Melancholy and the infinite birthday

See how I date myself in the title? I don't mean to be so misanthropic today, but my locale and the weather are converging in such a way that is causing asperity. I am also trying to raise my eruditeness for the GRE, in case you were not cognizant of that fact.

Things would be enthralling overall, except for Satan decided to rear her BPD last night(its timing in a normal world being anachronistic), in order to remind me why I find her so odious. The broken record of greatest hits includes: you are so ungrateful, you are only nice when you want something, you don't appreciate me, you don't jump to support me, why do you always take her side. I am nonplussed at the fact that she didn't bring back the classic "I should have drowned you at birth". Apparently the retiring of that gold record was due to her brief flirtation with psychiatry. She substituted hot new tracks such as "complete strangers treat me better than my own family" and my own personal top of the charts (it has a nice beat and you can really dance to it): "I would rather live in a tent in our vacant lot than move in to your house". So Happy Freakin' Birthday to me. I think I liked it better when she just "forgot" it completely.

But in an effort to be benevolent: I am so very grateful for a supportive partner who is *thisclose* to opening a can of whoop ass. I am also beholden to my friends and adopted family for also being supportive and caring and understanding and for offering refuge. I am happy that there are people out there who see my for my accomplishments and believe I have self-worth. I love that I have flowers on my desk delivered to the front desk with a snarky (in a good way) card, ducklings that have been conspiratorially whispering about plans for today, reservations at a fabulous restaurant for dinner and besties to share it with, a FB wall full of good cheer, and (most importantly) an escape plan. Far away places are calling, and I will get there and I will make it arduous for turgid borderlines to comfortably visit. I am done with the drama and the bs. D-O-N-E. Perhaps I should visit Bass Pro this afternoon and buy a tent as a parting gift.

Cameron: "You really didn't know?
House: "No and frankly i am angry. Of course I'd know better when I know what were talking about."
Cameron:"Your birthday"
House:"Oh normally I would put on a festive hat and celebrate the fact that the earth has circled around the sun on more time. I really didn't think it was going to make it this year but darn if it wasn't for the little planet that could all over again.
House: [To Cameron about his birthday] Why are you here? To buy me a pony?

In the bubble, out of the bubble, on the bubble...

These will now be how I classify things in my surroundings on the Dirty Coast. SoAL film fest, in the bubble. Greek Fest, in the bubble. Great food and service without paying an arm and a leg, in the bubble. My DH and friends and ducklings and the vacuum in pearls girls that have a desire to change the world, most certainly in the bubble. Most everything else is most assuredly outside the bubble. A few things sit on top and could go either way (several bars, music venues, and other entertainment type things).

I am working on not letting the myriad of out of the bubble things/places/people not pop my bubble as much and this is certainly a lesson in patience like I have never had before. Thank god I can drink (as long as it doesn't come in too big a bottle or doesn't have a classic reprint involving a naked lady, thank you oh so much Elmer Fudd).

It also has helped me define so much about myself and my goals and my desires. And I truly know that I will never get some very important college football rivalries. Mostly because I think the energy put into hate (in most senses) could go to much better things. But then I look at the majority of the people who are sucked into this liger versus red elephant or other such rivalries (especially the one that didn't go either place, or in some instances graduate high school), and I realize even if you attached them to a nuclear power plant, they still couldn't light a 10 watt bulb. Those people are verra verra OTB.

So instead, I have started making goals, which continue with my "saying No" (which has been going well) and doing things for the joy of doing them instead of obligation. Thus, I have been cooking a lot more (refusing to waste money on food I don't enjoy served by people who could care less), working out more (except this week because I have been doing ViP writing which is equally important), trying to enlighten the next generation (and given the increase of my ducklings dropping in to chat their study halls away, I think this is working), writing original fic for fun (NaNoWriMo has helped that one out), and studying like a bandit for the GRE (flash cards and I are besties and frenemies).

And all is well. For the most part. But I can see the rewards in the distance, and they are getting closer each day.

As an aside, I am totally digging the moving to Mac commercials as of late considering I spent the morning taking apart my $1200 HP paperweight and sticking a penny in as a heat sink. Thank God for my work laptop or I would have had to cut a bitch. Anyone that wants to donate to my MacBook Pro fund is more than welcome to. Also, thank you to USA (the network) for bringing out White Collar. It is the smart brain candy I had desperately needed.

All Growed Up

I have been practicing at saying one of the hardest words in the English language..."No". As a perennial do-gooder and people-pleaser, this is tres difficle! But, I have in the past week, I have stood strong against Chez Child Lovers and the Redneck Daughters and probably a few other things. I stood by the commitments that I could give my heart to and where I felt like I was making a difference.

I also have taken a lock, stock and two smoking barrels look at the finances as of late, and had a fantastic talk (real, live, calm, adult) on how we can get out of debt so we can get the hell out of here.

I have done this all while coming up with the best plan to further my education (potentially, if I can master the damn GRE in the next two months) and whilst still having a good bit of fun with our sanity saving friends. Plus, I have made it to Zumba on a somewhat regular basis (despite a knee screaming at me in terror).

Go me, I might just get a handle on this being an adult thing yet!

I dreamed a dream of diesel gone by...

I got stuck today in the "big" tunnel after foolishly straying from my normal path. I should know to never deviate from the norm on the Dirty Coast, 'cause they don't cotton well to such shenanigans! But since I spent some of last night with some GLBTQ-ers (really just the LB portion of that) and signed Pleasanterville Prep up for ally week, I figured what the heck.

While waiting on people to catch a clue and move out of the lane with the giant red "X" hanging above it, I was struck with that intoxicating aroma of diesel, car exhaust, dank tiled corridor, and whatever else. Now it might be the carbon monoxide going to my brain, but this smell always gives me a jolt of happiness. To me it is the smell of Paris streets and New York subways and happier times. Some of my earliest aromatic memories come from the subways of the Attic;a nd while they are disturbingly clean, they still had that real city smell.

