I pity the fool

It's official. Kevin is now a member of the A-Team! What's that? You pity the fool that gets placed on the A-Team? Allow me to explain. During hurricane season, Kevin's hospital has an A-Team and a B-Team of staff members. If the city is required to evacuate for a storm (knock on wood, ya'll), Kevin has to stay. He must report to the hospital 24 hours before the storm hits land and is required to stay there until the city re-opens. Then, the B-Team comes in and relieves the A-Team.

I am proud of him that they think so highly of him to put him on the A-Team. Frankly, I would want someone as cool and collected working on me during a crisis like a giant hurricane of Katrina magnitude. No complainers, please! This is why I think he was chosen to serve on the A-Team. Would you really want someone working during that situation that was doing nothing but complain about how they aren't evacuating with their families?

But, I'm afraid for me and the kitties. This means that I get to evacuate with the cats by myself. I can do it and will be just fine, but the idea is just a little scary to me. That means no one is there to help me administer the Children's Benadryl to Oliver or keep me company while we sit in traffic for a million plus hours. Cest la vie.

I trust that everyone on that team will do anything in his or her power to make sure the patients at the hospital are safe and sound. Who knows, it could be quite an adventure for him and he might feel like he were in medical school, having to actually sleep at the hospital. As for me, I see a trip to Houston or Austin in my near future, but let's pray that it doesn't come to that this season.

So, here's to the A-Team!

Don't tell me it's not art

I repeat. DO NOT TELL ME IT IS NOT ART! I had an interview recently with someone who works on the outside of the arts industry. A supplier of sorts. He needed someone educated (obviously, because he couldn't even seem to spell educated correctly) and I know that this post will wipe out any chance I ever had of working with him, but I do not care.

He asked me what my hopes were in working with him. I answered, to work in an arts associated field and still have the flexibility to take a ballet class if I wanted. Then he informed me that his industry was not the arts. Excuse my language, but BULLSHIT! To all my friends who are lighting designers and set designers and stage managers, you are artists. You may not be on the stage when the lights go up and the audience is anxiously awaiting your performance, but YOU make the production happen. YOU are just as much a part of the entire theatre experience as any actor, dancer, or singer.

Therefore, to my uneducated interviewer. Suck it. You need some perspective on what truly goes on when making a production, whether it be a stage show or a major film production. IT IS ALL ART. It is a type of thinking. It is a common thread of creativity that brings everyone together and frankly, can make even the most common of person feel something. Thank you for your time but, no thank you. Perhaps you were threatened and that is why you reposted your job listing an hour after I left your presence. I feel sorry for you. Feel something. Create something. Struggle through something rather than have something just handed to you because you were born into it. That is not living and I consider it a blessing that the Great Universe is keeping that position away from me. That keeps you safe because if I were your employee and had to listen to how much we weren't a part of the arts, I think I would have to stab you with a blunt object. (Not really, I'm not the violent type, but I would atleast play out that scenario in my head repeatedly.)

Thank you for the opportunity to practice my interviewing skills, once again. Also, thank you for showing me that just because I interview with someone does not mean I have to accept a job just because it is available. I will find my place here and it will be with individuals that understand me and understand what it is to be creatively minded.

Lions and Tigers and Fleas - OH MY!!

Yuck. Gross. Poor babies! Our cat Alice has not been acting like herself lately. She normally is very sweet and wants lots of love and attention. She always loved her backside "spanked" (little love pats by her tail) but recently, when we would pet her, she would randomly lick the air. WHAT?!? Very odd to see, actually. We thought she had ant bites or mosquito bites because we were allowing her to sit on our balcony to sun her buns.

Then I noticed her biting at her fur and Oliver had started scratching like crazy as well. So, last night I did some research and figured out that our "babies" have fleas. YUCK! GROSS! In the seven years we have had the cats, they have never had a flea, tick or tapeworm. Now, it seems we are infested with them.

Thankfully, we found a wonderful veterinary hospital down the street. Magazine Street Animal Clinic was more than helpful and hooked us up with some Advantage. So, here's a tip to all you animal lovers: if you live in a humid, warm climate like we are now living, you MUST treat your pets for fleas. Apparently, it doesn't get cold enough here to ever freeze and kill the little buggers off so they just grow and multiply and become even more of a pest.

We applied the treatment to their fur and both kitties seem to be much happier. After a thorough mopping and washing every last stitch of fabric in the house, I think we might have killed the beasts. I feel like a bad kitty mommy for not realizing sooner that our cats had such a common problem. I guess that's what we get for being naive to the ways of the swamp lands. I'm learning new things all the time.

Perception Redirection

"We could never learn to be brave and patient if there were only joy in the world."
Helen Keller

As of late, I have been learning to find my joy in the little things. No longer do I have a job that makes me feel important and powerful. I have simplified my life in such a way that I have had to readjust how I approach and appreciate things. Back in Texas, Kev and I led a cushy life. We had friends and money and things to do. I didn't have to worry if I didn't feel like cooking dinner and wanted to go out to eat. That is no longer the case and honestly, I am VERY happy about that. (Except we live in a city that is known for it's delicious cuisine and it would be nice to partake in said food from time to time.)

