So today I was supposed to go to Chicago to do a role playing job for this British company called Impromptu, Ltd. (http://www.impromptultd.com/) & get your minds out of the gutter. It's not clever, it's not original, it's just kinda boring. No you are not the 1st person to associate Role Playing with sexual kink & make some snarky comment about it. But I digress.
So anyway, the way it works is that I pay the airfare & ground transport & they cover the hotel & meals plus a (substantial) fee. My flight itinerary was an 11:30AM flight from NOLA to Memphis with a layover until 2:20 then on to Chicago. The plan was to spend the night at the hotel where we were working that evening & the call time was 8:30AM Wednesday.
When I arrived in Memphy, I noticed the departure time to Chicago had been pushed back to 3:30. I decided to take advantage of the fact the The Blue Note Bar & Grill has a smoking section & have a little lunch (AKA Chicken Tenders, Fries & a soda that totalled up to $15). My waitress, Airnitrisha, was around 6 ft tall & had a Big Freedia (http://www.bigfreedia.com/) style hairdo but it was all bleached at the top. She was a good time & made me feel right at home!! When I got back to my gate around 2:45 I notice the departure time had been pushed back again to 4:20. This made me wish for another kinda smoke break, but there you have it. Anyway, I sat around at the gate, chatting with some ppl who were heading home to Chicago & as the day went on, the departure time kept getting pushed back. The gate agents periodically made announcements about maintenance on the plane as well as bad weather in Chicago. There were problems with the PA & they often sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher, but eventually the pilot came out and addressed everyone & explained how crucial the maintenance was & how skilled the team was that were working on it blah blah blah....they don't know when/if they are getting to Chicago, because so many flights from around the country were being delayed due to storms in the Midwest.
You can probably guess from the way this is going that the flight was eventually cancelled. After the usual rush of people at the Gate Agents & the Help phones & kiosks, I managed to get thru to a lady at the help desk. She was amazingly nice & efficient & appropriately apologetic when she told me that my only options were to try to go standby on a flight arriving in Chicago at 9:30PM the following day (i.e. 13 hours after my call time & 30 mins after my flight home was scheduled to leave). I think I burst into tears at this point. I explained my situation to her & asked if she could just please get me home. Mercifully there was a flight for NOLA leaving within 15 minutes two gates over from where I was standing. She told me she booked me on the flight & that all I had to do was give the gate agent my boarding pass & it would be handled from there. I txted my so-called wife my flight # and asked if she could pick me up in an hour from the airport & (I'm tearin up in gratitude) she txtd back "I got you, girl" & so I boarded the plane.
As I was walking in, looking harried I am sure, one of the Sky Waitresses helped me stow my carryon in an overhead & I mentioned that when she came around with the drinks cart I would be ready. She said, "We may not do full drink service with the turbulence" I said "Oh lawd, don't tell me that!!" She had a chuckle & asked what I would like & I said "A double!!" and sat down. Did I mention that Memphy was having tornado troubles today?? So as we were sitting in this plane, the winds were so heavy that the plane was moving back and forth as if we were taxiing but no.We were sitting still & delayed for about another 30 mins? Miss Sky Waitress caught my eye & asked what I wanted to drink via sign language & I stage whispered "Bloody Mary." After a little more waiting, the plane eventually took off. I can honestly say this was the most turbulent flight I have ever been on. Saints be praised, I had the Target novelization of Dr Who: Fury From the Deep to keep my mind occupied. Since the flight was so turbulent, there was only a brief amount of service time so the Sky Waitresses did what they call a "Water Walk" but Miss Thing was true to her word!! Not only did she hook me up, she REALLY hooked me up & wouldn't even accept my credit card to pay!!
This is when I knew everything was gonna be all right.
I made it to the ground safe & sound & txted Miss Flawless, who was practically at the airport b4 I even got to the gate!! We landed around 9:45PM, which means by the time I got home I'd been gone for just about 12 hours. Lame. Frustrating. But it was not in my hands. I hate when I do everything I'm supposed to do but some external thing goes wrong & puts all my plans in shambles. I am not sure yet how the $$ for the plane ticket is gonna work out. I will contact the airline in the morning and see what they have to say. I certainly can't expect Impromptu, LTD to foot the bill for something like this, but I will double check my contract to see if there is any provision for this kind of scenario. I am also unsure of how I'm going to make up for the $$ I will be missing from not working this gig, especially given the lack of steady work in my immediate future beyond 2 days next week & the week of June 13th at the Medical School, but I'm sure I will find a way.
I always do!!
Thanks for reading & thanks to Kit, Kris, Matty, Elisha, Diney & Seppy for dealing with my text frenzy today!!
xxxo
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
LRW Day in the Marigny!!!
So the Grad Festivities continued as I was whisked away to The Country Club, 634 Louisa St., by my fellow LRWs, & my personal vote for cutest couple, Kris & Jen. I was treated like a queen by my gals & a non-entity by most of the other gays, but PS what else is new? For those who haven't been, from the outside, it just looks like another beautiful Marigny style home but once you walk in, there's a hostess stand and some nicely appointed tables in the dining room. We bypassed dining room service & headed to the well-airconditioned (and ventilated) bar area where Kris had the bottomless mimosa & I got started on the a la carte Bloody Marys. YUM. had mine with pickled beans & no olives, as usual. After a few of these & a lil attitude from the topless, tasty bartender over a question about the soup du jourI I got confused about the menu and ordered the 1st thing that grabbed my eye, the sinfully delicious Chipotle Lime Cheddar Bacon Chicken sandwich. I think I might have been slurring at this point bc right after I ordered, this aging hustler next to us at the bar who working on some older, bleach blond queen said "What is a Sugar Sandwich?" (Or maybe that ho was drunker than me, who can say?). But I digress.
Kris had a side of Mac & Cheese w Green Peas (her fave side EVER) & the Traditional breakfast--2 scrambled eggs, thick cut bacon, cheese grits & toast. She raved about it, but the dish that gave me Buyer's Remorse (is that possible when some1 else is paying?) was Jen's entree: Southern Fried Chicken w Smashed Potatoes & Asparagus w Brown Gravy. That just looked Stunning.
