Doing My Hair At 3AM

well, it’s nice and peaceful and I can listen to my college radio music station that plays what I love, and the hell with the rest.
After hair is done, it’s time for Mickey & Mallory.
Oh, they are playing “I Had Too Much To Dream Last Night”
Rock on! I’m going be my horrible self and like or lump it, that’s the way it’s going be now. Maybe even go back to being a cocktail waitress. Shame I don’t drink anymore,, but think of the movie like quality – surreal from a distance.
Or it could be Holly Golightly.

Someone To Watch Over Me

You all know who you are.

I love each and everyone of you…that dream in SF which I’ll never know the end of. It envelopes me at times I cannot guess why. Left my heart in San Francisco so true.
Birthdays & Christmas.
School projects brought home with love.
Kitty love.
Sunrises.
Waking up next to you in a pure moment, cursed to disappear. I see signs about me, but don’t know what to do …and thinking about you more than I can control.

Well, there it is. Surprise me, come to me with a kiss.

Happy New Year!

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Okay, I am a tad bit early, but this year has been hell and blue murder all ways round.
So, here are my resolutions and thanks.

I am thankful that I did not die from pneumonia. Beyond words.
I am thankful for my dearest Aunt Ann – a voice of reason and love in this miasma of the past year’s events.
I am thankful my Sean is alive and in one piece having moved out of Pasadena barely before the horrible destruction of the Santa Ana wind recently.
I am thankful that Miss Violet is one tough cookie, a real “dame”, who has faced the opponent and is winning.

My New Years resolution is to return to myself and enjoy each day instead of marking time. And hoping I can do all the things I want to, and leave the past behind where it belongs

I wish each and everyone love, happiness, and the strength plus direction to achieve their goals as well.

I love you all.

Oh yeah, and world peace at least to some degree.

Love, hugs, & kisses to all in 2012!

I Dreamed of Robert Di Niro

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I woke up this morning after dreaming of above mentioned person.
I think this was because when we lived in NY, my father worked for a frame maker (Ashby) on 18 Cornelia St. It was a large studio area with frames displayed above along the walls. My father, Willliam, made the frames with gold leaf and varnish, something I have learned, yet haven’t used. Robert Di Niro Sr. and his son Robert used to come in for frames and supplies – they’d all chat. There was a wood burning stove in the middle of the room and it could get rather cold in there. I remember occasional visits there – Ashby was a Mormon from out West somewhere and when I lived in NY, I’d visit. The smell was like a strange perfume of turpertine, shellac, oils, raw canvas.

Once I took a friend of mine in there and they were quite impressed, it being in Little Italy and them being Italian, Ralph appreciated the place and talking. Plus eating in the neighborhood was just perfect – long before it had been revamped into parvaneau esoterica.

I miss New York’s energy. It’s been a while since I’ve been back, but a trip is in the air I feel.

Anyway, that’s my story and my father’s, who along with my mother used to paint and then sell them in the outdoor show for us to go spend a few months in France every year. My father is gone to that painting space in Heaven, but Natalie is still around.And painting.

I wish you all a wonderful New Year!

Dance Faster and Hang On

To clip a quote: the future’s uncertain and the end is always near. This neatly covers my alleged last Saturn return in which one gets one final chance to make it right. It’s energy is electric, unending, terrifying in choice and let’s just fall down that rabbit hole and see whose there waiting.
I have been traveling, re-enacting a precursor to this current life, which has begun to crack off in pieces visible only to me. If I take it at face value, it’s a rerun of another time and place. Or to put it plain, another door to choose and go through.

Seeking counsel is futile as the other shoe has yet to drop. Needless to say, it has left me frantically trying to remember what I forgot to see the last time. Throwing the cards has been futile, due to the sychronicity factor.

Who will show up? Who will stay and who will go? Overwhelming it is and the map flew out the window with a vengeance. I will embrace this energy all the while mindful of the past and my unerring sense of misdirection.

Fog of The Spirits.

Of which I am in one. Seriously. Just open the door, walk outside, and find yourself enveloped in mist, swirling about. You can hear the squeaking of the rats now and then.

This is not the worst place I have ever lived, but it is the most boringly lacking in anything. Unless, of course you are ….oh never mind.

Watched “Death Wish” tonight and got to see my father and his friend Eugene in a couple of scenes. At least then he isn’t gone to me as he is in reality.I miss him more than words can express.

And I have too much to do and not enough miles to do it in.

What Perfume Does Sophia Loren Wear?

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Ok, I’m laate. For everything. Big Deal. Answer the question in the title.
I’ve decided that since I been ill since June (not as ill as some but a real chinese horror movie). Pills that don’t work, pills that sort of work, and now the latest round of antibiotics for my tired dustbowl worn out mother self.

So, to detour from the boredom, I have decided to channel the spirit of Sophia Loren. Great look, great movies, molto bella!
My hair is back to its original brunette and has grown out enough for me to go mad with hot rollers and hair spray, a most probable fatal combination, but at this point I just don’t give a shit. It’s that tricky eyeliner I must master.
Being less than stellar in feeling like doing anything but sleep, and then go back to sleep because I am so tired from sleeping.
Need: black slips, shoes of doom, and a full on Anna Magniani attitude. I love her comment about ageing: ” I will never have plastic surgery – I earned all these lines!!”.
THAT’S the attitude I must remember.

And she always carries something red (read her book) because she believes in magic.  Ms. Loren I am referring to.

Now to practice eye makeup in bed – it’s all I can muster right now. Maybe drawing a new beige mouth.  And look for a nice loud perfume.

 

 

Ciao, bella.

