Tuesday, September 23, 2014
For the Longest Time
So, I have been on a Billy Joel kick lately. I don't know what possessed me to type him into my Spotify account, but I did. It drew me back. Reminded of a vivid childhood that included creativity and dinosaurs and homemade newspapers. (Mary always won the trip to Hawaii, by the way.)
I had a Mary and Judy. They raised us, with the help of our parents, but they put a huge mark on what my brother C and I would become. Creativity and a sense of passion and a will to buck against the standard issue. Maybe that was not their intention, ok, it was probably not their intention, but we all turned out to be creative, free thinkers. "I'm bored" wasn't something that was uttered a whole lot at M & J's house. If it was, I don't remember. We always had something to do. She had a pool, we had a coloring box, we had a computer, we had each other. It was a huge artist community for all those under 10. It was bliss.
The other night I was cooking dinner with my husband and I decided to play Billy Joel. I needed some of that music. I remember my Mary sitting at her kitchen table early in the morning listening to her Billy Joel albums and dancing. Not full out dancing, maybe more of a chair dance, but it is a vivid memory for me. She was happy and in her zone. I'm sure she had to amp herself up before a long day of taking care of little ones. She's the best.
I can't imagine having a different childhood that C and I had. My parents both worked and we needed somewhere to be to develop. Mary was our preschool and our after school care and our friend. She is still our friend. I love her with all my heart.
So, back to the other night. I was cooking dinner for Calico Jack and myself and we were having a great time jamming out to the musing and creating a delicious meal. Then a song came on and I lost it. I was drawn back to Mary's house. I melted. I was sad and happy and sad and happy. I don't know how else to describe it. Through tears I finished dinner, but I feel like I ruined my husband's night. You can't go back, but you can remember.
Happy tears, that's what they were. Happy and Sad because Judy is no longer with us. I am sad about that, very sad. But that doesn't compare to what my Mary is probably feeling. I send her prayers and happiness and happy memories.
Thank you, my Mary, for giving me such a happy childhood. And thank you for always being a part of my (our) lives. You are so special and I love you to the moon and back.
Now back to the music! How about some "Uptown Girl" and "Piano Man", and any other that you desire. I'll hit play, just tell me when.
Monday, August 25, 2014
School Daze
A friend of mine posed a question on Facebook today: Who was your favorite elementary school teacher/year? Everyone commented stating how they loved Ms. So and So and why. I racked my brain, trying to think of what my teachers' names were, let alone which year was my favorite.
The thing is, I don't remember elementary school. Period. It's a blank slate. I've got nothin' except for one time one of the boys in my class made me cry. I know what school I went to and I know some of the people I attended class with because I was in school with them up through high school. However, I can not recall anything from elementary school.
Does that make me a freak? Should I be worried? I have a few ideas as to why this is so, but they are just ideas and not worth sharing with anyone. It makes me a little angry. Everyone is so happy with all their happy memories of these super inspiring teachers that made him/her feel special and I have a foggy blankness. Was I the smelly kid? The weird kid (ok, yes I was probably the weird kid). I remember not having a lot of actual friends in school.
The point I'm trying to make is that I'm glad I'm past that age. I am glad I am grown enough that I don't have to go to school and I can surround myself with people who love and support me.
I hope your children are happy with school. I hope they do not encounter bullies and they like their teachers and they make memories that they will actually be able to remember 25 years after the fact.
Yay for school because knowledge IS power. It just makes it better when you can remember.
For something happy and inspiring, please watch this. (You know, to end on a positive note!)
The thing is, I don't remember elementary school. Period. It's a blank slate. I've got nothin' except for one time one of the boys in my class made me cry. I know what school I went to and I know some of the people I attended class with because I was in school with them up through high school. However, I can not recall anything from elementary school.
Does that make me a freak? Should I be worried? I have a few ideas as to why this is so, but they are just ideas and not worth sharing with anyone. It makes me a little angry. Everyone is so happy with all their happy memories of these super inspiring teachers that made him/her feel special and I have a foggy blankness. Was I the smelly kid? The weird kid (ok, yes I was probably the weird kid). I remember not having a lot of actual friends in school.
The point I'm trying to make is that I'm glad I'm past that age. I am glad I am grown enough that I don't have to go to school and I can surround myself with people who love and support me.
I hope your children are happy with school. I hope they do not encounter bullies and they like their teachers and they make memories that they will actually be able to remember 25 years after the fact.
Yay for school because knowledge IS power. It just makes it better when you can remember.
For something happy and inspiring, please watch this. (You know, to end on a positive note!)
Friday, August 8, 2014
Rooster Fridays
As some of you may know, Calico Jack and I have recently acquired a new pet. His name is Señor Edgar Hernandez Riggs McMillan Williams. We call him Señor Ed. He is what's known as a gallo, or rooster (in English).
You see, Señor Ed came to us by way of Calico Jack's Grandma Riggs. (May she rest in peace. XO) We consider it an honor to have Señor Ed in our home, however, he needed to meet our other fur baby Oliver.
The following is evidence of the first meeting between Señor Ed and Oliver. I am presenting this evidence so that everyone will know that it was Oliver who attacked first.
Señor Ed hopped on the kitchen table, fully expecting to have a nice visit with his new sibling, Oliver. He was excited to finally get to meet the cat because Calico Jack and I were biding our time until we could properly control the environment in which they were meeting.
Initially, Oliver and Señor Ed just smelled each other. Calico Jack and I were both really excited that this initial meeting was going so well. Everyone was behaving and appeared to just be curious about one another.