After a third Bloody Mary, we headed to the pool for some fun in the sun. Let me just say I love the pool. I love swimming pools in general but I really like the vibe there. Cruisy yes but not too shady. There is always an eclectic mix of ppl-- straight, gay, in-betweens, hustlers, hipsters, hoes...& all in various stages of Clothing Optional. No judging, ppl acting cool about any number of body flaws, although there were definitely some hot bodies to be seen. Harmless hedonism at its finest. The booze flowed freely (thanks again to Kris & Jen!!) and of course the only man there who had anything substantial to say to me was some Straight but not Narrow Quasi-Hipster type in designer eyewear and bikini brief swimwear. At least he & his good gay friend who works at the pub had cool stuff to talk about. Eventually my girls had to head to another party & had to go home & nap for a lil while b4 seeing Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf? by Edward Albee, directed by Jennifer Growden, at the Shadowbox Theater at 2400 St. Claude Avenue with my old pal, Katrina Manhattan.
It's a really cosy little black box theater in the former Marquer Drugs Building, with an eclectic bunch of chairs, ranging from rows of movie seats to folding chairs, arranged on risers. The effect is such that the 1st row is sitting in the living room of George & Martha, the mean-spirited, aging couple, with the bar/dining room just off to the right of the audience. I previously saw A Taste of Honey at this location and the "kitchen sink" nature of both these plays is absolutely perfect for the space. It permits the audience a level of physical as well as emotional intimacy with these desperately flawed characters.
I was really excited to see this play, I have never seen the film (but I'm sure I will, SOON), and I was not disappointed. The plot is straightforward enough: after a dinner party, a mean-spirited middle-aged couple, George and Martha, have a younger couple over for drinks and psychological torture. The younger, naive couple, are alternately fascinated and repulsed by the people they are most likely destined to become. Michael Martin gives a star turn as George and Kathryn Talbot absolutely matches him as his braying, harridan of a wife, Martha. The stiff performances of Giselle Chatelain & Matt Story make me wonder if Jennifer Growden thinks, as I do, that the characters of Honey & Nick are just figments of George & Martha's overactive, booze-soaked imaginations (like so many other references to truth & illusion in the text). Story's over-enunciated T's & D's when he is drunk is one indication of this, as is Chatelain's mirroring of Martha's body language at the climax of the final act. It is a long show, but the theater offers delicious hors-d'oeuvres & a cash bar during both intermissions, so you don't have to get tempted by the Rally's across the street. This is a great opportunity for a unique theater experience, & I definitely recommend that you catch it before it closes on May 29.
http://www.bestofneworleans.com/gambit/whos-afraid-of-virginia-woolf/Event?oid=1714617
Thanks again to Jen & Kris & Katrina Manhattan for a fun-filled Saturday!!!
Kris had a side of Mac & Cheese w Green Peas (her fave side EVER) & the Traditional breakfast--2 scrambled eggs, thick cut bacon, cheese grits & toast. She raved about it, but the dish that gave me Buyer's Remorse (is that possible when some1 else is paying?) was Jen's entree: Southern Fried Chicken w Smashed Potatoes & Asparagus w Brown Gravy. That just looked Stunning.
After a third Bloody Mary, we headed to the pool for some fun in the sun. Let me just say I love the pool. I love swimming pools in general but I really like the vibe there. Cruisy yes but not too shady. There is always an eclectic mix of ppl-- straight, gay, in-betweens, hustlers, hipsters, hoes...& all in various stages of Clothing Optional. No judging, ppl acting cool about any number of body flaws, although there were definitely some hot bodies to be seen. Harmless hedonism at its finest. The booze flowed freely (thanks again to Kris & Jen!!) and of course the only man there who had anything substantial to say to me was some Straight but not Narrow Quasi-Hipster type in designer eyewear and bikini brief swimwear. At least he & his good gay friend who works at the pub had cool stuff to talk about. Eventually my girls had to head to another party & had to go home & nap for a lil while b4 seeing Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf? by Edward Albee, directed by Jennifer Growden, at the Shadowbox Theater at 2400 St. Claude Avenue with my old pal, Katrina Manhattan.
It's a really cosy little black box theater in the former Marquer Drugs Building, with an eclectic bunch of chairs, ranging from rows of movie seats to folding chairs, arranged on risers. The effect is such that the 1st row is sitting in the living room of George & Martha, the mean-spirited, aging couple, with the bar/dining room just off to the right of the audience. I previously saw A Taste of Honey at this location and the "kitchen sink" nature of both these plays is absolutely perfect for the space. It permits the audience a level of physical as well as emotional intimacy with these desperately flawed characters.
I was really excited to see this play, I have never seen the film (but I'm sure I will, SOON), and I was not disappointed. The plot is straightforward enough: after a dinner party, a mean-spirited middle-aged couple, George and Martha, have a younger couple over for drinks and psychological torture. The younger, naive couple, are alternately fascinated and repulsed by the people they are most likely destined to become. Michael Martin gives a star turn as George and Kathryn Talbot absolutely matches him as his braying, harridan of a wife, Martha. The stiff performances of Giselle Chatelain & Matt Story make me wonder if Jennifer Growden thinks, as I do, that the characters of Honey & Nick are just figments of George & Martha's overactive, booze-soaked imaginations (like so many other references to truth & illusion in the text). Story's over-enunciated T's & D's when he is drunk is one indication of this, as is Chatelain's mirroring of Martha's body language at the climax of the final act. It is a long show, but the theater offers delicious hors-d'oeuvres & a cash bar during both intermissions, so you don't have to get tempted by the Rally's across the street. This is a great opportunity for a unique theater experience, & I definitely recommend that you catch it before it closes on May 29.
http://www.bestofneworleans.com/gambit/whos-afraid-of-virginia-woolf/Event?oid=1714617
Thanks again to Jen & Kris & Katrina Manhattan for a fun-filled Saturday!!!
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Lunch @ Lüke w LRWs!!!
So today, my dear friend, Sistery McBride, took me out for (another) sassy graduation celebration meal! We headed over to Lüke at 333 St. Charles. I had already experienced the restaurant & was looking forward to seeing my friend's reaction to the delicious fare. The décor is rustic, the brown wood of the tables is echoed throughout the dining room. There are--room dividers? in wood with brass railings, oddly festooned with sections of newspapers. Yes like the sports section is hanging over this brass railing with the Metro section next to it, and so forth. The table settings themselves are minimalist at best. Small water tumblers and silverware rolled up in these white kitchen rag type napkins with blue lines on them. The napkins carry a funky odor that is decidedly unappetizing, by the way. Speaking of unappetizing, there is also some kind of raw seafood display at the end of the bar as you walk into the dining room that also gives off a pretty strong odor. The last (and most unappetizing thing) was the waiters' uniforms. White, formless jackets & black bow ties. I'm sure these things cost a fortune but they are completely impractical in food service and unflattering on everyone. We were inexplicably seated right next to another couple despite there being at least a half dozen empty two tops scattered around the cozy dining room.
