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.
12.22.2009
12.18.2009
Go Saints
This article is making the rounds, both on the blogs and by email. I admit it, I teared up a few times when I read it.
Saints the Soul of America's City
Go Saints!
Saints the Soul of America's City
Go Saints!
12.15.2009
Conversations With A Four-Year-Old, Volume Seven
E: Look, Mommy--I made you a snowman at school today!
Me: Wow! That's really nice! Can I keep it forever and ever?
E: Why do you want to keep it forever and ever?
Me: So that someday, when you're all grown up, I can look at it and think about when you were a little girl.
E: Oh. So you want to keep it until you're really, really old?
Me: Uh, yes.
E. Okay. But I want it back when you die.
Me: Wow! That's really nice! Can I keep it forever and ever?
E: Why do you want to keep it forever and ever?
Me: So that someday, when you're all grown up, I can look at it and think about when you were a little girl.
E: Oh. So you want to keep it until you're really, really old?
Me: Uh, yes.
E. Okay. But I want it back when you die.
12.04.2009
Who Dat?
I became a Saints fan in 2001, in the unlikeliest of places--my hometown of St. Simons Island, Georgia. Kenny and I were living there, during the brief experiment in which he tried life outside of New Orleans. As anyone who is or loves a native New Orleanian knows, they can't stay away too long--they always come back, eventually.
Kenny and I didn't last very long in Georgia. Kenny tried to like it, and we had a lot of fun along the way. We spent a lot of time at the beach, which I had missed desperately. We made several good friends--people that I hadn't known growing up there and that I'm still friends with today. We got married in the chapel I'd always hoped to marry in.
But there were just too many things that were foreign to him, like getting off of work at midnight and being unable to buy beer. Or last call. Or not being able to buy vodka at the drugstore. No Mardi Gras, no Jazzfest, no crawfish, no where y'at?
Kenny and I didn't last very long in Georgia. Kenny tried to like it, and we had a lot of fun along the way. We spent a lot of time at the beach, which I had missed desperately. We made several good friends--people that I hadn't known growing up there and that I'm still friends with today. We got married in the chapel I'd always hoped to marry in.
But there were just too many things that were foreign to him, like getting off of work at midnight and being unable to buy beer. Or last call. Or not being able to buy vodka at the drugstore. No Mardi Gras, no Jazzfest, no crawfish, no where y'at?
Why I Should Buy Stock in Fire Extinguishers
Tonight, my husband decided that our toaster oven is disgusting and in need of a good cleaning. I think that's an excellent idea, and I'm all for someone else cleaning something in this house. But I'm a little bit worried about his technique, which consisted of thoroughly spraying the entire inside of the toaster with oven cleaner and then hosing down the entire thing, including the heating elements, the electrical cord, etc. I think I'll go make some toast now.
To those of you who aren't regular readers, this is the same man who set himself on fire last year by deciding that pouring gasoline on top of the lit fire inside of the chiminea that Santa brought him was a good idea. That didn't go so well, either. Think lots of flames and a midnight trip to the drug store for burn cream.
P.S. If you ever come to my house, you might need to know that the fire extinguisher is under the kitchen sink.
To those of you who aren't regular readers, this is the same man who set himself on fire last year by deciding that pouring gasoline on top of the lit fire inside of the chiminea that Santa brought him was a good idea. That didn't go so well, either. Think lots of flames and a midnight trip to the drug store for burn cream.
P.S. If you ever come to my house, you might need to know that the fire extinguisher is under the kitchen sink.
A Question for the Ages
Along the lines of the old "If a tree falls in the woods" question: if New Orleans City Hall is only open four days a week rather than five, would anyone really notice? And would it really make a difference? Would it be possible for the majority of the staff at City Hall to be even more inefficient and incompetent than they already are? I, for one, don't think it will make much of a difference.
And also? C. Ray? Screw you and your race baiting. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way to Dallas.
And also? C. Ray? Screw you and your race baiting. Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way to Dallas.
