Signs: Bee Building

Here's a bee building. You can buy bee keeping supplies here. It is next to underneath the freeway so I hadn't noticed it before. In Manhattan I never saw a bee keeping supply store, but that didn't mean that there weren't insects. I saw fireflies in the garden in Brooklyn occasionally. But the nature thing that freaked me out was the park I lived next to. It had no squirrels. No squirrels. I didn't notice that it had no squirrels till I got a scent hound that focused on squirrels. And then I realized that the local park was a mono-culture of trees. They only had this one type of tree planted and it apparently didn't have anything a squirrel would want to eat, so they didn't hang out in columbus park with the manly, virile statue of good ole Chris Columbus. That statue man, it rankled me. It portrayed Chris as this well built handsome guy and you just know that with all that sailing he did that he was short and had scurvy and was malnourished. Plus people associate beauty with goodness, and we know that Chris wanted to enslave native people. So I don't get it. Why have a statue of him, why name parks after him? It's not like he discovered America for christ's sake. The people who lived here did. And if you want to be Eurocentric about it all, the Vikings were here first, specifically the Greenland Norse who were coming over here to get wood because trees don't grow in Greenland. They wrote SAGAS about it. Yes the Norse were drunk, but so was Columbus and have you ever read about how much ale and wine was on the Mayflower???

Signs: Jim Dennys

I don't eat hamburgers, but if I did, I would eat at this spot.

Ask Me For A Condom Day

I realized that I was remiss in putting photos of the peebs up.



I had originally written that I was "amiss" - which means out of proper order. Which was not what I meant. I meant that I had to scroll down to see pictures of the hounds and I needed to put more pics up top, which would be "remiss" of me - lax in attending to one's duty.

I heard on the radio that today is "Ask Me For A Condom Day" at U.C. Davis. Davis is a big agri school so I figure that they know all about the birds and the bees, the cows and the goats and the difference between a donkey and an ass. You can learn how to artifically inseminate a cow at U.C. Davis, so I figure that they really don't need the interactive condom demonstrations.

Signs: Flame Club

Oh, the immortal FLAME CLUB! What sophsiticated excesses went on here??? Can you feel the smoke, the glamour, the pain in your liver?

There goes the neighborhood

This morning while feeding the hounds, a kibble fell and rolled under the stove. Now we'll have to move, or just cede the kitchen to the dogs.

nun shoes

There's something about hitting 40, everything starts going south, so as you look down to watch how far south it goes, you see something down there. Your feet. And you say, "Maybe I should get some killer shoes."

I mean, in the 90's I had some great biker chick boots and I was doing Carmen Miranda Biker Chick and the Jolly Plump Tap Dancing Dominatrix, you know, styles that have a certain cachet, something sexy and dangerous and in the case of tap dancing, loud. And then in the Aughts (what else do we call this decade?) I had a pair of really comfortable orange clogs, I wore them all the time and I looked like Donald Duck. And that's what a decade can do for you, you go from Carmen Miranda Biker Chick to Donald Duck. But while I lived in New York and could wear groovy shoes, I was faced here in Sacto with a need to get a pair of shoes that went with a suit skirt. And so I got these ones with buttons. They remind me of nun shoes. I hate them. I was going on the first of about nine thousand fruitless job interviews and I knew I couldn't wear dirty old orange clogs with a 400 dollar aubergine suit. So I bought these nun shoes.

I can hear you, you are saying "they're not bad."

But I FEEL constrained in them, I feel they are not groovy. I FEEL that nuns could mug me for them. And everything has gone south now and the only thing I have left is my feet. When I was in my 20s and 30s I wore comfortable shoes and eschewed silly high heeled pumps. And dangerous frosty platforms. But I had cleavage then.

But now? I could do with a bit of heel and some danger. So on my last interview, I was wearing a lovely blue grey suit and the dreaded nun shoes. But I popped into a shoe store downtown and bought these blue ostrich cowboy boots. They look great with my pant suit, but here in this photo they are paired with my jeans.

Wouldn't you rather hire a woman wearing blue cowboy boots rather than nun shoes? I mean this is Sacramento, there are actual COWS, I'm just blending into the crowd.

Signs: Vics

This is not the best sign in town, but I saw it while walking the hounds this weekend. Have I mentioned that the hounds are Petit Basset Griffon Vendeens? Yep. This is all you need to know about me. I have fancy french hound dogs that look like muts. Anyhow, Vics, I ate ice cream there once, it was good. There aren't that many places to get good ice cream here. Not like New York where there's a gelato stand every block. An entire city running on caffeine and butterfat.

King\Alito

Is it just me? Doesn't anyone find it heartbreaking that Coretta Scott King died the same day the Senate voted to confirm Samuel (never met a woman who didn't need the option of dying from a backroom abortion for her wicked ways) Alito?

Sad, sad, sad day for America.