to be a hindrance but he welcomed this lady on his arm with all of her explosive conversation and fluctuating opinions. They had had some riled conversations on their first night in Rome. At the second seating for dinner, she had been charming the maitre d' while he had been flirting with the waiter, just innocent. But over espresso and sambucca it was made clear that she would get the room if she got lucky and the nephew would have to find other accommodations. Such nerve age brings. I asked if the sign to sleep elsewhere would be support hose around the door knob? She said a necktie would work. She was Old School.
She exited the store and convinced him to find a cafe. He reenacted his recent lesson in international relations with the lost tourists and they walked towards The Duomo. She always laughed at his stories and offered strange advice. But sometimes she was right on. We can learn so much if we just listen. So much about ourselves. The rain had stopped, he was glad not to see that crazy rain bonnet come out of it's hiding place. It's waxy origami shape always looked disturbing on her and he couldn't help but think of small children playing with dry cleaning bags. He wasn't well. His imagination sometimes got the best of him and he wold just expound into tangents of bizarrely mid conversation. It was always better with caffeine though, he smiled. He was going to have a nice doppio. He noticed she sneered at the cappuccino maker (man not machine) before they took their seats. "Here we go again, making friends as she goes. The bird's a tough broad."
There trip was special, they were to see Tuscany, Rome, Venice and such. It was initially to be for a wedding in Sicily, but she had gotten the daters wrong. They salvaged a trip out of it anyway. They were an odd pair to be travelling, one fruitier than the next. They found the same things funny and could tell a great story. He was thrilled to have this time with her and hoped for more adventures. It was a great moment. She asked what these people thought when they looked at them. Their opinion didn't matter a bit. He'd been through plenty in his life where he didn't care for what people thought. Once in a while he'd obtain respected council from good friends, but strangers? Screw them. He noted that she still had a look of concern on her face. He decided a little humor would alleviate her escalating stress. He lit a smoke.
"Maybe when they look at us they say, 'There goes the Countess and the Pool boy,' he cracked himself up, almost knocking his espresso over. "How's that?" She finished her Sambucca and agreed that would work. For whatever reason.
He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his favorite fleece. He had fleeced the fleece from a niece, no actually from his favorite sister Sal a special Christmas two years prior. She hadn't even had the box open a minute before he swooped in and adorned his self entitled self with her gift. She knew in the instant that she would never wear that jacket. The light rain of Florence didn't bother him from enjoying his smoke. He hid behind a lamp post, in his dark sunglasses and watched his little bird shop her way around the store. It was ripe with leather bound tomes, beautiful parchments and lithographs from days gone by. It was exactly the type of place (of type) that he hoped they would find together. Three days from now they would be in Venice and then two days more they'd be back in the States, they would have this adventure behind them. On to the next!
A pack of tourist began pestering him for directions in some sort of Nipponese Neapolitan. It seemed only fitting that he exhale a ring of smoke at the tallest of the bunch and give them direcitons in self designed Span-Italian. He had created this language out of high school Spanish and years of working in restaurant's projected kitchen Italian. They were most appreciative and he flicked his extinguished butt towards the smallest of the retreating posse. He prided himself on the trip that he and his seventy something aunt were on. She never married but was witness to the raising of six siblings in her brother's house. Granted she went squirrely sometimes with opinions that were laced with crazy. It as like she had multiple lives and the overlapping of them confused her opinions. At one time she could be as straight as a novice, and another time she's hopping out a window to catch a train to NYC. Her and those trains. She was heavy into planning her next adventure with the 'Girls' to the Orient Express. She rolls with the ladies who lunch and their sect was going abroad next fall on the luxury train. Broad. Have to file that one away as well. Where was she now?
She was so concerned that she was going to be a hindrance but he welcomed this lady on his arm with all of her explosive conversation and fluctuating opinions. They had had some riled conversations on their first night in Rome. At the second seating for dinner, she had been charming the maitre d' while he had been flirting with the waiter, just innocent. But over espresso and sambucca it was made clear that she would get the room if she got lucky and the nephew would have to find other accommodations. Such nerve age brings. I asked if the sign to sleep elsewhere would be support hose around the door knob? She said a necktie would work. She was Old School.
She exited the store and convinced him to find a cafe. He reenacted his recent lesson in international relations with the lost tourists and they walked towards The Duomo. She always laughed at his stories and offered strange advice. But sometimes she was right on. We can learn so much if we just listen. So much about ourselves. The rain had stopped, he was glad not to see that crazy rain bonnet come out of it's hiding place. It's waxy origami shape always looked disturbing on her and he couldn't help but think of small children playing with dry cleaning bags. He wasn't well. His imagination sometimes got the best of him and he wold just expound into tangents of bizarrely mid conversation. It was always better with caffeine though, he smiled. He was going to have a nice doppio. He noticed she sneered at the cappuccino maker (man not machine) before they took their seats. "Here we go again, making friends as she goes. The bird's a tough broad."