12.03.2009
The Little Cheerleader
A cheer, made up by Emmeline:
We are the dolphins.
We're going to beat you.
No, you're not.
Go Saints!
We are the dolphins.
We're going to beat you.
No, you're not.
Go Saints!
12.02.2009
30 Minutes with a Four-Year-Old, or Short Attention Span Theater
Last night, during a viewing of Merry Madagascar, I decided to record everything Emmeline said in the 20-or-so minutes it takes to watch a pre-recorded, 30-minute show. This is for those of you who think I'm exaggerating when I say that if Emmeline's awake, she's talking.
8:00 p.m.
E: Mommy, why do they have bananas?
Me: I guess so they can eat them, sweetie.
8:01 p.m.
E: Mommy, how did they make that balloon?
Me: You'll learn that in chemistry class, dear.
E: Look, Mommy! Melman's head is on fire!
8:00 p.m.
E: Mommy, why do they have bananas?
Me: I guess so they can eat them, sweetie.
8:01 p.m.
E: Mommy, how did they make that balloon?
Me: You'll learn that in chemistry class, dear.
E: Look, Mommy! Melman's head is on fire!
11.17.2009
Conversations With a Four-Year-Old, Volume Six
E: Mommy, where do you think unicorns come from? Because I think they come from Texas!
Me: Really? How come?
E: Well, I've never seen any unicorns in New Orleans or in Georgia, so they must all be in Texas.
Me: Hmm. Maybe so.
Me: Really? How come?
E: Well, I've never seen any unicorns in New Orleans or in Georgia, so they must all be in Texas.
Me: Hmm. Maybe so.
11.13.2009
Dear Charles
You've been gone for 8 1/2 years now. How is that possible? And is it really quite possible that I think about you at least once, still, every day? It seems that way, but sometimes, I'm not sure--it's like when you try to check to see if you've fallen asleep, but then realize that in order to do so, you have to actually be awake. Or when you realize you really are doing two things at once, like reading and singing the lyrics to a song at the same time. Am I the only one who does that?
Anyway....I can't be 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure that I still think about you at least once every day. For some reason, it's usually in the morning, on my way to work. It's become almost a habit, even, to have some random thought of you right around 8:15 a.m., right around the time that I've turned onto Jena Street--the part that's so potholed that you have to smile each morning, as you pass the "Go Slow or You Will Kill Your Car" sign that someone affixed to a telephone pole.
So, what do I think, when I think about you each morning?
Anyway....I can't be 100% certain, but I'm pretty sure that I still think about you at least once every day. For some reason, it's usually in the morning, on my way to work. It's become almost a habit, even, to have some random thought of you right around 8:15 a.m., right around the time that I've turned onto Jena Street--the part that's so potholed that you have to smile each morning, as you pass the "Go Slow or You Will Kill Your Car" sign that someone affixed to a telephone pole.
So, what do I think, when I think about you each morning?
Malcontent
Do you ever have one of those nights where you question what you were thinking when you agreed to get married and have children? I'm having one of those nights.
I'm not real worried about it--I've been in this relationship for 15 years (how is it possible that I'm old enough to have been in a relationship for 15 years?). I'm not real concerned that this is going to be the big one that does us in.
But still, sometimes, I just want to bitch and kvetch on this blog. I started this blog as an online journal, after I lost all of my journals in Katrina. And I stayed under the radar for the first 2-3 years, with no one reading this blog but me. But now, knowing that there are at least a few people who read this blog regularly and a few more who stop by every now and again, I feel more of a need to censor myself.
I tell y'all about the good stuff, the mundane stuff, and the bad stuff, especially when it comes to certain parts of motherhood, Katrina, and life in the City of New Orleans. But I don't talk about the days when I'm ready to strangle my husband. And I won't talk about it now, other than to say, once again, I'm having one of those nights.
We've been together 15 years, and I'm fully committed to us being together until death do us part. But that doesn't mean it's always easy, right? I love him, but good God, does he irritate me sometimes.
