Monday Montage: CONSOLE

Hey Everyone...

Still accepting submissions for this week's Monday Montage.  No one has sent me a picture, so go find something that consoles you and send me a picture.  You can e-mail it to monkeyheartdiscourses@gmail.com

DO IT!  Then, you all can have the reading pleasure of something like this: Monday Montage: Banana Love Week 1

You have until, well until I have enough pictures to submit for this week's Monday Montage.  So, go take me a picture, pretty please?????

Waiting patiently....

CALLING ALL HALLOWEEN LOVERS!

Every Halloween, well since 2007, Austin, Texas has been privy to the most creative, dynamic group of roving Halloween paraders on THAT side of the Mississippi. (I do live in New Orleans, y'all...)

Anyway, the Krewe du Coeur Maudit is hosting a Benefit BBQ to help raise funds for their 2011 parade. 

If you, or anyone you know live in the Austin, TX area, stop out this evening at Red 7 Night Club, enjoy some BBQ, and hear some rockin' good tunes from The Town Hall Devils.

2010 Krewe DCM Parade Video:

TONIGHT!!!! SUNDAY, JUNE 26 

Krewe Du Couer Maudit Benefit BBQ

6 - 9 P.M.

RED 7 NIGHT CLUB

AUSTIN, TX

Be there or be square!

"Come in.  Nice to meet you."  "Hello.  (Let me sell myself to you, make you like me - I think) Nice to meet you too. (Convince you of my intelligence...be a lady...) "

Oh goodness, I'm nervous.

So, here's some pretty music for you to enjoy.  I'll get back to writing soon.  Talk about shaking things up.  I'll write about that soon....as for now.  Have to go get ready to enter that gate.  Again, and again.  And again.

It's starting to feel like ballet class up in here.

I'll chat at you all later when I've calmed myself a bit...

xoxo

MONTAGE MONDAY: WEEK ONE - Banana Love

BANANA LOVE

The Lone Bicycle sits in the stairwell, waiting for his amour.  His little banana lover, the yellow cruiser named Buttercup Bananamobile, has gone missing.  All his friends told him she ran off with another guy, but The Lone Bicycle knows the truth.  Buttercup has been stolen!

You see, their love was a quiet love.  Their respective riders weren't even aware of the passion that consumed the both of them when in each others' presence.  Overwhelming, that's what Buttercup used to say.  The Lone Bicycle would leave her love notes here and there, just so she knew she was special.  It was, some say, true love.

Except, now Buttercup has been missing for months now.  The Lone Bicycle, sad and depressed, has refused to leave his post by the window in the stairwell.

 

Finally, fed up with The Lone Bicycle's loneliness, Buttercup's rider contacted someone she thought might be able to help The Lone Bicycle's plight.  Detective Le Sausage agreed to take on the case, simply because The Lone Bicycle had an inside connection with a local shrimp boat captain.  It's all about who you know, after all.

Detective Le Sausage then called Gill on her special direct line banana phone in Gloucestershire.  She had hoped that since Buttercup was yellow and missing, Gill's banana phone would be able to provide some answers. They chatted.  Gill has not seen Buttercup Bananamobile, either.

 

Detective Le Sausage then corresponded with Mama Kitty and all her great knowledge of the Universe and all things involving true love.  Mama Kitty, never one to rely on her resources alone, called in her army of helpers to find Buttercup Bananamobile.

 

Mama Kitty even called Grandma Kitty.  Extra novenas and rosary were said for poor Buttercup Bananamobile.

 

She then called Laura and had her perform a couple of inspirational centering exercises using the special Bananagrams game.  When in doubt, use Bananagrams to channel all your missing-banana related issues.

 

While Mama Kitty was busy calling in her resources, Detective Le Sausage contacted her special forces member, Lille Pige and asked her to look everywhere for Buttercup Bananamobile.  She even looked under her toes!  Lille Pige reported back to Detective Le Sausage that Buttercup Bananamobile was in fact, NOT hiding in between her toes or in the backyard. 

 

Never one to pass up a delicious snack, Detective Le Sausage then visited with Jenn about the disappearance of Buttercup Bananamobile.  While Detective Le Sausage gobbled her homemade, special recipe banana bread, Jenn said that she thought she had seen Buttercup Bananamobile passing through town last Tuesday, but later realized that it was Lemondrop Bananamobile, Buttercup's cousin.

