Charming, but single

A journal in dates and drinks


Short post hurricane update

I have survived the hurricane. My town received considerable rain and wind, but was largely spared the flooding and destruction. I miraculously have electricity at my apartment, so I have officially moved. None of my other family members in town have electricity. (They're part of the one million in Alabama, Louisiana and Mississippi who do not.) People are bunking up with relatives as best they can. Phone lines are out. Cell phones are not working correctly. We have no cable or Internet in most cases. (I am using the Internet at a coffee shop right now. It was the only way to find out if I have to work tomorrow and to check my bank account. ATMs are out in many places.) But we are alive, we are dry, we have a place to stay and we have food to eat. This is much more than we can say for hundreds of thousands of others, including members of our family and many friends. I am alternately thankful and terribly guilty for this. Each time I whine about being inconvienced in some way, I immediately feel a sense of shame because people are drowning in their houses waiting to be rescued. I can't watch the news anymore. I just can't take it. Our family from the New Orleans area (Metairie, Kenner and Old Gentilly) is being told that they will not be able to return for at least a month. I have friends from the also hard-hit Northshore who know little about if they even have houses left because there is absolutely no communication there. The emergency workers can't even talk to each other. It is chaos. It is heartbreaking. I am in a daze. I cannot put words to the things we've seen and the stories we've heard and the sheer frustration that everyone is feeling. We kept busy by moving my furniture, cleaning up fallen trees and limbs and tracking down a generator because my whole extended family cannot sleep in my one-bedroom apartment. Will write more later.

Not sure what to call this one *

So I've been sick. Really sick. Like 103 fever, almost going to the hospital sick. This has slowed the moving process some ... whatever. I'm (sort of) of better now, thanks to an antibiotic dose pack and a round of cortizone. Mmmm, cortizone. Oh yeah, I am officially the unsexiest person in the world. I'm talking about medications and illness on my blog. Just shoot me. (And before we all start playing Dr. Blogosphere, I had a throat infection, not an STD or anything icky like that. Pervs. Dirty minds. All of you.) ** On a more important note, if you are the "donatin' to good causes" kind, drop the Red Cross some scratch. (Specifically the Southeast Louisiana Chapter.) Not a lot. Buy the Red Cross a martini or two. Or dinner and a movie. I'm not trying to pressure anyone into giving money. We've all got our causes and things we focus on, whether it be volunteering in our local communities or with your church or giving to United Way at work or whatever. The details about me and where I live have been pretty sparse. Suffice it say that I have much love for New Orleans. I'm quite a fan of the city and have friends and some family there, and it breaks my charming heart to see this fantastic place having such an awful time. (I'm writing before Hurricane Katrina hits, so I don't know the extent of the damage, but New Orleanians and hurricane watchers know that everyone speaks of "The Big One" that could be TERRIBLE for New Orleans and leave it under tons of water. Basically, a direct hit by a Category 5 hurricane is what people have been fearing for years. Hurricane Katrina = Worst Case Scenario. I don't think I can make it any clearer.) Now, don't get your pretty little panties and studly boxer-briefs in a twist. I absolutely DO NOT live in the DIRECT path of this hurricane. I'm safe and wonderful (albeit it slightly groggy and sick feeling) where I am. There will be rain and wind and power outages (maybe), but nothing to worry your sweet little heads over. Thanks for caring. Really. But it's gonna take more than a hurricane to take this dating disaster off of the streets, thankyouverymuch. Do, however, send some love, e-mail, comments, prayers or kind thoughts (whatever your thing is) to this New Orleanian from my blogroll. To recap: Donating to Red Cross = Good Possible blog silence for a few days = Probable (Nothing new, right?) Thoughts/Good karma to the New Orleanians = Necessary Ciao! * I was going to make a wind/rain/thunder joke/pun/reference in the post title, but I don't like to laugh in the face of imminent danger, loss of life and destruction. ** Seriously, I'm going to get crazy people at the blog now that I've used the words "throat" and "STD" in the same post. Eeeew.

Home Improvements

I think I am starting a new trend in beauty services. Forget CFM red nails and American manicures, I say. I'll take Gray Primer Tips any day. That's right, I'm painting. I have large pieces of mismatched furniture that I've always wanted to paint black so they all matched, and I'm doing it now. (And it has ruined my manicure and I am unhappy about this.) Why do this now in the heat of summer when there are so many other things I want to do with my weekend? Because I finally found a new place and I'm moving next weekend. (Not that I've packed anything or prepared at all other than to buy some cute new Asian sushi-style dinner plates and a new microwave.) I'm spending more than I initially wanted to, but it is much bigger than the current digs, has a fireplace, balcony and a HUGE walk-in closet with built-ins for my shoes. We all know I couldn't pass that up. Just wanted to let you know that I'm not dead, married, in hiding or anything other than busy and boring. I must return to painting. If I'm going to spoil a good manicure, I'm going to make it worth my while. (Thankfully my nail place is very close to my new apartment.)


Charming, but single is 25 26 27(!), lives in the Southern part of the U.S.A. and likes both her drinks and her boys tall. E-mail (listed below) her and she may respond. You can also IM her in AIM/AOL. (If she ever remembers to sign on.)
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Former taglines of this blog: "A Journal in Dates and Drinks" and "A Dateless Journal of Drinking."




Those Particulars
Some Backstory
Memories of the Way We Were
Updates and Towel Snapping
One Year Wrap-Up
Just As She Is
An Open Letter to Myself
After 26 years, she HAS learned something
An Open Letter to the Men Who Message Me Through Match
Sharing a smoke



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