Sunday, August 14, 2011

Back in the Saddle

OK, I'm just going to dive in and pretend like I haven't been ignoring my blog for two weeks because no one is interested in to listening bloggers explain how they are just too darn busy to keep up. Life too much for you? What are you, a combination astronaut/brain surgeon? If you're that important why do you have a blog? Obviously, I'm just a lazy pig.

My dear friend Rich from New Orleans (aka Magda) was in town the last week of July which was terribly amusing and good for me. We did pretty much nothing and it was fabulous to be reminded how solid friends we are, and why. We found the perfect little table for my front hall in a consignment store for $180 and when they wouldn't come down to $150, I walked out. Magda patiently encouraged me to rethink the situation and the values inherent in it. Actually, what he said was "Queen. Are you going to pass up that table for thirty bucks? Shut up and get back in there." I am immensely glad I did so and publicly thank Magda for his sensible advice.


I spent the entire day yesterday watching a Hoarders marathon on some cable channel's whose motto should be "We Waste Your Time for You." I'd never been able to stick out more than the first 60 seconds of these monuments to civilization because I always thought I was too delicate to watch more than that much of the filth festivals. Turns out I'm tougher than I thought; how comforting.

Hoarders is an excuseless revel in the fortunes of troubled individuals who cannot bring themselves to let go of a single piece of the flotsam and jetsam in their lives. These sad, sad creatures (or, as I like to think of them, "freakydirtycreepylosers") exist in a bubble of denial. Look, if moving through your home requires you to climb over a moraine of empty gatorade bottles and old pizza boxes and if you cannot access your toilet for the vast collection of stuffed poodles you have dragged home from the thrift stores, do you really think all systems are go in your sweet little life? These shows are just the latest in a series of entertainment monuments (Design Star is another) that cause me to shriek at the television. This alarms Saki and makes me wonder if maybe the participants are any worse off than I am, carrying on a one-way conversation with household appliances.

I am also finishing up a 10 volume series of science fiction novels by Lois McMaster Bujold that center on a terribly amusing character named Miles Vorkosigan. If you like sci fi, you should give them a try. The conceit of a one character in this many settings allowed Bujold to study fantasy writing through the lens of different genres like hard-boiled detective noir, and regency romance, and whodunits. Thumbs up.

Also, houseboy booty:

15 comments:

  1. I can never watch those hoarding shows, they are disgusting. I especially hate when they have young kids living in the home and I always hope that social services have intervened after the show aired.

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  2. I watch them for you. I'm pretty sure any kid stuck in these squalid hell-holes should have child protective services on speed dial.

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  3. Oh I love what you have done with the place!

    I thank you for sparing me the horror in watching shows like that. I am fortunate in that cameras would be lucky to find their way in here trough the piles of fabric, pattern drafts and cotton spools!

    Your friend was wise to assist in changing your mind!

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  4. well, doesn't it look nice up here...and there too!


    Oh, and "Queen Anne"!
    I suppose those are the magic words to make you give in, aren't they?

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  5. Hoarders?
    Honey.
    No.
    Watching them is almost like being one of them.

    Loving the new table.

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  6. "We Waste Your Time for You"


    someone should pay you for this slogan.

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  7. no one is interested in to listening bloggers explain how they are just too darn busy to keep up

    Oh dear…surely you’re talking about me.

    But aside from that...

    I just read a book entitled Stuff: Compulsive Hoarding and the Meaning of Things.

    It sheds light and offers theories on why hoarders are the way they are yet I still find myself agreeing with you and thinking, “"freakydirtycreepylosers!”

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  8. Well, thank god you're back. I was just thinking an intervention was in order.

    And you know that ten seconds of Hoarders did me in. I'll try to chalk it up to your not having your kitchen available and won't worry. Too much.

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  9. Darling, your entry way looks marvelous. Of course!

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  10. Thank Magda you got that table! It looks wonderful there.
    As for reality television - my life is plenty real enough. A show like Hoarders would just tip me over the edge....

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  11. As soon as I saw this episode's title, I was sure either you were channeling the spirit of Dale Evans, or that there would be a houseboy in it. Except I thought the houseboy would appear in a little video with you. You, of course, costumed in a cowboy hat, mask, and spurs shouting "Hi, ho, houseboy, away!"

    The entry way is lovely, but perhaps too dark to show off all of the table's beauty. After all, it looks like Morticia Addams could hide in plain sight just by standing still in there. . .and if she is, we're nominating YOU to be the next "featured guest" on Hoarders!

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  12. Forgot to mention, I LOVE the new header!

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  13. I too love the new header, and welcome you back, dear Mr. P. I missed you.

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  14. I love the remodel! And I so envy your that you have a foyer that you can paint black. Sugar!

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  15. Nice table...

    Miss J has a hoarder on her street. Their, um, collection reaches all the way onto the front porch and is starting to spill onto the front lawn. Its kinda sad... and probably infuriating for the next-door neighbor.

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