Then, Oliver started to get nosy He was smelling the back of Señor Ed's head and body. As could be expected, Señor Ed was a little taken aback by this violation of his personal space.
Oliver then informed us that Señor Ed had passed his inspection and he would allow him to live in our house. Of course, that decision was not really up for debate, but it was nice to know that Oliver approved.
That's when all hell broke lose. Oliver ran back to Señor Ed and bit him on the top of his head! At that point we helped Señor Ed back to his perch to recover from this viscous cat attack. He was quite shaken and he asked for a Valium. I couldn't blame him for being nervous and scared!
When we turned around, we found Oliver snoozing, content with his taste of chicken. This barbarian cat has no shame! I always knew he was a little shady...
By the time we were ready to go to bed, we checked in on Señor Ed. We found him saying his rosary and asking for protection from the hairy beast that he was now having to live with. Poor Señor Ed. I will be keeping a close eye so that he is safe in our home.
THE END
P.S. Stay tuned for next week when Señor Edgar Williams shows you one of the many attractions of New Orleans. I think it will be good for him to get out of the house away from the barbarian cat!
P.P.S. Please excuse the spacing of the pictures - I am working out the kinks of that!
Thursday, August 7, 2014
The Past is the Past
I have been going through my old posts from years ago on this blog and I realized that I was all over the place with what I was writing. For those of you who used to read me and have started reading me again, I thank you for not giving up on me. Seriously, thank you for giving me another shot. A lot of what I wrote before, which I have subsequently taken down because no one should relive that, simply doesn't make sense. I am reading these posts that I kind of remember writing and I read really manic.
You see, what happened was I was sick and I didn't know it. It took a major incident for me to realize I was sick and to start on this path that I have now been on for 3 years and counting. Am I cured? No. Will I ever be cured? No. But I am better equipped to handle life's ups and downs. I have great care and an even better support system helping make sure that I stay on the right path. I think some people might think that I am weak because I must have this kind of support, but I like to think that I have this support because I'm loved. All you need is love, right? Love and lots of medicine (in my case) and love.
I lost a lot of friends because of this illness. They simply walked away without taking a second look back. That's on them and proved to me finally that they were never really my friend in the first place. For those of you who stuck around, you're the good ones. Am I happy all the time now? No. Who is, though? It has gotten easier to deal with my condition the longer I pushed through the cobwebs in my mind and I'm going to continue to push. I have to. Don't we all?
What I went through was scary and I wish I could have run away from it, snapped my fingers and made it disappear, but that is not how things work in my particular situation.
I don't wish my condition on my worst enemy. It is a terrifying place in which to find yourself. Because of my experience with my condition, I have been humbled. Humility is a great attribute to have, in my opinion.
It is hard for me to read my older posts when my illness was gaining momentum, but it is nice to look back in order to realize how far I have come. One thing has remained constant for me, and that is I really enjoy writing. I was radio silent for a long time because I didn't know how to say what I wanted to say. I had lost my voice. It feels like now is a great time to start over. New look, new posts, hopefully new friends in the blogosphere, and a sense of joy for what I am writing about.
So, thank you. Thank you for coming back or just starting reading this humble blog. It means a great deal to me and I promise that I am writing from an honest place in my heart.
You see, what happened was I was sick and I didn't know it. It took a major incident for me to realize I was sick and to start on this path that I have now been on for 3 years and counting. Am I cured? No. Will I ever be cured? No. But I am better equipped to handle life's ups and downs. I have great care and an even better support system helping make sure that I stay on the right path. I think some people might think that I am weak because I must have this kind of support, but I like to think that I have this support because I'm loved. All you need is love, right? Love and lots of medicine (in my case) and love.
I lost a lot of friends because of this illness. They simply walked away without taking a second look back. That's on them and proved to me finally that they were never really my friend in the first place. For those of you who stuck around, you're the good ones. Am I happy all the time now? No. Who is, though? It has gotten easier to deal with my condition the longer I pushed through the cobwebs in my mind and I'm going to continue to push. I have to. Don't we all?
What I went through was scary and I wish I could have run away from it, snapped my fingers and made it disappear, but that is not how things work in my particular situation.
I don't wish my condition on my worst enemy. It is a terrifying place in which to find yourself. Because of my experience with my condition, I have been humbled. Humility is a great attribute to have, in my opinion.
It is hard for me to read my older posts when my illness was gaining momentum, but it is nice to look back in order to realize how far I have come. One thing has remained constant for me, and that is I really enjoy writing. I was radio silent for a long time because I didn't know how to say what I wanted to say. I had lost my voice. It feels like now is a great time to start over. New look, new posts, hopefully new friends in the blogosphere, and a sense of joy for what I am writing about.
So, thank you. Thank you for coming back or just starting reading this humble blog. It means a great deal to me and I promise that I am writing from an honest place in my heart.
Labels:
bipolar,
hope,
mental illness,
renew
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
The Most Influential Book I've Ever Read
| Photo from Wikipedia.com |
I read this book for the first time as a sophomore in high school. I had a wonderful teacher in English that year (racking my brain to remember his name) who was a football coach and an English teacher. That in itself wasn't the norm for me. Most coach teachers were in charge of Social Studies. Anyway, I remember really breaking this book down and talking about the many facets of the meaning of this book. It includes all kinds of themes in it: racism in the South, coming of age, the creepy, secretive neighbor down the street, kindness, and generous friendship. Our teacher allowed us to really debate these themes and I had my first taste of what it was like to learn in college.