Our waiter brought over a carafe of water and asked if we'd like a cocktail. We declined, and he seemed a bit crestfallen, and left us a carafe of ice water. When I asked about the specials, he said "Everything's on the menu" and said he'd give us a minute to choose. When he came back, we ordered the pâté de campagne, and Sistery had the express lunch (crawfish bisque & whole roast cochon de lait with cherry mustard and stewed greens. I had the entrecôte grillée au (should have been aux on the menu) frites, (AKA a contre-filet, not a ribeye, as you might think), medium rare.
The pâté was delivered by a manageress whose name I didn't catch, who explained the accoutrements and wished us bon appétit. The pâté was rich and coarse, served with a plentiful supply of grilled (AKA slightly burnt) french bread croustades. The cherry mustard was featured with this and provided a great counterpoint to the earthy flavor of the pâté itself. While we were still enjoying our pâté, Sistery's soup was delivered. The bisque was quite brown, and according to Sistery (you know I have a shellfish allergy & can't be messin with all that), had a rather earthy, if not to say muddy, flavor. The Chatty Manageress came by to check on us and cleared our table as we talked a bit with her, pouring our own water from the carafe left on the table by the waiter. Our entrées came out just after I had swapped our empty water carafe with the half-full one left on the table next to us by a couple who'd been gone for about 10 minutes at that point. The food was announced and left on the table. I had to ask for a steak knife as one had not been pre-set. The foodrunner went to a waiter station and looked in some drawers and then a few seconds later, our waiter came by with a steak knife. I might also add at this point that no one stayed to let me cut into my steak and verify that it was cooked to my preferred temperature. Mercifully, it was cooked to PERFECTION and an utter delight to the palate. Sistery raved about how delish her cochon de lait was.
After all this savor, we had a bit of a sweet tooth. We asked for a dessert menu & that's what we got. One menu, dropped onto the table between us, making a little cloud of crumbs puff up. When we ordered an espresso and a capuccino as well as a chocolate pot de crème, the waiter then crumbed our table with the dessert menu. Charming.
The espresso machine is behind the bar (and in my direct sight) and I watched the coffees being made and then...the dessert came. Two large soup spoons had been provided as dessert spoons, and we could barely fit them into the mason jar in which the dessert was featured. Our waiter arrived a minute later with our coffees. Sistery's oversize demi-tasse cup didn't have an accompanying spoon, so she had to ask for one & then use a normal size coffee spoon. The pot de crème was sinfully rich and delicious but not as thick as I'd expected. It wasn't quite as airy as a mousse, but it was more like a parfait of chocolate pudding, topped with chantilly cream & toasted almonds & chocolate slivers. Outstanding.
The waiter dropped off the check and this is when that table next to us finally started to get bussed. Yes I am serious. I might also add that it was around 3 in the afternoon and not crowded. The check before tip was $72 and we had to pour our own water. Sistery and I have both been in the service industry and we understand a lot of stuff that maybe the average diner doesn't, but honestly I've received friendlier, better service at Clover Grill. It's a real shame that such stellar food is so poorly presented.
Our waiter brought over a carafe of water and asked if we'd like a cocktail. We declined, and he seemed a bit crestfallen, and left us a carafe of ice water. When I asked about the specials, he said "Everything's on the menu" and said he'd give us a minute to choose. When he came back, we ordered the pâté de campagne, and Sistery had the express lunch (crawfish bisque & whole roast cochon de lait with cherry mustard and stewed greens. I had the entrecôte grillée au (should have been aux on the menu) frites, (AKA a contre-filet, not a ribeye, as you might think), medium rare.
The pâté was delivered by a manageress whose name I didn't catch, who explained the accoutrements and wished us bon appétit. The pâté was rich and coarse, served with a plentiful supply of grilled (AKA slightly burnt) french bread croustades. The cherry mustard was featured with this and provided a great counterpoint to the earthy flavor of the pâté itself. While we were still enjoying our pâté, Sistery's soup was delivered. The bisque was quite brown, and according to Sistery (you know I have a shellfish allergy & can't be messin with all that), had a rather earthy, if not to say muddy, flavor. The Chatty Manageress came by to check on us and cleared our table as we talked a bit with her, pouring our own water from the carafe left on the table by the waiter. Our entrées came out just after I had swapped our empty water carafe with the half-full one left on the table next to us by a couple who'd been gone for about 10 minutes at that point. The food was announced and left on the table. I had to ask for a steak knife as one had not been pre-set. The foodrunner went to a waiter station and looked in some drawers and then a few seconds later, our waiter came by with a steak knife. I might also add at this point that no one stayed to let me cut into my steak and verify that it was cooked to my preferred temperature. Mercifully, it was cooked to PERFECTION and an utter delight to the palate. Sistery raved about how delish her cochon de lait was.
After all this savor, we had a bit of a sweet tooth. We asked for a dessert menu & that's what we got. One menu, dropped onto the table between us, making a little cloud of crumbs puff up. When we ordered an espresso and a capuccino as well as a chocolate pot de crème, the waiter then crumbed our table with the dessert menu. Charming.
The espresso machine is behind the bar (and in my direct sight) and I watched the coffees being made and then...the dessert came. Two large soup spoons had been provided as dessert spoons, and we could barely fit them into the mason jar in which the dessert was featured. Our waiter arrived a minute later with our coffees. Sistery's oversize demi-tasse cup didn't have an accompanying spoon, so she had to ask for one & then use a normal size coffee spoon. The pot de crème was sinfully rich and delicious but not as thick as I'd expected. It wasn't quite as airy as a mousse, but it was more like a parfait of chocolate pudding, topped with chantilly cream & toasted almonds & chocolate slivers. Outstanding.
The waiter dropped off the check and this is when that table next to us finally started to get bussed. Yes I am serious. I might also add that it was around 3 in the afternoon and not crowded. The check before tip was $72 and we had to pour our own water. Sistery and I have both been in the service industry and we understand a lot of stuff that maybe the average diner doesn't, but honestly I've received friendlier, better service at Clover Grill. It's a real shame that such stellar food is so poorly presented.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
The luckiest boy in NOLA...
