[for May 20] I’m not sure there’s a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than at the ball park, drinking pinot grigio, munching on barbecue nachos, and then going home and passing out on the couch. I’d forgotten how much I love baseball. I used to be positively obsessed with it, which may shock those who are familiar with my current attitude toward sports. As a tween and teen, I subscribed to Baseball Weekly…
I live near a Catholic school, which has a little grotto out in the courtyard. I never see any kids hanging around it. [Insert clumsy religion-related segue here.] I’m reading Christopher Hitchens’ God Is Not Great, a rambly manifesto on the ways in which all religion — from arbitrary, black-cat superstitionist spirituality to Christianity to Islam — makes people think and do outrageous and harmful things in the name of pleasing/impressing/sating the sky fairy of…
It’s not spelled right, but I’d chuckle to myself each time I got to tell someone my address. Project 365
[for May 12] Please ignore the decorative bird poo on the window. If only my driver’s side window rolled down, I could take less disgusting “Oh-crap-I-need-a-picture-today!” photos out my window. Project 365
Raiford’s Hollywood is closing. Again and again people keep saying this is the end of an era. I can’t really speak to that, as I’ve not been in Memphis long enough to talk about eras, but I do know that I regret not making it back to Raiford’s after my initial visit soon after I first moved here. (I can’t find the effing post about it, but it’s an emotional mess. That I remember. Yikes,…
Another gorgeous day in the Dirty South. The sunburn has turned brown in all but a few places. My ears have stopped peeling. Life makes no fucking sense, but it’s good. Project 365
I’m not sure what these flowers are called but they smell amazing. At first I thought Gestures was burning some candles whose scents seeped out of the doors. Turns out it was all nature, baby. It was a beautiful day to spend downtown, traipsing up and down South Main with the fabulously pseudonymous FearlessVK, taking care of some crucial business and stuffing our faces with greasy, overpriced Arcade food. Tomorrow night’s the monthly art trolley…
I’m on fire. My arms are a sickening shade of deepening pink. They throb with life, with blood, with heat. Ha, sorry. That was starting to sound like crappy internet poetry, and I’ve sworn off that for a while. What I’m trying to say is that I got a heaping helping of UV radiation today, and that my idiot ass didn’t even apply sunblock until I’d been outside in a tank top for three hours.…
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