minn and I have recently returned from Paris and London with a fresh, clean new smell and the desire to ride a cadillac through an apple orchard (at least that last bit applies to me anyway.) I have arrived just in time to receive my first whiff of autumn which took place on August 24th at about 1:20 PM. If anyone has a special entry between July 28 and August 12 (the mystery period that my friends list won't reach that far back into) that they want me to see, please email me links. Photos *are* coming soon.

Summerites might not sympathize, but I for one am anxious for autumn to commence. It is coming just in time to, perhaps, flush out the air of instability that we've all noticed; Iraq is still bumbling along, there has been utter mayhem for Israelis, even the American Idol auditions found themselves overrun with bloody, screaming ("TV rots your braaaaains") zombies. Then even the zombies themselves were sucked into television-induced insanity when they agreed to be worked into the very American Idol episode that they were protesting. Then, of course, the hurricane tore up towns and cities while the country was left fairly unprepared for the inevitable. (Speaking of which, I also wouldn't be surprised if tomorrow Yahoo! released video of the backside of Hurricane Katrina, depicting a horde of black people blowing really hard... They'll probably also blame African-American looters for the recent theft of Judy Garland's ruby slippers from a Grand Rapids museum.) Finally, I learned how wildly uncomfortable it is to be strapped into a barber's chair after you've been drinking, handled and examined like that, with those shears churning about your head faster than you can fix your gaze on them.

However, I have seen some evidence of people who also must have caught that delightful whiff of autumn; waking up to the possibilities of the future and suffering bouts of uncontrollable celebration. Once such situation happened the other night as I crossed an intersection near my apartment. Diagonally across the intersection was a inebriated woman who decided she wanted to cross the street even though breakneck traffic was thrashing trails through the orange street light. So off she went like a tippity marionette, wobbling toward the Other Side. After a while she realized it was quite difficult to wade through rolling metal thunder so... she just gave up. What did she do instead? Why, began a program of Latin dancing, of course. (She was surprisingly good too.) With her arms flailing seductively, she swirled beautifully in the middle of 3rd ave as confused drivers skirted around and past her. Then the oncoming traffic grew weary of her performance and began honking angrily. Amused, she stopped and pretended to be a bull fighter, waving an imaginary cape at the cars as if they were enraged bulls with beady, headlight eyes. Spectators clapped and cheered as they finally permitted her to exit stage left.


oculatus abis: the Louvre Museum, Paris

( I was lowering a bottle from my lips in which liquid quickly retreated, fast enough to cause a little splash, and an excited droplet of lime juice leapt back out and landed on my tongue tingling with joy. She was transported. She was Judy Garland. )