It's a big ole world out there

In case one or two or some of you out there (or even someone you know)are suffering from manic-depressive illness, or perhaps some other form of mental health issue, you should definitely read

An Unquiet Mind by Kay Redfield Jamison

it is truly an eye opener, rather then those crappy self help books that tell you that people with mental health problems are constantly the weak ones.

just so ya'll know. knowwhatimean?

and also, in case some of you are interested in extremely interestingly approached(read:awesome) erotica, read


The Letters of Mina Harker by Dodie Bellamy,

the teacher who inspired Lola's world of erotic writing...


and look how cute we are:




and if anyone wants to loan suzy and/or lola about three thousand dollars, we are accepting cash, checks, and diamonds.




because they're a girl's best friend.

catfight

alternate titles include:

"the night we were supposed to go to casanova lounge"

or:

"we are really good at not-doing what we planned to be doing"

instead we ended up at the lone palm

(a perfect deco bar with, truly, one lone palm tree)

drinking elderberry-lime cocktails

then, a stop at the market

to pick out adorable snacks

(the only acceptable kinds of snacks)

we end up with this cake,

which involves ganache and buttercream

and pretty pink sparkles (sold!)

...but did not taste as magical as promised.

(sigh)

last but not least, we watch our cats

(one black, one white)

in action:

the most epic of all epic cat-battles

there is no clear winner -

the jury is still out.

She's Full of Woe and Cheerios

I think I titled a paper with that once.

With each blog I create, I hope to not write so much about the ghost of love, but it always comes out. It seeps through the cracks in the street down belowbelowbelow, somewhere I'm not sure of, but it sticks. It is always there.

but, honestly, what am I talking about? Oh yes....


This is the only poem I have ever written that I like,

"eating an orange
with you.
my dress
on
the
floor,
how did everything get so sticky?"

I could never compare to "I'm a better poet than you," but HEY I ain't no poet, I'm a writer.

Or right now I'm just a gal looking for her place in a tiny town filled with bigger worlds.

thank you, thank you. And happy new year all you lovely people. Hopefully picture will ensue !

black and gold

our day "began" around dusk. lola picked me up - i came down the stairs only to realize we were, once again, wearing the same thing. no surprise there - it's our telepathic connection, or something like that. both of us in black heels, black mesh scandal dresses, topped with leopard coats and red lips. our first task: an impromptu photo shoot in golden gate park. somewhere along the line one of us was naked, or nearly naked - how can i explain how these things happen? - wrapped in only a scrap of lace and a leopard coat, shed pumps and black dress littering the park's grassy carpet. it was 50 degrees in golden gate that night, us snapping photos of bare skin, drastic shadows from the lone lamp-light nearby.

and then!

we've got the shot, and it's goosebumps, throwing clothes on, rushing to a heated car

and then -

it's off, for what turns out to be largely discounted drinks and free bread, which becomes our dinner. We dine in sequinned masks, one black and one gold, incognito, identities blurred, vision blurred -

and then!

the bar gives us a free shot of tequila before we wander into the lite-brite night of downtown san francisco....

the night ends with us at denny's, late-nite, always classy, dripping in paste diamonds and costume jewelry that we somehow picked up along the way. we feast on diner food, turtle ice-cream pie. the wonder twins, the masked avengers - we are unstoppable,
the revolution continues.

HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY(after)

T0 Suzy Creamcheese, light of my life, fire of my loins....

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twincest

“Sex appeal is fifty percent what you’ve got and fifty percent what people think you’ve got.”
Sophia Loren

“Most girls don’t know what to do with what they’ve got.”
Jayne Mansfield

identical black pumps on two pairs of stockinged feet, two chanel bags thrown over two white shoulders (are they real? we'll never tell). a scramble to find: a pocket mirror, the right shade of lipstick. i borrow hers or vice versa, lips stained red and hot pink, to match our dress, respectively (what would barbie do?). On each white thigh, a matching tattoo - interlocking c's, at the stocking line. But there is also this: reading Henry Miller, watching twin peaks, drinking whiskey in the park at midnight. Using a mutual gift with words to construct the perfect erotic email. Free drinks, free entrance, because there's not much two blondes can't do.

We figure, these skills must be marketable. A vaudeville act, a siamese-twin dress with sequins, a burlesque number, a dominatrix den. With our days we peddle clothing, slips of silk and chiffon, shopgirls dreaming of silk boudoirs and the Playboy Club. Sleeping in pincurls and waking up with smeared mascara.

for a few days, we stayed in the executive suite of a local hotel, microwave food and ice cream and instant coffee, feeling like royalty or a wes anderson movie.