Friday, September 27, 2013

Moving, All Things Must Go!

Dear reader!
I am officially on Wordpress now. Alas, I enjoyed Blogspot, but it was time for a change. The URL is
colletteseline.wordpress.com.

I won't delete this one for a while so that if anyone stumbles across it late in the game they know where to go. Goodbye, Blogspot. I'll miss you!

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Grandparents Day

Today the Grandparents surprised me at work. It's Grandmother's birthday and they were going to eat right down the road at Pinetta's, and stopped by to see if I could come. When I got into the truck, Grandmother (Marcine) is holding a bouquet of flowers from Pops (Ned).

When we get to the restaurant, we sit against the wall. On the wall behind my head is an old picture of a large group of people, with one chubby man in a white polo nearest to the camera. The picture looks about thirty years old.
"Who is that?" Pops asks me.
I turn to the people partying behind my head. "Him?" I point to the man.
"Yeah," Pops says with a slight hint of "duh."
"Well, I don't know."
"Doesn't that look like Chris? I don't remember his last name, remember Chris mamma? I think that's him."
I'm sure it is...
Later in the car as we were driving past Outback, we remark how they are never open for lunch.
Marcine: "I'd hate to own a restaurant."
Ned: "I'd hate to own a dairy farm."
Marcine: "Oh yes I'd hate that, too."
Ned: "Twice a day and seven days a week you milk 'em."

All I can do is smile in the backseat while the fuzzy sermon plays over the radio, the only thing to ever come over the radio in their car.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Weekendness

I'm not even in the mood to write, but this weekend is going to be so wonderful that I couldn't not share.

Tonight, Kelsea McCrazy comes in to town. AND. I. CANNOT. WAIT. A big group of us are going to sit in some dark restaurant and order wine and eat and talk until we are physically unable to do either any longer.
Saturday is possibly a Walk for Parkinsons in NOLA with the family. We've decided that if it's raining, we're not going. Hey, we already donated when we bought the tickets to enter, OK???
Saturday LSU also starts playing real teams. Auburn, here we come.
AND SATURDAY WE ARE GOING TO THE SAINTS GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I'm pretty excited. Thanks to Andy's folks, we will be spending Sunday in absolute bliss. That is, if bliss is pounding your opponent into the grassy end of story that is the Super Dome! Yeah, I'm pretty sure that sounds like bliss.

Happy weekend readers, go getcha daynce own.

Friday, September 13, 2013

Soulpancake

Did you know? 
Did you know that there are SO many awesome people in the world who simply want others to feel awesome and happy as well? You probably run into more of them than you know. Not just those taking action, but look at all the onlookers, they love it! When it comes to the core of things they just want to celebrate the fact that they're alive! If you're ever feeling down about humanity, please, PLEASE visit Soulpancake on Youtube. It might be the greatest channel on there, just saying.

Here's some extra happiness for you friday :)
Love.

 

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Thank You

There are moments, almost ALWAYS on remarkably sunny days, where I am overwhelmed with how great things are. Do you have these? Mine usually involve driving. And Starbucks. There are just certain instances, accompanied by great music, where you can't help but be overwhelmed with how blessed your life is. With the full stock of undeniably awesome people that have been put into your life. With how much life your life is full of. By grace I've been given a family and a job and a working car and people who would do anything for me. I have all that! Me! And it fills me up to the eyeballs, until all I can do is say thank You.

Guide to Being a Man

   


     Men, if you don't read anything I post, please, please read this. A girlfriend sent this to me and I could read it again and again. Pass it on like wildfire. Not all of them are applicable, but the ones that are are worth it.
     With a generation of men (and women) maturing slower and SLOWER, I found this to be brilliant. Brilliant because it DOESN'T say that to grow up means to drop everything interesting and to become reasonable. It says that one can grow up into a Man, and that being the Man is what makes you the rockstar. Enjoy.

http://www.businessinsider.com/the-gselevator-guide-to-being-a-man-2013-9

P.S. My personal favorites?

When in doubt, always kiss the girl.

Ignore the boos. They usually come from the cheap seats.

Yes, of course you have to buy her dinner.

Read on, dear reader, read on.





