The Season is Upon Me...

I love the holidays. They come racing through my home and my life without much fanfare and are gone before I can catch my breath. Know what I'm talking about? I wish I could say "This year I'm going to be prepared" with absolute certainty. But, I cannot. I'm more prepared, but still not completely ready for them. Who are those people who have their pumpkin pies baked weeks ahead, their Christmas decorations hung in November and all their gifts wrapped by September? I'd like to be one of them; just once.

One of my sister-in-laws (who has a for real gift-wrapping cupboard) usually has all the presents on her list checked off sometime mid August. Honest to god. I've seen her list and her cupboard. It's awe-inspiring and makes me just a wee bit envious. Ironically, I totally suck at gift wrapping, which means stuff goes into bags or gets wrapped by Kevin. But, hey, why couldn't I have an entire gift bag cupboard? I used to have a gift bag drawer way back when but it got nixed/destroyed/thrown out after one of our many moves.

Despite my best efforts, some kid's birthday is announced about 25 minutes before the actual birthday party which means scrambling for a present. I often find myself driving like a mad woman to the nearest TJ Maxx for a gift or gift card. If I'm lucky, I find a gift bag/card of some sort in the check out line and it's a go. More often than not, however, I end up stuffing a gift into some random bag with a tag that says "Merry Christmas Grandma" on it, which I'm ripping off the bag as my kid is exiting the car on the way to the party. It's way too freakin stressful and it's at those exact moments I curse the gods who have not given me the "organized mommy" gene. Damn you, organizing gods! I want a gift bag shelf or rack or yes, even drawer.

This year AFTER Christmas, I will go to a big box store and buy extra gift bags, tissue paper (you can NEVER have enough of this stuff) and cards. Every now and then I hit an especially inspiring moment and buy a handful of tasteful, not too offending birthday cards for such emergencies. They ALWAYS get used. Right now, unfortunately, the only birthday card I have in my emergency drawer has a photo of a scary looking dad with a creepy clown face wearing a "Hugs not Drugs" tee, holding a crying baby. Inside it says "Congratulations. You're officially one year closer to losing it". Not the tamest card, for the majority of the population. So, there it remains, hidden away for that certain person with that certain "je ne sais croix". (forgive me, french friends for butchering your beautiful language)

This week we celebrated Thanksgiving with Kevin's parents and a group of close friends. My ex sister-in-law was also in town with her partner and they came as well. It was a bit strange introducing her as my sister-in-law and her partner. My one neighbor looked at me like "huh?" If she was my sister-in-law, didn't that make the man she was with my brother? Yeah, no. I did a little bit of 'splainin. One of those "Awkward family photos" cards would be good at that precise moment.

Anyhow, we had discussed and agreed upon a menu a few days ahead of the date but that didn't mean there weren't a couple of last minute runs to the grocery. Those go without saying. I wanted to have some colorful mums and pumpkins lining the porch but had to settle for my son's toy shotgun and watering can. I wanted to set the table with clever turkey ornaments and colorful napkins but settled for a Christmas table cloth and paper dinner napkins (which I had to run to the store for 2 hours before dinner time). Had I been more prepared, I coulda been a Martha Stewart contender.

Now the turkey leftovers have been gobbled up and guest linens washed. I should have a few weeks reprieve; but, I don't. This week alone I have a massive work presentation, a birthday, a major anniversary and the looming deadline of ordering our family Christmas cards. Oh, and two dentist appointments, my book club meeting and a school seminar. Yeah, me. I don't want to sound all whiny and pitiful, but I am a little overwhelmed.

On the positive side, I have already bought a Christmas tree, some gifts for the family and tentatively booked a girls night out for my birthday. With my husband's hours drying up quickly, I am in no place to ask him to take off work for my birthday or anniversary. We can always go get a drink somewhere afterwards. So, I guess I'm in relatively good shape. Yes, I'd like to have all my gifts bought, cards in the mail and Christmas baking done. If I get all my long distance gifts mailed by December 15, I'll feel good.

Next year, however, is another story. As god as my witness; as god as my witness, if I have to lie, cheat, steal or maim; as god as my witness, me, nor any of my kin will ever go unprepared for the holidays again!