I'm not real worried about it--I've been in this relationship for 15 years (how is it possible that I'm old enough to have been in a relationship for 15 years?). I'm not real concerned that this is going to be the big one that does us in.
But still, sometimes, I just want to bitch and kvetch on this blog. I started this blog as an online journal, after I lost all of my journals in Katrina. And I stayed under the radar for the first 2-3 years, with no one reading this blog but me. But now, knowing that there are at least a few people who read this blog regularly and a few more who stop by every now and again, I feel more of a need to censor myself.
I tell y'all about the good stuff, the mundane stuff, and the bad stuff, especially when it comes to certain parts of motherhood, Katrina, and life in the City of New Orleans. But I don't talk about the days when I'm ready to strangle my husband. And I won't talk about it now, other than to say, once again, I'm having one of those nights.
We've been together 15 years, and I'm fully committed to us being together until death do us part. But that doesn't mean it's always easy, right? I love him, but good God, does he irritate me sometimes.
11.04.2009
Proud Moments in Motherhood
I swear, she's not really flipping the bird in this picture, even though she is. If it helps, she didn't know she was doing it. (Or so I keep telling myself.) I think it was a redirected nose-pick attempt, once she realized the camera was on her. Anyway, look--a fire truck!
How to Irritate the Piss Out of Me*
Be a pedestrian in New Orleans. Walk up to the light and see that you have the "don't walk" signal flashing at you. Look at me in my car and see that I have a green light. Proceed to walk into the crosswalk anyway, and then walk as slowly as possible, making me miss the entire green light waiting for you to cross the street illegally.
Alternately, look at my car, traveling down the street at 40 miles per hour, and decide that right then would be a great time to walk directly in front of my car, causing me to slam on brakes and scare the hell out of myself, while alternately fantasizing about running your ass over.
Repeat, 3-5 times per day
What is it with the pedestrians in this town? I really wish I could explain to everyone that the old adage, "the pedestrian always has the right of way," does not apply when you're disobeying traffic signals and/or walking directly into oncoming traffic. And don't even get me started on tourists in the French Quarter who think we're Disney World and not an actual functioning city.
Deep, cleansing breath.
*I would've preferred to call this post "How to Annoy Me," but Dooce already claimed it.
Alternately, look at my car, traveling down the street at 40 miles per hour, and decide that right then would be a great time to walk directly in front of my car, causing me to slam on brakes and scare the hell out of myself, while alternately fantasizing about running your ass over.
Repeat, 3-5 times per day
What is it with the pedestrians in this town? I really wish I could explain to everyone that the old adage, "the pedestrian always has the right of way," does not apply when you're disobeying traffic signals and/or walking directly into oncoming traffic. And don't even get me started on tourists in the French Quarter who think we're Disney World and not an actual functioning city.
Deep, cleansing breath.
*I would've preferred to call this post "How to Annoy Me," but Dooce already claimed it.
Google Search of the Month
I'm sorry, y'all, I know I'm obsessed with the people who end up at this blog via a google search. But I just can't help myself. It's a sickness, I think. I'll try to restrain myself to only posting about this once a month, starting...now....
Funniest search this month? "Do old grits turn into bugs?" Um, no, but if you leave them exposed long enough, the weevils will get into them, along with your flour.
Weirdest search of the month? "Free XXX gris porn." Not weird in and of itself, now that we've established that people are typing "gris" instead of "girls." But whoever did that search ended up spending 21 minutes on this site. What in God's name could they have found that interested them? My mom blogging? My witty banter? I guess I'll never know....
Funniest search this month? "Do old grits turn into bugs?" Um, no, but if you leave them exposed long enough, the weevils will get into them, along with your flour.
Weirdest search of the month? "Free XXX gris porn." Not weird in and of itself, now that we've established that people are typing "gris" instead of "girls." But whoever did that search ended up spending 21 minutes on this site. What in God's name could they have found that interested them? My mom blogging? My witty banter? I guess I'll never know....