Tuesday, September 10, 2013

The Upcoming and the Underrated




Here is the new trailer for a HBO series coming up, True Detective.  Harrelson and McConaughey sounds like a great pairing to me. Harrelson, who is always brilliant, plays detective partner to McConaughey, who is best in grim roles such as his characters in Mud and Reign of Fire. These darker American tales that take place in desolate areas of the country fascinate me. The grey lighting and stripped pine in winter, the thick almost inaudible accents of the characters, is all so earthy and honest that one can't deny how fascinating it is. The feel of True Detective reminds me of the Sundance Festival's Best Picture Winner a few years back, and what you might not know, the film that really started J Law's career. If you like the first trailer, check out Winter's Bone for what is one of the most brilliant, underrated films in the past decade.

Monday, September 9, 2013

Writing Exercises

I thought these were excellent exercises from the University of Iowa's website. I must admit I am guilty of some of these newby writer habits, and think that the examples he has given as ways to break from those habits are wonderful, and sound really fun!

So here you go, get your practice on.

http://www.uiowa.edu/~writingc/writers/handouts/FictionWritingExercises.shtml

Cambodia at the Office

     Today as I arrive to work I find our giant glass door all fogged over, and I know the office inside is an icebox. Condensation rolls down the large window as the cool glass tries to fight off the Louisiana morning heat. I open the door and am hit with what feels like a gust of arctic wind and my boss' voice. "I'm shaking!" He yells from his office. I crane my head around the doorway and see him squeezing his arms close to his body. "If I'm cold, you know it's bad." My boss has the core body temperature of an active volcano. The longer I sit in my chair, the stiller my blood gets. My typing becomes more rigid as my fingers begin to freeze up. "My nails are icing over!" I think, and then realize it's only nail polish. I feel like a toy I used to have; it was a plastic ice cube with a fake beetle inside, meant for putting in people's (i.e. mom's) drinks as a prank. I now feel for the beetle.
     My boss, Steve, leaves the office and heads for the studio. Fifty typos later I decide I can't take anymore, and prop open the office door with a small, maroon chair. As I stand securing it against the door, I instantly feel the heat begin to creep over the threshold. I feel like meat being pulled out of the freezer. Happily enough, I sit back down at my desk, fingers slowly finding their ground again as blood  flow returns to them. And then I sense it; a stickiness on my keyboard, a slight *stick, stick, stick* each time I hit a key. My computer screen slowly becomes fuzzy and wet. The humidity is setting in. I feel it between my fingers, feel my baby hairs rebelling in a wild dance of frizz. Suddenly everything is heavy with hot, wet air.
     My office is a Cambodian jungle, there are vines tracing their way around my ankle, swallowing my computer screen with brush, the glass door now laden with wet growth, dimming the sunlight from outside. Poisonous plant life disguised as deep purple flowers spit up around me, and the roots are thickening around my ankles and arms. I see the ice cube beetle, black and red, skirting along my mouse pad which is now a bright mossy patch. "Help!" I scream, but the studio walls are too thick, and my boss can't hear me through the open door. I muster my strength, rip my feet from their lush shackles, each root popping as a yank my feet forwards. As I move through the vegetation, I spy a Spitting Cobra hiding upright among the tall weeds, keeping a close eye on me. I skirt past him, tripping over  the roots of a Strangler Fig Tree, but recovering as I grasp the leafy door handle. I yank the chair away and push the door shut!
     When I turn around, my office is it's boring self again, with khaki walls and grey popcorn carpet. Everything is dry and freezing. "Better than the alternative," I think as I make my way back to my leather rolly chair. As I sit down and face my computer, my legs are already regaining their goosebumps. I open up my email and start sending out my reminders. As I reach for the mouse to send them on their way, I barely see him: the red and black beetle scuttling off the edge of my desk.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Seize the Day Boys, Make Your Lives Extraordinary

If you're anything like me, you often compare your failures and successes to those around you, be they famous or friends, (or famous friends.) I think, "I can sing alright enough, but never as well as someone on the radio." OR, "I'm an alright artist; I can't ever imagine being good enough to sell anything." Someone runs faster than me. I can't dribble, I can't hit a tennis ball, etc. etc. It's often not the failure, but the failure in comparison to someone else's success that discourages me. And I can hear over and over again not to compare myself to others, that I'm great simply because I'm me! But I think you also need to remember that failure is part success. That if you're not failing every now and then, you're not pushing yourself out there far enough. As they say, out on a limb is where the fruit grows. If you don't believe me, here's a really nifty video to prove it.