Merci Buttercup

Miss Tsunami would like to thank Violet for her kind referral to Etsy. That blonde fairy wig is calling my name as my hair is very very angry with me lately.

Applause for Miss Violet for her kind ways and unswerving sense of style & decorum.

And for being the toughest, yet gentle, smart cookie I have had the great grace  to meet. Keep on keeping on, sister!

Rip Her To Shreds

I was remembering when my friends Lois, Maureen, & I would go downtown to CBGB’S, Maxs ,(which was a ongoing joke) Mudd Club, etc. Being in the Bowery reminded me of the story my sainted irish grandmother who hated everything and everyone used to tell about her brother, Willy, who died freezing to death in the doorway of a bar on New Year’s Eve in the 1930’s. We’d get dressed up, organize, and just go to see what was floating around. You name it, it was there. Now Maureen is long dead and Lois long unknown and Miss Tsunami is getting ready to reenact circumstances similar.

I love NY – it’s when I’m from, although I think they are putting something in the water to make every one look and act as though they escaped from an LLBeen catalogue. Pun intended. Regretfully, I moved out to the Hotel California a long time ago, but city streets now call me loud and clear. My answer is to return from whence I came – let the chips fall where they may. After all, NYC had “bag ladies” before it became a national crisis. Sleeping over the heating grates at Macy’s and you’d see one shoe in the street on a meridian. Could never figure out why just one shoe, but it is part of the fabric that holds the place together. Friday afternoons after work, there’d be guys selling flowers by the subway entrances. Poignantly resourceful.

When I was married to Harry Ratfuk, he warned me of the many dangers waiting for me outside. He didn’t know I’d had my first nervous breakdown at Simon Baruch High School when I just left and walked across Second Avenue hoping a car would take me out. One day I went out got out the first bus I saw which let me off at the Staten Island Ferry terminal.Rode it back and forth all day, just staring at the Statue of Liberty, imagining all who sailed into New York Harbor, reading Emma Lazarus’s words. How many of them made it and how many did not. My family did, immigrating from Northern Ireland (Black Irish= dark hair/blue eyes) in the mid 1800’s ins steerage class. A great uncle choked to death and died at the dinner meal. He was buried at sea. The rest made it to New York and never left.

They lived on 57th street before it became fashionable. Stories of babies falling off fire escapes in the summer, the hurdy gurdy man playing “In The Streets of Old New York”. My great grandfather was a gateman (he’d open and close the gates so people could board the El) for the third Avenue el. He slipped on ice one winter day and died the next. My great grandmother Bridget went to work washing floors, and dying her hair black so she could get work. All the children lived at home until they got married. And turned over their paychecks to her each week regular.

When she died in the mid 1930’s, all that floor washing had netted her excellent stock tips. She was living at 94th & Riverside Drive, and left a hefty inheritance behind.Her daughter, my grandmother married my grandfather(born in Abilene TX in 1892) in Dallas – he was mustered out of the Navy at the end of  WW1 and she left on a train from NY, not knowing her mother had hired a private eye to follow her and make sure all went well. My grandfather won their house in a poker game. and in another game, won their funeral plots.

I went to NY to live with and marry some one generation off the boat SOB. My grandmother had thrown him off the porch when I was younger and more trusting – she was right. It didn’t last long, just enough to get him out of dental school and graduated, then I was “deleted”. A deal with the devil is exactly that.

So, now it’s time to move on. I’ll keep you posted along the way.

The American Dream was built by those who came so long ago. Who loved and appreciated this country for what it was able to give them. Let’s give it a whirl again.

“(hurdy gurdy music (look it up!) playing…”When Mamie O’Rourke and I danced on the sreets of  old New York…”  For my father, William, with much love and appreciation.

Brass Tacks And Gilded Chaise Lounges

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It is nice and overcast today which suits me just fine. All this sunshine nonsense wears thin somedays.
Thinner than the gold on a 10$ wedding ring..

Am in the process of slowly, oh so slowly rearranging the garden for fall. While on my trip, doorstop roommate did not water my irises. Well, at least the bulbs are salvagable. the ferns which I love for their willdness and remembrances of childhood memories – ask me about “snark” hunting a la my cousins who thought this was hilarious to pull on a city kid when I was 13 need to be trimmed, which I hate to do but they will grab you by the ankles now and the complaint dept is open about this regularly. MAYBE I’ll trim them instead.
There are 2 maybe 3 rules in life that are unchangeable I’ve found.
They are as follows:
1. Friends who volunteer to water your plants, take care of your beloved pets, etc. NO. The idea is great at the moment, but when you come home after a lovely vacation or visit and walk into a night even Roger Corman could not imagine, suddenly you will find yourself reaching for their throat due to their innate lack of knowing how to remember to water plants, feed the animals. You know what I mean.

2. Carry a compass and a map in your car. Rely on good old fashioned hard knowledge. DO not talk to strangers or pick up hitchhikers unless they are a lost cat named Fluffums. I’m a cat person, but will help out a D-O-G if needed. But it had better be a little dog. OK, golden retriever. Sigh.

3. Shred everything unneeded. Use the fireplace to finish the job. Always keep at least 100 candles and matches handy in case of hurricane or power outage. If you smell gas, go outside and use your phone to call the gas company pronto.

And, always, eat when you’re hungry, sleep when you’re tired, and keep love close to your heart and soul. It pays off in ways you can’t understand.

And to Violet, who glimmers in the moonlights, overpowering the sun with her being, love and thanks for being there that night and always. Back on your tootsies you will be.

Now go put on some perfume, and conquer the world.