I have a really big problem with movies about hauntings. Well, not so much a big problem with the movies themselves as much as the people in them. You know the kind I mean: they sit around wondering what or whose voice is telling them to get out, rather than packing. Personally, I don't need a voice. A post-it on the fridge would work for me, I am just that easy. Then there's that one guy who takes the broken flashlight into the basement full of dismembered baby dolls. And inevitably the chick who just must shower, alone, naked, in the haunted house, at night.
May 06, 2014
Sitting right on top my bucket list is a picture of me sitting right on top Mount Kilimanjaro. Whenever I say this, people look at me like I am bat swattin' crazy. You see, I am not exactly one who enjoys long strolls anywhere. I don't walk on the beach because lying down on the beach is better, I don't to hike in the forest because lying down in the forest is better, and I don't strolling through neighborhoods looking at cute houses, because lying down on my sofa in my own house is better.
February 11, 2014
Sipping Cafe au Lait while indulging in buttery, golden croissants at the Croissant D'Or Patisserie, we stepped back into a time when time itself was savored and sipping coffee with friends was a special daily ritual. For a moment, we thought that we might walk out the door and see the top of the Tour d'Eiffel peeking at us from behind a row of Haussmann apartment buildings rather than the Ursuline Convent nearby.
November 05, 2013
In Catholic school, Sister Roseland would slap my knee and remind me that a gentleman did not stick his knees in the aisle in front of lady. I tried to explain to her that I was freakishly tall and that my desk was far too small, hoping she would cut this giant a little slack. She did so by sticking me I the back of the classroom away from the normal sized kids, where, as she put it, she never walked. I grew to hate being tall. I looked for the lowest soles on shoes and wouldn't dream of wearing boots or anything that added height to what already seemed an obnoxious mistake.
August 02, 2013
I spent approximately five years of my childhood praying to baby Jesus that he would make me a Brady. I loved their house, their dog, their housekeeper, and I especially loved the day Jan Brady decided she wanted out. I thought "I could do that, I can be Jan Brady; I am bitter and jealous of everyone already." Needless to say, it never happened and I was forced to move forward as Ryan: sweet, soft, loving ... well.
April 29, 2013
God forbid I should ever have to take a really good look at myself on the inside. While so many of my friends spend countless hours and countless dollars trying to find themselves, one actually spent more time than I think he should have getting tattoos and donkey in a small Mexican town/prison, I prefer to embrace the mystery that remains in me. Call it fear, if you like, because really, that is what it is. I scare the dickens out of myself with what I already know about me; I care not to scratch any farther than the surface.
January 30, 2013
Some art aficionados might argue that the Sistine Chapel and the Mona Lisa are the most beautiful works of art. Historians and architects might debate that the Great Pyramids stand far and above as the greatest architectural achievements of all time. And while Evel Knievel might have found his Harley Davidson XR-750 to be the finest piece of machinery ever built, I tend to think that the human body beats them all.
November 08, 2012
I am a firm believer that all great things come in twos. Just look at Laverne and Shirley, The Lone Ranger and Tonto, Sony and Cher, chilled vodka and a Percocet. When one is good, its compliment makes it stupendous. If there were two of me, I would have more time to lie about going to the gym, play Madden 13, and I just know I could at least get one chair to turn on The Voice.
July 31, 2012
It's no secret that I love a birthday. Any reason to eat cake, have drinks, pay a stripper from my sofa, and cry is a sure fine way to celebrate. The French Quarter is sitting on the edge of its less-than-perfect seat in anticipation of August 11, 2012. Why are we perched on such a precarious place? That's easy. It's Dirty Linen, of course. One of the biggest and most celebrated days up and down Royal Street will celebrate its 11th birthday this year. As with all birthdays, the crew promises a bunch of fun new things along with the expected old stuff, too.
July 31, 2012
Frankenstein might not have been the cutest guy at the bar, and while the 'morning after' might involve washing some green out of your Laura Ashley pillow cases, it's his inner vulnerability and good heart under all that green stuff that makes him, well, irresistible. And, while a date with The Wolfman might not be great for your Scalamandre drapes, it's his romantic background story that could make you look past the furry face and attachment to sniffing our 2(x) ist underwear. Oh, and what about the hot guy living under interstate with half a face and the great abs and silky cape?