First off, racism in the South. I can now officially say I live in the Deep South and I am still fascinated with the divide between races here. I didn't really experience that growing up in Texas, while it is a Southern state, I wouldn't consider it the Deep South. To think that only a few short years earlier our country had such a divide between the races seems appalling and unjust, but the proof is in the history lessons. The way Atticus so boldly represents Tom Robinson is admirable, especially given the time. I loved Atticus. I loved the name Atticus. I loved what Atticus stood for. He was a good man. He fought hard for the underdog! (Side note: in college I had a cat I named Atticus!)
The coming of age aspect was melancholy for me. I suppose there comes a time in every young child's life where they realize they are no longer a child and must put away their toys and start acting like a grown up. I particularly like how Scout had to have tea with the "ladies" of the neighborhood and how she always wanted to be out playing with her friend Dill. Growing up sucks, but everyone gets older...
And then there is Boo Radley. Ahh, Boo! Probably one of the kindest (next to Atticus) and mysterious persons in the entire book. So many rumors swirl around him and ultimately he turns out to be a reclusive guy who generally looks out for those kids. I particularly like when he puts the blanket over Scout's shoulders during the fire and she doesn't realize until later it was him. I had a Boo Radley on my street growing up. His name was Ronald and we called him Ronald McDonald (yeah, we were jerks). I believe he actually had Downs Syndrome but his mom never would let him play with us, therefore creating a mystery around his presence.
Ultimately this book is about justice, kindness and friendship. Being kind to others, doing the right thing for the innocent, and keeping your friends close. Scout and Dill are said to be based on Harper Lee's and Truman Capote's friendship. I actually just learned that bit of interesting history fairly recently. Dill was ever curious and always egging Scout on to do the craziest of shenanigans, and she would!
One of my most vivid memories of reading this book in class with that English teacher is when some stupid jock mouthed off with some racist remark and I spoke up with how I didn't agree with him. My teacher asked me to expand on what I was saying and then said, "Well, it just looks like we have a racist in our class". Justice for the underdog, right there!
I absolutely adore this book and have read it many times, but I actually don't own a copy of it myself. I need to go buy myself a copy so I can read it a couple hundred more times. It definitely makes my monkey heart go a-flutter!
What is YOUR most influential book you have ever read? Tell me in the comments!
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Red Lipstick & Feeling Pretty
I used to wear red lipstick all the time. Perhaps it was the dancer in me, but I really liked red lipstick. Then, something changed. I can't place my finger on it, why I stopped wearing red lipstick, but I just stopped. Then, something happened when I started feeling the feels again. I realized I wanted to be THAT girl again - the girl that wears red lipstick.
So, my very generous Mother-in-Law took me to Sephora and purchased a shiny new tube of red lipstick. It has always put a spring in my step and now I have it back in my life! I'm still a little afraid to wear it during the daytime, as it is quite bright, but I know that eventually I'll just say "who cares what others think?" and I'll put on my red lipstick during the daytime.
Bold is beautiful and you shouldn't be afraid to rock out your favorite accessory! And anyone's best accessory is their smile. Let it shine, make it bright, and show those pearly whites!
Thank you Universe for great Mother-in-Laws and thank you for red lipstick and giving me yet another day to smile and be happy!
This particular post is brought to you as part of the Curvy Girl Guide Community and Brittany's August 2014 prompts.
So, my very generous Mother-in-Law took me to Sephora and purchased a shiny new tube of red lipstick. It has always put a spring in my step and now I have it back in my life! I'm still a little afraid to wear it during the daytime, as it is quite bright, but I know that eventually I'll just say "who cares what others think?" and I'll put on my red lipstick during the daytime.
Bold is beautiful and you shouldn't be afraid to rock out your favorite accessory! And anyone's best accessory is their smile. Let it shine, make it bright, and show those pearly whites!
Thank you Universe for great Mother-in-Laws and thank you for red lipstick and giving me yet another day to smile and be happy!
This particular post is brought to you as part of the Curvy Girl Guide Community and Brittany's August 2014 prompts.
Monday, August 4, 2014
Fear of Clowns
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| flickr.com |
It's a thing. Seriously, it's a condition called Coulrophobia. My sister Jen suffers from this condition, which I can understand because - CLOWNS WILL EAT YOU! Did you ever have a clown at your birthday party? I think we (my brother and I) might have had a clown one time at our birthday party, or someone else's party. I don't know, maybe I'm making that memory up, but still. I have to side with Jen on this.
There are all kinds of clowns: nice clowns, scary clowns, and demonic clowns. But don't you have to be a little demonic to be a clown? Or, perhaps a little sad and you have lost your way. "Here are some balloon animals, kids! Pay no attention to my razor sharp teeth! Plus, I'm probably half drunk on whiskey because, well, I'm a clown and to get through this party gig, I have to down SOMETHING to hide the pain of being a clown!"
I don't think anyone grows up and wants to be a clown. Okay, that's not entirely true, as I am sure some people actually want to run away and join the circus. There are clowns at the circus, but they aren't quite as scary as some other clowns that I have seen. Wouldn't you eventually want to be a trapeze artist? Plus, how do they fit so many people in their tiny car?!?
There is even a Clown Hotel! (I included the Yelp.com link as they don't actually have their own website.) Apparently it is haunted by hundreds of dead clowns. Umm....yeah, I don't think I'll be road trippin' it with Jen to the Clown Hotel any time soon. Unless I could revive her from her shock, but I'm no doctor! Jen is so afraid of clowns that her personal hell would be inhabited by clowns. But, she's a good person. No clown hell for her!
Here's to all the coulrophobes! May you never encounter a clown and may you absolutely never stay in the Clown Motel! Also, stay away from circuses - especially if there are clowns involved.