That's how I felt last night. For those of you who don't know about my so-called wife, Elisha, here is the thumbnail of our relationship: We met at UNO before Hurricane Katrina and just sort of clicked. We got closer after we both got back to town & have been damn near inseparable since then, to the point that we have actually been mistaken for a married couple. Seriously. One night a few years ago, we were sitting at a bar, playing one of those touch-screen trivia games & out of nowhere, this woman who had been sitting behind us came over and asked: "Excuse me, how long have y'all been married?" Without missing a beat I just turned around and said "Six years, grrl, it'll be seven in June." For those of you who don't know me that well, honestly, I can't imagine what this lady was thinking of. Elisha's and my relationship (IMO) seems like that of two Large Retarded Women, I certainly have never seen a straight married couple who acts like us.
But I digress.
Anyway, she is going to be out of town next weekend so she is going to miss my graduation. So, she offered to take me out for a night of glamour dining & OMG did she spoil me rotten!!! She came up with the idea of going on a Progressive Dinner with French & Spanish cuisine as the theme. How thoughtful is that??!! I told her to surprise me about which restaurants we were going to & boy was I in for a surprise....
(For those who don't know, no it's not a political thing, a Progressive Dinner is when you go from one place to the next for different courses of the meal)
Our first stop was Café Granada (1506 S. Carollton). Although their sidewalk tables were all full, we didn't mind eating inside (a first for both of us). I had a glass of Red Sangria (a little watery for my taste, but not bad) and I had the Andalusian gazpacho & she had el sopa del día (Soup of the Day), which was a cucumber gazpacho. Mine was just exactly what I think traditional gazpacho should be: finely pureed tomatoes, pepper & hint of garlic, served nice and cold for a warm summer evening. My mouth is watering just thinking of it. Hers was just as nice (if a lil avant garde for me), a somewhat creamy, cool puree of cucumber; very smooth with a refreshing finish. Then for a change of pace we tried las croquetas de queso (Golden Fried Goat Cheese Balls over a Mango-Ginger Sauce)--delicate but indulgent!! After a slight mistake on our waitress's part about our change, we decided it was time to Progress...
Our second stop was The Flaming Torch (737 Octavia St, off Magazine St.). This little spot has a lot to offer as far as ambiance goes but I can't really recommend it. We were early for our 8:45 reservation and the hostess and the bartender both acted really flustered about it. They had us sit at the bar and after I ordered a glass of wine, they proceeded to ignore us. Please understand this is not a big dining room and so Miss Hostess Lady with the overprocessed, unkempt blond hair kept walking past us without making eye contact. Before long, it was 15 minutes past our original reservation time, so we had to basically stop Miss Hostess and ask her if we were going to be seated any time soon. She gave us some line about how this 2-top table had gotten their check several minutes ago but weren't getting up from their table. We explained to her about our Progressive Dinner plan & she said "Oh, well we have a table, but it's too big for two." We were like, "We'll take it, we won't be here for more than 1 course anyway." So then she seats us at a table that had been open the WHOLE time we had been there. That really steamed both of us. We have both been in the business long enough to know better, and I would have hoped Miss Hostess Lady had as well. When we were finally at a table, it took Miss Lady several moments to clear off the additional table settings and then several more minutes for her to bring us menus. Subsequently a rather harried-looking older waiter stopped by our tables to tell us about the specials and warn us that there were several large tables upstairs, so there might be some delay with our food. Please keep in mind that at this point we have already been at this restaurant for at least 40 minutes. This is when I interjected, "Listen, let me just cut to the chase. We are doing a progressive dinner, so we are only going to have two orders of the escargots and an order of the goose liver pâté." After he'd left the table, Elisha thanked me for handling the scenario, and some bread and butter was dropped off by Miss Hostess. Naturally, as LRWs, we wiped this out in a flash, and then spent the next 20 minutes or so observing the dining room. A couple in the corner looked angry and had no food on their table. Another couple closer to us had empty plates and glasses sitting in front of them as server after server (not to mention Miss Hostess) blithely walked by, empty-handed. Eventually the escargots & pâté arrived all at once, not in courses (the pâté should have come first as it is a cold app that requires minimal prep, whereas the escargots have to be heated for a substantial amount of time). The pâté was tasty, although the serving size cannot be called generous, and the consistency was a bit creamier than I have had before. It was accompanied by a few slivers of--prosciutto? Candied something? I'm not sure as the dish was not explained. There were 3 thin crispy pieces of bread on the plate as well, so we had to order another breadbasket. The escargots were not served as usual (ivre, in a garlic-butter cream sauce, in a martini glass) but rather in a quasi-classic escargot dish. Unlike the true classic escargot dish (which actually goes in the oven) this dish is a rather fragile piece of porcelain that wouldn't withstand heat and certainly doesn't retain any, as my escargots were quickly cooling. The sauce was a sort of pistou (French pesto) that would probably been tastier if it had been warmer. Once the bread arrived, (warm on top & cold on the bottom) we sopped up the rest of the sauces and asked for the check. I can honestly say the best thing about this leg of the journey was the company (and meeting a lovely family that Elisha knows). Progression never felt so good as we got in the car for the final stop on our LRW mystery dinner!!
My so-called wife saved the best for last, and we went to a restaurant neither of us had tried before: Dominique's (4729 Magazine, just down the block from Sade's Amour Hair Salon). This cozy place, in a renovated shotgun double style house, was definitely la pièce de résistance, hands down. We had run out of Flaming Torch so quickly that we were a couple minutes early for our 10 o'clock reservation, so we had a seat at the bar, where I ordered a Caipirinha from their sumptuous cocktail menu. We chatted a bit with the bartender, and by the time she served My First Caipirinha (& there's not many things I can say that about these days), our table was ready. The pictures on their website (dominiquesneworleans.com) really don't do justice to their geometrical, comfy decor. Although the dining room can get a bit loud, the colors are soothing and the staff is friendly and smartly attired. Eschewing dark, heavy colors prevalent in so many restaurants of this price range, the friendly servers are dressed in white shirts with khaki trousers, accented by pastel rainbow ties that complement the decor. We were taken care of by Erin, an open-faced brunette with amazing menu knowledge and outstanding salesmanship, not to mention a frankly charming personality. We were delighted here by the Duck Leg Confit with Poached Pears & the Charred Morgan Beef Tartare with Avocado Crème Fraiche. Then we had a cheese plate, consisting of House-Made Herbed Goat Cheese, Tomme de Bordeaux & something else that Erin would proably remember. Then we finished off with an amazing pair of desserts: Floating Island (the menu description doesn't do this justice either); it was a creamy meringue served over crème anglaise with a caramel drizzle and garnished with fruit & Chocolat Bavarois for me, which was like a thick pudding in a square-shaped mold that was coherent with the decor, accented by a plank of crispy chocolate and a dollop of ice cream. Dessert here is served accompanied by home-spun cotton candy like you never had at the fair. The flavor du jour was Green Apple & all I can say is WOW!!!
