LAM-I was cranky and hungry so I went home before 5 today to take care of that.
Bean- Oh. Sometimes you say funny things when you're cranky.
LAM- And other times?
Bean- silence
LAM- I walk a fine line between cranky and bitchy? Is that what you're saying?
Bean- Let's just say you could teach a course on cranky.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Tuesday at the office
I once swore Tuesday is the most productive day of the work week.
Monday and Friday are out. Thursday gets close enough to Friday that by the afternoon things are dicey. Wednesday can be solid, too. But Tuesday--so long as it's not raining or a Full Moon or Election Day--Tuesday is the workhorse of the work week.
Now that I'm writing a dissertation, productivity is more elusive and less predictable.
I have identified a consistent mid-afternoon slump though.
During today's slump I got sucked down the rabbit hole that is Facebook.
I still haven't signed up, but I did look at someone's friends--and then someone else's friends--and then someone else's friends. Whoa.
Two themes emerged: most of my high school friends and acquaintances still live in Georgia & most of them put their smiling kids faces on Facebook.
I'm less inclined to go to a high school reunion than I before I saw that.
Facebook, whole days of my life could vanish in your portals.
Hours and hours that I could never get back.
You remain 'strictly off limits.'
Monday and Friday are out. Thursday gets close enough to Friday that by the afternoon things are dicey. Wednesday can be solid, too. But Tuesday--so long as it's not raining or a Full Moon or Election Day--Tuesday is the workhorse of the work week.
Now that I'm writing a dissertation, productivity is more elusive and less predictable.
I have identified a consistent mid-afternoon slump though.
During today's slump I got sucked down the rabbit hole that is Facebook.
I still haven't signed up, but I did look at someone's friends--and then someone else's friends--and then someone else's friends. Whoa.
Two themes emerged: most of my high school friends and acquaintances still live in Georgia & most of them put their smiling kids faces on Facebook.
I'm less inclined to go to a high school reunion than I before I saw that.
Facebook, whole days of my life could vanish in your portals.
Hours and hours that I could never get back.
You remain 'strictly off limits.'
Monday, September 22, 2008
Things fueling my dissertation
- dark chocolate
- Aretha Franklin tunes
- ginger tea
- stretching on yoga mat & yoga ball
- walks around the block to 'get out of my head' for a minute
- cold weather attire to combat the office A/C--I keep a sarong, long sleeve shirt and socks on hand
- Pandora radio. Especially when it says 'We're sorry. We'll never play that song again.'
- Conversations like this with my office mate Josh:
"You know what you should do, Leigh Ann? Whenever you get off task, you should do 50 sit ups. You would be so ripped."
"Josh, I would be an exercise bulimic with a concave stomach and an unfinished dissertation."
I'm going to wait and see if he wins first before I buy them."
Friday, September 5, 2008
text messages saved in my phone (vol. 2)
A semi plowed through the fence into the pasture this a.m. Big pain!
12 hours driving six animals. In Shreveport. A dump. Spilled vodka. woooohoooo.
Remember to pace yourself and hydrate.
Enjoying life as a matriarch?
No he is OK. Just cramping up.
I'm backing away from doomsday scenario for now.
I'm watching my daughter clomp around and it dawns on me she has worn heels more than you have.
I don't think so. Definitely more people know Britney and such.
Car is fine. I got it out of the lot already.
Call me if you want to come shower here. Glad you're safe.
I now call the guys my vanilla and chocolate cabana boys.
Well, bless your hearts.
Good choice. Much better than crossing the AL-MS line just now.
Watching 'Out of Africa' tonight. Thinking of you and your man Robert.
12 hours driving six animals. In Shreveport. A dump. Spilled vodka. woooohoooo.
Remember to pace yourself and hydrate.
Enjoying life as a matriarch?
No he is OK. Just cramping up.
I'm backing away from doomsday scenario for now.
I'm watching my daughter clomp around and it dawns on me she has worn heels more than you have.
I don't think so. Definitely more people know Britney and such.
Car is fine. I got it out of the lot already.
Call me if you want to come shower here. Glad you're safe.
I now call the guys my vanilla and chocolate cabana boys.
Well, bless your hearts.
Good choice. Much better than crossing the AL-MS line just now.
Watching 'Out of Africa' tonight. Thinking of you and your man Robert.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
taxes, Jesus, food and firearms
I left town for Hurricane Gustav, but now I'm back in New Orleans.
