so yesterday a motely crew of 9 wimse-iers came with me to the children's museum and it was a lot of fun. most (all?) had never really walked around downtown so that was cool to visit a few places there with them...and laugh at honorary reo speedwagon way...it *is* really funny.

i'm really tired today and i'm sick of this weather. i just can't get motivated to give much of a crap about my *wardrobe* choices when it's in the 90s. i should never live in the deep south. ever.

and speaking of, i read on salon.com yesterday a story about a former playboy club bunny from the early 70s who spent a decade in new orleans and it was actually quite good. the city, as it was all those summers ago, is gone. i hope that they can rebuild but it's hard to hear about the destruction and to now envisage all the places i knew and loved being treated as *storage houses* for the displaced...no one should be treated the way they were treated, not in this so-called rich country of ours...their inhumane treatment in those early days after the hurricaine is only worsened by the heartbreak of hearing about separations from their pets...i can't even watch...

me, walking around with vrboy and sleepless and others after drinking way too much on the quarter...scenesters at underground afterparties...back in our young days...the steam and the sin and the spying off the balconies...jazz and drink...and tellers on the square and she told me it'd all work out and it wasn't until last night that it dawned on me...that maybe it has and it's spooky the way it all worked out...when i'd forgotten that part of the dream...