Another Time and Place - Dave Von Ronk

When first I met you years ago
In another time and place
The thought came to my mind
I'd never seen a kinder face

For A Friend

Gone From My Sight
--Henry Van Dyke

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"

Gone where?

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"

And that is dying...

Auld Lang Syne

I officially gave up making resolutions, or at least big, supposed-to-change-your-life resolutions, when 2011 rolled around. I tried (unsuccessfully) to quit smoking during 2010 (and 2001; and 2005). Failed. I've made the this-is-the-year-I'm-finally-going-to-lose-some-weight resolution more years than I can count. Big resolutions like that seem to set me up for nothing other than failure. (And 2011, by the way, the first year I resolved not to resolve anything, is the year I finally got with the program and lost 25 pounds--go figure.)

So as 2011 left and 2012 arrived, I resolved again to stay away from resolutions. But then I realized, after looking at the pictures I took on New Year's Eve, that I have one resolution that has been a part of my life for 10+ years and that I plan to keep for good. It's an excellent way to start the new year off , and I swear, if nothing else, it makes you feel happy for years to come.

One Love

A good song for a tropical stormy kind of night in New Orleans. If you haven't bought the Playing for Change CD yet, you really should. In my opinion, this version would make the beautiful and amazing Bob Marley proud.


One love, one heart
Let's get together and feel all right
Let's get together and feel all right

This City

This city won’t wash away
This city won’t ever drown
Blood in the water and hell to pay
Sky tear open and pain rain down.

Hallelujah

Hallelujah is a Hebrew word which means "Glory to the Lord." The song explains that many kinds of Hallelujahs do exist. I say, all the perfect and broken Hallelujahs have an equal value. It's, as I say, a desire to affirm my faith in life, not in some formal religious way but with enthusiasm, with emotion.--Leonard Cohen



I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Pride and Joy

Pretty soon, I'm going to have to start a heading called "Songs I'm Obsessed With." Here's my latest fixation, "Pride and Joy" by Brandi Carlile. It started the usual way--I heard the song a few times in passing and liked it. Then, someone burned a CD for me with the song on it, and I really listened to it. And it has those two magical qualities that suck me in every time--a singer whose voice fascinates me and lyrics that reel me in.

True confession time--if I could be anything in the world, I would be a singer. Not a big-time singer who can't walk down the street without being mobbed by adoring crowds. No Lady Gaga-type life for me (although I adore "Bad Romance," much to Kenny's dismay). No, I'd want to be someone like Alison Kraus--someone who has an absolutely amazing voice but who isn't that well known outside of certain circles and can probably walk down any street without being recognized and harrassed.

Sadly, I will never be a famous singer, because I really don't sing all that well--smoking a pack of cigarettes a day for 20+ years will do that to you--ironically, I still have the lung capacity to hold most long notes--my voice just cracks all over the place. But that doesn't stop me from singing up a storm in my car. If you're sitting next to me at a stoplight, you'll most likely get a show, if you happen to look over at that crazy girl in the black SUV next to you.

Anyway, because I'm officially now obsessed with this song, I've read what little analysis there is of the lyrics online. It seems that most people think that it's a song about a lost love, but I tend to differ. But that's the wonderful thing about music, isn't it? It can have different meanings for each of us.

One of the Many Reasons Why I Don't Eat at Applebee's

Does it make me a bad person that I found this story mildly amusing, considering that the kid was okay and everything?

Applebee's sorry after tot served booze in sippy cup

The only thing I'm really confused about is how anyone could mistake pre-made margaritas for apple juice, even if the container was mislabelled as such. I mean, last time I checked, apple juice and margaritas look (and smell) nothing alike

Rolling in the Deep

Every once in awhile, a song comes along that I just fall in love with immediately and have to listen to over and over again. Last time it happened was about four years ago, when "Hate Me" by Blue October came out. It was right around the time that we were making preparations to move back into our house, after we rebuilt after Katrina. I listened to that song over and over again while I packed, blasting it from the headphones of my i-pod until I knew every word of it by heart.

My latest obsession is "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele. Good God, what a voice that girl has on her. I don't know all of the words yet, but I'm working on it. And yes, all of the songs that I latch onto like this have to do with broken hearts, self loathing, pain, etc. Go figure.

 There's a fire starting in my heart,
reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark.

Finally, I can see you crystal clear.
Go ahead and sell me out and I'll lay your shit bare.

See how I'll leave with every piece of you.
Don't underestimate the things that I will do.

There's a fire starting in my heart,
reaching a fever pitch and it's bringing me out the dark.

The scars of your love remind me of us.
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all.
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless.
I can't help feeling we could have had it all, rolling in the deep.
You had my heart inside of your hands, and you played it to the beat.

Baby, I have no story to be told.
But I've heard one on you and I'm gonna make your head burn.
Think of me in the depths of your despair.
Make a home down there, as mine sure won't be shared.

The scars of your love remind me of us.
They keep me thinking that we almost had it all.
The scars of your love, they leave me breathless.
I can't help feeling we could have had it all, rolling in the deep.
You had my heart inside of your hands and you played it to the beat.