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| www.whyIfearclowns.com |
Labels:
Clown Motel,
Clowns,
Clowns are Scary,
Coulrophobia,
Humor
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Mary, Mary, Quite Contrary, How Does Your Garden Grow?
Every neighborhood has at least one.
We live in a city where the wild things grow. The amount of plants and flowers and moss and crazy mushrooms grow with little effort is astounding. Which is why this particular house makes me shake my head. You see, the individual that lives at this particular house only plants silk flowers. They are quite colorful and if you are just driving by the house, you might not notice that the flowers are fake. All you would see is the array of colors and types of flowers. Get up close and it's a different story.
I can understand the upkeep of the fake flowers - just swap them out when they get faded, no big deal. But in a city where anything grows, it seems like a waste of plastic. Plus, it kind of reminds me of the crazy cat ladies out there. This individual would be called the crazy fake plant lady. Their gardening sense is all over the place!
To each his own I suppose. Personally, I prefer the real thing...
New Look
So, I decided to change things up around here. I've had the same look for years and I decided since I'm giving this another go, I should start fresh with everything.
New is good!
New is good!
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Let's Try This Again
Hi there! Remember me? I remember you. You were my confidantes and my companions and this blog served as my platform for expressing all the things that needed to be expressed when I (we) first started this adventure in the Big Easy. So much has happened and in turn, so much has changed. My husband Calico Jack and I are older and wiser and older...and more adjusted to life in this beautiful city. It has been hard and lovely and really, so much has changed. Did I mention that?
So, here I am. Giving this blog another go. I'm starting a revolution in my life in which I choose to be closer to my old self - reclaiming what has been lost. I lost all emotion and feeling for a good, long time. I guess you could say I lost my mojo - my magic. I felt like I had magic in my life and then all the pieces came falling down due to a major health crisis in my life. It changed everything for me because the bottom fell out. Every day since then has been a struggle in reclaiming who I used to be. I became a zombie, drugged out and emotionless. But, things have been adjusted and I'm feeling the "feels" again. It is, at times, scary. To have emotions again feels foreign. I laughed hard and loud the other day and then thought I wasn't supposed to be laughing like that because, well, what if I was going down that rabbit hole again? What if it was the beginning of that downward spiral? But it wasn't. It's okay to laugh, and boy, does it feel good.
On the flip side of being happy and laughing, I also feel sad. That isn't a bad thing. It's a normal existence to have an array of emotions. That is the human condition. You can't be manic all the time and you can't be depressed all the time, either. There is a happy medium that everyone must try to maintain. Sometimes it is hard and sometimes it is easy and that is okay. I'm okay. So are you.
So, thank you for coming back and reading. May we pick up where we left off, like good old friends, and may it feel like we didn't miss a beat. I'm committed to writing again and keeping an accurate account of what it means to live in an ancient city like New Orleans and deal with the highs and lows of life. I am strong - scary strong. And I'm feeling more like my old self. Huzzah!
So, here is day one. One of many days, and many words to be written, and thoughts expressed. Feeling the "feels" again feels good. Thanks for stopping by to read my rambling thoughts - may we chat again tomorrow?
Until then...
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Pogo Sticks & Roller Skates
Every morning I hear "co-chonk, co-chonk, co-chonk"! It's the neighbor's little boy riding his pogo stick as he is waiting for his mom to come out of the house and take him to school. I think he has excessive energy and needs to work some things out before he goes to school. Or, he just really loves his pogo stick.
I never had a pogo stick when I was a child. It was probably for the best, as I would have probably cracked my head open trying to finagle the ways in which to achieve proper pogo-sticking.
It always makes me smile hearing him "co-chonking" in the mornings. It assures me that he is still around and is healthy and happy.
His sister prefers her roller skates. She has been practicing her roller skating skills for the past couple of days. I had a pair of roller skates and I would skate all around the neighborhood. I would even do the trick of holding a friend's hands while they were on their skates and swirling around in a circle. Great fun! I feel bad for pogo stick boy's sister because she doesn't exactly have the smoothest of sidewalks to skate down. We technically live in swamp land and that makes the sidewalks shift, creating bumps in her road to exhilaration. She is getting better each day she practices and it's fun to watch her figure out how to stop, turn around, and speed away down the street.
Oh the joys of being little. You don't have a care in the world except for waiting for the next time you get to play with your new toy. It is comforting to see these children playing with these "archaic" toys, rather than staying inside on the couch playing video games. Not that playing video games is a bad thing.
I just think that Calico Jack and I grew up in a simpler time where our moms made us go outside and play. When the sun was going down, our moms would yell for us: "Come home! Time for dinner!", and we would have worked out most of our super-child energy so that we would come home, eat, take a bath, and be ready for bed. Plus you got your major workout in for the day since you ran around and played for most of the evening.
When I see and hear the kids in the neighborhood playing, it kind of feels like I'm living in a 1960s neighborhood. It's nice to see that parents haven't forgotten the joys of a stick with a spring or shoes with wheels. Try jumping around for a little bit and see if you don't have a smile on your face. I dare ya'!
Playing is fun. Don't forget to play, no matter if you are 6 or 60. It keeps you young.
xo
I never had a pogo stick when I was a child. It was probably for the best, as I would have probably cracked my head open trying to finagle the ways in which to achieve proper pogo-sticking.
It always makes me smile hearing him "co-chonking" in the mornings. It assures me that he is still around and is healthy and happy.
