14 June, 2004

Candy Bites

...once in a dream/far beyond these Castle Walls/I stood alone....

I follow a late model limo covered in iridescence purple tiles, adorned with planetary spheres, far, far up Canal Street. There are electrical wires in a circle on the hood. The flame pattern in tile around the circle suggests that this is where the Sun belongs. Art Car, from Florida, no less.

"You're late."
Am I?
"Santa was supposed to have left you in my stocking."
I hadn't heard it before, but that doesn't make it original.

Bite of bengiet is hot happiness in my mouth. Powdered sugar spreads across black clothing. I sip cafe au lait and am content. If you leave this city without loosening your belt, you are obviously not doing it right.

I think this is the South; it is not only the size of my vehicle that makes me more relaxed than usual while driving. This is not the South, perhaps: there is more laying-on of horns than I am used to in Speedy DC or Busy Baltimore.

I try on what are without doubt the most frivolous of Foolish Shoes I have ever had on my feet. The sherbet colors, the Frederick's of Hollywood heel, the pink jelly thong...I take the shop's card, but leave the shoes on the shelf. It was hard; they were On Clearance.

Even though I'm no further from him than usual, I feel somehow bereft of his company. I don't know what that means.

A beautiful independent bookstore is worth a Quest, for it carries McSweeney's materials. Even if they were available at the large chains, I somehow feel better about buying them here.

Doretha, Merylyn, Una Mae. The names sing sweetly, dripping with gardenia.

I sit with overbuttered popcorn, wondering if watching a movie alone on a Saturday night while in the French Quarter makes me more pathetic than usual. I think it does.

The movie makes me sadder than I'd imagined, for reasons I hadn't expected. Wynona Ryder is forgiven for her unsubtle performance in Titanic, and Jim Carey nearly convinces me he can act. He appears to have done a character study on someone I know, down to mannerism and speech pattern.

Loss and memory seem thematic lately.

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