Could have had it all, rolling in the deep.
You had my heart inside of your hands, but you played it with a beating.

Throw your soul through every open door.
Count your blessings to find what you look for.
Turn my sorrow into treasured gold.
You'll pay me back in kind and reap just what you've sown.

We could have had it all, rolling in the deep.
You had my heart inside of your hands and you played it to the beat.

Spellcheck

Dear Members of the Press:

Since we've decided to bomb Libya and all, do you think maybe we could all agree on how to spell Khadafi? I swear, in one news program this morning, I saw it spelled at least three different ways. Is it Khadafi or Gaddafi? Or Qaddafi? Moammar or Momar? It's like the whole Osama/Usama thing all over again.

Maybe we could, I don't know, ask him how he'd like his name spelled? Or check his driver's license or something?

I don't recall anyone having this problem with Hitler.

Sincerely, A

Of Mice and Men

Since becoming a homeowner, I've become much more intimately acquainted with various household tasks than I ever would've wanted to. For example, five years ago, I would have willingly wagered with you that I would go to my grave without ever having snaked out a drain line. Now, I'm such a pro that I can give other people pointers on how to do it.

Drain snaking? Check. Ice maker fixing? Check. Washing machine hose cleaning, vermin relocation and extermination, dishwasher de-hard water scaling, check, check, check.

But every once in awhile, I make Kenny do something. And always with mixed results. Which is why, I think, we now have the current mouse we have for our computer. I have yet to figure out why anyone might need to be able to control the mouse for their computer while standing six feet away. But if you ever do, then just send my husband to Office Depot.

On the plus side, once I get a computer screen that's 60 inches wide, I'll be able to surf the net in the dining room and cook dinner in the kitchen at the same time.

I Can Haz Refund Now?

For the first time in my tax-filing history, my itemized deductions FINALLY count for more than the standard deduction. I feel like such a grown-up! I had no idea it was so worthwhile to actually itemize all of the donations I've made to the Salvation Army--who knew that 10 garbage bags full of men's, women's and children's clothing is worth over $3,000?

Perhaps this year, I'll finally get up the courage to donate the other 10 garbage bags full of old baby clothes, Emmeline's stroller, pack-n-play, etc. (I just can't 100% fully commit to the idea of not having another baby long enough to get rid of them. I think I need to go be around a two-year-old for awhile--that usually does the trick.)

Anyway, I wonder what useless item my husband will want to spend our refund on this year?

With Apologies to Stephen Hawking

This was, hands down, one of the funniest interviews I've seen on The Daily Show, ever.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
Ricky Gervais
http://www.thedailyshow.com/
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor & Satire Blog</a> The Daily Show on Facebook

Murder, Crow-Style

Like a certain other New Orleans blogger, I've always had a fascination with crows. I don't know what it is about them--I guess I just think they're incredibly cool birds, with their jet black feathers and eyes that, to me at least, have always seemed to emanate intelligence.

As mentioned in a couple of previous posts, I work on the roof of the Tidewater building, now the Tulane SPHTM. Next time you're driving into the city on I-10 and get close to Canal Street, look for the Tidewater/Tulane building--the relatively tall building right next to the now-defunct Radisson (which is right next door to the now-defunct UNO Technology Building, which is right next door to the now-defunct Days Inn--thanks, Katrina!) that has the big red and white antenna on top.* See that trailer attached to the roof up there? The one with the Tulane logo on it? That's my office. Sometimes it scares the hell out of me that my office is a trailer on the roof, which makes up the 25th and 26th floors of the Tidewater Building, but it survived the Cat 3 winds of Katrina, so I figure I'm okay. (And the view is amazing--I can see the Mississippi and Lake Pontchartrain, depending on which window I'm looking out of.)

Ode to the South

I'm in Seattle right now, at a conference on global health. What can I tell you about Seattle? It's so clean here. So green here. So walkable. So Pacific Northwest. Temperatures in the 60s, which feels like a godsend, considering our unrelenting 90+ degree heat in New Orleans.

It took me 12 hours to travel here yesterday. Apparently, it takes less time to travel to Peru from New Orleans than it does to travel to Washington State. And last night, I had a really weird dream where I decided to turn around and fly home for the night and was then in a panic, trying to figure out a way to get back here again in time for the conference this morning.

Did I mention that I can see the Space Needle from my balcony? The balcony which, by the way, I can't smoke on unless I want to forfeit a $250 deposit. (Don't tell anyone, but I've snuck out there a couple of times and smoked anyway. And yes, I recognize the irony of the fact that I'm sneaking cigarettes on the balcony while attending a global health conference.)

Cat People

Don't get me wrong, I love cats. I think I've had at least one cat, sometimes two, in my life since around the time I was four. But some people take it a bit too far, I think. Like the woman in the elevator on Friday. She was deep in conversation with another woman, who asked her about the picture pinned to her chest. They then proceeded to have a long conversation about her "babies"--their ages, how they were doing developmentally, etc. I assumed the entire time that they were talking about the woman's kids. And although I thought it strange that she would have a picture of her children pinned to her chest, I was willing to let it go. But no. The woman had a picture of her three cats pinned to her chest. I'm sorry, y'all, but that's just weird.