His sister prefers her roller skates. She has been practicing her roller skating skills for the past couple of days. I had a pair of roller skates and I would skate all around the neighborhood. I would even do the trick of holding a friend's hands while they were on their skates and swirling around in a circle. Great fun! I feel bad for pogo stick boy's sister because she doesn't exactly have the smoothest of sidewalks to skate down. We technically live in swamp land and that makes the sidewalks shift, creating bumps in her road to exhilaration. She is getting better each day she practices and it's fun to watch her figure out how to stop, turn around, and speed away down the street.
Oh the joys of being little. You don't have a care in the world except for waiting for the next time you get to play with your new toy. It is comforting to see these children playing with these "archaic" toys, rather than staying inside on the couch playing video games. Not that playing video games is a bad thing.
I just think that Calico Jack and I grew up in a simpler time where our moms made us go outside and play. When the sun was going down, our moms would yell for us: "Come home! Time for dinner!", and we would have worked out most of our super-child energy so that we would come home, eat, take a bath, and be ready for bed. Plus you got your major workout in for the day since you ran around and played for most of the evening.
When I see and hear the kids in the neighborhood playing, it kind of feels like I'm living in a 1960s neighborhood. It's nice to see that parents haven't forgotten the joys of a stick with a spring or shoes with wheels. Try jumping around for a little bit and see if you don't have a smile on your face. I dare ya'!
Playing is fun. Don't forget to play, no matter if you are 6 or 60. It keeps you young.
xo
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Dreams and Nightmares
So, I had crazy dreams last night. Perhaps it was the pickle I ate before bed. I dunno. Anyway, I had this terrible dream that I somehow was burned on the left side of my body. My arm and my neck and my back. I think I was wearing a wedding dress and I caught fire and had to drop and roll to put it out. Then I was left with these huge blisters that I put Cetaphil on, and it made it feel better. Totally not what you would do if you had actually had been burned. I was with my mom and my dad and my family and they kind of didn't really pay attention to the fact that I had been burned. Very odd.
That was always one of my biggest fears as a child. I thought that our house was going to catch on fire and I would always make my dad come in and show me how to get out of our house in case that happened. I am sure it was very tiring for him to have to come in and reassure me, but I was still terrified about that happening.
My dreams then turned into me going to a symphony conference and I was staying with this very odd group of people at this house very far away from the conference. The dream started out with me staying with these people and really wasn't about a symphony conference. The girls were really snarky and it felt like I was living in this big frat house. At some point Dave Grohl showed up and was one of the people staying in the house. Didn't make sense. Then I ended up at the symphony conference, which was taking place in a South American country, and I had to drive (with my mom) to the location and walk. She disappeared in the dream at that point and then the conference was over. I was walking out of the conference and it was kind of like walking off a cruise ship when the cruise is over. Except there were all these shops and I ended up walking through a Tiffany's store. Lots of diamonds and pearls.
After I had walked through the Tiffany's, I walked out this big warehouse part of the building and ended up running into one of my friends who was breaking down a musical set. I tried to hug her, but she was dirty from working and didn't want to dirty up the dress I was wearing. Then we went out to this open courtyard area and sat down to have coffee. While we were having coffee, we watched this big blue bird that was the size of a dinosaur attack smaller birds and eat them. I then realized it was time to go and had to figure out where I had parked the car and start driving a long way (like 3 hours) to get to the airport that I had flown in from. Then I woke up.
I need to stop eating pickles before bed.
xo
That was always one of my biggest fears as a child. I thought that our house was going to catch on fire and I would always make my dad come in and show me how to get out of our house in case that happened. I am sure it was very tiring for him to have to come in and reassure me, but I was still terrified about that happening.
My dreams then turned into me going to a symphony conference and I was staying with this very odd group of people at this house very far away from the conference. The dream started out with me staying with these people and really wasn't about a symphony conference. The girls were really snarky and it felt like I was living in this big frat house. At some point Dave Grohl showed up and was one of the people staying in the house. Didn't make sense. Then I ended up at the symphony conference, which was taking place in a South American country, and I had to drive (with my mom) to the location and walk. She disappeared in the dream at that point and then the conference was over. I was walking out of the conference and it was kind of like walking off a cruise ship when the cruise is over. Except there were all these shops and I ended up walking through a Tiffany's store. Lots of diamonds and pearls.
After I had walked through the Tiffany's, I walked out this big warehouse part of the building and ended up running into one of my friends who was breaking down a musical set. I tried to hug her, but she was dirty from working and didn't want to dirty up the dress I was wearing. Then we went out to this open courtyard area and sat down to have coffee. While we were having coffee, we watched this big blue bird that was the size of a dinosaur attack smaller birds and eat them. I then realized it was time to go and had to figure out where I had parked the car and start driving a long way (like 3 hours) to get to the airport that I had flown in from. Then I woke up.
I need to stop eating pickles before bed.
xo
Friday, March 22, 2013
Sounds of the City
We live in New Orleans (duh). It's on the Mississippi River and we are surrounded by all these different sounds and sights and smells. Calico Jack and I were talking last night while we were making dinner and we heard police sirens blaring a couple of blocks over. He made the comment that it was comforting to hear those sounds and I agreed. There is a police station just blocks from our house and this is not an uncommon sound. Now while I know that police sirens are not necessarily a comforting sound, it goes along with the cacophony of noises that we hear on a daily basis and makes us feel at home.
I don't know if I could move back to suburbia again because I have become too accustomed to the sounds of a big city. We have the wonderful church bells that chime every hour and play hymns. We have the sounds of the boats on the water. We even have the sounds of the street car. And of course, people playing live music at the bar down the street. It all comes together to make a beautiful symphony of our small space in the world.