This night & so many others just tell me how blessed I really am. Thank you again, Elisha for taking such good care of me!!
But I digress.
Anyway, she is going to be out of town next weekend so she is going to miss my graduation. So, she offered to take me out for a night of glamour dining & OMG did she spoil me rotten!!! She came up with the idea of going on a Progressive Dinner with French & Spanish cuisine as the theme. How thoughtful is that??!! I told her to surprise me about which restaurants we were going to & boy was I in for a surprise....
(For those who don't know, no it's not a political thing, a Progressive Dinner is when you go from one place to the next for different courses of the meal)
Our first stop was Café Granada (1506 S. Carollton). Although their sidewalk tables were all full, we didn't mind eating inside (a first for both of us). I had a glass of Red Sangria (a little watery for my taste, but not bad) and I had the Andalusian gazpacho & she had el sopa del día (Soup of the Day), which was a cucumber gazpacho. Mine was just exactly what I think traditional gazpacho should be: finely pureed tomatoes, pepper & hint of garlic, served nice and cold for a warm summer evening. My mouth is watering just thinking of it. Hers was just as nice (if a lil avant garde for me), a somewhat creamy, cool puree of cucumber; very smooth with a refreshing finish. Then for a change of pace we tried las croquetas de queso (Golden Fried Goat Cheese Balls over a Mango-Ginger Sauce)--delicate but indulgent!! After a slight mistake on our waitress's part about our change, we decided it was time to Progress...
Our second stop was The Flaming Torch (737 Octavia St, off Magazine St.). This little spot has a lot to offer as far as ambiance goes but I can't really recommend it. We were early for our 8:45 reservation and the hostess and the bartender both acted really flustered about it. They had us sit at the bar and after I ordered a glass of wine, they proceeded to ignore us. Please understand this is not a big dining room and so Miss Hostess Lady with the overprocessed, unkempt blond hair kept walking past us without making eye contact. Before long, it was 15 minutes past our original reservation time, so we had to basically stop Miss Hostess and ask her if we were going to be seated any time soon. She gave us some line about how this 2-top table had gotten their check several minutes ago but weren't getting up from their table. We explained to her about our Progressive Dinner plan & she said "Oh, well we have a table, but it's too big for two." We were like, "We'll take it, we won't be here for more than 1 course anyway." So then she seats us at a table that had been open the WHOLE time we had been there. That really steamed both of us. We have both been in the business long enough to know better, and I would have hoped Miss Hostess Lady had as well. When we were finally at a table, it took Miss Lady several moments to clear off the additional table settings and then several more minutes for her to bring us menus. Subsequently a rather harried-looking older waiter stopped by our tables to tell us about the specials and warn us that there were several large tables upstairs, so there might be some delay with our food. Please keep in mind that at this point we have already been at this restaurant for at least 40 minutes. This is when I interjected, "Listen, let me just cut to the chase. We are doing a progressive dinner, so we are only going to have two orders of the escargots and an order of the goose liver pâté." After he'd left the table, Elisha thanked me for handling the scenario, and some bread and butter was dropped off by Miss Hostess. Naturally, as LRWs, we wiped this out in a flash, and then spent the next 20 minutes or so observing the dining room. A couple in the corner looked angry and had no food on their table. Another couple closer to us had empty plates and glasses sitting in front of them as server after server (not to mention Miss Hostess) blithely walked by, empty-handed. Eventually the escargots & pâté arrived all at once, not in courses (the pâté should have come first as it is a cold app that requires minimal prep, whereas the escargots have to be heated for a substantial amount of time). The pâté was tasty, although the serving size cannot be called generous, and the consistency was a bit creamier than I have had before. It was accompanied by a few slivers of--prosciutto? Candied something? I'm not sure as the dish was not explained. There were 3 thin crispy pieces of bread on the plate as well, so we had to order another breadbasket. The escargots were not served as usual (ivre, in a garlic-butter cream sauce, in a martini glass) but rather in a quasi-classic escargot dish. Unlike the true classic escargot dish (which actually goes in the oven) this dish is a rather fragile piece of porcelain that wouldn't withstand heat and certainly doesn't retain any, as my escargots were quickly cooling. The sauce was a sort of pistou (French pesto) that would probably been tastier if it had been warmer. Once the bread arrived, (warm on top & cold on the bottom) we sopped up the rest of the sauces and asked for the check. I can honestly say the best thing about this leg of the journey was the company (and meeting a lovely family that Elisha knows). Progression never felt so good as we got in the car for the final stop on our LRW mystery dinner!!
My so-called wife saved the best for last, and we went to a restaurant neither of us had tried before: Dominique's (4729 Magazine, just down the block from Sade's Amour Hair Salon). This cozy place, in a renovated shotgun double style house, was definitely la pièce de résistance, hands down. We had run out of Flaming Torch so quickly that we were a couple minutes early for our 10 o'clock reservation, so we had a seat at the bar, where I ordered a Caipirinha from their sumptuous cocktail menu. We chatted a bit with the bartender, and by the time she served My First Caipirinha (& there's not many things I can say that about these days), our table was ready. The pictures on their website (dominiquesneworleans.com) really don't do justice to their geometrical, comfy decor. Although the dining room can get a bit loud, the colors are soothing and the staff is friendly and smartly attired. Eschewing dark, heavy colors prevalent in so many restaurants of this price range, the friendly servers are dressed in white shirts with khaki trousers, accented by pastel rainbow ties that complement the decor. We were taken care of by Erin, an open-faced brunette with amazing menu knowledge and outstanding salesmanship, not to mention a frankly charming personality. We were delighted here by the Duck Leg Confit with Poached Pears & the Charred Morgan Beef Tartare with Avocado Crème Fraiche. Then we had a cheese plate, consisting of House-Made Herbed Goat Cheese, Tomme de Bordeaux & something else that Erin would proably remember. Then we finished off with an amazing pair of desserts: Floating Island (the menu description doesn't do this justice either); it was a creamy meringue served over crème anglaise with a caramel drizzle and garnished with fruit & Chocolat Bavarois for me, which was like a thick pudding in a square-shaped mold that was coherent with the decor, accented by a plank of crispy chocolate and a dollop of ice cream. Dessert here is served accompanied by home-spun cotton candy like you never had at the fair. The flavor du jour was Green Apple & all I can say is WOW!!!