 

Detective Le Sausage will continue looking for Buttercup Bananamobile, but only because she received a large sum of shrimp from The Lone Bicycle's shrimp boat captain friend.  After she takes her nap, of course.


Until then, The Lone Bicycle will be sitting, waiting by the window for his long lost love to return.  And Detective Le Sausage will keep searching, as long as the shrimp keep coming...

Next week's theme: CONSOLE 
e-mail your pictures to: monkeyheartdiscourses@gmail.com

Don't miss out on the fun of next week's MONTAGE MONDAY: CONSOLE!!!!!


**Thank you to Gill, Jenn, Jules, Laura, and Mama Kitty for their pictorial contributions to today's Monday Montage.

Not Fade Away

Hit Play, Then Read!

May 29, 1957 was my dad's 10th birthday, and I believe he was living in Tahoka, Texas on a dry land cotton farm.  He was picking cotton on that day, probably.  I don't think they got the day off for their birthday, but you'd have to ask him.

Anyway, the point is, my 10 year old dad, living in Tahoka,  TX, was 33 miles away from where Buddy Holly grew up.  On my dad's birthday in 1957, while he was picking cotton in Tahoka, TX, Buddy Holly and his band members recorded "Not Fade Away" in a recording studio in Clovis, New Mexico.  Holly had already recorded "That'll Be The Day" in February of that year.  According to the Buddy Holly Center, Holly wasn't allowed to use any of the songs he had recorded under his contract with Decca and needed a new name so they could release the new song, "Not Fade Away".  That's when they became Buddy Holly and The Crickets.  Instrumentation used in the recording included a cardboard box, knee slaps, and a celeste.

The version above, Florence & The Machine's, was recorded here in New Orleans while in town for her appearance at VooDoo Fest in 2010.  Instrumentation used in the recording include a brass band, tuba goodness, and some MoJo soul thrown in.  This track is part of the compilation cover album "Rave On Buddy Holly", which will be released on June 28.  You can have a listen to all the tracks on the cd at NPR's Website.

It's funny to me that Buddy Holly recorded a song called "Not Fade Away" 54 years ago and that song has spanned the musical globe ever since.  "Not Fade Away" has been recorded by The Rolling Stones (1964), The Byrds (1965), Rush (1973), Bruce Springsteen (1978), and The Grateful Dead recorded the song and performed it over 530 times during their touring days.  Numerous other artists have covered this song, as it is a classic.  Without Buddy and his Crickets, there would have been no Beatles and there would have been no Stones.  There is even a version of "Not Fade Away" on YouTube that features Bob Livingston performing the song in different countries all over the globe.

So, even though Buddy passed too soon at the age of 22, he has definitely not faded away.  I doubt Buddy Holly, who grew up 33 miles away from my dad, would have thought his music would still be influencing others half a century later.  I don't know about you, but I grew up knowing all of Buddy Holly's songs.  It was just part of growing up in West Texas - you knew who Buddy Holly was and where he came from.

I actually ended up in Lubbock, TX for my undergraduate degree.  Home of Buddy Holly.  He's kind of in my bones like New Orleans is in my bones, if you really think about it.  Now, Florence and The Machine has recorded the same song, in the same town in which I reside.  Coincidence?  Maybe Buddy is stalking me from the grave...

Feet First, First Time, Y'all!

So my dad, he's a nurse.  Actually, both my parents are nurses, which means when my brothers and I grew up, we were pretty much screwed out of faking being sick.  Mom and Dad, you see, they were in the know.  You feel sick but no temperature?  You go to school!  You don't feel good?  Tough cookie!  Get your butt out of bed and go to school!  What?!?  Your brother cut your arm off and you need to go to the emergency room?  I see the ketchup bottle, Kelly, now get ready for school!

My parents' nursing careers are extremely different.  My mom took the more administrative route of things and among many other accomplishments, was the Director of Nurses for a very prestigious retirement facility in our city.  She brought home the bacon and cooked it too, y'all.

But so did my dad.  In a quieter way.  You see, my dad is a rehabilitation nurse.  No, not like on Celebrity Rehab where people are like, "Oh, I need one more fix o' that smack yo'!"  Nope.  My dad deals with the spinal chord injuries, the people who have suffered strokes, had hip replacements, been in terrible motorcycle/car accidents, or even tried to take their own lives unsuccessfully.  My dad has seen some terrible stuff and I am only just now realizing that he has the patience of Job.