Friday, August 30, 2013

Accountability for All

http://themattwalshblog.com/2013/08/28/dear-son-dont-let-robin-thicke-be-a-lesson-to-you/

Read that.^ Did you get that? I'll say it again just in case. READ THAT.^ We need more men and women like this passing messages on to their kids.

Friday Wisdom

Today I woke up grumpy. It's very rare that I wake up on the wrong side of the bed, (not that I'm the world's best morning person) but I'm hardly ever grumpy when getting up.
But today I was.
I got in my car, was actually able to turn left out of the parking lot, (this NEVER happens) which is infinitely quicker to work. A slight chisel away at my grumpiness.
Then I hit the school zone right in front of work, where people find it necessary to go 10 under the school zone speed. You must realize that at that point, we're almost at a rolling stop. +1 for grumpiness.
When I walked in, my boss was on the phone with someone. I grabbed the coffee pot and silently made my way to the Canteen. Once I got it brewing, I took a seat and waiting, eating my Starbucks breakfast.

Then James walked by.

James is a maintenance man here. I can hardly understand a word he says if I don't watch his mouth closely. He is tall, has a shiny black head, and is the epitome of one who "lumbers." He has an incredible green thumb, and always pops into my office to say hello, call me Smiley, and tease me about whatever he can. He has a cup of coffee in his hand today, and, as always, a smile on his face.
I must admit I was looking forward to not seeing anyone during my breakfast. Still, I smile back.

A conversation starts. I ask him what he's going to do this weekend, as it will be Labor Day.
"Romance my lady."When he says this, he closes his eyes, purses his lips, and lifts his chin up. He looks just like Bill Cosby. And then James began to talk. I mean *really* talk. Not jokes, not laughs; talking. He began to explain that his wife has made him the man he is. He talked about gratitude, about smart ladies with character, how God gives you green lights and fresh starts, even after 30 years of marriage. He told me that so many men were ungrateful, which was sad because he thought there were so many good ladies out there. We talked about how many fatherless homes there are, and maybe that's the reason. He talked about how evil will put doubt in your heart, because doubt divides people from one another, and when you feel alone, "That's when he gets ya." He told me I always seemed full of life. I told him I was raised by a woman who is. After a while his radio went off, calling for anyone with empty hands to come to the courtyard. James looks down at his coffee cup, tells me to have a good friday and leaves through the stair exit.

Two minutes later I'm in the elevator with the coffee in my hand. It's quiet, except for the sound of the big capsule slowly sinking to the first floor. Closing my eyes I think, "You're pretty incredible,"and tell my Father thank you. 

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Things to be happy about

Things to be happy about on a Thursday:

A loving boyfriend
A family who shares knowledge and cool facts with one another
A family that is so tight, without one black sheep.
My Praline Pecan cup of coffee. (thats right.)
A good boss, who likes to be funny and likes to ask where his super suit is. (See below, so brilliant :)
Alone time
Shortcuts around traffic one only has knowledge of by living here her whole life
A good hair day
An upcoming paycheck from a job I never dread going to
Ordering original artwork for the first time
The prospect of cousins
Working with Godly people who inspire me everyday
Feeling football in the air again...TWO MORE DAYS!!!!
Treating oneself to something new
The fact that a mystery person came into the office last night and left motivational signs everywhere
Sock buns and how surprisingly easy they are
Incredible places, like this:
http://www.weather.com/travel/top-12-places-you-cant-go-20130825?pageno=1
And lastly, a good boss, who likes to be funny and ask where his super suit is. (See below, so brilliant :)

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Win.



2 weeks friends. Two weeks.

Who Dat? Dat Ellen.