We plan our grocery trips according to what is on sale. We make it a point to not go grocery shopping until we have eaten everything in the fridge and pantry, including all the leftovers. This has made me realize how much we wasted back in Amarillo. What horrible consumers we were. This reminds me of the starving children our mothers warned us about. Shame on us.

I have found joy in really taking care of my husband. Making sure he has clean socks and clean scrubs and the bed is made. (Because, honestly, doesn't it just FEEL better to get into a bed that has been made up in the morning? Something about crisper sheets and a positive flow of energy for you Feng Shui people)

I find joy in the magnolia tree that is across the street and the little boys that run up and down our block playing. Speaking of those boys, I saw them running down the sidewalk yesterday, avoiding stepping on every crack along the way. How do I know they were playing "Don't break your mother's back"? Because I played this when I was little, too. Oh, to not have any care in the world except what outfit I was going to wear on the first day of school!

I am learning and growing with these self imposed hardships. As I continue to find my niche in this close-knit community, I make it a point to remind myself of the little things that still bring me joy every single day. My husband, the kitties, actually having made the move to New Orleans, and knowing that these current hardships shall pass.

On the corner of St. Ann & N. Claiborne...

Under the highway, there is a mini art gallery. Local artists have turned the support columns for the highway into works of art. Rather than have graffiti covering every last inch of these concrete pillars, people have taken the time to tell a cultural story of New Orleans.


Here is a depiction of a southern lady carrying her "Second Line" umbrella. It does get hot around here and portable shade can be a necessity.


There are depictions of the delicious. There are multiple pillars that focus on the local cuisine. Anyone up for a bowl of gumbo and a crawfish boil?


Here is a Mardi Gras Indian. Mysterious and grand, consider yourself lucky if you happen to run into one during Carnival.


There are depictions of the uglier side of the city. This pillar shows the Freedom Riders and how African Americans struggled for equality during the Civil Rights Movement. In my opinion, racism is still a huge problem in this city. A friend of mine in the city told me one time, "If you're white, you're all right. If you're black, watch your back." Unfortunately, the longer I have been here, the more I have to agree with him.


Krewe of Zulu is one of the many Mardi Gras krewes that actively participate in the festivities of Carnival. They have the privilege of rolling (that is, their parade rolls) on Fat Tuesday. I think this guy has been working out! Look at those washboard abs!


What is New Orleans without some Voodoo thrown in. I particularly like this pillar because it reminds me of Texas and the Dia de los Muertos celebrations. Plus, I think I just have a thing for pictures of skeletons. Don't ask me why.


Here is the other side of that pillar. You get two pictures of this one because I think it is particularly awesome.

This city continues to amaze me with the combination of complete destruction and awe inspiring beauty. I admire how the city's residents can take something so ordinary and turn it into art. And because these artists took the time to create something meaningful, the amount of scribble and graffiti has been somewhat lessened. I think I have found my muse in this city.

Oh my aching nerves...

On my way to yet another job interview. Keep your fingers crossed! I just want someone to want me - you know, really want me! Enough to pay me, at least. And get me out of the house! I'm going stir crazy!

I'll keep you posted - keep your fingers crossed and do a job acquirement dance for me while you are at it! I need all the good mojo I can get!

Anne Rice and the Tree Foot

"Even the approach through the deserted streets seduced him. He walked slowly over cracked and uneven sidewalks of herringbone brick or gray flagstone, under an unbroken archway of oak branches, the light eternally dappled, the sky perpetually veiled in green." Anne Rice, The Witching Hour

I visited Anne Rice's former home yesterday, (well, the outside at least). I wanted to take pictures and to see in person the detailed descriptions of the Mayfair Witch's home in which I have been so absorbed for the past couple of days. The picture above is of Ms. Rice's home. It is now on the market for $3.7 million. I think I will put a bid on the house, what do you say?

While her former home is a gem, I was more interested to see the house that is across the street from where she wrote in her solarium (on the left side of the house, upstairs).

"Greek Revival style they called it - a long violet-gray town house on a dark shady corner in the Garden District, its front gate guarded it seemed by two enormous oaks. The iron lace railings were made in a rose pattern and much festooned with vines - purple wisteria, the yellow Virginia creeper, and bougainvillea of a dark, incandescent pink." Anne Rice, The Witching Hour

I believe that she took liberties in describing the Mayfair house and it is actually a combination of both her home and the house she could see from her window. Writers write what they know, after all. And her descriptions of this hauntingly beautiful city are, in my opinion, some of the most romantic, spot on descriptions around.

"Always he paused at the largest tree that had lifted the iron fence with its bulbous roots. He could not have gotten his arms around the trunk of it." Anne Rice, The Witching Hour

I thought this tree was interesting. One of the amazing, ancient oaks. It looks like the foot of a giant. And it is a giant! If these trees could talk, I wonder what they would say?

I think this one would say, "Oh my aching foot!"