He doesn't talk about work.  He never has.  He doesn't reveal details about his patients, that's just not how he rolls.  The only information that I have ever received from my dad about his work are more cautionary tales of what not to do, so you don't end up a quadriplegic being taken care of by my dad.  While my dad is probably one of the best nurses I know, I would NEVER want to be one of his patients.  I imagine him saying to someone, "You can't move your body?  Tough cookie!  Now brush your teeth and get dressed."  He really isn't that way, I promise.  But in rehab, you have to be tough with your patients.  It's a frustrating situation to be in, losing control of your body.  You can lose faith, and you need someone tough to help drive you along and push you.  My dad, he's a good pusher.

I was having a chat with him on the phone the other night while he was ironing his uniforms for work and he sounded a bit worn down.  Like his day had really gotten the better of him, which is rare since he seems to be able to leave most stuff at the hospital. When I asked him how work was, he sighed, saying how they were a little short handed that day, therefore his one - to - one care rule at the hospital involved him assisting a patient with short term memory loss for the majority of the day.

Short term memory loss.  That's a biggie.  It's more than just when you meet someone and you immediately forget their name.  Nope.  Much larger.  I believe this particular patient was confused and thought someone had been taking their belongings.  I think his day was spent repeating, "No, your things are right here."

Patience of Job.

So, I have to cut my dad a lot of slack for when we were growing up.  I used to think him impatient at times, when in fact, he is probably one of the most patient people I know.  He just happens to have a job where he has to use his patience at all times, every single minute he is at work.  Thank goodness he still had some left over for us when he got home at the end of the day.

As I was getting off the phone, I asked if he was going to be taking care of that patient the next day.  He said he wasn't sure but that probably at some point he would be handling that patient's care.  I told him that the next time the patient was confused about where their personal belongings were, he should tell that person that the Unicorn Police were holding it safely for them until thy got better.

He got REAAAAAAAALLLY upset at that suggestion.  Too much?  My poor Daddy.  Could you imagine what firestorm that would have brought him if someone had said that to a patient with short term memory loss?  (I really have a messed up sense of humor, y'all! Good thing my dad is a moral, ethical and upstanding nurse!)

So, for Father's Day weekend,  I thought I would share my dad's top 3 rules for having fun in the sun/water.  They have kept us safe and alive for this long, so I think he kinda knows what he's talkin' about.


Super Nurse Ken's Top 3 Rules for Sunshine Fun!

1. Drink your water.  Lots and lots of water.  Seriously.  He wrote songs at camp about the importance of drinking water.  You should ask him to sing you one of these songs as they are quite cheeky.  Do it. - drink your water (and ask him to sing to you!)  Dehydration is seriously nasty, nasty.

2. Sunscreen it up, baby!  You don't want your little bambinos or yourself looking like a bunch of "Rock Lobsters!"  Plus, skin cancer is so 1999.

3. FEET FIRST, FIRST TIME: This is a biggie.  No, really.  This is huge.  Any time you guys go to the pool, the lake, the ocean, off a cliff, or anywhere that you are jumping into a body of water where you do not know how deep it is:  FEET FIRST.  Period.  Don't go trying to impress the ladies with your swan dive because you will be receiving your nutrition through a tube in your stomach if you try that.  Trust me, it's happened before and it will happen again.

*4. No Motorcycles.  Ever.  Period.  I repeat.  ABSOLUTELY NO  M-O-T-O-R-C-Y-C-L-E-S! PERIOD. EVER. NO!


*5. No Convertibles/Jeeps/Open topped moving thing of any kind.  Again, If I ever catch you in one of those death traps, I'm going to snatch you bald headed so fast, you won't know what hit....

*#4 and #5 rules are completely up to you guys.  He just instilled a fear of God in me so huge about those modes of transportation that the idea of riding on a motorcycle is like betraying 'The Godfather".  I'd end up with a horse's head in my bed or something.

So, give your dad's an extra tight squeeze this weekend and turn Father's Day into Father's Weekend Fun in the Sun!  Just make sure you drink your water, wear your sunscreen, and FEET FIRST, FIRST TIME!

Happy Friday!
xoxo

Thursday Thoughts: Inspiration - What To Do When You've Lost Your Mojo?