Despite being a bona fide homeowner (can't you feel my pride?), I still have itchy feet. Despite the disaster that was our "city living" (and I use city as loosely as possible), I still need to spread my wings most ironically in places that don't allow for room to spread one's wings. But, we are not in the position to do anything about it. And I am learning to be OK with that. I am still content, for the most part, and I think that is harder for me to come by than happy. I'll take it.

Which brings me to a future rant on this need for space in an increasingly disconnected world. But I have to go herd cats now as they disrupt the one test one day one point PSAT takers...

Why Bother?

Considering I am posting about once a month, I have to wonder why I even bother...but then I realize that it is nice to have an outlet that helps me to escape from the dipspitkickthedog circumstances I find myself trapped in. I need to realize that there are other people out there who are intelligent, hard-working, and don't believe the President is secretly trying to convert us all to Socialist Muslims. For the record, I do agree the Obama was black before he got elected. :)

As you may be able to tell, I am having some difficulties being patient and empathetic the the unwashed, wally-world foraging masses as of late. As Momma Dixie would say, "bless their hearts". I know that a lot of the (lack of) world view of many people around "these parts" is due to underexposure to culture/diversity/higher education and so on. It might not be their faults to some degree. But if all you watch on your cable is Fox News and NASCAR...it is your fault. If all you look up on the interwebz is how to make meth and the KKK's local chapter fanlisting...it is your fault. Technology has brought education and exposure to the most desolate parts of Africa for goodness sake, it can bring it to your double-wide down the road a piece!

With this, I keep having big dreams...both literal and figurative as of late. Which is sparking my interest to write again (awesome) but causing me to be cranky with the things that I am over involved in (less than awesome). If I do not stay busy here, I will whither. If I stay too busy outside my little bubble, I will cut someone low. Once again, it is all about the balance.

I've been thinking a lot about "career pathing" and "life pathing" as of late. I feel I can say I am meant for bigger and better things without being diagnosed as 301.81 (yeah, DSM look it up). But where and exactly what those B&B things are remain to be seen. In many ways, I feel as though I am chasing hummingbirds from a dream into day...and that is very frustrating. But as they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Or ends you with some nice happy pills from Dr. Shrink.

Post Script: I will be playing the role of Team Black Swan East Cruise Director with some fabulous (similarly displaced) friends this weekend where my heart lies and I cannot wait to give them the full court press.

Son of a Post Script: I still have that time lag thing. I still feel like I should be in September of 2005. I am beginning to think this will not end. Someone please intervene if I start wearing my wedding dress in a decaying house with annoying children poking around.

Daughter of a Post Script: Quarter to whoever makes the connection.

Poor Neglected Blog

Life has picked back up and then some here on the Dirty Coast. Going back to full-time work and being over involved has left little time for...well breathing! I should really take my own advice.

I was overwhelmed the other day with the realization that I am having a profound impact on the lives of the next generation...Captain's Log Stardate...oh wait...I am influencing how these sheltered little ducklings think, and often, exposing them to a great big world out there. My opinion really matters to some of them, and that scares the *^&!@# out of me. I mean, I am a pretty cool/intelligent/successful professional who has never really messed up, but still...

After freaking out about this, I got to thinking about parental vs peer vs other adults influence. Especially in the political realm. I know many adolescents are highly influenced one way or another by their parents' political affiliations. Over here in Plesanterville, it seems most teens align with their parents, no questions asked. For the most part, that means they are riding high on the elephant of red. Which I know realize could also mean Roll Tide, but I digress.

This was not the way it was for me, though. I came from a very complicated and international background where political affiliations could mean anything from Libertarians to the NDP to the PAIPH. Upon "settling" in the American South, I associated the GOP with men named Cletus and Bubba who sat on the porches of their double-wides drinking beer at 9am and shooting at things for fun. Aka those with the necks of rouge. In the Atlanta far removed from the days of Scarlett ripping off those curtains for a dress, I associated the Democrats with the well-educated and diverse Northerners who had somehow found themselves in the same strange land as myself. Thus, not wanting to associate myself with the destitute morons of the dip-spit-kick-the-dog variety, I naturally aligned myself with the blue donkeys.

But here, the image is something drastically different (at least to these impressionable minds). To them, the Republicans are the wealthy elite and why wouldn't they want to be like that? So they collectively slap on their polo shirts, loafers, and style their hair the SEC way and march on. Which has many of the same characteristics of the HJ, if you ask me. Of course, like adolescents of all the ages, they are desperately trying to just belong.

So says the Canadian, eh

I feel I must do the obligatory hockey playoffs post, not that I care since the Rangers got knocked out. And these are based on my desires not my predictions:

• Boston over Carolina (because I am still not right with Southern hockey teams)
  
• Pittsburgh over Washington (because of Sid and also because I want the Senators to die die die!!!!!)
  
• Detroit over Anaheim (because I grew up near the Lou)
  
• Chicago over Vancouver (I know, I know, but I have to go for the original 6 every time)

Stanley, Stanley, Staaaaaaaanleyyyyyy

"I thought we were wearing the wrong shoes for cancer"

I can haz shewz? As of this weekend, I can no longer be called Bootsie the Pantry Shitter. Of course the DH will keep calling me this, as he has an incredible fondness for not so cute nicknames and Rescue Me. The doc told me to get sensible, supportive, lace up shoes. I am pretty sure he meant ugly ass old person type shoes, since he said "Rockport Oxfords". But since I believe life is too short to wear ugly shoes, I ended up with these ROOS and these New Balance. I should probably get more "work appropriate" shoes since I have a lot of dresses these won't work with, but for now...whatevs.

While I didn't do much that I wanted to do (at least originally) this weekend, I still had a pretty damn nice weekend overall. We got house stuff done, or at least made progress. Which is good since I think we will be hosting a party next weekend. We also hit up the indie theater to see Sunshine Cleaning, which was good. New grill warranted steaks last night, after a very good brunch at the Pub (and finally my post-Lenten Bloody Mary). We narrowly avoided being suckered into puppy ownership, but I do see a scooter in J's future.