It's Your Thang...Do Whatcha Wanna Do

Finding out what your "thang" is sounds much easier than it is. Sometimes what we identify as ours is left over from our childhood and no longer applies. Often times we take on others' thang such as a parent or aunt or ex-boyfriend, and hang onto it for sentimental reasons.Or maybe even just mental reasons...I didn't really love collecting spoons but my mother gave me one or two, as did my aunt and my boyfriend's grandma. Next thing you know, I apparently love spoons. Do I still own them? Nope. But they did come in handy in a real pinch for my future roommate who needed them to put her contacts in overnight. I'm not 100% sure they weren't used as some sort of drug paraphernalia at one time either. Sorry, mom.

My first year living on my own was a "thang" free for all. I suddenly was collecting "Gone with the Wind" plates, posters and figurines. I missed out on "Madeleine" so now wanted every doll, cereal bowl every made. Was I revisiting my childhood? On some level, yes. I discovered I loved the simple music and message of Stompin Tom Connors who of course, had a connection to my childhood as well. Suddenly, I was his biggest fan. I had Tom birthday parties, a handmade Tom t-shirt, attended Tom concerts...another collection from Firestone Road, my family home.

The first apartment I shared with a man was all about collecting mid century furniture. We scoured flea markets, auctions and antique stores. We amassed gorgeous pieces, though they were without any real pedigree. They were pretty. I loved my playing in my pretty house. But, I grew up and grew apart and moved on to a new phase in my life.

And that my friends, is why our "thang" changes. We move on and what we love, are passionate about or find fascinating changes too. Think about it. Ever had a hobby that sort of burns out with time? You know, you've taken up knitting with the intent of making everyone you know a beanie cap, a pair of slippers or a tea cosy? Two caps in and you start to think of other things to do while watching tv or convince yourself there's nothing good on at all. That's fairly normal.

But there's a difference between a hobby and a passion. Hobbies can be left alone for weeks on end. Passions may not always be acted upon, but the fire never stops burning. I've had a few hobbies in my time. Salsa dancing, swing dancing. Today, it's zumba. But my passion for politics and change has never burned out. I've volunteered for some candidates, cursed others...I read political columns on a regular basis. My need to do something to contribute to change is always burning in the background.

Since moving to NOLA I've decided that I can work to make change by allowing others to speak their mind and share their ideas on how to make the city better. I created a discussion forum for New Orleanians to talk about their passions. So far, it's been a positive experience but I'm ready to kick it up a notch. I want more speakers, more forums, more discussions.

So, here's a shameless plug. If you have something you are burning about or something burns your ass, think about sharing that with a wider audience of other passionate persons. Sign up for a Point 8 NOLA forum. Contact me and we'll put it together. But, if it has anything to do with little spoons from Little Rock or Spokane, count me out.

This is how we do it

Not to pooh pooh anyone, but yoga in the park is so 1990s. Brassxercise in the park, however, is where its at. Getting funky surrounded by Mother Nature is far more invigorating than heavy breathing in a dark room with a bunch of people who are allergic to showers. Just sayin...

Of course in order to take part in such an event as Brassxercise, you need two things; Dancingman504 as your instructor, and brass band music. If you live in or have ever been to New Orleans, chances are you've encountered both. You rarely find one without the other. If there's a festival, second line, jam or concert in town with brass bands, you're sure to find Dancingma504 there doing his thing.

Earlier this week I had the pleasure of taking part in a Brassxercise class in a park near by my house. Someone in the neighborhood was kind enough to forward me the listserv link with the invite on it. They sent it my way because they know I love dancing, exercise and brass bands, and am kooky enough not to give a crap what other people might think if they happened to see me getting down in the park on a Monday morning.

The class started with me, then a neighbor and her boyfriend/mother-in-law. Shortly after we began, my husband's band mate was walking by on his way to breakfast. I called out to him and he made his way over to say hello. Dancingman504 took this as a sign that Richard was interested in his class. Richard is far too polite to turn anyone down and so he stayed. And sweated. And shook his tail feather.

We were quite a sight to see. One guy passed us on his motorbike and was so intrigued, he did a loop of the park, swung back by us and parked his bike directly across the street. So, we hooped and hollered and put on a show for him. Confession time: it doesn't take much to get me shouting, clapping and generally carrying on, especially if its for someone else's benefit. I'm a cross between a show off and a shit disturber, with a bit of an exhibitionism thrown in.

The best part of all...I'm not alone. There are many of us who excel and/or thrive on mini states of madness. Dancing in the park, in extreme heat on a weekday morning with a native madman speaks to lots of New Orleanians. This is how we do it.