So ready for the start of the new season, I guess Ellen is too! A laugh for your Thursday.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Merry Maryland

     This is my favorite part of the work day. Each morning, after I've trekked to the kitchen, made the coffee and trekked back, I sit down at my desk. Here I take the time to prepare my coffee, nibble a blueberry BelVita bar, (to eat is human, to BelVita is divine) and make my to do list. It's usually very quiet, my boss in the studio and the TV on the daily 8:30 mass. It's a peaceful time.
A friend recently posted about to-do lists and I must say, they are quite nice. I used to think that if you couldn't get everything done on your to-do list, you weren't really capable of them. I have learned how untrue that is. Someone told me, I think possibly Aunt Lisa? that there will always be things that get bumped down the list to the next day. That's just the hierarchy of the list. 

     On a more energetic, less technical side note: We went to Maryland this weekend! (We being Andrew and I.) What a whirlwind blast off blur of a trip. We left very early Thursday morning, driven to the airport by a very loving brother who I still owe coffee. We ate a crummy twenty dollar breakfast and boarded. Poor Andrew, with his long legs and long feet. We were on such a tiny plane, and the hour to Atlanta seemed to take at least twice that. (Fact: I have a go-to sleeping position on airplanes. I pull my knees up onto the seat with my feet flat on the cushion, I fold my arms over my knees and lay my head down in my arms. Sort of like a vertical fetal position. I must say I was grateful for it, watching Andrew turn his legs at a 45 degree angle to fit in the row.)
     At the Atlanta airport, we saw the actors who play Mr. Brown and Cora, two characters from Madea. Here they are on the left and right:


     When we arrived in Maryland, Ben, Andy's best college bud, picked us up. Here are some of the things that ensued over the next few days.
     Thursday night we went to a party and I slept. Right there on the couch, slept. I was so exhausted from going to bed at 2 and waking up at 5 that I didn't give a dern. I did taste a peanut butter chocolate beer called Sweet Baby Jesus before I dozed off, and mama was it good. 
     We went to a concert in D.C. I loved D.C. With all of it's tall apartments, all painted a different stripe of color with iron steps leading up to someones sliver of living space. Once while we were driving I looked down a street to my left and saw the Capitol hovering over all the little apartments on the horizon line. 
     Saturday was spent in Baltimore. We went to the Harbor and were very disappointed to find a sold out aquarium. So we walked to the top of some huge famous hill. Guys, this was a HILL. I was sweating by the time we reached the top. It had the most incredible view, people walking dogs, children swinging on a playground, brave souls doing sprints up the hill, people getting married in Spanish, and a peculiar pitbull that would allow his owner to walk him about halfway down the steep hill only to pull the man with all of his might back to the top. Here's a picture of the view, and a brief paragraph on the interesting history that Tour Guide Ben gave us.

On the night of May 12, following the Baltimore riot of 1861, the hill was occupied in the middle of the night by a thousand Union troops and a battery under the command of General Benjamin F. Butler, who had entered the city, under cover of darkness and during a thunderstorm, from Annapolis via the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad.[5] During the night, Butler and his men erected a small fort, with cannon pointing towards the central business district. Their goal was to guarantee the allegiance of the city and the state of Maryland to the Federal Government under threat of force. This fort and the Union occupation persisted for the duration of the Civil War

     Then we met Ben's parents in Greek Town, a suburb of Baltimore like China Town is to New York. They were so awesome. Ben is a biggin, standing at 6"7. His father is about 6"4, and his mother about 6"2. She is full Greek, went to Greek school, speaks Greek, and agreed that "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" was completely accurate and very similar to how she grew up. The restaurant was a place they had been coming since she was a little girl. Ikaros, the restaurant, was named after the island her grandfather was born on, and so they were not allowed to eat anywhere else growing up. When we enter his parents are waiting, I instantly spot them by their height and beaming faces. A man at the door in a billowy shirt with rolled up sleeves recognizes Ben. They shake hands and the man smiles with crinkly Santa eyes. He has a thick Greek accent and a bushy grey mustache that curls on the ends and has a small V parted right at the center of his top lip. 
The food was incredible. The fish still had heads on them. Mrs. Mary read the Greek words on the menu and explained them. His parents talked nonstop with us about Breaking Bad and Walking Dead. When we all left to say goodbye, they hugged and kissed us, his mom giving me an extra tight squeeze and a whisper in my ear, "Find Ben a nice girl!" I leave happy, full, and agreeing with a statement my family made a year ago: Greek is the cousin of Cajun. 
     That night we went to Andy's friend's house. Their whole college gang gathered there. They are such a fun bunch, always laughing, cracking jokes, playing good music and getting way too competitive at games they've played since freshman year. Uniquely enough, these guys and girls have stayed best friends since the very start of college, some from the very first day at orientation, and they are a blast to be around.
     It was sad to leave. The four day weekend seemed to last only a minute. Eventually we landed in B.R. late sunday night, and once a again, a loving, coffee deserving brother picked us up. The weekend ended with the three of us watching the Breaking Bad episode we had all missed. It was a happy, happy weekend. 