This night & so many others just tell me how blessed I really am. Thank you again, Elisha for taking such good care of me!!
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Final E-mails & exams....
So yesterday I gave my students their Final Exam. The day before the Final, I get an email from a student who was big pregnant at the beginning of the semester & dematerialized from class to give birth. She has been to class a few times since (usually to take tests) and the last time I saw her (like mid-March) I told her in no uncertain terms that I would be glad to work with her as long as she was keeping up with her work from home, but that she had to stay in touch with me. We have an online textbook & it easily lends itself to this as the homework is all submitted online. So here is Miss Thing's email:
(I'm not omitting a greeting like "Hola Profe," she simply did not write one)
But the laughs don't stop there!! That student who asked me awhile ago if it would be possible to get a "C" despite her frankly non-existent attendance & awful scores decided to stay in the class & then didn't show up to the Oral Exam last week nor the Final Exam yesterday. & To top it all off, despite the fact that I pushed back the Exam time by an hour because I had a commitment at my job at the med skool, I STILL had someone come in 15 minutes late (after I'd already given the Dictation portion of the Final). I made him stay until everyone else left & then asked him the Dictation questions.
(I'm not omitting a greeting like "Hola Profe," she simply did not write one)
I’m sorry I have not gotten to you sooner. I have not been to class because my daughter had contracted a contagious virus which she also gave to me. My 11 week (old I think she means) daughter being this sick sent my world upside down. I was wondering if you could give me an incomplete mark for this semester so I can come back next semester to take the course again. I understand if you cannot.
Thank you,
Lady X
After some consideration (and a completely unhelpful response from my dept head), this is what I sent back:
Hola Lady X
I'm sorry to hear about your circumstances, but unfortunately at this point my hands are tied. What you are not understanding about an "I" is that you have to complete the coursework & turn it in to the professor of record before the end of the 1st week of classes for the following semester. Even if I were inclined to do this for you, as far as I am aware, I will not be teaching at UNO in the Fall so it would be impossible for me to accept your work & change your grade from "I."
The only thing I can tell you at this point is that you receive an F for this class and if you are a Freshman, at least you have the option to re-take the class & delete your grade (although you should speak to a counselor to verify this.)
El Profe
The only thing I can tell you at this point is that you receive an F for this class and if you are a Freshman, at least you have the option to re-take the class & delete your grade (although you should speak to a counselor to verify this.)
El Profe
But the laughs don't stop there!! That student who asked me awhile ago if it would be possible to get a "C" despite her frankly non-existent attendance & awful scores decided to stay in the class & then didn't show up to the Oral Exam last week nor the Final Exam yesterday. & To top it all off, despite the fact that I pushed back the Exam time by an hour because I had a commitment at my job at the med skool, I STILL had someone come in 15 minutes late (after I'd already given the Dictation portion of the Final). I made him stay until everyone else left & then asked him the Dictation questions.
Sometimes, incipient unemployment doesn't seem so bad after all....
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Legends of the False....
So I got a call today from....let's call him Lil Jay. This is a guy who I've known since 1999 or so & we called him that to distinguish him from his then-boyfriend, Big Jay. We all had our own drug problems but these two were like one of the Supercouples of Drug-tainted Bad Relationships. (*see Jesus Junkies blog for more on this) Big Jay was a club-level coke dealer & Lil Jay was a cute, younger drug addict (I think 21 to Big Jay's 28ish) so you can imagine the kinds of fireworks this was. They both liked to do lots of drugs and racked up big bills with all the upper-level dealers on the scene. Same sad story all the time: they'd get a certain amount up front & then couldn't pay up later. "Something came up," as they say...They eventually got so tragic that they both had to leave town. I had a mad crush on Big Jay before Lil Jay got on the scene & somewhere along the line I had a cuddling/makeout session with Lil Jay (prior to the heights of tragedy they would later attain)...but I digress.
Anyway, periodically I have gotten calls from Lil Jay. He's here, he's there. He's drunk. He's in AA. He's drunk again. He joined the Navy at some point & got put out for drug use. He wants to hang out. He is living in some other state & recently got so drunk that his BAC was an 8.0. Yes the decimal point is in the right place. He's back in Lousiana and wants to hang out.
The last time I got a call from him (I think January or February 2011) he was back in Central Louisiana, living at his mom's place & working & sounding pretty good. He was talking about coming to NOLA for a visit because he really wanted to see me. He was periodically giving me updates about Big Jay (they were not dating as BJ was still in FL with his parents, and trying to get off a pain pill addiction he'd picked up and extricate himself from some recurrent legal problems--go figure) and I was very....apprehensive? ambivalent? Something along those lines about the whole idea of Lil Jay coming for a visit into my (relatively) well-ordered life. Well, it was just a weekend. It wouldn't interfere with my real-life. But I really wasn't 100% sure about what was going to happen so I just directly asked him if we were gonna have sex when he got here. He said, "well yeah! Why wouldn't I want to have sex with you?" (For future reference, this is NOT a good come-on in my book) So I was into it, mostly because he's actually quite hot & bc he's kinda one of the few that "got away" (thankfully so). And so the big day arrives & that morning he sends me some sexy text messages & tells me he'll be in town by 9ish.
And then he never shows up. No Call, No Text, No Show, No Nothing. Please keep in mind the last time he was supposed to come over was in 2006 & the next day he called from jail, needing to be bailed out from a DUI. So I just take it for granted that some other ignorant thing has happened to him & I don't flip about it. I actually was relieved more than anything else. I deleted him from my FB but not from my phone, just in case he tried to call again.
Well, today after work at the Medical School, I was waiting for the bus & Guess Who is just bored enough to answer this foolish child's call??? That's right, me, everyone's favorite Large Retarded Woman!!!
--Hello?
--Do you hate me?
--Lil Jay, I don't hate you. I'm disapointed that you flaked but I take for granted that as long as you are drinking you are not reliable.
--Sam, the reason why I couldn't come see you is that I felt like I would be cheating on Big Jay. He & I were talking about getting back together & I just didn't think it would be right to lead you on that way.
--Grrl so why are you calling me now?
--Well, Big Jay got in trouble for selling Oxycontin again & his mom won't bail him out of jail & he was supposed to come over here last month & he never showed up & he promised he was trying to clean up & I'm just so mad I could punch the wall.
