On the Prowl

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Secret Agent Fred and I walking down Market Street in the Castro, talking the talk: “Nice people call it anal rape….”  What do people overhearing us think?  One wonders.

Fred and I have re-entered the world of The Rock n Roll Lifestyle, which is pretty fabulous, but difficult to accomplish anything in.  I stayed more or less in bed for 20 hours a day for several days over the last weekend, fending off all sorts of attempts to lure me out.  When I finally turned to on Tuesday, I had an astonishing stack of emails and stuff to deal with.  I had seen something from my tax guy that was something about filing an extension.  When I got around to opening the attachment, it turned out I needed to cough up $3,000 to the state by April 15, which was that day.  Luckily I was able to stop squealing long enough to notice I could do it online, and I did.

Fred and I did manage a very productive day last week.  We went out decorating shopping, looking at tile for the bathrooms in New Orleans and then couches.  Tiles were a big success, couches less so.  When did Room and Board turn into an expensive version of Ikea?  The only couch they had that I liked was the one we already have here, and I’m very conscious of the fact I seem to be replicating my house here at the one in New Orleans already, so no.

We also hit a sort of antique mall and found a lovely little orange lamp and then a weird gallery where I found a lithograph we’re both wild about.

When I got them home, I realized they’re perfect in the living room here, goddamit.  This happens a lot, I try to pay attention to the New Orleans house and suddenly I’m redecorating San Francisco.  So very not productive, but now I have lovely addition to my living room.

7 responses »

  1. Love your new lithograph, and deeply understand your predicament. I've learned that no matter my intentions, all the spaces I decorate end up looking more or less the same. “This time,” we'll agree, “we'll end up with something different – clean lines and bright colors and….”

    And what we end up with looks more or less exactly my grandmother's living room, if she'd had a really queeny Gay Best Friend. Some things you just have to accept, and if in the end it means you have the same couch on two coasts, well, at least you know you have consistent tastes…

    Like

  2. Exactly. At least I have learned I simply don't have Quiet Good Taste or Chilly Minimalism because the siren lure of turquoise and tangerine and hot pink just will not be denied.

    Like

  3. Honey, you were on Market in the Castro; no one thought anything other than “Oh, yeah, that old conversation. . .”

    And it is a fab print! Can't wait to see it!

    Like

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