10.31.2009
10.28.2009
I Heart SupaSaint
Miami Vice. Although, as a child of the 80's, the SupaLoose video is still my all-time fave.
Signs That I'm A Better Parent Than the Guy Who Made the Cover of Today's Metro Section
Really? Really? You tried to shoplift DVDs by putting them in your two-year-old's diaper bag and then you ran away and left him at Walmart when you got busted? Wow. Just. Wow. And also--point, Louisiana!
Other signs that I'm not that bad of a parent--I have yet to leave Emmeline in the car in August so I can play video poker. And if I did, I'd leave the windows cracked. And maybe throw the dog in there to keep her company.
Other signs that I'm not that bad of a parent--I have yet to leave Emmeline in the car in August so I can play video poker. And if I did, I'd leave the windows cracked. And maybe throw the dog in there to keep her company.
10.27.2009
City Living
K and I had a long talk over the weekend about where we'd like to be in five years. In sum, it all comes down to wishing for a slightly larger house--what we call a "grown up house," which in our minds equals a house with more than one bathroom and less scary neighbors. We would also really, really, really like to find a place to live where we could get cheaper (read, free) school tuition for our child. As Kelly commented, I'd love to be able to put some of the $800/month we're spending on tuition toward a larger mortgage instead.
As I've mentioned before, we briefly toyed with the idea of moving to Slidell about a year ago, namely due to the fact that we could buy a "grown up house" there and E could actually get a decent education at one of the public schools. Kenny brought up this idea again over the weekend--but I have to say, it really turns me off. Not because I have anything against Slidell--I just don't necessarily want to live there. If we could get a really nice house, right on the water, and have a boat and several hundred more dollars a month in disposable income? Sure--I'd be game for that. But otherwise, I'm not really interested in moving across the lake to trade free tuition for more commuting time, hassle, and gas money, wiht the only possible payoff being the chance for a slightly larger fixer-upper house.
As I've mentioned before, we briefly toyed with the idea of moving to Slidell about a year ago, namely due to the fact that we could buy a "grown up house" there and E could actually get a decent education at one of the public schools. Kenny brought up this idea again over the weekend--but I have to say, it really turns me off. Not because I have anything against Slidell--I just don't necessarily want to live there. If we could get a really nice house, right on the water, and have a boat and several hundred more dollars a month in disposable income? Sure--I'd be game for that. But otherwise, I'm not really interested in moving across the lake to trade free tuition for more commuting time, hassle, and gas money, wiht the only possible payoff being the chance for a slightly larger fixer-upper house.
10.23.2009
Okay, Who Forgot to Tell Me That Hell Froze Over?
New Orleans Crime Camera Leads to First Conviction
Well then, we should definitely continue to spend millions and millions of dollars a year on them. And while we're at it, are there any more coastal Communist countries we can send C. Ray to so that he can study their disaster management techniques?
Well then, we should definitely continue to spend millions and millions of dollars a year on them. And while we're at it, are there any more coastal Communist countries we can send C. Ray to so that he can study their disaster management techniques?
Point, Louisiana
Kenny and I have a game we like to play called "Whose Native State is More Embarrassing?" Each time your native state does something incredibly stupid, it gets a point. Bonus points if whatever your state does is so bad it makes the national news.
It all started one night when we were watching a History Channel special on the Klan. Early on in the show, they mentioned that the Klan had originally started in Louisiana; needless to say, I was all over Kenny about his racist, backward-ass state. About 20 minutes later, they mentioned that the Klan had all but died out at one point but then gained a resurgence during the Civil Rights movement.....in Stone Mountain, Georgia.
It all started one night when we were watching a History Channel special on the Klan. Early on in the show, they mentioned that the Klan had originally started in Louisiana; needless to say, I was all over Kenny about his racist, backward-ass state. About 20 minutes later, they mentioned that the Klan had all but died out at one point but then gained a resurgence during the Civil Rights movement.....in Stone Mountain, Georgia.
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