I suppose I also have "crazy cat people" on the brain lately because my next-door neighbor is one of them. This is the woman who, when my 12-year-old cat died about a year ago, asked if she could keep him. She wanted to have him cremated and keep his ashes. I thought it was a bit strange, but it spared me the trouble of having to dig a hole in the backyard, so I said sure. I had another cat, Betty Kitty, who decided to move in with the next-door neighbor shortly after Emmeline started walking. Let's just say that Betty Kitty wasn't one of E's biggest fans. Betty Kitty lived to the ripe old age of 17 and died a couple of weeks ago. I'm sure you can guess what became of her earthly remains.

Up to the Mountain - Patty Griffin

Up to the Mountain - Patty Griffin



I went up to the mountain
Because you asked me to
Up over the clouds
To where the sky was blue
I could see all around me
Everywhere
I could see all around me
Everywhere

Sometimes I feel like
I've never been nothing but tired
And I'll be walking
Till the day I expire
Sometimes I lay down
No more can I do
But then I go on again
Because you ask me to

Some days I look down
Afraid I will fall
And though the sun shines
I see nothing at all
Then I hear your sweet voice, oh
Oh, come and then go, come and then go
Telling me softly
You love me so

The peaceful valley
Just over the mountain
The peaceful valley
Few come to know
I may never get there
Ever in this lifetime
But sooner or later
It's there I will go
Sooner or later
It's there I will go

Dear Blogger.com:

It would be helpful if you could re-program your spell check function to recognize the word "blogger."

Sincerely, ALM

The Week(s) In Review

So yes, I'm still alive. Kind of.

It's been a very busy couple of weeks, in between work, Mardi Gras, the Saints going to the Super Bowl, the Saints winning the Super Bowl, getting to publish a modified blog post in an online journal, going to the Saints Super Bowl parade, spring cleaning the house, etc.

Let's begin, shall we?

Work is absolutely insane right now, and I've been living, eating, and breathing it lately. I still maintain that it was highly inconsiderate of NIH to set the deadline for one grant application and three grant progress reports, all of which are 20-50 pages long, less than two weeks after Mardi Gras. Poor planning, people. I don't care if you do live in a place where Mardi Gras doesn't exist.

Recently, I introduced Emmeline to computer games. I'm not sure why, but for some reason, it makes me feel less guilty when she's being babysat by the computer rather than the television when I need to do something really important, like vacuum. So anyway, I showed her how to get on NickJr. and play coloring games, Candy Land, etc. Great, right? Yeah, it was, until one night last week, when I didn't think and let her bring a big cup of water (sans lid) in here with her to play on the computer. I also didn't think when she came running into the kitchen to grab a towel. (I believe I was busy vacuuming or something.) So, fast-forward about 20 minutes, when I go to tell her dinner is ready, and find her sitting there with a panicked look on her face, in front of a still-dripping, madly beeping laptop. It died shortly thereafter, bless its heart. So I was without a computer for a while. Note to self: no more food or beverages allowed around the laptop if you're under 30.

And sadly, I can't even bring myself to be all that mad at Emmeline for trying to sneak the destruction of the computer past me. I'm sure all children her age are sneaky to some extent, but she is my child. When I was a kid, I made trying to get things past my parents into an art form and can't help but wonder if she somehow inherited the trait. I still get constant hell from my family about the time when I was about E's age and wrote my name on the wall with a pen. I then denied it up and down, backwards and forwards, and had all sorts of answers as to who would write my name on the wall. And why. I don't think I ever admitted that I was the one who wrote on the wall. (Although in hindsight, I probably should've picked something else to write if I were going to try to deny culpability.)

As I said, my husband and I are doing some spring cleaning right now, which resulted in an extremely entertaining fight about what else but the vacuum cleaner? Kenny decided that the reason there's so much dog hair and dirt in our house is not because we have a golden retriever who sheds about eight pounds of hair a day, but is because although I vacuum the house about three times a week, I'm not vacuuming properly. That's right, folks, the man who is apparently more afraid of our vacuum cleaner than our dog is, and who therefore never touches the thing, told me our house wouldn't be so dirty if I would just clean better. I'm sure you can imagine where I told him he could stick the vacuum cleaner hose. I would also like to point out that the next time the vacuum cleaner made an appearance, it was because he was the one doing the vacuuming.

So that's about it. My life in a nutshell. Did I mention that there was also Mardi Gras? And the Saints winning the Super Bowl? And a Super Bowl parade? All of which I had lots of great pictures of, about 2/3 of which were on the computer? That Emmeline spilled water all over? And then it died and I lost everything on it?

Sigh. Guess I'll go vacuum now.

Please Don't Leave Me - Pink

I don't know if I can yell any louder
How many times have I kicked you out of here?
Or said something insulting.
I can be so mean when I wanna be.
I am capable of really anything.
I can cut you into pieces.
But my heart is broken.

Please don't leave me.
Please don't leave me.
I always say how I don't need you,
but it's always gonna come right back to this.
Please don't leave me.