I get to play corporate wife this evening at dinner, and I have a party with the VPS girls this week as well. This weekend brings chaperoning a slumber party (insanity) and heading up to kill a mockingbird (where luckily the city is finally wet). Plus, spending time with the DH before he heads to the wilds of the Attic etc.

ttfn

"You see that? They all assume I'm a patient because of this cane"

I am a bad blogger it seems. Here we are over 2 months later and I have not posted. You would think I have been out running marathons instead of desk bound/broken. So what all have I been up to in the past couple of months? Well, a lot it seems...which is interesting considering my disabled state!

• I still did all the things for Mardi Gras I had planned on. Call outs on crutches are interesting. Balls are made more fun when you faux hold court since everyone feels bad for you. Drinks are a good substitute for pills. Our house holds a lot of people, especially on Joe Cain Day.
• People are less likely to move out of the way at large events held in squares. It is fun, however, to accidentally on purpose stomp on their sandled feet with your crutches when they are being assholes. Also, winning 2nd place in a cook-off on your first time out apparently garners attention.
  
• Going to cultural events such as the opera, ballet, concerts etc. in narrowed aisled theaters is also something to be hold with crutches. Though the handicapped parking is nice. Aside: ballerinas should not clomp across the stage. Period. It was like that scene in Dumbo or was that Fantasia? Almost just typed Fangtasia. Clearly spending too much time reading Sookie Stackhouse novels. Damn you independent bookseller pulling at my anti-big box heartstrings!!! *shakes fist*
• People will seek you out if they have an injury similar to yours. This is especially true during St. Paddy's day events at a pub. Your name becomes your injury or medical device ("Crutches!!!!!!"). I am going to start calling some old people "Oxygen tank".
  
• Sometimes you just need a day off, even if you lie to get it and spend most of the day working on a presentation that your stupid PC eats because it is a piece of crap and the memory dies.
  
• One should be more careful about what Mardi Gras organization they join. Because The Redneck Daughters are wearing thin fast!
  
• Opera, opera, opera. Good, bad, ugly, and broke. But people with way more money than I seem to think I need to be involved and in the patron room and at the after-party. Who am I to argue?
• Occasionally, an event you think will be huge and meaningful will just be a little blip. This may be because you already got all the closure you needed. Seeing friends is always nice, however, especially when you can support them in their fearlessness!
  
• Weddings, bachelorette parties, and baby showers OH MY!!! I enjoy people who have the same view on weddings and marriage that I do. I want to stab people in the eye that have bought into the wedding machine. Also, games at showers will always SUCK! And don't make me not have alcohol just because you got knocked up. But boy aren't you glowing and fabulous for procreating, it's like a miracle that happens. A lot.
  
• Piano bar, I heart you.
• Volunteering is supposed to make you feel like you are contributing and giving back. So don't yell at us because you need a vacation.
  
• Oh Ben Folds, you still funny. And still five, actually. But whatever. Oh kidlets, don't be drinking beer in the theater.
• I big thanks to V for the humor while in Hotlanta! I also will never forgive you for exposing us to Alexyss Tylor. "Jackrabbit?!"
• SPRING BREAK!!!! Was way more fun when I went somewhere. But it was nice to do not a damn thing. Of course I was regaled with stories of New York, the Caymans, Honduras, the Caribbean, Seaside and so on.
  
• 9,600 minutes left to go. Not that I am counting. ;)

Until next time, another couple of months from now!

"I passed agony yesterday around four"

We're going to blame this on the foot pain, or the meds but as I am chained to my desk and going a little crazy, I have some ranting things to point out:

• People needed to scale back on their Facebook applications and notes. And stop tagging me, damnit! Even with severe mobility issues, I still don't want to spread all this info about me out there. My first though is that it gives tons of ammunition for someone to steal my identity. The second thing is, it is the interwebz and you can't take it back. Plus, Facebook might pwn it or something now!
  
• I also received this group invite to boycott the New York Post. But to boycott it, would I not then be admitting to reading such birdcage liner? I read the Times, thankyouverymuch, and never go to the Post. Or I didn't, until I clicked to see the damn thing the boycott is over, so thanks for actually raising the hit to the Post whilst trying to boycott them.
• Kids with more money then sense really need a reality check. Hopefully, that reality check will come out of this economic mess. But until then, we have entitled kids thinking they should get good grades just for showing up. Screw you! I had to bust my ass in some classes to get a "B". And I learned to like that grade, as many of my classmates were FAILING. Get over yourself and welcome to the real world. I wonder if these are the same kids occupying the caf at NYU demanding "to make our school more democratic, accountable and socially just"? Seriously, if you want social justice, there are these great colleges and universities created around critical thinking and social justice called JESUITS and most of them are way cheaper than NY-friggin'-U.

And to leave on a snarky nerdom high note, I am ganking this from my friend S who ganked it from his friend: "Ubuntu! It's like being in a poorly-managed communist country, hoping impotently that the price of bread goes down this week".

"The Cripple Boys. We should start a band."

I am a very active person. Not in a jogging in -30 degree weather with an ice storm active, but more in the why doesn't my day planner have multiple lines for each hour kind of active. Thus, when partaking in my most severe and recent fall from grace, the resulting snap of my metatarsals has sent me into a downward spiral of stir crazy. Sure, getting to lounge in bed being waited on hand and foot sounds like a nice fantasy. However, reality says someone has to go to work to pay the bills, daytime TV sucks and the bathroom can never be close enough. Not to mention we just had to buy that huge house with 2 very distinct levels. I cannot say I would ever choose to be immobile in Mobile

I, with great assistance, found myself back at Pleasanterville Prep today and have been the great passive-aggressive curiosity of the faculty and not even a blip on the radar of the students. Mostly because they have much better things to gossip about! Being bed ridden is never something that has appealed to me, even if I do wish I could take some time off to write an actual fiction book. I like the illusion that I can get out whenever the fancy strikes me. I am getting to use a lot of House quotes, however, and for once they are greatly applicable.

Something tells me this may be a Carnival to remember for all the wrong reasons.

"I am wearing a rumpled shirt, and I forgot to brush my hair this week. You've got athlete's foot in your nose. I'm ready to be judged"

I've decided I am getting "too old" for several things, the main two coming to mind right now are cheap liquor and bullshit.