--It really sucks when someone flakes out on you, doesn't it?
It was around this point that the bus came. Since I don't like talking on the bus I told him I'd call him back when I got home. When I called him from home the 1st thing I asked was "Have you been drinking?"
Surprise, the answer is YES.
--you prolly think I'm a bad person for doing this Sam
--No grrl I just think it's a shame that this is how you still keep dealing with things despite the fact that it is clearly not working.
I have to issue a disclaimer here--I realize that I am thriving off the drama of all of this & should have hung up the phone right here, but then I wouldn't have this story to tell!
So he starts telling me how mad he is at Big Jay for lying to him about getting off the pills and getting into trouble again and I asked him what he would tell me if I was trying to be friends some toxic person like my snaggle-puss tranny ex-roomie, Summer Teef, and he got all confused about what I was talking about, the way drunk hoes do. So after a few rounds of this (and a couple mentions of how he's about to go hang out with this cute 16 y.o. named Olly--who later turns out to be his cousin, but I'm sure that would be another story if I had the stomach for it) I finally just get down to brass tacks:
--So what is it that you want from me, Jay? Why are you calling after all this time when you have been drinking at 4 in the afternoon?
--I have to ask you something.
--........OK.
--This might seem like a fucked-up thing to ask.
--I'm sure it is, go ahead already.
--Well, if I decide to give things a try with you & come stay with you, can you support me until I can get a job in NOLA?
**I swear my jaw hit the floor at this point**
--No. I am not in a position to support anyone else in general and certainly not you in particular. But I don't understand why it is you think I want to give things a try with you. Beyond maybe a roll in the hay I don't really think you have a lot to offer. Even if I had just hit the Powerball & had infinite trillions at my disposal I wouldn't support you.
--Well, you were quick enough to take that money I was handing out after I ripped off Wells Fargo for like 20K in cash.
--Yea, and I also gave it back to you when you showed up at my house saying that your drugs were missing & you needed it back.
--Sam, why don't you think it would work out between us?
--Are you serious? It wouldn't work out between us because you are still fucked up. I can't trust you. That's it & that's all.
--You just don't get it Sam, drinking is the only way out that I have. I have to get out of my house right now, my mom's coming home & I'm drunk.
--I do not accept that ho. Drinking is the only way out that you're giving yourself. You are limiting yourself and this thing is killing you.
--What's the matter with me, Sam? Why can't I make it work with Big Jay??
--Grrl the problem now is the problem then: Both of you are fucked up & that's that. Neither one of you wants to grow up or change, no matter how much you suffer. But of all the things I have said to you today remember this: DO NOT CALL ME WHEN YOU ARE DRUNK. PERIOD. GOODBYE.
Clearly this is where I hung up & texted him the sentence in caps you just read. I got back an "I'm sorry" text.
Bitch Please. I was hanging out with my friend Matty Whips after the fact & this conversation just kept ringing in my ears. "Can you support me??" Indeed. I just do not know where some faggots get their nerve. "Why wouldn't I wanna have sex with you?" Well, honey, I can only come up with one reason to have sex with you, and that's just revenge. There are a whole ton more good reasons not to have sex with you that I don't even have the time to blog about.
At some point in our conversation he said something about being at a crossroads in his life. I was thinking more like tied to a railroad track with a big old engine with Jack Daniels written across it barrelling down on him like the Japanese Bullet trains that I see on the Hello Kitty websites.
But as I think of it, I'm at a crossroads myself. And I thank God, the Universe, Allah & any & all potential deities I may have overlooked that I'm not where he is.
Anyway, periodically I have gotten calls from Lil Jay. He's here, he's there. He's drunk. He's in AA. He's drunk again. He joined the Navy at some point & got put out for drug use. He wants to hang out. He is living in some other state & recently got so drunk that his BAC was an 8.0. Yes the decimal point is in the right place. He's back in Lousiana and wants to hang out.
The last time I got a call from him (I think January or February 2011) he was back in Central Louisiana, living at his mom's place & working & sounding pretty good. He was talking about coming to NOLA for a visit because he really wanted to see me. He was periodically giving me updates about Big Jay (they were not dating as BJ was still in FL with his parents, and trying to get off a pain pill addiction he'd picked up and extricate himself from some recurrent legal problems--go figure) and I was very....apprehensive? ambivalent? Something along those lines about the whole idea of Lil Jay coming for a visit into my (relatively) well-ordered life. Well, it was just a weekend. It wouldn't interfere with my real-life. But I really wasn't 100% sure about what was going to happen so I just directly asked him if we were gonna have sex when he got here. He said, "well yeah! Why wouldn't I want to have sex with you?" (For future reference, this is NOT a good come-on in my book) So I was into it, mostly because he's actually quite hot & bc he's kinda one of the few that "got away" (thankfully so). And so the big day arrives & that morning he sends me some sexy text messages & tells me he'll be in town by 9ish.
And then he never shows up. No Call, No Text, No Show, No Nothing. Please keep in mind the last time he was supposed to come over was in 2006 & the next day he called from jail, needing to be bailed out from a DUI. So I just take it for granted that some other ignorant thing has happened to him & I don't flip about it. I actually was relieved more than anything else. I deleted him from my FB but not from my phone, just in case he tried to call again.
Well, today after work at the Medical School, I was waiting for the bus & Guess Who is just bored enough to answer this foolish child's call??? That's right, me, everyone's favorite Large Retarded Woman!!!
--Hello?
--Do you hate me?
--Lil Jay, I don't hate you. I'm disapointed that you flaked but I take for granted that as long as you are drinking you are not reliable.
--Sam, the reason why I couldn't come see you is that I felt like I would be cheating on Big Jay. He & I were talking about getting back together & I just didn't think it would be right to lead you on that way.
--Grrl so why are you calling me now?
--Well, Big Jay got in trouble for selling Oxycontin again & his mom won't bail him out of jail & he was supposed to come over here last month & he never showed up & he promised he was trying to clean up & I'm just so mad I could punch the wall.
--It really sucks when someone flakes out on you, doesn't it?
It was around this point that the bus came. Since I don't like talking on the bus I told him I'd call him back when I got home. When I called him from home the 1st thing I asked was "Have you been drinking?"
Surprise, the answer is YES.
--you prolly think I'm a bad person for doing this Sam
--No grrl I just think it's a shame that this is how you still keep dealing with things despite the fact that it is clearly not working.
