I'm feeling vignettish right now.
*~*
This weekend, Toastgirl and I were at a soiree. One of the girls there was talking about Lily Pulizer dresses and how she could never wear one because she's too ethnic looking. She turns to Toastgirl and says, "only girls like you can wear them. You have that patrician, clean, wholesome look." Then she turns to me and says, "YOU, shouldn't even try one ON. Don't even go near it."
I found this amusing, as I consider myself pretty all-american looking. Toastgirl also found it amusing, and said to me, "Does this mean that you are no longer filled with Rockwellian innocence and wonderment?" The latter is how Toastgirl's friend described she and I this winter as we had a ball playing and chatting and bar hopping during a long, snowy Tuesday night this winter. We found that description delightful.
Puzzled and curious, I wondered the same thing, so I turned to the Lily guru and posed the question, "Am I not filled with Rockwellian innocence and wonderment?" And she said, "Oh no, you ARE filled with a childlike innocence and wonder, but in a dark, Roman Polanski kind-of way. You know, in a Lolita kind of way."
Toastgirl and I were flabbergasted, in an amused kind of way. Further probing into this perception, because it's really all about me anyway, I asked the girl if she felt I was more like a Rhoda? This girl proceeded to explain that she's more Rhoda "you're like Courtney Love." And then Toastgirl explained that I'm Courtney Love to her Rose McGowan.
Satisfied with that, Toastgirl and I ditched the soiree to kick up some trouble at another party spot until the wee hours of the morning.
*~*
I met this rad diarylander for drinks Sunday night and I have to admit, she's the best thing to come out of Orange County since Gwen Stefani. I adore Pix. A-D-O-R-E. She boosted my perception of internet people. She is all that you dream and more. I am so excited for her and her new life in London.
I miss her already and she's only been gone an hour and 27 minutes. Safe travels, friend, and remember, it always works out in the end. There can be happy endings.
*~*
I was watching "Gimme Shelter" last week and I was stunned to watch, again, how moronic the Rolling Stones were with that show. I refuse to give them any leniency whatsoever for their actions at Altamont. Jerry Garcia properly acted at Altamont. He stepped off the bus, spoke with a roadie who broke down the bad scene to him, and he and Dead turned around and got back on the bus and left.
Meanwhile, Keith Richards just dragged around like a doped up skitzo. Who the hell did he think he was, oblivious in a stupor when a fan was dead, all in the name of publicity for their band? Sober up. I mean, someone DIED - show some respect.
But they did make some rad records.
*~*
I'm sick of the grind. I'm all finished with the structure. Structure is not my friend. I feel like I'm back in high school, staring out the window and turning out after 5 longs hours of lectures and chalkboard outlines. I need the coddling comfort of college, where you could opt to go to class or you could cram all night.
I am thinking I would like to do something that involves creating an actual product. Revelation, I know;-) I've been designing these shirts. I've made about five and I want to try to sell them at a local boutique. The problem is that I just don't feel any of them are perfect yet. And the only time I have to make them is during the weekend, but it takes me all weekend to gather materials and develop the design and by the time I am ready to make them, the weekend is over. So I have to design late at night during the week or wait until the following weekend.
What I need is a benefactor. I need someone wealthy to recognize my *vision* and give me a "grant" so that I can "create." Where are the benefactors? Are there any Rockefellers still living?
I need Jonathan Adler home furnishings and I think that this venture may be the road to a posh, mod home by Adler. Praytell, when will I have earned the large aorta vase and eyelet china? I need to rest my vision on that plush, cabbana pillow!
WHERE IS THE JUSTICE?
...and more importly, where is Anne Sexton's wardrobe?!?! Now that dame, she had style and she avoided the grind. Love her...
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