Sadly, the world is filled with too much of both!

I also decided I am going to be exhausted come Ash Wednesday. A friend informed me this is what I get for being a socialite. Of course, I have a job, so I can't really be one. I think I am going to get calling cards that say "socialite in training" on them though.

I have survived my first Dirty Coast MG ball, and have more scheduled in the coming weeks. I also made a side trip "home" to see KdV and met some very interesting people who reminded me that I need to have more diversity in my friendship group. They also helped me to realize that I really am better suited to private practice.

The VPS is keeping me busy, as are all my other philanthropic endeavors, not to mention Carnival season is officially in full swing.

Work is also interesting, with my picking of my minions for the upcoming school year. I apparently have made more interesting choices than the faculty would have made, but that is why they are the faculty and I am the counselor. I find it interesting in a hilarious yet pathetic way when educators act more like children than the students. Not to mention the fact that there are some faculty members here at Pleasenterville Prep that are seriously rocking some Axis II disorders. I did not pick the students that got picked for EVERYTHING because they do get picked for everything. And also because I might throw up on myself around that much perfection. I did not pick every kid in the in crowd because they don't know what it is like to be on the fringes. I did not pick all playing it straight kids because if you haven't strayed from the path, how can you tell others how to get back? I picked a good mix of the do everything rights and the not quite fitting ins and the somewhere in between. I went with my gut on nearly every pick, and maybe it will blow up in my face, but at least I will have a little damn diversity in this robotic society. They are my minions and I will do what I want! Of course, now I am having to deal with Mommies and Daddies calling about their dear Precious not getting in. I have to say that having your parents fight your battles for you is not the way to sway me. If you got a problem, suck it up and come to me to state your case. But this may be the fact that parents want their children in the program more than the children want it. If I am prepping them for college and the real world, I figure it is time for them to pull themselves up. Plus, I get to be a little extra kookie by profession.

I am vowing to spend the next week trying to avoid cheap liquor and bullshit, but I don't hold out much hope for either!

Life in the fast lane!

For those of you under the impression that life in the South is a bit "slower" than other places, you clearly have not seen my calendar for the past four weeks! I have not had a single night not booked with something. But, huge disclaimer, this is not a complaint. I love it, I am just a little tired. Of course, I didn't help this by staying out far too late at a good-bye party last night for a friend (and then coming home and watching cheesy tv).

General observations/thoughts/comments:

• I think I need to avoid economy news. I am a natural worrier, I don't need gloom and doom reports to freak me out. I am doing well in a job I love, with a backup if the worst happens, not that it would but I love a plan B, the DH is doing fabulous with a promotion and a raise and likes his job and is still getting pinged for side work. We just bought a house and are making improvements and got enough of a steal that it will raise in value. I am not saying we are recession proof, but we are smart and grateful and happy.
  
• World news is stressing me out. The old MUN nerd in me is struggling to be let loose. Of course, being roped in to helping with Pleasenterville Prep's team might have something to do with that. Though these children are so laissez faire about the whole thing that I sort of want to stab them in the eyes. Mo would have kicked their butts up and down the General Assembly Hall!
• Mardi Gras is getting into full swing, I am excited about balls, parties, parades, and hanging out. I am somewhat less excited about my liver function and ballgown shopping. Well, not entirely, I love buying new dresses, I just wish I was buying them in a size 6. ;) I am super duper excited about having friends come this way from NOLA to experience our Mardi Gras without snobbery.
  
• My patience for people that are negative when they should be grateful and happy is wearing thin. I can no longer have empathy or sympathy for people in supposedly good relationships with job security being overpaid bragging about their crap out of one side of their mouth and whine whine whining out the other.
  
• But the Vacuum in Pearls Society have taught me to smile and nod and seethe quietly. The VPS also had me rushing home from work to make a casserole. Dear God, what have I become?

I am certain I will have more mirthful commentary later when I am not running on less than four hours of sleep and not enough coffee!

Happy New Year, or "Oh wait, it is already 1/2 way through January?"

So welcome to 2009, it has to be better than 2008...or does it? I am sure as hell sure it will be better than 2007. Or the last quarter of 2005. But then again, due to a craptastic time in the attic and a major disaster I am not so sure that my standards are high enough.

2009 is off to a busy start. Like wish I could run away under the WitSec program busy. Luckily, I have this character flaw that demands I stay busy. In addition to my venture into the vacuuming in pearls adult sorority, I also have thrown my hat into the chair the YA section on the Opera and joined a Krewe and have made real friends. My "planning diary" from my very Coach Christmas is already looking pretty full through April. So if you want me, act now!!!!

I am also increasingly discovering that my job also entails grant writing, playing the next Simon Cowell to the Sophomore class, teaching parents to parent, informing said parents that I am not a one woman police department, being a psychic, and being in three places at once at all times. In addition to all the counseling, teaching, administration stuff I was already doing. But crazy me, I still love it. And on the days I don't, I recall that I work 7 hours a day (more or less) for 180 days a year, smack myself ala Gibbs style and move on.

On tap: Cirque du Soleil, turning others to the dark side, running meetings, Symphony, Mardi Gras stuff, Opera stuff, MAYPA stuff, possible visitors, find my dad a new job, finish decorating for Mardi Gras, finishing painting the downstairs of my house, several other ongoing house projects that may very well last longer than the mortgage (I just had to have my mother come and "help out"), and somewhere in there plan some much needed DH time and alone time so as to not go batshit crazy.

I leave you with this question/pondering point: What is the fallout going to be of a generation raised with few rules and friends as parents (who are too worried about seeming hypocritical to law down rules/consequences) who is drinking in high school at the rate we all did in college? And my bigger question: how do I ride this inevitable cash cow?