So everyone has been talking about what inspires them, and as it turns out, all the members of our little rogue writing group have touched on all the various things that inspire me already.  Well, besides the obvious of kitties, puppies, unicorns, and cheese.  Oh, cheese, how I love thee, so!  How your melty ways find their ways to my derriere, and then I hate you.  But, again, I love you.  CHEESE!  WHY MUST YOU TORTURE ME SO?

What I wanted to talk about is what do you do when you have lost your inspiration?  If you look at my blog history, there were a couple of months in there where I only wrote a handful of blogs for the entire month.  I have written more this month than I have managed to in a long time.  It's refreshing.  Like a much needed rain, you know?

Our little rogue writing group, I already feel very protective of you all.  I hope you know that.  I've already learned a lot about you all, simply by perusing your various posts.  What I'm getting at is that it's important to connect with people.  Even if it is over the internet with a woman in Malaysia.  Knowing that we are all out there, writing our passions and thoughts and feelings down, and supporting each other in our endeavors.  That is what inspires me and is what I must force myself to seek when I want to run away and not face the world around me.

You see, I have been dealing with a bit of a dark rain cloud hanging over my head lately.  It's clearing, obviously, hence my emergence from le cave.  But, if you wrap yourself in an insulator blanket of hatred and your own self-destructive thoughts, you morph into this troll hermit person that does not represent the soul of a Monkey Heart Possessor.  And I am, after all, a Monkey Heart Possessor.

Basically, when you have lost that inspiration, change your situation.  It's how my husband and I ended up in New Orleans.  I know that my own pattern of spiraling down into a loss of inspiration for life has a lot to do with not being challenged and ignoring the hunger that I have to learn about any topic possible.  We left Texas because I had lost my inspiration in that place.  I needed to shake it up, change my scenery, lose my anger toward a very good place, and move into a new phase of inspiration in my life.

The move to New Orleans inspired this blog.  I convinced myself that it would be a great way for people to catch up on how we are doing in the Big Easy, plugging along, rocking and rolling.  However, this place, The Monkey Heart Discourses, has morphed into something entirely unexpected and not what I had originally set out for it to be.  Hell, honestly, I didn't have a plan for the blog.  And we didn't have a complete plan when we moved 900 miles away from Texas.

But, here we are, surrounded by an inspiration overload.  It is a little overwhelming at times, the amount of stimuli available to those willing to participate.  And I want to do it all!  A big part of me does...but that's the challenge, do you continue taking these huge leaps in order to achieve a higher level of inspiration?

I think that is the sign of an artist's heart.  Never satisfied, always trying to make it better, even if it wasn't broken in the first place.  So, if it is broken, or even if it isn't, don't be afraid to turn over your apple cart a few times in your life.  It's short, and you don't want to die wishing you had seen Paris.

Practicing Yoga: Against Your Religion?

How many of you practice yoga as a form of exercise?  Me personally, I like to pretend that I practice yoga, but by no means am I anything but a bendy-ballerina who is jealous of those brave enough to attempt, let alone achieve, a proper head stand.  However, I look at yoga in the same way that I view a really involved ballet class.  It is an excellent way to not only work on your physical body, but also your mental health through meditation.  Do you think it is possible to achieve 32 par terre hops in a row in Giselle while you are thinking about how you have to call the dentist about that tooth cleaning and pay your electric bill?  It isn't, and if you do think about that bill, down comes your leg, you fall out of your pose, having lost your concentration.  On the other hand, if you do maintain your concentration/meditation on the task/pose at hand and you pull it off, the mental and physical payoffs are immeasurable.

Yoga = Meditation = Peace of Mind = Having A Full Bucket = Better For The UNIVERSE!

Which is why I was really blown away by Feexa's post over at Hijab 'n' The City this morning. In her post, she brings up that in the Muslim religion, practicing yoga is considered 'haram'.  Now, being an American and wanting to really understand exactly what Feexa was talking about, I did a little research to understand what 'haram' means.

Basically, it's against your religion and against God.  Period.  It's like when the Pope says, "Hey, y'all, no birth control because sex is for procreation only!"  Except, I don't know about you, but I know many a Catholic woman who has used birth control.  Kind of like that, only much more extreme because this is over in Malaysia, NOT America.