There trip was special, they were to see Tuscany, Rome, Venice and such. It was initially to be for a wedding in Sicily, but she had gotten the daters wrong. They salvaged a trip out of it anyway. They were an odd pair to be travelling, one fruitier than the next. They found the same things funny and could tell a great story. He was thrilled to have this time with her and hoped for more adventures. It was a great moment. She asked what these people thought when they looked at them. Their opinion didn't matter a bit. He'd been through plenty in his life where he didn't care for what people thought. Once in a while he'd obtain respected council from good friends, but strangers? Screw them. He noted that she still had a look of concern on her face. He decided a little humor would alleviate her escalating stress. He lit a smoke.
"Maybe when they look at us they say, 'There goes the Countess and the Pool boy,' he cracked himself up, almost knocking his espresso over. "How's that?" She finished her Sambucca and agreed that would work. For whatever reason.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
One Brave Chick.
I've been inspired by many, many people in my life. I've had teachers that were so amazing back in the day that are even better today, thirty odd years later. Teachers that now teach my nephew and neices. I've had teachers at the college level that didn't even last the semester without a breakdown. But maybe that comes with Drama School. I've worked for people that inspired me. I was bussing and stopped to pick something up off the floor and the owner thanked me in such a sincere manner that I learned how you should take care of your staff. Small restaurants can really teach you about people and character. Oh, and the ability to think on your feet will come in handy later in life. I've been inspired by many friends and several not so friends. I may not have always met eye to eye with some people, I have found that their opinions due matter, it speaks from their beliefs and those should be treated with respect.
In hearing other people's stories you can learn about yourself. I learn where I've come from as a person and who I'm growing into being as an 'adult'. It's definately all about process in my mentallity, not about result. I'll get where I'm going and I'll get there by reading the signs around me. I love to read and could easily become a bloggaddict, oh how far am now with two tomes of silliness to spout on. Different people's experience can really open you up. I'm now in a fascination period with an source of courage;
The testimonies of these five women speak volumes. Through so much adversity each one tells of their ability to hold their ground, lift their head and face whatever's next. Who says that isn't useful in today's day and age? It's refreshing to hear other people's stories and listen without the prejudice of ego. Your bought of malaria does not equal one's loss of a child does not equal one's OCD and so on. People are so compulsory in conversation that they have to hijack it back to themselves (This happens alot in Los Angeles) overthinking that their experience relates exactly to what was just shared. This really isn't the case. If people want to learn, they need to share, listen and learn. You really can't learn with ears closed.
If you need a little jumpstart in the bravery department, find some great juice in their network. It's mandatory reading for those in the relentless search for improvement.
In hearing other people's stories you can learn about yourself. I learn where I've come from as a person and who I'm growing into being as an 'adult'. It's definately all about process in my mentallity, not about result. I'll get where I'm going and I'll get there by reading the signs around me. I love to read and could easily become a bloggaddict, oh how far am now with two tomes of silliness to spout on. Different people's experience can really open you up. I'm now in a fascination period with an source of courage;
The testimonies of these five women speak volumes. Through so much adversity each one tells of their ability to hold their ground, lift their head and face whatever's next. Who says that isn't useful in today's day and age? It's refreshing to hear other people's stories and listen without the prejudice of ego. Your bought of malaria does not equal one's loss of a child does not equal one's OCD and so on. People are so compulsory in conversation that they have to hijack it back to themselves (This happens alot in Los Angeles) overthinking that their experience relates exactly to what was just shared. This really isn't the case. If people want to learn, they need to share, listen and learn. You really can't learn with ears closed.
If you need a little jumpstart in the bravery department, find some great juice in their network. It's mandatory reading for those in the relentless search for improvement.
I love their motto: be real, be brave, be YOU.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Monkey, monkey. April Fools. Rabbit, rabbit.
Catch this. I tripped over my words this morning and actually monkey monkey'd when I was supposed to rabbit, rabbit. Has anyone else had such a problem?
Everyone knows this is one of the most basic incantations, and I've blown it. I'm only hoping that the April's Fool's karma adjusts it.
I should probably just go to bed now and put my head under the covers. Actually just started reading "Love In The Age Of Cholera" and it stops me from going running and stay in bed like a slug. Good book, get comfy and read it.
The Countess and The Pool Boy Tour is coming, get ready.
Everyone knows this is one of the most basic incantations, and I've blown it. I'm only hoping that the April's Fool's karma adjusts it.
I should probably just go to bed now and put my head under the covers. Actually just started reading "Love In The Age Of Cholera" and it stops me from going running and stay in bed like a slug. Good book, get comfy and read it.
The Countess and The Pool Boy Tour is coming, get ready.
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