It Takes an Algiers Point Village

I love my hood. Living in the Point is like being a member of a secret club. How do I know this? Cause I'm a full-fledged member. And, because my son announced this on the way to school this morning. And because I am a trusted village member who has several key interactions which are tall tale signs of acceptance and membership.

Here are some of the things that make me a villager:

1. I watch/have over several kids from the neighborhood on any given day/night
2. I'm a member of a book club.
3. The woman who runs the local coffee shop knows what my drink is.
4. The couple who run the local wine shop know what my poison is.
5. My dog has "friends".
6. I've been invited over for dinners by neighbors who didn't know me 10 years ago.
7. I've met the Praline man.
8. I can hear the local rooster in the a.m.
9. I've already pissed off people who park in front of my driveway.
10. People wave and say hello.

I realize joining the neighborhood association is probably the easiest way to become a member, but I'm thinking the other ten reasons are more subtle and say more. So, maybe I won't join the APA just to test my theory.

How do you know your a member of your village?

It's a Small World After All

My husband has a saying - "It's a small world, but I wouldn't want to paint it." I'm not sure who actually coined that phrase, but it comes in handy a lot. Especially here in New Orleans. There have been so many instances over the past few months of this experience, I can hardly fathom where to begin. Suffice to say, the phenomenom is not going to go away; it's only going to get bigger. Er, smaller. You know what I'm saying...



To make my life easier, I'm going to start from most recent and go backwards. Some of these are just coincidences, some are because of geographical location (i.e. right place, right time) and some are just plain weird. I love when strange shit happens and worlds collide and you run into, meet up with or stumble into someone who knows someone who knows you. As my friend Silvia says, "There are only six people in the world. The rest is done with smoke and mirrors."



At my current job, there are series of boards and committees, made up of business and community leaders who have a vested interest in making Algiers a better place. One of the members who's also hip to social media requested a meeting today at a local coffee shop. No one else was told of the meeting except my boss, who also agreed to meet. There we were kibbutzing about how to increase our web presence when not one, not two but THREE other board members sauntered in for coffee. And the local representative who shares the office floor with us. And a good friend, who happens to be working on a business plan for our organization... it was much.



One of favorite neighbors hosts a "reds and rice" party every Monday. Turns out one of the regulars is one of our very good friends. He just never told us about beans and we never put it together until we mentioned his name in passing. Sure enough, he turns up on a regular basis. We get to visit at a party of a mutual friend and neighbor. Love it!

On a recent visit to Charlotte, NC I met a couple from Albana, through my friend Vesa. Her family and small circle of friends are the only Albanians I know. At my husband's gig where I met these fellow Albanians, I also ran into my old neighbor Ethan, who is NOT Albanian. Turns out he knows these Albanians too! How is that?

I know this is going to continue to happen over and over again. Now that we are all on social media, the circle is closing tighter. Take a second (ok; it takes much longer than that) and look up the friends of an interesting friend. You're surely to find someone you know, but didn't know your friend knows. Ya know?

No Explanation Necessary

There are some things that defy explanation. Some things are so strange or scary or sick, it's better to leave well alone and try something else -like laughing. That's what my poor kids are figuring out here in New Orleans. We've encountered plenty of situations that I choose not to explain or are beyond my (notice I didn't say their) comprehension.

Here are just a few:

1. At dinner last night there was a trio/duo??? playing music. It was seemingly a duo, with a hunky guitar player and an old gypsy dude playing accordion. However, there was some woman sitting with them who was playing the blackberry. She wasn't listening or contributing to the music, she was just sitting and texting. What was she doing? I couldn't think of a good explanation when the kids asked, so I just left it alone. She's the sitter, I guess.

2. On the way to the car, we passed a very strange dude sitting at a pop up table on the street doing some sort of something at a table. Why did he have a massive python beside him curled up on a chain? Why was he wearing a shirt that said "I Love My Penis"? Why was he there in the middle of the street doing nothing really? I dunno. I couldn't think of an explanation and was grateful my kids just laughed. Off the hook with that one...

3. You can't live in New Orleans and not travel down Bourbon Street. So, we traumatized/initiated our kids by walking down the infamous road one evening. Why was there a silver painted guy with his head sticking out of a silver painted baby car seat on a giant box? Why did he have weird silver baby hands/flippers? Try explaining that one!!! Just cause, is the best I could come up with.

