Add this to the list of reasons why it would be a mistake to move away from New Orleans: My mechanics are a trio of guys named, I swear to God, Big Charlie, Little Charlie, and Roscoe.

In case you needed perspective, Jessica Simpson said that prior to the Teen Choice Awards she worked out 5 days a week for 2 hours a day. Anyway, I think you look lovely.

I finally moved off of Then She Appeared to other songs. Score! This is my new favorite (unless Dani is in the car) band.

So, last night after work I got into it with my bosses. For perhaps the first time in my life I criticised an employer. She took it much worse than I thought and ended up trying to fire her two best waitresses and interim managers. For the record, I'm in the right. For those of you who know me, I never think that I am in the right, so this is a big deal. In the meantime, I implore all of you to save me from childishness; it's an unattractive quality in a 60-year-old woman and, in this particular case, detrimental to the business in which she has invested her savings.

For a good time: Brush your teeth with minty toothpaste and then go to your local coffee shop and drink mint iced tea.

Every one is going back to school. I am not remotely envious.

I gave Andrew an essay to critique and he responded intelligently and thoughtfully. He also said that he enjoyed the exercise of critiquing it and that we should start a salon. So now I shall act as though that were an excellent idea and isn't he clever to have thought of it and he shall never know that it was carefully planned by The Women... unless of course he reads this blog... which I don't think he does... although what do I know? I didn't think any of you read it except for Storeyman and Stina, and yet... Anyway, do men ever just assume that, while they may not know exactly what is going on, they are somehow being manipulated by women? They probably do in a negative way, which is a shame, because in my experience they are usually happier for our behind-the-scenes maneuverings.

Interestingly, the things that Andrew critiqued are the ones that Dani liked.

There is an EightBall on the counter at Cafe Luna which has never failed to tell me exactly what I want to hear. I'm always so happy with its responses that it never occurs until later to me that none of it actually happens. I think I am happier being told that my dreams will come true than I would be if they actually came true. I think many of us are the same.

It is pouring rain. The rain here is Biblical in its proportions. The thought of leaving lays me low and renders me unable to breathe. I love the jazz on the radio and the tattoos on the back of the girl who just passed my table. But much better to leave while I feel this way.

I recommend to you:

"Little Miss Sunshine."

"Scoop."

"Then She Appeared" by XTC

Is there any more uncomfortable place in the world to have mosquito bites than on the soles of your feet?

I had a marathon session last night of putting music into my ipod and today Shuffle has been particularly kind to me and the world seems brighter in my eyes.

You know that you're feeling conflicted or confused when Tori Amos lyrics start making sense.

All night I dreamt of work, which is a bad sign. It's a wonderful place, in spite of the best efforts of the owner, a petulant, inexperienced, drunken woman and her daughter, a passive-agressive, careless, drunken chef. Why are so many jobs enjoyable in spite of and not because of the bosses? Although, on further reflection, it's only every job I've had here in New Orleans. Most of the managers in Starbucks were not very good, every manager at Commander's except Stan and Bruce was a moron, Doug is his own mystery and now this. If you ever want to talk about why this city gets nothing done, I could tell you.

What do you think of Montreal? Can you see me there?

The thing which is most desired never appears.

Why is it so hard to bring myself to communicate these days?

I am beginning to make plans to leave. Of course, as soon as I realize that I can leave whenever I want, I'm stunned still. I am sitting on the porch of Cafe Luna, it is 99 degrees and today the mood is one of slight disappointment, tempered with exhaustion and leavened with expectation. I can't remember either why I am disappointed or what I am expecting because it's too hot. So I sit here and try to decide whether I should leave in January or April. At this moment, I honestly can't decide which is better. I don't want to be here and turn 26. What if we're meant to work something out? Surely I should stay close by, just in case. I can't leave Vaughan's and Dani so soon as January. I don't want to be working for so long at the same place. I don't want to miss the possibility that something will happen. I don't want to break my lease. These are all negatives. So I want... to want something. To wear boots and a coat. To start myself over. To know for sure. To be learning something. To be able to walk at night. To have the time and ability and focus to read. The days go so slowly but the hours vanish.