This time I returned to a much better outcome than after Katrina.
Only thing amiss in my neighborhood is debris from trees.
I have electricity in the condo and all is well.
For the evacuation, I took a traveling circus to North Mississippi: an Ethiopian, a pit bull and a Californian.
A couple of days later we were joined by another Californian and a New Yorker.
I was the only southerner, so I served as cultural interpreter.
That's a full time job when you're spending five days in MS.
I could elaborate, but the headlines from The Rankin County, MS newspaper say it more succinctly than I could:
That sums up North Mississippi better than any tour brochure I've ever come across. This time I returned to a much better outcome than after Katrina.
Only thing amiss in my neighborhood is debris from trees.
I have electricity in the condo and all is well.
For the evacuation, I took a traveling circus to North Mississippi: an Ethiopian, a pit bull and a Californian.
A couple of days later we were joined by another Californian and a New Yorker.
I was the only southerner, so I served as cultural interpreter.
That's a full time job when you're spending five days in MS.
I could elaborate, but the headlines from The Rankin County, MS newspaper say it more succinctly than I could:
- City Council announces tax cut plan
- Prayer breakfast kicks off Muscadine Jubilee
- 4th Grader displays pistol
Thanks to all who cheered for New Orleans in the storm and checked in to see how I was doing.
I'm 'mighty fine', as my Father likes to say.
Fortunately, this go round, so is my city.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
text messages saved in my phone vol. 1
Is a billion 100 or 1000 million?
I was taught Ohioans are caged animals who escape down I-75 every three day weekend.
Watching Olympics. With all these old athletes think I should do more working out and less watching.
I really wish you were here to help me understand what I am seeing.
No one in the family knows. Not kidding.
John Edwards is done.
Stuck in Land o the Cleves Airport.
On the radio: I fear a new Cher song has been recorded.
I just saw an old lady with a clear cane handle filled with plastic flowers.
We're going to pass on bowling. Hope you're all strikes with your lucky new ball.
Roller Derby is a lifestyle choice.
One team is in camouflage. I can't see them but they must be good. Leading 158-10.
I always think there's another side of the story. Really hard sell to make this one compelling.
My great Aunt Zeph tells me to wear a man's hat when I drive so truckers won't bother me.
El Vez 4eva!
(credit for the idea goes to queserasera.org)
I was taught Ohioans are caged animals who escape down I-75 every three day weekend.
Watching Olympics. With all these old athletes think I should do more working out and less watching.
I really wish you were here to help me understand what I am seeing.
No one in the family knows. Not kidding.
John Edwards is done.
Stuck in Land o the Cleves Airport.
On the radio: I fear a new Cher song has been recorded.
I just saw an old lady with a clear cane handle filled with plastic flowers.
We're going to pass on bowling. Hope you're all strikes with your lucky new ball.
Roller Derby is a lifestyle choice.
One team is in camouflage. I can't see them but they must be good. Leading 158-10.
I always think there's another side of the story. Really hard sell to make this one compelling.
My great Aunt Zeph tells me to wear a man's hat when I drive so truckers won't bother me.
El Vez 4eva!
(credit for the idea goes to queserasera.org)
Saturday, July 26, 2008
A tick in the plus column
Friday afternoon presented another of the reasons to live in New Orleans:
One can always find someone to have a drink with. Even during the day.
A certain software program in the Office Suite (one that rhymes with HELL) was giving me a few issues. I worked myself into a bona fide snit trying to figure it out. Thoroughly irritated, I called my Excel Guy (thanks, J!). He works for a big bank in Houston. Generous though he is with his time--or their time as it may have been--we did not end the conversation with full systems go as I hoped.
Our conversation ended shortly after I insisted 'Yes, I do where the Start icon on my computer is.'
I moved on to a plan B compromise of running my desktop and laptop side by side so I could run two different spreadsheets simultaneously.
That's when I ran into the second snafu: green flags. In the upper left hand corner of each cell. Over 2,000 of them. The only way I could manage to get rid of the flags was to double click in each cell. Individually. 4,000 clicks. Without a mouse since I'd left it on my dining table.
I quickly moved on to yet another plan B compromise: gin.
I called my gin guy (he's local--what good is an out-of-town gin guy?) and said I'd be there in under an hour.
True to my word, I arrived by 3:47.
Everything was fine once I walked through the door; he directed me to the fridge where gin & grapefruit was mixed by the gallon. Raymond Carver wrote 'Booze takes a lot of time and effort if you're going to do a good job with it.' It's worthwhile to collect a few people willing to make such an investment.