17 years 0 months 9 days

That simple statistic is how one student that used to attend Pleasenterville High will be encapsulated in our computer system before he chose to take his own life last night. It is a haunting line, made more so by the ripple effect his death has and will have in the community. Or maybe more so by the effect he won't have. He was one of "those" students. Artsy instead of athletic. Emotional instead of a bully. Intelligent. Creative. Quiet. I overheard one faculty member say "Oh you wouldn't have known him, he wasn't the type of kid you would have been friends with, he wasn't outgoing and athletic like you". Which is like a knife to my nerd for life heart, because why does the brainy, creative kid not matter as much as the homecoming queen? Why is their pain, which is probably felt deeper, made to be something less? Sometimes I just want to shake people and tell them to reach outside of their little boxes and connect with someone, just for a second, because the person they connect with may need it more than they will ever know. 17 years 0 months 9 days, and I hope you found peace.

Finally I know what you are saying...

I have had some many sessions with clients in the past where every sentence ended with "ya kno' wha' I'm sayin'?" and I would often have to stop them and tell them, "no I don't have a clue, I do not understand the words that are coming out of your mouth"!

Thankfully, YouTube has come to the rescue once again:

And I am also thankful that I am in a work environment where I (mostly) get what is being said in my class, except for that one bit of LOLZ note passing that ended up being a surprise birthday party for me anyway.

Ah Snoop said it best...

Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sippin on gin and juice
Laid back [with my mind on my money and my money on my mind]

Critical Juncture Part 2...
I made several realizations this weekend:

• I need top shelf if I am going to try to party like I am 22 and actually function the next day. There is a reason it is mostly old people I know that drink (good) gin and do so in a sippin' manor.
• Those gyrating movements you usually only see inside a psych facility are engineers thinking they are actually dancing.
• Corporate culture is a funny thing that I will never fully understand.
• This is not New Orleans, but it is funny how those of us that lived there are a period of time treat certain areas of downtown like it is, especially after a certain hour. What open container laws? Not me, not me I swear! But it didn't seem odd until the bouncer pointed it out.
• Unpacking a whole house in less than a week is ridiculous. And it will only end with bruises, a lack of sleep and a cold.
• No matter how mature and upper crust the teen is, you still have to do some cat herding from time to time.
• My normally hectic calendar is made even more insane by the impending holidays. I am exhausted just looking at it.
  

Choose your own adventure blog...

Insert your own long rambling post here about: the rustic charms of Thanksgiving in a trailer, traveling up to the farthest point in the state from this Catholic outpost of evil drinkers, life path realizations that you aren't like anyone else in your profession and really just need to get a PhD or suck it up and go to med school and quit whining about it already, the joys of buying a house, the panic attacks about buying a house, the realization that you are starting to see your 20's in the rear view instead of ahead of you (and subsequent meltdowns and moments of zen), and various snippets about working in Pleasanterville here.

Also, I feel the need to echo the words of one of my more astute students: "Edward Cullen is a fictional character, he is not real". I would also like to add that he is also a Mary Stu written by someone who clearly got a better editor somewhere between books 1 and 4. Don't try to find someone like Edward, he doesn't exist.

Nothing to see here...

Except not, life has been a whirlwind of activity as of late. So much so that I have barely had time to breathe, let alone blog! Let's see:

There's been work, work and more work. I continue to marvel at how I don't just pass out on my way home. But I also continue to love every day I come into my office. And while I still believe Jesus is not fully awake at the time I come in, at least the sun is now up!

There was the Opera, which was amazing and included meeting some great new young cultural aficionados. The staging of Lucia di Lammermoor was amazing and to quote the local bird cage line "What is love but a kind of madness, equal parts ecstasy and misery?" and "This production at times borders on the cinematic. It marks an impressive debut for artistic director Andy Anderson, who conducts the Orchestra ." Rock on Andy!

There was Halloween where my costume went over better than I could ever imagine. Who knew there were so many True Blood fans out there? And my Sookie Stackhouse was pretty impressive and authentic, if I may say so myself. Though after a pre-partying spill (read: sober pavement dive), I thought I was going to have to change my costume to Beaten Alabama Housewife, but I rallied as I am (as the saucy French Maid stated) a regular ol' Steel Magnolia. I am probably plastered on countless Facebook and MySpace pages now without even knowing it. But it was all in grand fun. And I got to stay at the Queen and Crescent hotel, which is a great location but meh on the price. Sadly, I missed the post-nuptial gathering of my Prop 8 defying friends due to above fall and my car being held hostage by the valet, but I did get to see at least one half of the amazing duo on Saturday morning. The weekend also brought a lovely dinner at Herbsaint, a great room at Le Cirque, drink and nibbles at Helix and way too much fun that I won't even dare to speak about at the Red Eye afterwards. This is where I hope the pics never see the light of day. Making it to brunch at Eat the next day was quite the feat, and we took over most of the restaurant, despite attitude from the servers who denied us a reservation earlier in the week. But we forgot all of that with our fabulous server and the generous BYOB encouraged policy.

There has also been Christmas Jubilee which was a sight to behold to say the least and a visit from the in-laws who got to see the house and partake in a "Girl's Night Out", well just the mother-in-law obviously. I partook of the martinis and champagne, served by one of my favorite bartenders. She partook of the white wine, which was also a sight to behold and one of my own personal triumphs. Which if I think too long on is rather sick.

There has also been continued progress and egress toward the house buying, but I think things are firming up in our favor at this point. My main desire is not to blow chunks, but rather to smack the seller upside the head at closing and call him a...well something unpleasant and unladylike.

There has also been other stuff, but I feel I gone on long enough and will have more to blog and blather about later. Looking forward to American Turkey Day and also escaping to Huntsville next week (never thought I would say that, of course I also didn't think I would be buying a house in the other other LA).

I leave you with the best headline I have seen in a while: Herpes Lawsuit Drama. I think the plush Herpes makes the whole article. Not quite as good as Stagger Lee's OVPC, but oh well!


I suppose I should also mention, because I am insane and get weird cravings to try to give myself a stroke, I am also participating in NaNoWriMo.

