Sunday, November 16, 2008

According to Dan, I began my Saturday saying something about "Bastard!" in my sleep.

I dreamt that he had brought home four rabbits in a cage, they had all gotten out, and he expected me to run and get the bunnies and put 'em back in the cage. No wonder I was yelling in dreamworld.

"I decided not to wake you," Dan told me later. "Whatever frustrations you had, I figured it was better for you to work 'em out in REM sleep."

Thanks, honey. Thanks a bundle.

It was the little guy's last game of the soccer season and the day of his school's fall festival, which was planned to have loads of inflatables for the kids to bounce around on for the day, while the adults could wander over and take in the Panorama Jazz Band's music and, later on, the Wild Magnolias show as well as that of Sunpie Barnes and his Louisiana Sunspots. Loads of fun despite the stink of what I initially thought was simply somebody's child's seriously toxic diaper, but turned out to be loads and loads of these:

Turns out somebody involved in the vending for this festival had the bright idea of selling cases of these things for the kids to wreak havoc on initially unsuspecting fest-goers. The smell of these things makes the horse crap smell of the JazzFest grounds this past year a rosy change of pace in comparison. I found myself wishing even more that I could jump around in the Space Walk with the little guy, since that seemed to be the only fart-bomb-free place on the entire school grounds.

Saturday night was our Collective Birthdays Dinner night, since Dan just had a birthday on November 7th, my birthday is next month, our friend Edie's birthday is this month, and her daughter and her daughter's boyfriend have December birthdays as well. We headed for Restaurant August and enjoyed an incredible meal, at which I feasted on an amazing cassoulet and enjoyed some champagne on the house in honor of Edie's birthday. A perfect night, until the small scream of a fashionably dressed lady at the table behind me and the sound of her chair scraping the floor in her haste to get away from her place at the table marred things a bit. Seems one of our semi-frequent houseguests in this part of the country had paid her a visit at the center of the table, right next to the wine bottle:

Howdy, ma'am! Lovely dress! May I sample your appetizer?

I couldn't resist leaning over to the lady in question and saying, "Hey, par for the course!", 'cause I'm such a stinker myself when I've had a great meal...especially when I observed her tablemates covering the roach with the wine bottle and calling on the bemused waitstaff to dispose of this creature that was freaking her out so. I walked off to the bathroom shortly after the incident and overheard some of the staff shrugging it off as "It's New Orleans!" I agreed wholeheartedly with that assessment. It wasn't an epidemic, simply a single bug dropping in on an unsuspecting bunch of Mardi Gras bead-wearing tourists.

We exited the restaurant and headed out to our car only to get a call on Dan's cell from Edie telling him that her car was covered...
She immediately ran out to two car washes she could find that were open at 10 o' clock at night and ran it through them twice...and she still has some of that crud on her car.

Who do I blame the most for all these recent encounters with nasty odors, vermin, and bird poo?

The woman responsible for saddling this city with "a Rolls Royce when we could only afford a Camry". The one whose "miss-trash" gaffes are more than likely causing even more city funds to be funneled down a black hole that more than likely leads to the pockets of many cronies of Hizzoner the Walking Id, if not the man himself. The woman who is more than content to go running off crying to the mayor and cowering behind his tailored suit when she is being asked, repeatedly, to give evidence that she is actually doing what's best for the city. What is she trying to hide by not answering this basic question? Don't you, as a city taxpayer, want to know?

Stacey Jackson was an easy scapegoat in the NOAH scandal as far as the current Mayor's Office is concerned because she was already out of her office by the time the list of supposed renovated homes hit the fan.

I'm waiting to see what happens with Veronica White here, since she is an acting director. Will the Walking Id use her as a human shield? Will she resign and head to an undisclosed location in Dallas? Will this be investigated by the city's Inspector General and the FBI with the utmost swiftness so that we can see the people responsible get the hook from the Perdido Street monolith?

Or will this whole past Saturday of mine be explained away as being simple random acts of bizarre coincidence?

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