Three less eggs to fry

I probably shouldn't post this for the preverts of the world to read, but the f recently departed for Europe for an unspecified amount of time. So far since he's been gone, I'ts been a pretty action-packed couple of days. I've been hit on by a stranger, cowered in fear at a potential home invasion, gone on an unintentional shopping spree, and gotten almost no writing done. Sorry, feminism, sometimes I can be such an unproductive girly girl.

So on Friday, between errands, I was standing in front of Piccadilly typing into my phone's notepad, about to peek inside to see what terrible dishes this buffet-style chain had in the offering, just out of morbid curiosity.

"Excuse me, I saw you walking back there and wanted to say you're very attractive."
Well, I'll be! Haven't had this happen in quite a while. I've never been the best at brushing off suitors and crazies quickly because I don't want to be mean (often, of course, with hilarious results), but for the first time ever, I could flash my special "go away" ring; it's like a secret decoder ring, only the superpower is "go away." Just what I've always needed!
"Oh, I see you have a ring on, does that mean you're taken?"
Ya think? "Yes, I'm engaged." 
"Really? How long?"
Wait, really? The ring doesn't vanquish the potential suitor right away? I still have to make awkward conversation with a stranger? I briefly wondered what length of engagement would mean to him that he could still pursue me. Like if it was very recent maybe he thought he could still try? Then I realized he probably felt embarrassed and was just making convo as he made his exit.

Then I wondered, what about my running-errands slobola appearance had he found attractive? My eyeglasses-with-hair-twisted-up-in-a-clip-and-no-makeup combo? My Stereolab T-shirt? (He didn't look like an indie rocker, and no indie rocker I knew would ever approach someone on the street to ask them out.) Was it my clam-diggers in the one size up from what I used to be when I lived in New York, because most of my other pants and shorts have mysteriously shrunk on their own? Was it simply that I was female, and standing in place?

It's nice to be noticed, when I'm feeling far from peak attractiveness, but now it also fills me with suspicion.

*

Early Saturday morning, I was rudely awakened at 2:30 am by someone pounding on the front door. Did I answer it? Oh hell no. I was too scared to even leave the bed. But Cooper barked his head off, and when he tried to come back to me to make sure I was OK, I kept sending him back out to bark. He was my only defense. And for once I was grateful for the chorus of neighborhood dogs working each other up into a frenzy. A few heart-pounding minutes later, I heard the knocking a few houses up the street.

But that wasn't the end of it on my end. I suddenly felt so vulnerable. Maybe I should have made a purchase in Cabela's gun department after all, at least the pink bb gun. Whomever that was should have gotten some buckshot up the arse. Because how dare they come pounding on my door at 2:30 am? (The South also wants you to become a Southerner.) Who do I call or text in this situation? My West Coast friends might be awake, but couldn't be of any help anyway. So I texted the neighbros, the only ones likely to have any insight as to who that was, and not wanting to wake up anyone myself.

The neighbros came by to make sure I was alive on Saturday morning. Then the male neighbro joked that he thought that'd be a pretty good joke to pull the first night the f was away. But they also told me that there is a crazy lady in these parts who's been known to call the locksmith to get into whatever home she decides is her own, and then she hangs out inside there til the real occupants come home. So maybe it was her. I bet she was pissed that her house decided to get such a barky dog before she tried to return "home."

Saturday became super errands and shopping spree day, to the tune of Tabby's Blues Box on WBRH. (I realize this is my third mention of Tabby Thomas in this space, but his show really is one of my favorite things about living here. It makes Saturdays more enjoyable on a regular basis, like Laura Cantrell's Radio Thrift Shop used to do on WFMU, and like Terre T's Cherry Blossom Clinic still does.)

Here are some of the revelations from the little bit of the program I caught this weekend, about Tabby, a blues man who is pushing 80: he used to smoke dope, he's illegitimate, he met Louis Armstrong without realizing he was that big of a deal at the time, and he knows the guy who sang "Boney Maroney."

I stopped in to Hobby Lobby to get eucalyptus as one of many steps to hopefully deter fleas from our yard and home naturally, and followed my nose to claim my prize. Then I followed my inner thrift sense to discover the store's clearance section. Coming from yours truly, that part is no big surprise. But because Hobby Lobby can have such weirdo stock to begin with, the clearance area held some interesting surprises, like this lonely Old New Englandah.

Nobody wants you here in the South, Old New Englandah. You are dreaming of lobstah in a land of crawfish.

Our sweet old next-door neighbors the Reeds when I was growing up were from Maine, and they had a halfway-life-sized statue in their living room like this guy here. As well as one of those organs with two rows of keys and hundreds of pedals and effects buttons. Come to think of it, our elderly neighbors across the street and on the other side of us had that kind of organ, too, but I never once heard any of them jamming out. Too bad.

Here are some Precious Moments wedding invitations that I considered getting since they were only 81 cents, but then I realized we'll probably be inviting more than 8 people to our wedding. Also, we have taste.

Finally, there was this prize--a kit to grow your own prehistoric fish! WHAT!? Prehistoric sea creatures inexplicably tickle my twisted imagination, much as gourmet cheeses do to my palate. I used to have nightmares as a young lass where it was winter and I would go peek under the cover of our pool and beneath it would be teeming with hideous prehistoric sea creatures. (This recurring dream is probably best left unanalyzed.) I could not have bought this kit fast enough, but tragically, when I looked inside to check that all the parts were there, the egg packet was missing. Maybe prehistoric fish eggs are a delicacy around here or something, like that Northern Exposure episode when the locals ate that wooly mammoth they found preserved in ice.