On Hockey Moms

While I still firmly believe that a hockey mom could beat up a soccer mom any day (not that I can actually find any here on the Dirty Coast), I sure as hell do not know any hockey moms that have $150K wardrobes suddenly appear in their closets. "Campaign Accessories" my tuckus! I am not saying a professional woman does not have the right to look good...key word being professional. But she should probably a) pick up the tab herself and b) not claim to be a plain ol' Jane if she's shopping at Neimen Markup. Even the hockey moms who can't sing along with If I had a Million Dollars (because they do), aren't melting plastic down at Sak's.

I should have tons more, and probably do...but this one got my goat enough to post.

Maybe it is just my sweet tooth...

...but if someone tells me I can have a slice of cake that is guaranteed to raise my blood pressure and potentially kill me for $11.50 or a comparable whole cake that has restorative properties and will do good for me in the future for $5; well strap on the feedbag Cletus, 'cause momma is getting her eat on.

This is essentially the state of real estate between my old and new homes. Now I know there has been this economic crisis and people are foreclosing left and right and down by the folks in SWFL, it is a very sad state of affairs (which the whole state is in judging by the redonkulous amount of political ads telling me so in our combined television market). But thanks to an odd set of circumstances, my new home on the DC is pretty insulated from all of this. Jobs are actually being created here and the hopeful future real housewives of Bald Co. sure are still melting the plastic on their black Amex cards. My old home of NOLA is apparently still in a state of insanity since the Big K. House prices shot up after the storm. It started with the homes that weren't flooded and then it extended to the generalized "Uptown" area. Real estate became much more of a race game and then just a crazy elitist game. I was figuring the bubble was going to burst there soon, because there certainly was not the economy or climate to support it. Boy was I wrong. Now this is very very good for my friends wanting to sell their houses. And many might have to soon for those of them that took out shady crazy sub-prime mortgages (yes, I know plenty of the keeping up with the Joneses types that helped to get us into this mess and you may in fact kick 'em in the head if you want). God bless their hearts.

Meanwhile, I will take my Garden District 4/2/1 redone big ol' historic double galley home over your Garden District 4/3/1 needing a little updating and TLC home any day. My fork is ready.

Down the rabbit hole...

Life just keeps getting curiouser and curiouser. But in a good way. Which I know doesn't sound like it would make sense, but I am weird.

Fabulous weekend with friends old and new. I mean fabulous!!!! Being doted on by ducklings and the amazing alike does wonders for one's self esteem. Not that I need others opinions to validate me, but come on, who doesn't like being worshiped a little now and again?

And while I love my job, I have just discovered that the Jesuit College of the South (aka the Country Club) has a post-bac pre-med certificate program. Why did this not come up on my search before? But Lord would that be a big undertaking. Ignoring deathbed promised made to my grandfather, I don't know if I am cut out for med school. Except when I think I am. Of course the certificate program at the CC would most likely cost more than med school at USA.

I have to dress like the Great Pumpkin this weekend. But part of that trip to the land of ice and snow will also involve getting one step closer to home ownership. Thus, I will suck it up.

Pleasanterville

I really am not trying to sugar coat anything, and maybe it has to do with the comparisons I constantly subconsciously make between the Attic and Chocolate City to the Dirty Coast, but I really am in some sort of time warp Stepford land.

I say this with a giant growth of a "Homecoming mum" protruding from my chest complete with school spirit ribbons and football charms. The thing approaches the size of my head and certainly is larger than a bread plate; it required multiple pins to affix it to my shirt and even then the weight threatened to irrevocably stretch my polo out. This monstrosity was brought gleefully to the female faculty by the student council and headmaster. The sarcastic chuckles in my head are brought by those who are wearing it with unabashed pride and joy.

All this saccharine perfection at one point with become nauseatingly overwhelming. I am acutely aware of this. Until that day, I have to laugh to myself. The only downside is that there are few others getting the joke.

Cases in point:
At a meeting attended at the lavishly appointed home of the group's leader, I notice a gilded Torah on the "coffee table" (though I am sure no drink has ever dared sully its surface). I was already well aware of the faiths of this woman before this first meeting from having Googled her. I was not surprised in the least to find many illustrations of her Jewish faith scattered about her home. At the next meeting, she reports that dinner is served and we should help ourselves to the delicious pulled pork. In my head I immediately ponder if it is from a kosher pig and snicker quitely. No one else even bats an eyelash. Of course, I don't think these women have clued in to the fact that the woman is not Baptist or Catholic.

At a press conference that I got roped into by the Grand Poobah for this initiative from local (private) schools about drug use education. One of the muckity mucks talks about how his school started doing mandatory drug hair tests of all the students and they have had many positive results. I immediately snicker at this and realize everyone else is just smiling and nodding. Seriously dude? Not something I would want out on the news. Yep, we got lots of childrens with positive results on that drug thingamajiggy.

Sometimes I get the feeling that I am in The Truman Show and I am not sure who might be watching. Just as long as I don't start teasing and Aquanetting my hair, all is well.

Need more coffee...

I took this headline:

Chunchula shooting kills 18-year-old, injures man

and in my head read "Chinchilla", which would have been much more interesting if you ask me. Say hello to my little rodent gun...

In other news, my week was full of stuff including the experience of a new "stylist" at a new salon. Now I will freely admit I was spoiled by the hair god that is DF, and was happy with the peeps over at Paris Parker, so it was no great shock that I was horribly disappointed by the Aveda Salon experience here forever ago (like Mardi Gras forever ago). And I could not justify running to Miami or NYC or East Exoticfuck to pay D $300 + to supermodel me up. So I just didn't do anything to my hair. I realize this was not just because of the expense or that fact that the incredibly hot gay man took his show on the road, but also because going to a new stylist is much like a bad first date. With someone who is fooling around with chemicals on your hair. And you can't escape out that backdoor with foil on your head. The ridiculous small talk, the awkward silences, the uncertainty of knowing that the other person is looking for...combined here with the inevitable questions of "are you married" "do you have kids" "oh, why not". Which, ironically enough, I am pretty sure happens on first dates here as well. Not to mention the whole "why did you choose here to live?".

Ya know, if enough people keep asking, I am going to start second guessing myself. Until I look at the price per square foot of houses and realize I work ridiculously little for more money than before. Not investment banker money...oh wait, now I probably am making more than some of them. Karma is a bitch. A hormonal pms-ing bitch.

