Happy Anniversary, Mom & Dad!

It’s Mom & Dad’s Anniversary today.

37 years. (If my math is correct…1968, right?)

I think that deserves a standing ovation. I’m standing & clapping right now.

I want to thank them for having a wonderful marriage, for providing me with an example of what a marriage could be and should be. They make it look so easy, which just underscores how much they love each other, and respect each other, and listen to each other, and communicate with each other.

They’ve taught me that you have to be open and honest and willing to listen, and that the other person’s feelings matter, and that you never go to bed angry, and you’ve got to have fun and laugh, and if you can’t laugh you’d all go insane….

As far back as I can remember, they’ve always smiled at each other—not just with their lips, but with their eyes, with their souls. They’ve always held hands, and hugged each other, and said “I Love You.”

I knew, early on, that this is what love is—knowing that you’ll be okay when the other one is near. Knowing that you’ll be okay when you move the entire family to Alaska on a dream because you believe in the other person, totally and completely. Knowing that no matter what curves life throws at you, you’ll be okay—because you have that other part of you to hold you and hug you and tell you it will be okay.

My parents are both strong, independent people on their own, but together they make one amazing team. And I am lucky & blessed to have them as my parents, and I thank God for them every single day.

I love you, Mom & Dad!!! Happy Anniversary!

How do I love thee, Greenville? Let me count the ways...

I'm really, really enjoying being in Greenville. A lot. There is so much to do here, it almost hurts the brain just thinking about it!

On Saturday, we had a nice lunch (although it was around 11, but it wasn't really a brunch, as there were no mimosas) at the Cafe' Medeterrania. It's this little "Espresso Cafe & Wine Bar" that's in the strip mall right next to the apartment complex--but they've got a pretty great food menu, too. Salads, sandwiches, hummous, falafel, pitas...Patrick had a falafel & hummous plate that came with fresh pitas, and I had this meatball/mozzarella/marinara sandwich on toasted foccacia. And this is easily within a 5-minutes' walk from our apartment.

We went to the libraries (note the plural form....not just one!)--the local branch & the big-honkin' main branch downtown. Then we went walking downtown...I love doing that. Just ambling along the sidewalks, watching everyone who is also downtown. Enjoying people-watching, doing some window shopping (and in the case of Llyn Strong Jewelry, a lot of drooling!!!). We were told about a benefit for the hurricane victims: New Orleans Love Feast, where a lot of the really great chefs from some of the really up-scale restaurants were going to cater the benefit. We thought it sounded like fun, so...

On Sunday morning, we got up, dressed up a bit & went downtown to partake in the N. O. Love Feast...and boy, was it scrumptious. I had some of the best scrambled eggs & cheese grits I've ever had; they also had hot beignets; fresh fruit; champagne; all sorts of breads; some of the best cajun catfish I've ever eaten...it was really, really great. And, 100% of the proceeds that were taken in will go directly to the Red Cross (and my law firm is matching dollar-for-dollar, every donation to the Red Cross [up to $5K]--we're already over $4500, which I think is great)--so it was great food for a great cause, and we were able to take part in it.

After we'd eaten ourselves silly, we went walking downtown & sat on a swing that looks directly at the Falls. We sat, swung & watched people, kids & dogs for about an hour, then we waddled on back to the car, left downtown & just drove around Greenville. In all honesty, we were looking to see if the Toyota dealer had any Scions, but they didn't have any out (I know, Dad--you think they're ugly. But I like 'em. And really, I'm just perpetuating the cycle where kids like stuff their parents think is ridiculous. Sort of like rock-n-roll. But with a car.).

We found a store--Rugged Wearhouse--that's sort of in a strange strip-mall. It's a place that you can't be afraid to really dig through stuff. I bought 3 pairs of shorts...they were tagged $3 each, but apparently they were on special, because they ended up being $1.50 each!!! They have a pretty impressive jewelry rack, with Nine West, 1928, Marvella....all for around $3-5. They do have some pretty awful stuff, too...like I say, you gotta dig. Patrick found a cool "Dickies" trucker hat that fits his big melon head, so he was happy.

We just had a really great weekend...the weekend that we hoped & dreamed we'd be able to have when we moved to Greenville. And the dream came true....we're really starting to feel at home here, getting to know our way around, feeling like we're part of a community. Whatever that "it" was that was lacking in Jackson/Finger, we've found "it" in Greenville. I just can't wait until hockey season starts up.

Bad Hair Days

I'm having 'em. Lots of 'em. Yesterday, I think I caught some young children pointing to my head & laughing.

I have a love/hate relationship with my hair. On second thought...make that a "I really don't like it, but it's all that I have & beats the alternative"/hate relationship. My hair is tolerable when I have a straightener on it--at least it doesn't go all Q-tip-y on me in the humidity...I can at least beat it into submission when it's straight(er).

And, it "goes" fairly nicely when it's short--I think because there's less of it to fight back. See--I think that's what it is. At night, when I'm asleep, all the follicles & strands get together to plot against me. And right before, say, a job interview, or, I don't know...my first day at a new job--I have atrocious hair. I mean really, really bad. As it was this time, with this new job. Luckily, they didn't hire me for my tresses...which is a good thing. 'Cuz I would have been, as The Donald likes to say, Fired.