I do not like people who refer to themselves as their pets' "Mommies" or "Daddies". Although, if we are honest, I am not overly fond of people with pets.

I am many negative things, but I do not think I am overly negative and right now I value that. Aaaah, now I remember why I am feeling disappointed. Yesterday I was disenchanted by two friends. It was an unpleasant and unsual experience (because I have superior friends). However, I am not unaware that at this moment I am personally letting down one grandmother, two brothers and three friends... and those are just the ones that I know of or am willing to admit to you.

It is not out of the realm of possibility that I will one day want to own or manage a restaurant or cafe. There are few places I like better and few things I like more than the sight of people enjoying themselves with other people in safety and comfort and warmth.

I've made some cuts to the old entries. It was an interesting exercise.

Perhaps the two most self-destructive things that I do are to stop talking to you and to stop reading. But I still don't feel like communicating... Not just yet.

Last night, as I drove home on Annunciation and turned left onto Magazine, the red light stayed red, while the green light turned on. Should I stay or should I go rendered in color. They flickered for a few moments and then died altogether, worn out with the effort of having to decide on a course of action. On Julia Street, a traffic light was knocked down and continued to turn red and green, lying on it's side in the gutter. Gallantry personified.

Amazing the effect of a pair of pink Wellington boots has on the mind during a rainstorm.

Fast changes are coming. I am restless and apathetic, rootless and weighed down at the same time.

Every night when I drive home at around 11:30, there is a slightly built man in shorts and a t-shirt standing on the corner of Jefferson and Magazine, talking on the pay phone. Every night. I wonder, does he always talk to the same person?

Justin has been selected to fall off a two storey building after fighting Porthos. He plummets headfirst and then twists to land on his back. I imagine him landing shaped like a starfish with a gentle 'poof' and a small cloud of dust, like Wile E. Coyote.

This is not much of an entry, but at least you know I'm here.

Strange few days. In the past week, I have become a model, I have not become a stock broker, and I have been flirted by a marine, a man with three children and the schizophrenic son of a local millionaire. A piano whistled at me and I danced down the Avenue of the Oak Alley Plantation in a wedding dress and a tiara a few days before we discussed why I am not loved.

The symmetry of Sam and Stina getting engaged at the same time.

I remember the day I went out for coffee with Feurey and he told me his father had died. The helplessness is wretched. If I could I would fly there and know what to do. I've never been good with distance. I shan't ever meet Sandra.

We do what we can in the time that we have.

Your Moment of Americana:

Me, driving a stick-shift car from the beaches of Alabama to New Orleans, listening to Lynrd Skynrd, wearing blue jeans and a red bikini halter top. I'd much rather be in a navy-blue wool coat under a grey sky day, because that is how I feel most comfortable, but it feels so good to try on someone else's skin and realize that it's your own.

Tonight I'm suffused with longing. Where are you? I need you. I'll be over it tomorrow. What good is this without you?

The things that are not worth posting because people will wonder and worry and bother you about them later. Don't; it's just Late At Night In New Orleans hitting me hard and laying me low. The heat leaves me without ambition and incapable of any emotion but desire and nostalgia.

The smartest thing I've heard in days, courtesy of Willie Nelson: "It's not pre-marital sex unless you get married." Well, that's a load off my mind.

It has gotten too hot and so I will have to suspend all of your visits for the rest of the summer. Yes, I know, you were all clamouring and fighting to come over and see me, but you will just have to be patient. My apartment is very warm and I don't think your delicate Northeastern bodies can handle it.

Over the past couple of days I have been asked if a) I know how to type, and b) if I would be interested in Management. To both these questions I answered honestly and resoundingly "No." It wasn't until later that I realised I was being considered for jobs. From now on my motto will be, "When someone asks you 'Are you a god? you say 'Yes!'"

Was anyone else wondering about the literal definition of "irony"? Here it is:

1. An expression or utterance marked by a deliberate contrast between apparent and intended meaning

2. Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.

Tonight at work, a mildly tipsy man named Hank told me that I look "Biblical". The Woody Allen in me thought..."What are you saying? Anti-Semite!" But the Woman in me found it original, charming, and evocative of Rebekah by the well and Bathsheba and Jezebel (my favourite) and camels and crescent moons and palms. I'm saving that up.