One can always find someone to have a drink with. Even during the day.
A certain software program in the Office Suite (one that rhymes with HELL) was giving me a few issues. I worked myself into a bona fide snit trying to figure it out. Thoroughly irritated, I called my Excel Guy (thanks, J!). He works for a big bank in Houston. Generous though he is with his time--or their time as it may have been--we did not end the conversation with full systems go as I hoped.
Our conversation ended shortly after I insisted 'Yes, I do where the Start icon on my computer is.'
I moved on to a plan B compromise of running my desktop and laptop side by side so I could run two different spreadsheets simultaneously.
That's when I ran into the second snafu: green flags. In the upper left hand corner of each cell. Over 2,000 of them. The only way I could manage to get rid of the flags was to double click in each cell. Individually. 4,000 clicks. Without a mouse since I'd left it on my dining table.
I quickly moved on to yet another plan B compromise: gin.
I called my gin guy (he's local--what good is an out-of-town gin guy?) and said I'd be there in under an hour.
True to my word, I arrived by 3:47.
Everything was fine once I walked through the door; he directed me to the fridge where gin & grapefruit was mixed by the gallon. Raymond Carver wrote 'Booze takes a lot of time and effort if you're going to do a good job with it.' It's worthwhile to collect a few people willing to make such an investment.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Not from around here
I got into the elevator this morning in my building.
A woman darted in just as the doors were opening.
'I'm only going to eight. Do most people just walk that few flights?'
Me: 'In this town, people live their whole lives without walking eight flights of stairs.'
A woman darted in just as the doors were opening.
'I'm only going to eight. Do most people just walk that few flights?'
Me: 'In this town, people live their whole lives without walking eight flights of stairs.'
Sunday, July 13, 2008
57.4%
This week has found me considering why it is I live in New Orleans.
A conversation with a friend prompted me to do a back of the cocktail napkin calculation.
The solution: I've been here 27/47 months since I moved here in 2004--that's 57.4% of the time, divided among six different places in as many neighborhoods.
Yet for each time I go away, I come back.
Some of the reasons are practical--I have an office here, friends, work colleagues and I know my way around.
More than that it's the intangible qualities and characters of the place that keep me returning.
I spent evenings over the week wandering through the Garden District to remember some of what's unique and beautiful about life here.
One night I stood on a street corner waiting for the light to change when a guy came rolling by in a white convertible. He was in the opposite lane of traffic to me with his top down. I could smell his cologne. From 15 feet away. While he was in motion.
Another evening, I rambled with a friend and we ended in The Half Moon, a local bar.
We settled into a pleather sofa under a fan near the juke box with local draft beers.
Another patron was on the sofa so I ended up sitting in the middle between the two guys.
Bar talk started and soon enough I knew the guy was an auto detailer with a birthday on the next day. He thought knowing me better might sweeten his celebration and minced no words.
Auto detailer: 'Is he your boyfriend?
'No, he's a friend.'
'Have you got a boyfriend?'
'I'm between boyfriends right now.'
'Oh, so you've got more than one. Think they would they mind if I took your number?'
My friend howled. I couldn't help myself and laughed aloud, too.
Later on he tried again.
'So what kind of work you do?'
'I'm a graduate student.'
'You getting a four year degree?'
'Well yes, I guess it's taken me about four years. Now I'm at the end of the line.'
'What you majoring in?'
'I study Public Health.'
'So you gonna get a four year degree in that?'
'Well, it's a PhD. Like I said, end of the line.'
'Damn. That's remarkable.'
Even with unbearable summer heat, slowly I'm remembering just why it is I live here.
How it is I can't imagine life any place else in the U.S.
This city just gives and gives.
A conversation with a friend prompted me to do a back of the cocktail napkin calculation.
The solution: I've been here 27/47 months since I moved here in 2004--that's 57.4% of the time, divided among six different places in as many neighborhoods.
Yet for each time I go away, I come back.
Some of the reasons are practical--I have an office here, friends, work colleagues and I know my way around.
More than that it's the intangible qualities and characters of the place that keep me returning.
I spent evenings over the week wandering through the Garden District to remember some of what's unique and beautiful about life here.
One night I stood on a street corner waiting for the light to change when a guy came rolling by in a white convertible. He was in the opposite lane of traffic to me with his top down. I could smell his cologne. From 15 feet away. While he was in motion.