4. Why is there a festival for any occasion? Take the shrimp and petroleum festival... any other year it would seem more strange but somehow in 2010 it works. Sad, isn't it? I love the strawberry festival, the creole tomato festival and the corn festival. Is there a gumbo festival? Yes. If there isn't one for your favorite food, make a suggestion! I'm sure this town would go for it. Why do they make up these festivals? I'm not sure but I know someone, somewhere has an explanation.

5. Why do New Orleanians keep battling the odds? How come hurricanes, floods, sky high crime rates, crooked politicians (current one not withstanding), backward laws and oil spills don't damper their spirits? That one most definitely defies any explanation other than "they are New Orleanians". You gotta live it to believe it.

What do you know that defies explanation? Tell me, please.

It's Never Enough

Ever notice there are some things you can never have enough of? Okay all you pervs...get your minds out of the gutter! I'm talking actual things/items/products/consumables. I swear, there are certain things I desperately try to stay on top of and no matter what I do, I run out of them. Anyone know what I mean?

Here are just a few things I never seem to have enough of:

1. Band aids. I don't know what my kids do with them. Do they peel them off to show off their wounds or is it for the sheer joy/pain of whipping them off? I can buy, say, three boxes and it seems that before long, there's never one left for me if I cut my finger on a knife or get a blister from a pair of shoes. I think if I ever get any extra cash, I'm totally investing in which ever company makes band aids.

2. Bar soap. I know it sounds weird, but our family totally goes through bar soap in massive quantities. Are we really that dirty? I don't even have any bar soap for hand washing!!! It's strictly for the shower. Back when I was single, I thought it ridiculous that bar soap was sold in packs of three or six. "Who the hell uses that much soap?" I used to wonder. Now I know.

3. Sales. I will probably never buy a vacuum from a vacuum store and I doubt I will ever buy an entire room of furniture from one of those giant Rooms to Go places but I read their sale flyers every frickin week, like my life depends on it. I just love reading about sales. It excites me, even if I know I'll never purchase anything from that particular store. Is it mass consumerism at its worse or is it just me?

4. Clean Undies. My kids informed me yesterday that there was absolutely no clean underwear in their undie drawers. I swear I just did their laundry!! How does that happen? Do they put a pair on and then throw them in the laundry a minute later just for fun? Do they change out of their undies every day when they change out of school uniforms and then change again at night when it's time for bed? I know they both have more than 7 pair each and I do the damn laundry every week. Must be one of those laundry mysteries, along with the Bermuda Triangle of lost socks.

5. Pencils. This one really gets me cause I think Keller might actually be eating them. Someone is. In the past six weeks or so that school has been in session, we have bought three, I repeat three, bags of pencils for the kids. Yes, they have a lot of homework; but I don't remember seeing that many pencil shavings around the house! And, here's the kicker; my son's teacher at school says he doesn't ever seem to have pencils in his desk. Maybe if I put more snacks in his lunch box?

6. Smiles. I love to disarm grumps and mudges with a smile. Lots of times I don't really feel like smiling at the person but I do it anyway just for the reaction. Example - there's a woman in the car pool line at school who has NEVER cracked a smile once. Not to any one, any car or any staff member. Believe me, I watch! This morning I gave her a huge smile and she was forced to sort of smirk back. Ha!

7. Donuts at staff meetings. It doesn't matter if you're on a diet, or already had breakfast or don't really like donuts; you'll still eat one at a staff meeting. And, it makes the meeting all that much better if there's a sweet wad of dough involved, doesn't it? There will always be that one holdout who will pass on a donut at the beginning of the meeting. But, if it runs past an hour and they are waning, you know they are going to reach out and grab whatever is left on the plate and shove it in their mouth cause it will stifle the yawn or scream of boredom. I know; I'm that person.

8. Bottles of wine. Don't like wine? Doesn't matter; it's still vital to have wine at home. Unexpected guests or girlfriends in crisis require a bottle of wine, so always have one at the ready. I like the look of un opened bottles of wine. They make me feel like a civilized human being and I know that if I'm totally over it or particularly stressed out by the end of the night, I can always open a bottle of wine and the world will be good again.

9. Paper towels. I'm guilty of polluting the world just a little by using lots of paper towels. I'm not down with wiping the counters with the same stinky cloth that just finished cleaning a load of dishes. Even if I rinse it in bleach somehow I still feel like I'm wiping left over egg all over the counter. So, I use paper towels to wipe stuff down. But, I'm learning with this one. I now buy them in bulk.

10. Blogs. I love reading them. I really like the ones with lots of pretty pictures too. I know you do too or you wouldn't have made it to #10. So, thanks.