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 went to Sunglasses Hut to buy sunglasses like Barack Obama wears. They cost $164 so
I'm going to wait and see if he wins first before I buy them."

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.

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:

• City Council announces tax cut plan
• Prayer breakfast kicks off Muscadine Jubilee
• 4th Grader displays pistol

That sums up North Mississippi better than any tour brochure I've ever come across.

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.

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)

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.

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.'

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.