(I just added a deluxe Triops kit to my Amazon wish list. I've had three beers. Does this count as like, drunk-dialing prehistoric fish, or my own subconscious? The kit has a cartoon triops on the box. I'm going to call him Triopsy. This better not be a ripoff like Sea Monkeys, aka the first major disappointment of my young life.)

So after that, I purchased numerous bargains in preparation for my own upcoming travels. Later I hung out with Jonathan from Nashville and discussed hair metal while listening to my favorite cable TV music station Arena Rock, then on Sunday made what may have been my best brunch gravy yet incorporating herbs from the garden, did more yard work involving getting way too excited about a payload of naturally-occurring mulch, and had a po'boy dinner over at the neighbros'. In all, very little writing occurred other than this blog post, but it was a most enjoyable weekend.

Comments

[vl100butch]

ah Picadilly....comfort food...they acutally have some stuff they you might like there....

the closest one to me is about 370 miles away in Bristol, VA.....

as far as getting hit on....Southdown's closed on Saturday night....you'll just have to go to the Cadillac Cafe (LOL)

enjoy the journey kane....and remember it's only 103 days until LSU football returns....and i do expect you to at least stop in at our mutual friend's tailgate...

[Elizabeth]

Sea monkeys are real!!! And Picadillys is actually delicious. Seriously.

oh, and apropro of nothing, you need this: http://www.amazon.com/All-Known-Metal-Bands-Nelson/dp/1932416927

[cokane]

Butch-- It's places like Picc that are conspiring to make me wear an even bigger size pant. And I will see you at tailgating. Maybe you should shotgun a beer this time.

E- OMG! I do need that! But it's by McSweeney's?

[Amanda]

Oh, I totally had that happen to me all the time, especially at work, with the guys seeing the ring and then being all, "Oh, who's the lucky fella? How long you guys been married?", all while staring at your goodies. The only exception to that rule was the guy from Lost, who was quite embarrassed that he hadn't noticed, and that earned him bonus points for not being all letch.

[therese]

All Known Metal Bands is indeed a McSweeney's publication- I flipped through it in a bookstore the other day, and it seems to just consist of a list of names with a precious cover. Metal is not twee!!!!!!

Also, you would think the local locksmiths would be on to this crazy squatter lady.

[Elizabeth]

McSweeney's, like the Picadilly, is good and delicious.

[treerockcloud]

The South can be surprisingly and pleasantly wise sometimes...You'll need to try Picadilly on a Thursday when Henry Gray plays the piano solely at our neighborhood dilly. Consider it part of the journey. And I have never heard of that crazy lady on my side of Acadian!!

[Alison/Lilshametongue]

Piccadilly = PARADISE.

Only Waffle House can claim to be infinitely superior.

[amy]

i don't think picadilly is real food, although i was weened on it... did you ever go in? it's SO blog-able.

[alex]

Your assessment about the south resisting goal-orientation indicates you are starting to get the real picture, but you need to check yourself before wholesale dissing Piccadilly. The greens, fried catfish and the etouffe are all killer. the conveyor belt that collects your trays is worth a trip alone. Plus the live piano player at the one on gov't (if having a live piano player is not enough) is Henry Gray, who played with Howlin' Wolf back in the day.

http://www.countryroadsmagazine.com/ViewArticle.php?preview=1&articleid=187

[Beth]

Colleen-I feel ya'...I once convinced myself when I discovered that our phone line was dead that someone had cut our line. I woke my then two year old out of a dead sleep and drove to our neighbors. Being home alone is scary sometimes. Thank goodness you have Coop the wonder dog. Also I just got this great book on Compost at the library (I like it because it has pictures, science books are less scary that way). We have a pile but really it just collects our vegetables and grass. Congratulations on your yard gold.

[helene]

girl, i wouldn't have answered the door either! yikes!

drunk shopping is probably a lot like stoned shopping...
i once bought a knapsack with a glow in the dark cat on it & a copy of "the incredible shrinking woman" on vhs.

[Jules]

"Wait, really? The ring doesn't vanquish the potential suitor right away? I still have to make awkward conversation with a stranger? " hee hee. They never quit Colleen, Never.

[ANDREA]

i know you're busy, but i tagged you (how 5th grade of me!) so play along if you get a moment... if you so wish!

cheers,
andrea

[Kartek]

Jeepers! I would have peeked through the peephole to see who it was. What you need is a nice baseball bat or something along those lines. Beebee gun is too much effort...loading of beebees and then pumping..nevermind the aiming factor.

[Kartek]

Jeepers! I would have peeked through the peephole to see who it was. What you need is a nice baseball bat or something along those lines. Beebee gun is too much effort...loading of beebees and then pumping..nevermind the aiming factor.

[jew]

I don't know, that 'prehistoric fish' looks an awful lot like a crawfish baby to me...

[sunta73]

Funny, I thought Maine "was the land that tends to reject being goal-oriented", wanting "you to focus more on the journey than the destination".
Okay your story about the suitor is too much - but the knocking on the door is like, CALL THE POLICE!
I'd be scared out of my mind!
Your photos of the store - esp. that little CHODAH guy were a riot!
Great post!

[I Like Cheese]

I love how guys always pick the days we are dressed down to hit on us. There's nothing like me in a pair of baggy sweatpants, hair in a bun, greasy forehead...something about that look makes men want me something fierce LOL

[meanieT]

speaking of getting hit on...do you remember the time when you were visiting me in Columbus and we got hit on by that guy who just got out of prison. He even had papers??

[Amy]

foster a dog - NO ONE will break in if you have a dog around.

[cokane]

meanieT, I very dimly recall that! that wasn't the guy who called me a devil at the pool hall, was it? haha

[Randy]

I gotta' go with Alex on the Piccadilly thing. I second everything he said, plus it's also kind of like the perfect Saturday/Sunday morning hangover food.