Poppy Z. Brite's Blog, page 73

Up Too Late

Another cold evening spent beneath a heap of cats, scaring myself into immobility reading ontdcreepy . Little feral ghost girls? HOW ABOUT NO, as they say? Now unscaring myself with Billy Joel videos. (It occurs to me that this would probably work in reverse for a lot of people.) "She's Right On Time" isn't one of my favorite songs, but I never realized he was supposed to be trashing the place. And oh, those white/pastel '80s suits with their narrow pant legs and butt-showing jackets. I cannot overstate how happy I am that they went out of fashion long before I bought a male wardrobe.

Also, a couple of people have sent me this terrifying link: every song from Disc One of The Essential Billy Joel played simultaneously.

Oh, and can y'all please report this fake Facebook me? Remember, I do NOT have a Facebook page under my name!

Here, have some kitten tongue.

Older Than My Mother

ME: Do you like Billy Joel?

MY MOTHER (who turns 73 next week): Not really.

ME: Why not?

MY MOTHER: He's too old-fashioned.

New Baby

We recently adopted two cats from ARNO, a local no-kill animal shelter that's doing wonderful work but is very overcrowded at present. The older cat, Tristan, is still mostly living under the couch and doesn't like having a camera aimed at him yet (though he does like to get petted). Here's the baby, Alexa:





She looks a lot like Jennifer, one of the major cats of my adolescence. She isn't full-blooded Siamese -- her mother looked like an Abyssinian mix, and her littermates had different markings -- but she's appropriately loud and bossy. And yes, she does have a perfect little trident on her forehead. Frankie (with her above) was her first feline friend here, and she still thinks he is so cool. He has become kind of an ambassador; right now he's behind the couch trying to make friends with Tristan, who's still all hissy.

Mysterious Edible Flower

The produce at Hong Kong Market on the Westbank is always interesting, but after five years of shopping there, I thought we'd seen most of the variety they had to offer. However, neither Chris nor I could identify these flower buds (labeled "Bong Sua Dua," but I've think I've seen that on other produce). From the shape and some Google images, I'm thinking they might be pea flowers. Can anyone confirm this and/or offer details on how they are used?

Creepy

I just finished reading every single entry on the wonderful Japanese ghost story/urban legend blog Saya in Underworld. (I didn't dare watch most of the videos.) The good side: It was fascinating. The bad side: Chris will be at work until 3 or 4 AM and I am now scared to move from the sofa.

I found the blog via ontdcreepy , a community I cherish because it's where I first came across Trollface. Our eyes met across this crowded post and it was love at first sight. Do any of you read ontdcreepy or similar sites? If so, do you do so sitting alone in your house and proceed to creep yourself out and actually scream when one of your cats suddenly bumps into something and makes a loud noise? Not that I've ever done such a thing, of course.

But Which Way Did He "Dress"?

The Kensington true-crime quickie I picked up last night might be the single stupidest book I've ever read, but I am in love with this description of one of the murderer's defense attorneys:

"He had piercing, dark eyes, salt-and-pepper brows, a tight butt, stained teeth, and also a taste for good red wine."

Had I been asked to blurb this book, I think I could have said honestly, "Not every writer is capable of such description."

Troll Novels, Freezer Cats, & Dead Flowers

How to Write the Greatest Novel EVAH!

I wish I'd thought of this years ago, except that I would have had to keep a monkey, and they are an awful lot of trouble. Speaking of troublesome animals, I may have unfairly convicted Terrell in the freezer affair. I've actually seen him open the freezer before, but this morning (after I had put the new lock on) I saw Deano not just on top of the fridge, but actually pawing at the freezer door. Fiends on all sides!

I spent too much of today sleeping. When I wasn't sleeping, I was mostly planting African marigolds to replace some petunias that did absolutely horribly in the lovely pots I bought especially for them. Henceforth, if I want to grow petunias, I will plant them either in the ground or in hanging baskets. In deep pots they always seem to languish, look awful, and eventually die. The roots stay too damp, I suppose. I have several kinds of lettuces coming along beautifully, and there is a monarch chrysalis on the milkweed.

Ouch

Dear Billy,

Please get well soon. Trollface and I are even worse drivers than you, and we ran the Downeaster Alexa onto another coral reef. Good thing we have that daily "Reset Reality" button or I don't know what we would do. Also, he graffiti'd a whale.

Love,

The Doc

(This news scared the living shit out of me when it came on CBS radio news. I was scooping litterboxes and all of a sudden the announcer said, "Billy Joel, 61 ... " and they started playing "Piano Man." Of course my first thought was "NOOOOOOOOOOOO HE'S DEAD!!!")

Massive Thaw

Discouragement. If I don't keep a baby lock on our freezer, our cat Terrell will open the door during the night. He doesn't get inside or take things out, so I can only assume this is an act of pure malice (which kinda fits with his personality). Apparently the old lock is broken -- they only last a year or so; most people's babies grow up -- and this morning I found the following items thawed, dripping, foul, and ruined:

2 gallon bags adult mice (python food)
3/4 quart bag of pinkie mice (baby tricolored hognose snake food)
2 lbs. andouille
1 large ham steak
1.5 lbs. duck hearts (cat treats)
2 lbs. beautiful (and expensive) Pat's of Henderson crawfish tails
1 quart gumbo

Also several pounds of vegetables, which wouldn't necessarily go bad but which would get mushy if refrozen. At least I was able to compost those. The waste of the meat and seafood makes me sick. Also, gross refrigerator/freezer stuff = bad post-K memories.

On the bright side, we now have LOTS of space in our freezer, so maybe we can make it out to Cajun country and stock up on boucherie. (After I install the new baby lock.)

Water, Water Everywhere

More than six months after the worst oil spill in U.S. history, Grand Isle is still struggling. Residents are sick, physically and emotionally. Many are devastated financially. They say the place they call home and its prized resources have been tainted and tarnished. And more painfully, they think the world has forgotten them.

Please, please read the whole article. It isn't very long, and you will be one more person who hasn't forgotten.

In other Third World news, the New Orleans Sewer & Water Board's in-house electrical plant failed on Friday. Restaurants all over the city (including the Green Goddess) spent hours trying to run a busy dinner service with little to no water pressure. Other businesses, health care facilities, and homes also suffered. Since 3:00 AM Saturday morning (though citizens weren't told about it until 8 AM), we've been under a boil-water advisory. The mayor's office initially predicted this would end by Saints kickoff time today (another Drew Brees miracle!), but it has been extended until further notice. Luckily, due to hurricane preparations, we always have enough bottled water to get us through a few days, though I'm seeing that we should probably have even more.