Right now, I'm letting it grow out. It was looking good--it even looks good in my driver's license photo (and how rare is that??? See, I snuck up on it that day...my hair had no idea where we were going when I set out that day....)! And then I thought, "Maybe I'll get it trimmed, just shape it up a bit.” It was to a length that I was able to let the curl come out just a bit and do this cute flippy thing at the ends.

It was a good hair cut; I just think that all the cute parts got cut off.

And then I thought…maybe it’s just got too much curl…maybe with some of the length gone, the curl is just going wild. So then I got a straightener, figured I’d tell my hair who’s boss.

Well, my hair is the boss of me. The straightener took…but only on parts of my hair. So some sections are curly…some are straight. And unfortunately, those sections are on opposite sides of my head. So you look at me from the left: curly! You look at me from the right: straight! You look at me dead on: lopsided!!!

I think the people at work refer to me as “That girl with the weird hair.”

Before I walked out of the door today, I stopped, turned to my left and went into the bathroom & rewet my head. It was either that, or cry. So, I managed to do something halfway decent with it (at least hopefully the children would stop pointing & laughing, whereas I know that they’d sell tickets with the way it had looked before the rewetting), and faced the day.

I just hope that whatever my hair is doing, wherever it’s trying to go—it gets there fast, and stops exacting this revenge on me. Because my parents are coming to visit, and I’d sure like to have good hair when they get here.

Mixed Blessings

I've tried not to be all-consumed by the aftermath of Katrina. It's not that I don't care, but I'm just afraid of being so overwhelmed with all the images that I'll just be forced to curl up into a ball & hide.

I've been okay so far, but one image really got to me. A helicopter was lifting a man and a young girl to safety, and I noticed the man's pant leg flapping in the breeze. It looked like a grey sail against a toothpick. That's when it hit me, and I started to sob. This man had been slowly starving to death, leaving his legs the size of my wrists. Then I got angry. Very, very angry. There is no way that someone can explain to me why these people did not have every available resource at their doorstep immediately.

I don't want to turn this into something political--I think this has gone beyond a Republican vs. Democrat thing. I think that, as President, the buck stops with George. I don't care who was supposed to call who, or whether or not a State of Emergency was declared in a timely manner. I think that if you saw the images of Katrina on your TV, with all those pretty colors swirling around, you knew it was going to be a devastating storm, wherever she hit. And knowing that, plans should have been in place, so when Katrina made landfall, troops were dispatched, supplies were sent right then, rather than waiting until a phone call was made, asking for help. I see the President as being the Patriarch of our melting pot family, and I do think that it was his responsibility--not just as President, but as a citizen of this country in a position to do something--to make sure that proactive measures were taken. And he didn't.

This is America, and we're one of the richest countries in the World. We rush in to save others so quickly, and yet it seems like we've shown the world how inept we are at saving ourselves. I just think it's so sad...and everytime I close my eyes, I see that man's legs. And I try not to cry.

I am also conflicted, because I saw the storm, saw how big it was, and all I could think of was, "Please, not my family. Please miss my family." Which means that I'm wishing the storm on someone else...which makes me feel guilty (and then angry, because anger is easier to process than guilt) when I think of that man's legs.

I'm very thankful that my family is safe. I posted the below on the Goat Roast (another blog, sort of a family conglomeration of sorts) and wanted to share it with everyone:

With everything that's happened in the past couple of days, I just wanted to be thankful for the little things.

I'm thankful that when I go outside, I don't see everything that I know and love completely destroyed by a force of nature greater than anything I could have ever imagined.

I'm thankful that I don't see devastation everywhere I look.

I'm thankful that when I turn on my faucet, clean, drinkable water comes out. In fact, it's so plentiful that I use it to water my plants outside.

I'm thankful that when I tinkle or poo, and push down on the handle, I hear a reassuring "flush" as it all washes away.

I'm thankful that I'm not crammed into a large gaming facility without air conditioning, without working toilets, with a stench that can only be described as "indescribable."

I'm thankful that I still have everything that's dear to me: photos. Jewelry. Family heirlooms. Cats. Husband. Family.

I'm thankful that I can walk outside without fear of seeing a dead body float by, or worry about contracting some disease because the water I'm wading through is hazardous.

I'm thankful that I can put gasoline in my vehicle, even if it is over $3/gallon--because I have a car. I have money. I have a gas station nearby.

I'm thankful that I have the luxury of watching the horror unfold on my comfy sofa, with my faux fur blanket around me, and a belly full of chips & salsa.

I'm thankful for my Charmin Ultra to wipe away my tears as I hear about more people dying because they needed water, food, health care; to wipe away the tears as I hear of more looting, more deaths--not because of the reasons mentioned before, but because the looters have moved beyond food and water, and have turned to guns--and have then turned on their fellow man.

I'm thankful that tonight my husband will come home, crawl in bed next to me, wrap his arms around me, stroke my hair and tell me everything will be okay. Somehow. Someway. But it will be okay.