I think my favorite sound that I hear every day has to be the church bells. There is a particular hymn that they play sometimes that sounds like a demented version of the "Itsy Bitsy Spider". I know it probably doesn't sound that way to most people, but I was having a moment a while back and I could have sworn they were playing the "Itsy Bitsy Spider". Except that they aren't. They are playing a hymn, but I couldn't tell you what hymn because I have no idea. I just know it's like Tim Burton's version of that children's tune. I joke to Calico Jack that they are playing it again every time I hear it. He just looks at me and rolls his eyes. :)
When we lived in Dallas, TX, the apartment that we lived in had a big pond right across from our balcony. It was pretty. At night time there would be the sounds of the bullfrogs croaking their little froggy croak. It drove Oliver CRAZY and he would take his little kitty paws and beat on the porch door. I think he wanted to go eat the frogs, or perhaps he was trying to make them be quiet. It never worked and he never had the opportunity to go and catch a frog. Thank goodness because he would have been foaming at the mouth from that experience.
I can't imagine not being able to hear. Right now, there are workman at the house (still) and they are hammering away and sawing things and doing the work that they do. I have to confess this is NOT my favorite sound of the city, but they have a job to do and so I try to block it out as best I can. It's not like they work much past 5 o'clock. The walls are thin though, so it's hard not to hear every movement they make.
What are some of your favorite sounds about where you live? Or do you like that things are quiet? Do tell!
xo
I don't know if I could move back to suburbia again because I have become too accustomed to the sounds of a big city. We have the wonderful church bells that chime every hour and play hymns. We have the sounds of the boats on the water. We even have the sounds of the street car. And of course, people playing live music at the bar down the street. It all comes together to make a beautiful symphony of our small space in the world.
I think my favorite sound that I hear every day has to be the church bells. There is a particular hymn that they play sometimes that sounds like a demented version of the "Itsy Bitsy Spider". I know it probably doesn't sound that way to most people, but I was having a moment a while back and I could have sworn they were playing the "Itsy Bitsy Spider". Except that they aren't. They are playing a hymn, but I couldn't tell you what hymn because I have no idea. I just know it's like Tim Burton's version of that children's tune. I joke to Calico Jack that they are playing it again every time I hear it. He just looks at me and rolls his eyes. :)
When we lived in Dallas, TX, the apartment that we lived in had a big pond right across from our balcony. It was pretty. At night time there would be the sounds of the bullfrogs croaking their little froggy croak. It drove Oliver CRAZY and he would take his little kitty paws and beat on the porch door. I think he wanted to go eat the frogs, or perhaps he was trying to make them be quiet. It never worked and he never had the opportunity to go and catch a frog. Thank goodness because he would have been foaming at the mouth from that experience.
I can't imagine not being able to hear. Right now, there are workman at the house (still) and they are hammering away and sawing things and doing the work that they do. I have to confess this is NOT my favorite sound of the city, but they have a job to do and so I try to block it out as best I can. It's not like they work much past 5 o'clock. The walls are thin though, so it's hard not to hear every movement they make.
What are some of your favorite sounds about where you live? Or do you like that things are quiet? Do tell!
xo
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Life and Such
I haven't blogged in quite some time. After some encouragement from a friend, I have decided to come back to the old blog and give it a go - again. We'll see how this works out.
Things lately have been kind of dull. I am not working right now, but I'm in the process of finding a job. I have to say, praise for all the stay at home ladies in the world, but I am finding it tedious and boring. I just have to find some employer willing to say yes to me working there. The economy is still in the gutter, so it is proving difficult to even get an interview.
I had an interview a couple of weeks ago and I thought it went pretty well. I was one of four out of 60 applicants that actually got a phone interview. I even moved onto the next round of interviews and felt pretty confident about what had gone down - then I got the courteous "Thank you for trying, but we don't want you" letter. *Sigh* Better luck next time.
There has been a lot of work going on around our house these days. Our landlord hired a new contractor to fix things up - why she hired someone NEW is beyond my grasp of things, perhaps the old guy was charging too much money. Anyway, they have been focusing on the two other "apartments" in the house we live in and haven't paid us any mind. I would really like a new floor in my kitchen and in my bathroom, but I don't think that is a top priority in my landlord's book. Who knows, maybe we'll actually get something as awesome as that in the coming months. A girl can hope, right?
Calico Jack has been working his derriere off at the hospital. He is in charge of making all the medicine for the babies and children, which means super small doses of things and compounding medicine (which means using a mortar and pestle) to make all these concoctions that I have no understanding of. He had originally decided to not tell me about his day with the kiddos because hearing the stories about how upset parents were about their sick child was making me cry. I guess it has to do with my struggles with my monkey heart and thinking about what MY parents went through when I was so sick.
They are threatening to cut down the giant 70+ year old oak tree that is outside our front door. I am planning on making a huge scene out of things and may even go strap myself to the tree to keep them from cutting it down. If you see a crazy red-head on the news refusing to let people do their job, it's probably me hugging the tree. Send reinforcements so that I can get out of jail.
And on that note, I'll let you get on with your important lives. Not much going on here - just thought I'd update everyone on the progress of things. Hope everyone is well!
xoxo
Sunday, October 7, 2012
October: Black Cats & Superstitions
October is a time for spookiness and superstitions. I know that I always get excited during this time of year and like hearing ghost stories and the history of what we know as superstitions in our society. Ghost stories aside, superstitions can come from something very mundane and common place to a sign of the times in which these superstitions were created. It is always interesting to learn the history of said superstitions and I'm sure you will find it interesting on some level to hear the beginnings of what are common practices in many of our daily lives.