It appears as though we will be hosting visitors this weekend and next and then traveling to the Attic the next weekend and then more visitors the next weekend. Somewhere in there the DH might be heading to Spain and I am sure I have a million meetings. As our friend T asked (between thanking us for being blue dots in a red state like him), "is joining the JL a requirement here or something?" Yes, T, it is. Unless you like social isolation.

"Little town It's a quiet village Ev'ry day Like the one before Little town Full of little people"...
Props to Belle, girl knows what she is talking about. But it isn't bad. There are all these little treasures that I keep finding. Like Chief Medical Officers wanting me to go to med school and sad they didn't "find me first". And owners of wine bars making sure they introduce us to "just the right people". And board members inviting us to all sorts of things and trying to get us to buy their houses or their friend's houses. Or the opera people wanting us to stay for the after party. The good thing about this quiet village, besides low crime and low cost of living etc. etc., is that is it easy to pwn!

Alright, dancin' shoes on tonight and on call for a duckling. Must consume coffee and food and get my show on the road.

Desk Nap Time

Actually, I could leave...er have left and go take a real nap, but I have to have enough energy to get across (damnit I almost said Causeway again) the Bay (mind you there is a Causeway but it is not THE one that lasts for a million miles and goes over the Lake).

I love Saturday morning cartoons, always have and always will. Yes, I watch The Emperor's New School while eatin' on my cereal on Saturday mornings, what of it? One of the cartoons I used to love and even had the lunchbox (given to me, I swear!) was Recess. A delightful tale of a group of kids in a certain grade who used to look at the kids in kindergarten as little savages. Working in a school setting makes that all the more relatable. Battling...I mean "teaching" children in the 3rd and 4th grade Character Education is something akin to dealing with savages. Also of random note, George Lopez and vodka are both apparently popular in the 4th grade (and apparently I have my work cut out for me)!

I still am in love with my job. It doesn't hurt that my ducklings keep raving about me to their parents, and the ones who come for counseling actually acknowledge that I am doing them a service. This being appreciated at work thing is strange, new, and delightful. Oh, and one of the parents (who is a doctor) wants me to go to med school so she can crown me queen of child and adolescent psychiatry. Though I think she would hire me right this second if I was the least bit happy.

I know I am where I am supposed to be. I have not felt that way for a really long time! It might not be forever (because I don't think I know how to do that!), but it is awesome for now. I am finding tons to do, despite others whining about there not being anything to do (really, because my schedule book is FULL), and I have already won an award in one of my orgs and am chair of a mini-committee in that org and on a committee in the other one. Pretty much all of my Adlerian needs are being met, which I thought was practically impossible! Now if I could stop feeling like the other shoe was going to drop...

Damn lingering PTSD or PTNOLAD is more like it! Though I still need to plan a visit to the peeps there.

I swear I am going to post a humorous/intelligent post about real estate, friendship, race relations and more soon! It is marinating. For now, I really need tozzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Take a Hike Ike

Well, it seems as though all our collective voodoo powers against the storm has worked! Ike seems to be veering off toward Texas and Mexico, causing my eye to finally stop twitching. Gustav had me worried until it made landfall and then Anderson Cooper and the rest had me freaked out as it seemed they were waiting for levee failure. *Le sigh* I am ready for hurricane season to be over. One of the downsides of living on the Dirty Coast, but there are so many upsides.

For those of you wondering, Zack has still not asked Kelly to the prom...oh wait that is the other school with the same name. I am loving it here though. No two days are alike,(which I love), I am kept on my toes all the time (which I need), and people seem to really value me (which is shocking). Kids are finding me and actually using my services and feeling better when they leave my office. Faculty values my input and wants me involved in their planning and the security guard/police officer brings me clippings from the NY Times. *Squee* My ducklings really seem to be getting into the class and I am revamping the curricula to include more activities for them and I might even get to write a textbook (which definitely puts a leg up on grad school). And I only have to work 9 months out of the year? Are you kidding me?! I really see more and more each day why this is the holy grail of counseling jobs.

I am not going to talk about politics. It gets my ethical ferrets all riled up in my tummy. But let me say that I do feel you cannot be a feminist and a pure Republican. Voting based on body parts is also stupid. I am waiting for the first hermaphroditic candidate. I am also not talking about politics because it is becoming more apparent that there are many people here that think very differently on the value scale than I do. People that given their life circumstance, beliefs and family units I am not always sure how they came out thinking the way they do...I digress and I perfect the "smile and nod". And I also rarely turn down free food or drink no matter who is serving it.

On tap: football ('tis the season and I am loving it), events (so many it is ridic but I heart that), house hunting (have realtor and mortgage guy and houses we love), trip planning (big summer trip if I am not working at a camp, little one even if I am).

Here's to hoping the computer models don't start picking on the Bay again...
xo

No worse for the wear...

Just a little soggy and the worst water we got was a driveway flooding. Oh, and getting pounded on as we went to feed F and B. Overall, we thought it was much ado about nothing, but that is a GREAT thing. Now, I just wish my eye would stop twitching. Somehow with Ike, TD 10 and Invest 99 Josephine (are you kidding me in the time I started writing this?!) out there, I don't think that is going to happen. I know I chose to come back to the coast, and I wouldn't have it any other way, I just wish the media didn't help get me so hyped up. Here's to hoping I don't need Xanax cocktails for the next two months. Of course the thought of Miss L out on a ladder trying to save a neighbor's house from a fire, (note to Dennis Leary: Write this woman into Rescue Me now!) is enough to give the courage to ride out anything (as long as there are one or two gins at the end of it)!

On happier notes: I think all of our friends are A-OK. Our weekend was filled with lots of awesome football. We chilled for the most part (or as chilled whilst being high strung and feeling a little PTSD can be), which was needed and I have today off! Working for a school has its perks fo' tru'.

It's like that all over again

Déjà vu "already seen"; also called paramnesia, from Greek παρα para, "near" + μνήμη mnēmē, "memory") is the experience of feeling sure that one has witnessed or experienced a new situation previously (an individual feels as though an event has already happened or has happened in the near past).

