Things that were waiting for me when I got back from St. Maarten:
A corn cob pipe from Husband
I plan on putting bubbles in it
A surfboard
an anonymous love note
and a peacock on my refrigerator
Not pictured: two very happy puppies and one spectacularly happy Husband.
baby duckies
baby Chino Bambino
Beloved
Corona when she was still (kind of) a puppy
Rays game in my vintage jersey
Inspecting our first house. I compulsively drove by almost everyday and would walk inside and just stand around in the middle of all the construction. Just because it was ours.
a very disgruntled Holly
my squirrel friend
we are that couple.
MUCHO CERVEZA
first jack-o-lantern. there’s still a stain on our front porch.
yes.
one very happy mother in law.
Beloved after painting our renovated chicken coop/first apartment
Zeva. puppy/body pillow. fabulous snuggler
wet willies. Husband looked on in horror.
Sarah’s birthday
the princess clock Julie bought for me at work
ARTHUR
this was in the new studio. it scared me.
tailgate
birthday pie
i found a leprechaun.
key west
half a rat > a whole rat
Jamie vision
circa august 2009
baby stella
white demon love song
When I went to St Maarten, Penelope died. Alex fed her everyday…but I suppose without me singing to her and talking to her every morning she just lost her will to live. Alex told me that things just die when I go away…he doesn’t know what it is, but things most certainly die. We’ll replace her soon. I don’t like looking at her empty bowl.
We spent a lot of time with Neil in St Maarten. He owned the jewelry store in Maho. He adored Jackie and she giggled every time he looked at her. They were head over heels for each other. He was from India and he wore a lot of rings and rope bracelets. He pulled up chairs to the jewelry counter and made us drinks and let us stay after closing. He took us to Bliss and stood at the edge of the dance floor holding my drink while Julie and I danced for hours. He didn’t blow my cover when I told people I was from Oklahoma. He laughed at me when I went in the pool and told me I wasnt allowed in his car afterwards. But then he laughed and I knew he was joking. He drove us around and we made a point to see him everyday, even just in passing. He waved to us every time we drove by. He picked out the craziest jewelry for us to try on and let us sit in the jewelry store laughing and happy and slightly intoxicated for as long as we pleased. Neil influenced a certain unmistakable breed of dark magic on the island.
But now Neil is dead. He died in a motorcycle accident Sunday night. They wouldn’t let Jackie see him. I wish I had a picture of him to send her, but I don’t. Neil was taking all the pictures, entertained by our antics.
I fear sudden death above all else.
To Alex, From Jamie, With Love
i live off love
i feed off love
i breathe off love
i think of love
i drink of love
i sink in love
and in the middle of the night i need my love
i need to grieve and need to need and be in love
my love is gonna come to me
tonight
i give my love and all my love to you, my love
i feast on love, a beast for love, release my love
you’re scared and unprepared for love, don’t care my love
-The Shivers
Cold airports, flights without my Husband. Chastised by immigration, stranded by the police, abandoned in the dark. Spinning on a dance floor, oblivious to the world. A jewelry store with a bar in the corner, free drinks and anything we wanted. A thousand lights hanging in the dark. Bliss, standing in the middle of a pool with a hundred eyes on me, dress swirling around my legs, purple in the blue water. Markets and shops, bags, and braids. A sick boy lost at the top of a staircase leading nowhere except the sky. Too many speed bumps and butterflies in my stomach. Cows in the street and a stray dog that needs saving. Laying in the sand, looking up at planes close enough to touch with the tips of my fingers. A puppy burned with acid, 3 kittens left for dead. Two kittens in the sink, washing off the smell of death that clings to them so fiercely. A restaurant in the trees, lulled to sleep by a disco ball. French accents and narrow streets, curtains blowing through the windows of graffitied houses. One brokedown palace after another stacked precariously up the mountainside, columns crumbling, vines covering blackened walls. A small child in an alley, running desperately towards traffic. An anchored boat in the waves of a nude beach, swimming to shore to walk on the rocks in the shadows of mountains. Puppies in cages that will never know love, if not for mine. Phone calls to beloved looking out over a lagoon. Losing all concept of time curled up on a beach, glowing in the sun. Goats behind fences, roosters in the street. Dinners at fancy restaurants, nights spent in casinos.
Julie is leaving for St. Maarten tomorrow. Tonight, over margaritas, Beloved suggested I go with her.
So I am.
I will be gone for a whole week. And it makes me sad that Husband will be alone. I haven’t left yet and I’m already excited for when I get to see him when I come home.
Maybe he will post something on here while I’m gone. Maybe he won’t.
I definitely won’t.
But in a week I will.
Au revoir.
That secret that we know That we don't know how to tell I'm in love with your honor I'm in love with your cheeks
-Bon Iver
There are too many things I love about you.
Easter. Goodwill dresses. Chocolate for Beloved. Dying brown eggs. Bunny ears. High heels. Babies in their Sunday best. Mouse cakes. Heart to hearts. Hammock naps. Sweet Stella. Shadows. Rainbows.
For the last 6 months, Julie and I have been planning our Moulin Rouge night, where we get dressed up all lady-like and go to L’Olivier, the only can-can/cabaret show on the planet with enough fire, feathers, and glitter to make my head spin.
So tonight was the night. And guess what?
IT’S FUCKING CLOSED.
I am still devastated. It blows my mind – how, exactly, do you go out of business when you are the only french can-can dinner show in the state? Especially when you have the perfect location in Ybor? How the hell could you not be successful?
So, anyway, I got all dressed up and put a little effort into my makeup and put feathers in my hair and we went to The Improv instead and laughed at some redneck jokes. Then we walked around, nostalgic about the can-can we had never seen.
And since Beloved was playing golf when I was done getting ready, I had to take pictures of myself, since I spent all that time getting ready…for a can-can show that no longer exists…
I’m starting my own can-can/cabaret/magic show. In an old theatre made of crumbly-bricks. With big crazy lights and mismatched chairs and a really big bar. With balconies. And all kinds of crazy shit.