I have to issue a disclaimer here--I realize that I am thriving off the drama of all of this & should have hung up the phone right here, but then I wouldn't have this story to tell!
So he starts telling me how mad he is at Big Jay for lying to him about getting off the pills and getting into trouble again and I asked him what he would tell me if I was trying to be friends some toxic person like my snaggle-puss tranny ex-roomie, Summer Teef, and he got all confused about what I was talking about, the way drunk hoes do. So after a few rounds of this (and a couple mentions of how he's about to go hang out with this cute 16 y.o. named Olly--who later turns out to be his cousin, but I'm sure that would be another story if I had the stomach for it) I finally just get down to brass tacks:
--So what is it that you want from me, Jay? Why are you calling after all this time when you have been drinking at 4 in the afternoon?
--I have to ask you something.
--........OK.
--This might seem like a fucked-up thing to ask.
--I'm sure it is, go ahead already.
--Well, if I decide to give things a try with you & come stay with you, can you support me until I can get a job in NOLA?
**I swear my jaw hit the floor at this point**
--No. I am not in a position to support anyone else in general and certainly not you in particular. But I don't understand why it is you think I want to give things a try with you. Beyond maybe a roll in the hay I don't really think you have a lot to offer. Even if I had just hit the Powerball & had infinite trillions at my disposal I wouldn't support you.
--Well, you were quick enough to take that money I was handing out after I ripped off Wells Fargo for like 20K in cash.
--Yea, and I also gave it back to you when you showed up at my house saying that your drugs were missing & you needed it back.
--Sam, why don't you think it would work out between us?
--Are you serious? It wouldn't work out between us because you are still fucked up. I can't trust you. That's it & that's all.
--You just don't get it Sam, drinking is the only way out that I have. I have to get out of my house right now, my mom's coming home & I'm drunk.
--I do not accept that ho. Drinking is the only way out that you're giving yourself. You are limiting yourself and this thing is killing you.
--What's the matter with me, Sam? Why can't I make it work with Big Jay??
--Grrl the problem now is the problem then: Both of you are fucked up & that's that. Neither one of you wants to grow up or change, no matter how much you suffer. But of all the things I have said to you today remember this: DO NOT CALL ME WHEN YOU ARE DRUNK. PERIOD. GOODBYE.
Clearly this is where I hung up & texted him the sentence in caps you just read. I got back an "I'm sorry" text.
Bitch Please. I was hanging out with my friend Matty Whips after the fact & this conversation just kept ringing in my ears. "Can you support me??" Indeed. I just do not know where some faggots get their nerve. "Why wouldn't I wanna have sex with you?" Well, honey, I can only come up with one reason to have sex with you, and that's just revenge. There are a whole ton more good reasons not to have sex with you that I don't even have the time to blog about.
At some point in our conversation he said something about being at a crossroads in his life. I was thinking more like tied to a railroad track with a big old engine with Jack Daniels written across it barrelling down on him like the Japanese Bullet trains that I see on the Hello Kitty websites.
But as I think of it, I'm at a crossroads myself. And I thank God, the Universe, Allah & any & all potential deities I may have overlooked that I'm not where he is.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
May 3, 2011: 24 years later....
Graduation is just around the corner. I'm not sure what's happening next as far as employment goes but right now, on the 24th anniversary of the death of international gay icon, Dalida, I am beginning my work on her.
Some of you who know me from FB will remember a feature I did a while back called "Dalida of the Day" in which I would post a youtube video of a song of hers, along with some fun facts. The work I will be doing is going to go deeper than that. I will begin writing a memoir about Dalida & what she means to me, and why. I will have to look at just how having those few Dalida CDs I brought with me on when I evacuated NOLA for Hurricane Katrina saved my life. She is timeless to me. The more I listen to her, the better I understand not only the language in which she is singing (usually French, but she sang in 9 others) but also myself. The more I learn of her biography, the more I learn of myself. I hope I am able to make all this make sense. Most of the French or French-speaking people I know think of her as "dépassée" or outmoded, something from yesteryear. But for me, thanks in large part to the Internet, she is brand-new, eternal, incandescent in her candor. She speaks with candor about herself in interviews, she is amazingly honest with the public in a way I will have to be with myself if this is going to work properly. There are still plenty fans worldwide, and I hope I can also interview at least a few of them along the way as well, in order to give me more insight into this phenomenal artiste.
Clearly, my Gemini mind won't let me just work on one thing at a time, so I have already begun to translate David Lelait-Helo's beautifully written "Dalida--D'une rive à l'autre" with the hopes of being able to submit it to a publisher someday. It is a bit of a big task for a first time, but it's like I said when I put on those Wonder Woman bracelets right before I went in front of the cameras on The Weakest Link: No Guts, No Glory.
One year from today, barring illness or natural disasters, I will be at the Montmartre Cemetery to commmemorate that terrible night and pay hommage to the woman who saved my life even though she couldn't save her own.
Some of you who know me from FB will remember a feature I did a while back called "Dalida of the Day" in which I would post a youtube video of a song of hers, along with some fun facts. The work I will be doing is going to go deeper than that. I will begin writing a memoir about Dalida & what she means to me, and why. I will have to look at just how having those few Dalida CDs I brought with me on when I evacuated NOLA for Hurricane Katrina saved my life. She is timeless to me. The more I listen to her, the better I understand not only the language in which she is singing (usually French, but she sang in 9 others) but also myself. The more I learn of her biography, the more I learn of myself. I hope I am able to make all this make sense. Most of the French or French-speaking people I know think of her as "dépassée" or outmoded, something from yesteryear. But for me, thanks in large part to the Internet, she is brand-new, eternal, incandescent in her candor. She speaks with candor about herself in interviews, she is amazingly honest with the public in a way I will have to be with myself if this is going to work properly. There are still plenty fans worldwide, and I hope I can also interview at least a few of them along the way as well, in order to give me more insight into this phenomenal artiste.
Clearly, my Gemini mind won't let me just work on one thing at a time, so I have already begun to translate David Lelait-Helo's beautifully written "Dalida--D'une rive à l'autre" with the hopes of being able to submit it to a publisher someday. It is a bit of a big task for a first time, but it's like I said when I put on those Wonder Woman bracelets right before I went in front of the cameras on The Weakest Link: No Guts, No Glory.
One year from today, barring illness or natural disasters, I will be at the Montmartre Cemetery to commmemorate that terrible night and pay hommage to the woman who saved my life even though she couldn't save her own.
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