Who goes there? Please leave comments so (An Aries Knows)!
My new best friends:
My other best friends with their new accessories:
Guinness: Lady in Red.
Margot: Devil With the Blue Dress.
Meanwhile, in his own apartment, oblivious to the girls:
But first, a diatribe…
read diatribe here
When I was able to make a Friday night LJ entry from the hotel in New Orleans, I said I wanted to be at Cafe’ Du Monde and would go the next day. Can I just say that Tim is the greatest friend ever for reading about my craving and offering to walk there with me, in our “casual wear?” Yes, it’s true. I was wearing a blue silk tank that I sleep in and some jersey jammie bottoms that could–and did, I hope–pass for pants. Tim was in the Guinness jammies the dogs gave him for Christmas.
Okay, here’s a secret. I’m pretty sure Tim sleeps in the buff. But when others are present, he sometimes sleeps in this ensemble:
Continue reading “New Orleans, Part Two: Pajamas and Calories”
That Tim writes a good summary of some of the wonderful writers we met in New Orleans. I’d just make a pictorial accompaniment to his post, but I’m missing photos of a couple of the authors, plus… I’m a writer–like I could shut up.
Continue reading “New Orleans, Part One: The French Quarter”
Some deep literary discussion.
Hungry Man Dinner.
Treehugger.
James,
hails from Becky’s On Hobson’s Wharf in Portland, Maine. I love the “staff” section of Becky’s site.
And by popular, I mean three people, here are more photos.
Back in the 1980s, when I wasn’t as sweet as I am now (shut up, Tim), a co-worker gave me a coffee mug that says, “Perfect Bitch.” I thanked him for agreeing believing I was perfect.
Do not adjust your monitor.
Paul and Timmy at Barnaby’s, a favorite Montrose restaurant.
Tim looks so serious. Rex is dreaming of a 7.5-pound perch.
Me, plotting ways to make Jim miss his flight. Jim, knowing what I’m doing.
As referenced in my previous post, here are more photos from that April day in 2001. I just realized one of my favorites is hanging on the wall in my dining room, though.
Timmy is sad because he had to get a new backpack.
I admit, I’m sort of fond of Timmy’s old backpack, too, mostly because I have this photo of it from a visit the TJB writers made to Houston’s Cancer Survivors Plaza, I think back in early 2001.
This is not my favorite photo from that day, but I’d have to get permission from the guys before I could post any of the others.