Feexa stated that there was a big uproar in the media in Malaysia back in 2009 about Yoga being 'haram' for practicing Muslims.  While there continues to be a stigma against practicing yoga, it seems that Feexa is pushing on and continues to teach yoga to her students, despite many people in her community who do not allow their wives, daughters, mothers, or sisters to practice such a beneficial way to take care of the whole person.  I chalk it up to naivete.  People are afraid of what they do not understand, and it appears that in Malaysia, Feexa is fighting quite a battle against preconceived notions.

Her post makes me appreciate that I live in America.  It makes me realize that as American women, we take for granted that we can walk down the street with our heads uncovered.  And, if we choose to walk down the street with a hijab on our head, we also have that right.  We can go take that yoga class, or maybe even a pole dancing exercise class and know that our husbands will not be waiting for us when we get home, ready to beat us for committing a sin against God and bringing shame to the family.

What a battle our sisters of the world face.  Next time you go take a yoga class, or any class for yourself, remember that there a woman in this world who would like to be in your shoes...or bare feet, and be stepping onto her own yoga mat.

Is it sacrilege to take care of ones' self?  I don't think so and I don't think you do, either.  Therefore, let's all say an extra prayer or two for Feexa and her students and their continued battle in bringing yoga to the masses in Malaysia!

Doggie Brigade

I believe that our animals are our forever friends.  They are loyal, they show affection, understand your moods, and can somehow manage to turn a not-so-great day into a better one, simply by letting you pet their fur.

I saw these two cuties driving around  one day.  They were just hanging out on the front porch of their house, checking out things in the neighborhood.  They look like their human parents take good care of them and are the best of buds, don't you think?

Kevin and I are so lucky to have our two kitties as companions.  They are definitely lazier than most dogs and go to the bathroom in a litter box, so that means we don't take them on walks to do their business.  Plus, have you ever tried putting a cat on a leash?  It's pretty funny.  They tend to fall over and you end up dragging them along.  In other words, cats will not be led.

Which brings me to another point.  New Orleans is a dog city.  Everyone has a dog around here and I have gotten to know the many dogs in the neighborhood, simply by associating them with their owners when they walk by the house.

The guy in the scrubs has the cutest basset hound, except the basset hound has an extra swishy tail, like a Persian cat.  There is also this other guy that walks a literal dog brigade around the neighborhood - he's walking about 4 dogs at once.  I wonder if he is a dog walker.

I love our kitties.  LOVE, LOVE, LOVE THEM!  But, I want a dog.  Not a puppy, even though puppy breath is the best, but I know that right now is not the time for us to have a dog.  We don't have the space, the cats would divorce us, and on, and on....

So, I get to admire everyone walking their dogs around the city, and then I return home to my kitties.  They are quiet (well, Alice is quiet) and offer us plenty of affection, as long as their food bowl is full. 

However, when we are able to move into a bigger place, you better believe Kevin and I are going to march ourselves down to the animal shelter and pick out a gently used dog to add to our family of fur babies. 

That way, I won't get strange looks showing up at the dog park with a cat on a leash.

Happy Tuesday!
xoxo

Montage Monday | First Week: BANANAS

Since I have this large influx of new readers, and I must say that I am so happy you have stopped by, I have decided to start a new project that I will be posting on a weekly basis called Montage Monday!

So, you guys get an assignment!  I want you to take a picture of something during your week that makes you happy, inspires you, makes you question humanity, whatever, and sent it my way!  I will make a big photo collage/montage of all the photos that you guys send me for the week.  Oh, and I think we should have themes each week, that way if you are stumped, you can have a little guidance.

For the first official week of Montage Monday photo collection, I want the theme to be BANANAS.  Whatever that means to you, capture it in film, and send me an e-mail with your image!  (And please don't just everyone send me pictures of the Chiquita Banana lady!)

You can mail your pictures to monkeyheartdiscourses@gmail.com

Okay, GO BANANAS!

Deadline to submit your photo for the following Montage Monday Sunday evening (June19th this week!) 6 p.m. CST!

Happy photog-ing!

Secret Hideaway

Oh, Monday!  I wish you hadn't gone ahead and shown back up this week.  I was so enjoying the weekend and the weather and taking walks and peeking in other people's secret garden hideaways.

But alas, it is back to the grind, back to the week, back to our normal responsibilities.

I hope rest found you this weekend, you did manage to tackle that pile o' laundry and you were able to take some time to stop and smell the night blooming jasmine....

Have a great week!

xoxo

Heart's Desire

Happy Sunday, Everyone! 