Black Cats
Starting off, I have a black cat. His name is Oliver and he is quite a character. He likes to meow a lot and loves his food and pets. I do not consider him unlucky. However, in many societies, black cats are considered unlucky. If a black cat crosses your path, it is sure to bring bad luck or even death. Pilgrims brought with them deep suspicions of anything deemed o the devil and viewed a black cat as a companion or familiar to witches. This led to people killing black cats in their hunt for witches and the unintended consequences of spreading disease such as the Bubonic Plague which was spread by rodents. Another theory is that Satan turned himself into a black cat when conversing with witches.
On the other hand, some societies deem black cats as lucky. Japan, Great Britain, and Ireland believes that black cats bring good luck. Scotland believes that a black cat will bring about prosperity. And, if a lady possesses a black cat, she will be blessed with many suitors.
Overall, a cat is a cat. It makes me nervous during this time of year because there are rumors that people adopt black cats during this time in order to torture them for satanic rituals. Many shelters do not allow black cats to be adopted during the month of October for this reason. I know I make sure my fur baby is safe during this month because I don't want anything happening to him.
Walking Under a Ladder
Of course walking under a ladder is unsafe. Especially if there is someone on said ladder. You may knock that person off and who wants that sort of karma? This belief comes from not only wanting to protect your carpenter/house painter, but also from the belief that a ladder leaning up against a wall forms a triangle or "trinity" sign. To break the trinity would indeed be blasphemous and no one wants to go against God.
Breaking a Mirror
If you break a mirror, expect 7 years of bad luck, right? At least that is what you have heard. According to the folklore, mirrors don't just reflect our images, they hold bits of your soul. If you shatter that mirror, you soul is also considered shattered. Ooops! People in the American South also would cover mirrors when someone would die in order to make sure their soul was not trapped in a mirror.
As a way to combat a broken mirror, one can touch a piece of the mirror to a tombstone or grind up the pieces into powder. Another way to combat the bad luck is to gather the pieces and place in a river that is flowing to the south. Mississippi River, anyone?
Knocking on Wood
I knock on wood all the time. It's just something that I do when I am afraid that I might bring ill will to myself or others that I care about. According to legend, the association of knocking on wood may come from a fixation on good spirits in trees or the association with the Christian cross. Like phrases are found in many different languages and suggest that the desire not to upset the Universe is very common.
Crossing Your Fingers
It is considered that any sign of the cross is a sign of good luck, dating back to early Christianity. That is why many people cross their fingers for good luck. These days, even saying the phrase "fingers crossed" gets the intended message across.
Throwing Salt
I'm sure you have seen or actually done this yourself. Someone spills salt and then promptly throws it over his or her left shoulder. This dates back to early Christianity when salt was considered a commodity and spilling salt would be wasting money. It was also believed that the devil or "bad angel" rested on your left shoulder and you would be throwing salt into their eyes so that they cannot see you clean up your mess. Looking closely at Leonardo di Vinci's painting "The Last Supper", you will notice that Judas has spilled the salt cellar over with his elbow. This is why spilled salt is associated with treachery and lies.
Stepping on Cracks
We all know this saying, "Step on a crack and you'll break your mother's back." But did you know it has roots during segregation and extreme prejudice? The saying originally goes, "Step on a crack and your mother will turn black", or that she will have a black baby. In another variation, if you stepped on a crack you would be chased by bears. Most kids figure out pretty quickly that people who step on cracks don't come home to dead mothers or get chased by bears (at least not very often).
All Saints Day
Here in Southern Louisiana, we celebrate All Saints Day. This day falls on November 1, and is considered the day to honor your dead family members. You will find families out at the cemeteries tending to their loved one's graves by white washing the tombstones and putting out fresh flowers and candles. In Mexico, this day is called Dia de los Muertos.
Cajun Traditions
Considering that I live in New Orleans, I thought I would include one amusing superstition. It is considered a bad omen if an alligator crawls under your house. In other words, impending death will follow for one of your loved ones. I told this superstition to Kev and he said, "Is the impending death from the alligator itself or another outside force?" I'm going to say that in most cases, the actual alligator was more of the threat.
I hope you enjoyed my list of common superstitions. What are some things that you are superstitious about? Is there anything that you learned that you were surprised about? Don't forget to participate in BlogFest 2012!
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Fixing It Up
Kev and I live in a house that was built in the 1920's. It's an olllllldddd house! That means that lots of things need to be repaired - like all the time. Our neighbors downstairs had their ceiling cave in because of flooding and now that they have had that fixed, the workers are working on the gutters outside.
I love the architecture of this old house. There are little details here and there that no one puts into building anymore. Or if they do, it will cost a bunch of money. We have transom windows above all the doors, which were used as natural air conditioning at one point in time. We have picture molding and a claw footed bathtub. I consider myself lucky that we have all these details in our home.
On the other side, the windows stick and we need a new kitchen floor (I've actually had mushrooms growing between my kitchen tile) and it seems like no matter how much you scrub, the place is never really clean. I guess that is what you get when you live in a house that was built in the '20s.
I can't complain too much because we are super close to the parade route for Mardi Gras and only blocks away from the street car line and some great shopping and eating on Magazine Street. A prime location with a few kinks here and there.
I consider us lucky to have such a neat apartment in the heart of all the action. What do you love about where you live?
xo
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
At the Market
So I went and "made groceries" today. For those who don't live in New Orleans, that means that I went to the grocery store. I had to pick up a few things so Kev and I don't starve for the next couple of days.
While I was there, I stopped at the fish counter to pick up some salmon. I'll call him the Fishmonger, because that is what his position is in actuality. He picked out a nice piece of salmon for me and weighed it and did all his proper fishmonger things and then proceeds to ask me how I prepare my salmon. I told him, "Herbs and butter and lemon". He then proceeds to tell me he only buys fresh fish because he is from Northern Louisiana.
