Cape Cod's Revenge

I recently took a vacation to the lovely, overpriced and often under-estimated tip of Massachusetts that is Cape Cod. Or as us regional types like to call it "The Cape." I have some vague memories of visiting the Cape as a little girl, (my dad in his yellow,70's swimming trunks that she still has!) As an adult, however, this was my fourth time down there. And was it ever!

If this were seven years ago, I would be recanting the tale of me, my friends Larry and Heather, holding fort in the tiniest hotel room in the world in Wellfleet, when I foolishly misinterpreted "two, twin beds" over the phone to be "two, large beds." They were not LARGE. They were little, kid beds and I ended up on the floor, which was fine, for a little while. I bitched about it seven years ago, but it actually was one of the most memorable experiences of my life. Those and the NYC trips, even with all the little glitches: TIME OF MY LIFE. Anyway, here are some photos from that time:





p.s. Jimmy James really is one of the only real reasons to ever see drag, especially in P-town. Check him out.


Nextly, I went to Falmouth in 2008 for business, not for pleasure, but I did slip away to Martha's Vineyard for the first time ever on a quest to figure out what all the squawking was about. My friend Annie and I found an utterly fantastic restaurant/jazz bar in Falmouth called the Nimrod.

The food was divine and I found myself in a fugue state trying to get out the door because this man launched into Ella's "Black Coffee", then Tom Waites' "Time, then Ann Ronnell's "Willow Weep for Me". What?? Got to chatting with this wife, turned out he was a big jazz guy in Boston. Really neat. And there is an actual Cannonball hole in there from the War of 1812. This kind of stuff gets my knickers all in a super-twist. Here are some photos from THAT trip (and yes, there are SHEEP on Martha's Vineyard!):








So now we come to my latest trip: "The Mom and Daughter Bonder". Curse you, Hollywood. Curse you to hell. It's so funny how much I am after my Mom's own heart, but yet how much different we are in almost all respects. I know, it's kind of hard to understand unless you're a daughter. We had a great time, but the hotel situation, early August with all the local travelers was very dicey. The first night we had an almost picture-perfect room right on the beach, dude! We toasted our mini-vaca with some low-cal, lime beer. Heaven. But the owner didn't say (and I neglected to ask) what floor the room was on. Well, it was up about two and a half flights and I have a senior dog. Not a good combo. By the end of the night, I had a fierce crick in my neck from helping her up and down stairs. But we knew that they had promised us a room in the main house-lower floor the next night, right? NOPE. Because of the glitch, the lovely woman at the place dialed like crazy to find us a pet-friendly room. Not much luck, peak season. So that morning was spent driving around in 90 degree heat feverishly trying to find an ocean-front, bottom floor dwelling, preferably without pee smell or bed bugs or serial rapists in Dennis, MA. Wasn't happening. We started bickering the way Mother's and Daughters do. You know, like you're about an foot away from ripping off some shoulder pads with your Lee Press-on nails. Okay well, not THAT bad, but bad enough to feel like I was reverting to adolescence a little. We ended up at a wonderful Best Western in Yarmouth that catered to dogs. No joke. They had dog books, doggie beds, doggie cd's, dvds, elevated bowls and best of all, A/C. A real pooch heaven, except we weren't near the beach. Actually, this place was on a Golf Course. But hey, give and take. I went for a beautiful swim, took photos, wrote and my Mom went on her quest for Steamers and a beach. I was perfectly content being alone. My mom's not as much of a loner-type as me, but she managed, came back with a stomach ache from a hot dog (she couldn't find the steamer place).

So later on that night, feeling fully refreshed, I pretended I had to go to the store, game back with 22 oz. of the best fat, full bellies this side of the Atlantic I ended up eating most of 'em, thinking, damn, when I was a kid these things grossed the hell out of me. Like ick, look at 'em. They're like slimy, sea-sects, just a neck and a belly, all green and rubbery. Just goes to show, butter makes everything taste good. That Paula cook-lady is onto something.

So some things do change, some do stay the same, but if it's ALL the same, I'll stick to a Mom and Daughter Clam DINNER bonder next time....;)

Dolls

They creep me out and I don't know why. Well, I guess I have an inkling.

I think it's because I watched that movie "Dolls" in 1987.

I was still kinda little.

You know what that movie did to my doll collection?

Made it a living hell.

The only doll I have ever liked/loved was my Raggedy Ann from 1978.

She was a birthday present. She's still around today, but some of her fluff came out when she sprung a leak in the crotch while moving from college. Me, not her. Okay "Us". Jesus.

So my grandmother sewed her up.

I can't make this shit up.

She did.

And we will sometimes joke that it now looks like Raggedy Anne is..well, a real woman now.


