August 2006 Archives

A year after Katrina

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It's the new year - i.e. 1 A.K. (After Katrina). Traffic lights are still broken, the streetcar is still sleeping, and potholes are sprouting like mushrooms in the crumbling streets. But there is progress - massive amounts of progress - and I suppose that's where the momentum should be. Everyone's frustrated with where we are a year later, everyone's fed up with higher insurance premiums, higher rental/real estate prices, fewer flights from and to the airport, and everyone's wondering where the hell all that money went.

But - I still love this place. I'm sick of feeling geographically retarded and getting wrinkled eyebrows from relatives and friends who live in cities that work. Yeah, yeah, things still suck in New Orleans. But last night I danced in the streets in a second-line birthday parade through the Tremé neighborhood. I can't do that in Austin. Or New York. Or Seattle. Those are places where I can't get a decent po-boy, or meet such friendly strangers, or take my champagne out of the bar and sip it on my bicycle ride home. And countless other quirky things from beignets to zoo exhibits that feature recipes for cooking the animal you're looking at.

There's a LOT to be said for cities that work - cities with a functioning sewer system, a non-bankrupt utility/energy company, few potholes, good air quality, more than one hospital in the central metro area. I really want to live in a city that works, and I hope New Orleans gets a few kinks sorted out in the year 1 A.K. It better start looking up soon, for the sake of all the broken hearts that call New Orleans home.

Am I the only one who thinks Oral B needs to jump on this whole liquids/gel/toothpaste ban on airplanes and resurrect the totally weird but now totally necessary Brush Ups*? You know, those weird little sleeves of pre-moistened toothpaste fabric that you slipped over your finger and then "brushed" your teeth with your finger and made yourself believe that you don't have hummus breath any more. They could make a total killing. I regarded Brush Ups like I did Craisins - a lovely idea, but dammit, where's the zing? Craisins need a commercial with dancing California Craisins that get in a celebrity death match with the California Raisins. I can see the storyboards now. And the cocktail recipes. Brush Ups needs a campaign that taps into our collective fears of halitosis. I'm thinking a narrative-type campaign with love connections made possibly by the convenience of spontaneous finger-brushing. It's not just the hummus breath. It's the veneer of confidence you get when you think you don't have hummus breath! Thank you, Brush Ups!

* I can't find them anywhere I've looked around here, but maybe they still exist in your local stores.

Liquid liquidation

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Oh, the joys of air travel. I will get to enjoy the newly retarded airline 'safety' measures this weekend as I travel to Washington DC. Checking my bag goes against everything I believe in as a traveling human American being, because I don't trust baggage handlers (no offense if you are one, it's not personal). I. Don't. Check. Bags. But after a quick inventory of my toiletries this morning, I realized I am a complete girly girl in the liquid beauty/hair products department, and there's just no getting around it. I am at the mercy of Aveda and my addiction to Volumizing Hair Tonic (among other things) is forcing me, against my belief system, to hand over my belongings to perfect strangers who do not understand the importance of Aveda Detailing Mist-Wax.

If they lose my bag so help me god, I will go to Customer Service with my bad breath (no toothpaste!) and bad hair (no Aveda!) and I will sit on someone's head until I get a free flight, or my bag, whichever comes first.

Affirming yourself through plastic wrap

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I have owned this roll of plastic wrap for about 3-4 years. The same roll. Not an economy-sized roll, mind you, but a garden-variety roll from Target. It's not that I don't believe in preserving things. And I hate it when uncovered food absorbs refrigerator smells. I just think plastic wrap is a big freaking joke. Unless you're covering things 3-4 times and draping a little Saran quilt over your chicken quesadilla, I think plastic wrap is really about making you feel better about yourself. Because you've made the effort of preservation. You've proven your thriftiness - hey, I'm going to pay for this once, but eat it more than once! I am soooo smart! And in spite of the infuriating self-clinging-sticky battle you have to fight every time you use the stuff, you think, hey, at least I'm investing in my future here. That's really what plastic wrap is all about: it's a little nod towards the good times (and chicken quesadillas) to come.

Linky love

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This page is an archive of entries from August 2006 listed from newest to oldest.

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