I could really do without these nice little tropical weather events. Just as I could do without "Disaster Movie" opening on the 3rd anniversary of the big K. But since I chose to move back to the Gulf Coast, I guess some things are just going to have to be out of my control. See how I am giving that up? Aren't you proud? Anyone? Buller? *crickets*

Just to put it out there, if you are reading this and need to evacuate from somewhere other than Lower AL, let me know. There is, not shockingly, a large amount of anxiety in the air right now. As evidenced by the insanity in the canned food/camping gear aisles at Wally World last night. I despise big box stores, add a level of hysteria to them and I almost curled up in the fetal position in Housewares.

Other than Gustav, potentially Hannah, and other calamities between now and then end of hurricane season, life is going great. We've had visitors who we were able to show off our fair city to and they saw its charm. We've been to the beach to chill out with other friends. I love my new job and have not found it nearly so GG as I thought it was going to be. I am meeting lots of new people who I am sure many of will become good friends in JLM and all in all, I am darn satisfied. And it has been many a moon since I have been able to say that.

Back to reality...

My sort of self-induced and then notsomuch semi-retirement ended today. Not only did it end today, it ended with me being at work BEFORE 8:00. Yes, AM. I haven't done that in forever, and I would have done it today without the assistance of Tar-jay PM and the DH. My body does not work "normally", I have always been a night owl and thus get some of my best ideas in the middle of the night when the rest of the world is wasting time sleeping.

I think I will love this job. I know I will tolerate it. I have a pretty good hunch I will be awesome at it. The pay/schedule/boss etc. can't be beat. I don't mind the commute even if others think I am crazy for liking it. Hey, I get to listen to NPR both ways!

I do vow to keep up with my writing, not get sucked in to the world of academia and forget about my own education, and to give this job a bigger chance than my last official (read: not self-employed) venture. BGV wants details and they will be forthcoming, I am just not sure where yet.

The Myths of Order

Growing up in the land of peaches, I had a sort of diverse group of friends, as much as one could have when one's HS marching band started out with only one "dot". Thankfully, I had lived in the islands prior to that where I was exposed to many different cultures (sadly I was also was exposed to the skewed way of thinking where the whites had maids/cooks/nannies/assorted help that were clearly darker than they and the darker the skin, the more menial the work). After graduating high school, I went out into the big bad world and made friends from all four corners of the world, many of whom I still hold dear to my heart.

Settling in the city that FEMA forgot brought me a whole new group of friends, the most diverse yet. Nearly every combination of race, creed, and sexual orientation was represented in my social Rolodex. And I really enjoyed that.

Then I moved to the Attic where every combination of everything was represented and I couldn't find friends. My former views of the land of diversity and culture were shattered, as I realized it was a patchwork quilt and not a melting pot or mixed salad or whatever metaphor you want to use. I went from living in a city where I went everywhere, and even if people looked at me curiously, they still came out with some good old Southern hospitality, once we found some common ground (which in NOLA is not that hard). In the Attic, I went places and people would not look me in the eye or wait on me or where downright rude. This put my panties in a twist fo' tru'! I am a social gal who likes to make a connection with everyone she meets. For all its Socialism, there was certainly nothing social about the people in its biggest "bestest" city.

So when I finally got to see The Order of Myths last night, after avoiding seeing it at the Toronto film fest for fear of breaking down into hysterics like I did with everything that reminded me of the Dirty Coast while I was there, I had got a bee in my bonnet about the Globe and Mail's review of the film. The snippet that keeps coming up the most is this:

"A study of community ritual, pomp and camaraderie, The Order of Myths also gradually unveils the startling connections between the two communities, where the great-grandchildren of slaves and the great-grandchildren of slave owners still live highly segregated lives."

Well yes it is true and no it is not. But it bothers me that a country who in many respects is so white and so segregated can hold itself out to be the example of diversity and poo-poo on a film that is trying to open a dialog for change.

I don't enjoy that fact the since moving to this city I have seen a lack of diversity in the social networks I have created. I am ashamed of the fact that a man was lynched right down the road in 1981 (but gee, he got the street named after him /sarcasm). I don't enjoy the fact that the white land owners of a predominately African-American area won't sell the land, but will only lease it. But equally, I won't let that be my history or my present. I didn't do it in New Orleans, and I refuse to do it here. I will seek out opportunities to diversify my social portfolio, and I will be just fine with the discomfort it may cause in the beginning. But then again, I am OK with making waves when waves are needed. Being a blue dot in a red state will do that for you. So will a giant "FN" on your driver's license.

I don't understand why the Courts of MCA and MAMGA don't formally meet (like Comus and Rex) or why they don't do something like Rex and Zulu. I would hope that is in the works. I don't think changing the parade route should be the "big change" that solves everything either. Zulu has its route for very specific cultural reasons and needs, and they shouldn't have to change it. But it does go through much more of the city than the rest of the routes. I also enjoy that nearly every Krewe in NOLA has its own Royalty and Court, but I don't know if that is sustainable here. Not to mention everyone knows there is only one King of Carnival (and I don't care how much longer you have been throwing moon pies *ducks*).

There are still a lot of gray areas about race and race relations in America, especially in the Deep South. But there are also a lot of young people that don't understand why there still needs to be such great divides. As King Joseph said, we do need to find more opportunities to break bread together. And dear Brittney, never let your spirit be broken. And King Felix, sugar, you need to pass a good time more often, dawlin'! People, as is often the case, just need to get off their asses and do something. I plan on bringing more diversity into my own life in anyway I can, especially in the organizations I belong to and I certainly plan to attend as many events for MAMGA that I can. And so be it if that means I don't get to wear a big ass hat to the other Queen's luncheon, that is what the Kentucky Derby is for! The Rebirth Brass Band has already said it best:


For further reading on the issue, and I am certain I will write more on it later:
LA Film Fest Review
MAMGA vs Zulu
Mobile Area Mardi Gras Association
Press-Register article about the Mobile Premier