Hey, what can I say? I wasn't allowed to hand-pick my DNA.

And you have to admit, that IS kinda funny.

But back to creepy dolls.

Apparently, there is a Doll Hospital in Texas.

Dolls and Texas paired together is super-creeepy.

Texas has the highest rate of execution in the country.
As of last year, more than 60 percent of all American executions took place in Texas.

But it seems the Houston area (enough said) holds claim to this now famous Doll Hospital where the Doll Doctor performs "complete Doll Repair".

And they don't want photos of your Doll's ailments. They want to examine your doll upclose and in person, by their DOCTOR. Doctor Mary Ann.

In order for us to be able to identify your doll's specific problems, it is important that Dr. Mary Ann be able to examine him or her thoroughly.

Either bring your doll in, or ship him or her to us via Postal Services or UPS.

Upon your doll's arrival we will do a complete examination and discuss with you, either in person or by phone, what type of care your doll will require.

An estimate of cost will be given at that time.

Please send your doll complete with clothing and accessories if available.

I guess some people's dolls are like family to them. Sort of like Norman Bates' taxidermied birds were to him.

There was also that infamous movie "Valley of the Dolls" with Sharon Tate which I still cannot watch. I don't even think there are any actual dolls in that film, but you get the point.

I guess it's just fair to say anything associated with Dolls is an automatic rule-out for me. Clowns too, ever since that one dropped out of the ceiling with a fake knife at the Haunted Mansion. The three of us just all fell on the floor...trying to comfort each other.

Thanks guy.

Checking in with my blog

My blog is bigger than yours.
My blog is blogging on the nightly with your blogfriend.
Fucking blog.

This brought the LOL's ...from Ajax

I can’t even keep going with this, it’s simply too painful. At this point, let’s try an experiment. Go up to the next female stranger you see and tell her that her body is a wonderland. My hypothesis is that she’ll be too busy laughing at you to even bother slapping you. davidthorpe@somethingawful.com. Dr. David Thorpe

Robert Pattinson vs. Daniel Radcliffe (7/16/09)

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It's been absent for some time now.

The way that satellite follows her into the shadows,
reminder of how frightening it can be to walk alone.

Underneath a tar-topped lifestyle, there a million cricket's shiny legs
squawking together,
and then there is the burdock and dandelion,
She eats. She rests and changes.

He wants the mystery woman,
who plays by the rules of the Game.
Yet she likes to know all the rules before she breaks them,
but this one wants to break her.
In.

But, she's already picking up pieces under its glint.

Overcome any bitterness that may have come.....

" Overcome any bitterness that may have come because you were not up to the magnitude of pain that was entrusted to you. Like the mother of the world who carries the pain of the world in her heart, each one of us is part of her heart, and therefore endowed with a certain measure of cosmic pain. You are sharing in the totality of that pain. You are called upon to meet it in joy instead of self pity. "
- Pir Vilayat Khan


They say a wise man admits he knows nothing.
Yet I yearn for Your answer

In that deep, mysterious limbo of in-between,
where Divine Order rules the day,
and ego concocts it's own explanation

A continual recap of each other's Acts
in a never-ending, one-act play of unrelenting fascination

Mysteries prevail in mourning,
rides on trails of waking eyes, black spots floating,
a vulnerable gut,
so distrusting.

With foolish disguise, I mask Its eyes
and demand just payment
for the bill Suffering has obliged.
Yet, It offers nothing.

No gesture of solvency,
nor illusory concilation,
just a continuity of unknown tones,
some sharp, some flat,
some dissonant, some jarring.

Until I decide to remember
that It comes when It comes
{-au moyen, je ne sais pas}---
by way of means I know not of.

In two Bars2,
songs blared from cars,
in missed connections
and meteor showers....

Divine Order.

Love's guitar,
indelibly plucks my joyfull heart.
Reverberance of an unknown part
No time signature, nor visible pattern,
no measured beats nor counted hours

Accept a kiss,
a hug,
a touch,
So extraordinary,
Transfixed in time that
will not judge. Accept.

Some feeling or moment,
no tangible meaning
shakes the ground and sends me flying
forces languages' tongue
into deep silence

In Stillness.

I sit.
Honoring the brightness
In all of It.
not to release sacred steam
in mouth's futile spit

The beautiful debris,
of everything and nothing,
The Chaos and the Love,
each other's counterparts

Because I know nothing.
And so shall ask again.
And if next answer, subterranean quakes
I'll brace each leg in any fissure
brave it's wrath,
again gain leverage

Wind strikes my face,
from hard disaster
From Suffering to Grace
new mediums for masters

of their own hearts,
broken down,
and broken open
in equal parts,

pain and pleasure
Spirit Still, Body Trembling,
Spirit still,
unrelenting.