Welcome to all my latest followers, please feel free to take a poke around and see what this site is all about - pretty much pure silliness, if you haven't already figured it out yet!

So, on this Sunday, may peace be with you (and also with you...), and may you find some way to carve out a little bit of time to replenish your bucket.  Find a book, sit under a tree and read!  You gotta have something going on while you are tackling that massive pile of laundry! (Wait, is that just me?)

Have a great day, fill your bucket, go on a walk and find something unexpected today.  I promise it will make your week ahead that much better!

xoxo

We Are All In This Together

 

I came across this beautiful post from Kel at What the Kel that really touches on what it means to exist in a war zone.  As Americans, we are so often shielded from what is actually going on in the world.  

So, go visit Kel at her blog and leave a comment on her beautiful piece, Ghosts of Wars Past.

Plus, she has a pretty awesome name!

Happy Saturday!

So My Mom Went on a Safari

Picture Courtesy of Cheryl

She is apparently really afraid of bears!  Of course, this guy kinda looks hungry.  But don't worry, she's safe.  She fed him a cookie and everything was a - okay!

Hope you all have a fabulous Friday and a wonderful weekend!

xoxo

Tea Parties & Putting On Pants

When I was little, it was a big deal every year at Christmas time for one of the girls in my class to host a Christmas tea.  I believe this was a tradition in her family, I'm not exactly sure.  It was an opportunity for all the mothers and daughters to come together for an afternoon of tea, cookies, and lady-like conversation.

We all dressed up for this tea, it was Christmas time after all, and I remember being at this girl's house in this very fancy gated community in town, thinking "Oh MY GOD!  I'm going to drop my tea or something and ruin this girl's house and then all the girls in my class REALLY WILL HATE ME AND MAKE FUN OF ME!"  I was kind of a nervous wreck, but I stayed close by my mother's side because she was, and is, ever the lady.

So, we are all enjoying our tea out of our pretty tea cups and having nice lady like conversation and I'm still feeling nervous and noticing the whiteness of the carpet in this beautiful home.  I'm not sure what happened.  I can't explain if I tripped, someone bumped me or I secretly did it on purpose, but out of my little hands tumbles my tea cup.  Brown liquid now covers the once pristine white carpet.

I am devastated.  Mortified.  I think I started crying.  In fact, I know I started crying because that was my reaction to anything.  I messed up?  Start crying.  I got mad?  Tears start pouring.  I embarrassed myself beyond anything I could have EVER imagined. I'm bawling in my party dress with my mother and all these other women rushing around saying, "Oh, no big deal, lalalala, Stop Crying, Kelly. No big deal, really, no big deal STOP CRYING KELLY!"

Ugh.  Embarrassment central.  And to top it off, I was at a function with all of "those girls".  The mean ones, the ones who had more money than my family, and made sure that I was aware of it when I showed up in clothes from Target and they were wearing Dooney & Burke.  I was ruined and would never be a part of THEIR world.  They were perfect with perfect dresses and they definitely didn't drop tea cups at Christmas teas and ruin their friend's mother's carpet. 

Fast forward a few years, okay, a lot more than a few years, and I had the opportunity to attend a very glamorous party with a friend of mine for a work function her employer was having.  It was nice being an observer in this situation, that way I could mingle with whom I wanted and keep to myself otherwise.  After all, my friend was technically working this social event. 

This particular social event was held in a home similar to the one where the Christmas Tea was held.  Very nice, a great home for hosting social events of this nature.  Everyone dressed to the nines, lots of VERY important people in the community were in attendance, and I look over and see one of the most powerful women in the room drop her tea cup onto a very expensive looking Oriental carpet. 

At that point, I realized that everyone puts their pants on the same way.  And everyone is capable of dropping a tea cup on a friend's carpet, thus ruining her imported Oriental Rug from the Ming Dynasty.  It doesn't make you a bad person, it just means you are clumsy.

And who needs a Dooney & Burke purse, anyway?  Besides, that duck didn't match any of my outfits.

Queen Lulu the Llama

Happy Wednesday, Everybody!

I am not sure if you were aware, but I have a particular affinity for llamas.  I know, you are asking yourself, "Really, Kel?  Llamas?"

You see, I think they are the underrated cousin of the camel.  They spit like camels, they have eyelashes like camels, except, there is something more graceful about a llama, in my opinion.  I think it has something to do with their luxurious, flowing coat of white hair.  Also, their eyelashes are a little more glamorous than that of a camel.