I didn't know how to respond. You are telling me the "fresh" fish that I am buying is not fresh? I know it comes from way up north and that is why you have it on ice. I get that there are no salmon swimming in the Mississippi River, but come on! Seriously?!? I ended up saying something about being from Texas and still learning how to cook local fish properly.
Food is food and as long as it's not rotting, I'm going to eat it. Well, that may be a little over dramatic, but seriously? Was he trying to tell me something? Now I'm all paranoid about the delicious meal I'm supposed to cook tonight.
I think in actuality he was just trying to make conversation, but it made me feel uneasy. However, I am going forward with my plans on making sauteed zucchini and squash, rice, and baked salmon for tonight's dinner. I know it will make Kev happy and I know that the "fresh" fish I bought is not as fresh as the shrimp that was caught. However, I shall persevere!
My Baked Salmon Recipe:
1 lb fresh salmon
2 tbs Herbs de Provonce
Olive Oil or Butter
Salt/Pepper to taste
Lemon
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees, clean your salmon (you don't want scales, yo), place in a baking dish, add the Herbs de Provonce, salt and pepper, dice up your butter or drizzle with olive oil, slice the lemons and place on top of the fish.
Bake the fish about 35 - 45 minutes (depending on where you live and how "done" you like it, and take out of the oven when you can flake the fish with a fork. Enjoy!
Fish is good for you. Don't pay attention to silly fishmongers when they say silly things, unless they have better suggestions for you.
xo
Monday, August 20, 2012
The Ruby-Ness of it All
I love sparkles. Call me a four-year-old, but I love all things shiny. Perhaps I'm like a bird, but it brightens my day when I can look at something shiny and glittery and happy. It reminds me of being little and watching "The Wizard of Oz" and seeing those Ruby Slippers. Those are some amazing shoes - seriously. And what woman doesn't own at least one pair of red shoes to add an exclamation point to her outfit?
I read a post about loving New Orleans recently and it brought up the topic of glitter. I know most people think that glitter is the STD of the arts and crafts world but I just love it. I think it brings something extra to the plate when you are adorning something with love. Now please don't think that I dress in glitter and sparkles all the time because my wardrobe mainly consists of vintage broaches as my form of sparkle. But I do love me a sparkled Muses shoe caught during Mardi Gras.
I had the pleasure of going to Washington D.C. when I was pursuing my Master's Degree and I ended up at the Smithsonian and got to see an actual pair of the Ruby Slippers worn by Dorothy Gale (a.k.a. Judy Garland) while I was visiting the National Museum of American History. I never in my life thought that these shoes were covered in sequins. But, they are. That is how they managed to make them so sparkly on the sound stage with all those focused lights. I always thought they were bejeweled with at least rhinestones. The shoes are also covered with felt on the soles of the shoes, because Garland couldn't be clacking around during her dance sequences. At least that is my assumption.
Here in New Orleans, there are lots of people who love glitter. I came across a gentleman who glitters his front steps with brown paint and gold glitter. It adds an extra bit of glamor to his home and I can't blame him for doing it - it makes me happy and it makes his house fit into the "anything goes" attitude of the city's architecture. I'm not sure what it does for his resale value but that is between him and his realtor.
So, don't dog the Ruby Slipper and don't dog glitter. It may just make someone's day. After all, a nice black dress with red shoes is like an exclamation point on an outfit. And you will always receive many compliments on your style choice.
xo
Friday, August 17, 2012
Dream a Little Dream
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| Flaming June - Frederic, Lord Leighton |
I keep having a particular recurring theme in my dreams as of late. It started a couple of months ago - I am trying to finish up one of my educational degrees and I have enrolled in the last few hours of classes that I'm supposed to finish in order to graduate. I am attending all of my classes and doing what I am supposed to do to study, etc. but have only attended this one class once. The class that I attended once was taught by comedienne Jane Lynch and the only time I was there, we were reenacting scenes from Glee.
But ever since then, all my dreams have had a pressing theme that there is something that I must complete or I'm not going to finish. I had another one of those dreams last night - I was doing something with my family, completely unrelated, and I knew that there was something I was forgetting. It's at the end of the semester and since I only attended the class once, I knew I was going to fail. That is the overall theme - I neglected something I had signed up to do and I ignored it and now I am going to fail. I can't seem to shake that feeling of "uh-oh".
So calling all dream experts - why the heck do I keep dreaming about this pressing thing that I have ignored? I can think of a couple of reasons, but it shouldn't keep bothering me so much. I attended a class with Jane Lynch in my dreams - kind of funny when you think about it, but now I am not going to graduate because I didn't complete her class. By the way, I am not currently enrolled in school nor do I plan on going back any time soon. I have completed all my educational goals and have the pieces of paper to prove it.
Here I stand, on the edge of a cliff, ready to take off and something is holding me back. That is my interpretation, I just have to figure out what that thing is that is holding me back.
Do you have odd and/or recurring dreams? Do you pay much mind to your dreams? What are some of your examples? I find dreams fascinating because you can fly through a ton of stuff in a matter of minutes and your brain is like, "Whoa!" It is our body's way of helping you process information that is perceived throughout our days - at least that is my opinion.
I have a feeling that eventually I'll complete that last credit hour class - somehow. I just have to will my mind to do so.
xo
Michael Kiwanuka - Home Again
Labels:
Dreams,
Glee,
Home Again,
Hope,
Jane Lynch,
Michael Kiwanuka,
Recurring Dreams
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