Another evening, I rambled with a friend and we ended in The Half Moon, a local bar.
We settled into a pleather sofa under a fan near the juke box with local draft beers.
Another patron was on the sofa so I ended up sitting in the middle between the two guys.
Bar talk started and soon enough I knew the guy was an auto detailer with a birthday on the next day. He thought knowing me better might sweeten his celebration and minced no words.
Auto detailer: 'Is he your boyfriend?
'No, he's a friend.'
'Have you got a boyfriend?'
'I'm between boyfriends right now.'
'Oh, so you've got more than one. Think they would they mind if I took your number?'
My friend howled. I couldn't help myself and laughed aloud, too.
Later on he tried again.
'So what kind of work you do?'
'I'm a graduate student.'
'You getting a four year degree?'
'Well yes, I guess it's taken me about four years. Now I'm at the end of the line.'
'What you majoring in?'
'I study Public Health.'
'So you gonna get a four year degree in that?'
'Well, it's a PhD. Like I said, end of the line.'
'Damn. That's remarkable.'
Even with unbearable summer heat, slowly I'm remembering just why it is I live here.
How it is I can't imagine life any place else in the U.S.
This city just gives and gives.
Monday, July 7, 2008
What I do for kicks
I was at an organic wine tasting for Earth Day.
The guy across from me was a Chemical Engineer.
He approached his wine tasting like the chemistry lab--talking about viscosity and such.
As we got more into the vino we started chatting more.
He asked about my work.
Usually I keep it vague unless I feel like pushing the envelope a bit.
I went for it.
Me: "I study sex workers in Zanzibar."
Him: Gulp. "You're talking about prostitutes."
Me: "Yep. Sex workers is the way we refer to it."
Him: "Well, how do you do that? I mean is it observational?"
Me: "As opposed to participatory? No, I don't sell sex. Nor do I watch others sell sex. So, no I wouldn't call it observational."
Him: (the brightest, reddest face I've seen on anyone in AGES!) "I kind of set myself up for that, didn't I?"
Me: Uh-huh. Cheers.
The guy across from me was a Chemical Engineer.
He approached his wine tasting like the chemistry lab--talking about viscosity and such.
As we got more into the vino we started chatting more.
He asked about my work.
Usually I keep it vague unless I feel like pushing the envelope a bit.
I went for it.
Me: "I study sex workers in Zanzibar."
Him: Gulp. "You're talking about prostitutes."
Me: "Yep. Sex workers is the way we refer to it."
Him: "Well, how do you do that? I mean is it observational?"
Me: "As opposed to participatory? No, I don't sell sex. Nor do I watch others sell sex. So, no I wouldn't call it observational."
Him: (the brightest, reddest face I've seen on anyone in AGES!) "I kind of set myself up for that, didn't I?"
Me: Uh-huh. Cheers.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Things people say
I'm in Memphis.
We were pulling out of a parking lot in my girlfriend's Volvo station wagon when she noticed a guy standing at the sidewalk waiting to cross.
The windows were down so she spoke up to tell him, 'go ahead.'
His reply: 'Bring your ass on' with a sweeping arm gesture as if he were waving a race flag.
We didn't argue with the man.
We were pulling out of a parking lot in my girlfriend's Volvo station wagon when she noticed a guy standing at the sidewalk waiting to cross.
The windows were down so she spoke up to tell him, 'go ahead.'
His reply: 'Bring your ass on' with a sweeping arm gesture as if he were waving a race flag.
We didn't argue with the man.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
You've asked for a blog forever.Forever has come.
For the inaugural post I'm featuring treasures from Zanzibar. From the most recent trip, I brought back a few of everyone's favorites: clove soap & vanilla beans and spiced coffe [sic]
And a new treasure that is priceless.From the Indian owned card shop of Gizenga Street, I give you 'I Hate You' cards.
I have one in every variety my friend Peter could find. I sent him shopping one day when he was bored during the four week black out in Zanzibar.
The inside messages are as flowery as the cards would suggest: 'I hate you when you said you will call, and you never called at all.' 'I hate you for hurting me, and taking away my smile.'
And my favorite: 'Life goes through a phase of loving and enjoying every moment; Now life is going through a phase of regretting because of you.'
I've shared the coffe, soap and spices with friends, but I'm holding on to the greeting cards until someone of the XY chromosome pattern does something worthy. Any greeting card with a semi colon in the message is a keeper.
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