This is what I think llamas would look like if they had thumbs and access to readily available, hypoallergenic llama makeup.  They would all be competing to see who could get their eyelashes taller and curlier and who would have the most outrageous lip color.

Then, the llamas would get together and elect a Queen of the Llamas.  This is purely based on her ability to work her eyelash curler, mascara, and lipstick.  Upon being crowned the queen, this llama will receive a magical crown that employs 30,000 lightning bugs per shift, just so she can have extra sparkles.  The lightning bugs are offered excellent benefits and a really generous 401K plan for their service to the Queen of the Llamas.

So, on this Wednesday in June of 2011, I declare Lulu the Queen of the Llamas!  Of course, she will only have a 4 year term, so girls, get ready.  In two years time, you will need to be ready to start your campaigning!

Have a great day!

xoxo

It's Girl Friday! (Or What it Means to be an Administrative Assistant)

I came across this interesting tribute to the American secretary this morning on Huffington Post that basically gave the history as to how the Administrative Assistant became known as an Assistant and not a Secretary, not a Girl Friday, and not an Office Wife.

Sure, there are plenty of discussions these days on how people migrate toward each other in their work environments and form bonds similar to spousal relationships (minus the smooches, one would hope).  Anyway, the way the Office Spouse/Wife/Husband has developed makes sense to me.  Everyone wants to have a friend in the office, that way, if you are about to throw your stapler at your boss's head, you can go tell your "Office Spouse" first, they can calm you down and assure you that, "Yes, throwing a stapler at his head would indeed get you fired and would contribute to the financial downfall of your marriage.  Don't do it.  Kevin would be mad."

Okay, it's not like that situation ever happened in my vast experiences as an office assistant, I never wanted to throw anything at anyone's head! (*wink*  If you believe that, we have not met in person.)

But the point is, there is still a stigma in being an assistant to someone.  I think that my previous post about wanting to be hired based on my qualifications stems from the stigma and my frustrations that come with being someone's secretary.  Yes, the Lord blessed women with beauty.  But He also blessed them with brains and talent.

I grew up in Texas and it is no surprise that there is still a very large good ol' boys club that exists there.  That belief system, the men do the real hard-thinking jobs and the ladies do the typing and taking out of trash, has a strong hold in the culture here in New Orleans as well.  What is interesting is that I am now, in my opinion, overqualified to continue on this assistant's path.  I have a master's degree, tons of experience, and a savvy way with which I handle those "good ol' boys".  I'm tough.  I learned how to behave like a lady and still hold my ground when it comes to inappropriateness in the work place and I can thank my mother for that excellent role model.

Except, here's the thing.  My mom WAS the boss.  She was the one who had the secretary and worked all the time.  I'm sure there was a time in her life that she typed for people, but she worked her derriere off to get to where she ended up in her professional career (she has since retired and is doing freelance work).  My mom, the boss, was my role model.  Not her assistant. Not those working for her. And she would prefer I say with her, not for her.
  
It's frustrating that some professional men continue to perpetuate this belief system.  It's unfortunate that women and men today have to deal with a less than black and white situation in his or her work environment. I think that comes with the type of work I do as well, and I must always keep that in mind.  Working in the arts, even if it is an office environment, is different than working in a paper company or law firm.  Arts = emotions = crazy people with emotions.  So, I'm going to cut my experiences a lot of slack in that department.

However, from this point on in my assisting of professionals, I am going to make it a point to remind myself every time that boss asks me to pick up the giant pile of trash he just dumped in the middle of his floor that I am strong like my mother.  And, I'm younger than my boss. 

Which means, I still have time to get to the top.  Here's to everyone who has had to get coffee for someone who thinks they are too good to get it themselves, here's to everyone who has had to learn to be a computer networking expert in a matter of 2 seconds because something crashed the system, and here's to everyone who knows in their heart of hearts that the place would literally fall apart if you stopped showing up.

But, I suppose they really can't get their coffee themselves, sometimes  I wonder if their wives let them get away with that at home. . .

Beached

Going to the beach today.  Kevin has been promising me a trip for some time now, so we are going to make a day of it.  We've packed our sandwiches and are looking for the gun, so we'll be waiting.  At the beach.

P.S. Name what song I am referring to when I mentioned the sandwiches and gun and you might just get a prize!  Guess away!!!!!

Happy Monday, y'all!