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

It takes time.

“When I was younger, I saw 20-somethings sitting at coffee shops and thought they must be so happy now that they’re older and have their lives together. Now I’m the 20-something and I see that life doesn’t slow down and fall into place just because you’re old enough. Being older just means that you have to make time to stop and enjoy that coffee.”

Monday, August 12, 2013

Preach Brother

Ashton Kutcher tells it like it is

Happy Monday

The 4:30 alarm is skipped over as a clumsy finger slides across the snooze button.
Three hours later, I rise, like one of the Living Dead.
My body rocks to and fro like a ship tossed on choppy seas as I wander into the bathroom.
My hands are a hundred pounds, my legs a thousand.
In the mirror, my eyes open only enough to focus on a small part of my face. That's the place that gets make up today.
Thirty minutes later I stumble out of the house in bare feet, banking that there are shoes in the car.
Half way down College Drive my eyes finally open all the way to get a full look at a five car pile up.
Is it my fault? How did I get here from Essen Lane? Who's car is this?!
I see a guilt ridden twenty year old crying as she's written a ticket for the fender bender.
Whew, not my fault.
Finally I arrive at work, my body still heavy with sleep.
And there it is, that dark life elixer that permeates the whole office.
The sound of it trickling into a black coffee cup is enough to open my eyes to their full capacity.
I sit in my chair, pour in the thick cream that forms ribbons in my cup until it is mixed into a cloud of tawny.
Just one small sip brings life to my body
And I wish you all, a happy Monday.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Things from today

There is a crazy man in the elevator closet. At least that's what he called it. I call it the closet in my office that makes strange noises and plays home to a giant metal mechanism. The crazy man is some sort of cable guy. Not like television, actual cables. All day long he strings hundreds of feet of blue and red and green covered wires throughout the building. He's always got them looped in one hand, tugging in a rythme at one cord as he walks backwards and lets it across the ground. He looks something like a cowboy in khakis. He has bad posture, wears his clothes too big like a child would, likes ULL football better than LSU, and thinks the director of the tech department sounds like this guy:      
He's not the clinical kind of crazy, more so the consipiracy theory kind. He talks to me from the elevator closet, and I don't understand a word he says. Each word is low and grumbles and the end of one runs right over the beginning of another, so that I have to wait for the very end of his sentece to put it all together. Often times I just give him an "I hear ya," in agreement.

The TV in the office plays an old black and white movie with fuzzy lighting, and a woman wearing a black dress is smashing a man's head in a piano lid.

I just remembered that at 10:00 last night, I woke up, went downstairs to turn off my crock pot, and ended up cracking open my leftovers from dinner and shoveling as many bites of shrimp primavera as I could in my mouth before going to bed. Where did that come from?

Why are chips in the lips of coffee cups so charming?
I never get upset if I see a cup has chipped or cracked somehow, in fact, I'm almost pleased. Why is that?

In an hour I have lunch with Mom and Garrett, and am looking forward to it SO much. My boss has been out of town all week, and while I enjoy the freedom of blogging during work, it has been an incredibly boring 5 days.

And this isn't a happening of today, but I dyed my hair a lighter blonde. So far, I love it!

Thursday, July 25, 2013

Jim Gaffigan - Beyond the Pale

Some Jim Gaffigan for your Thursday afternoon

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

What the outrage over race should really be.

http://www.foxnews.com/on-air/oreilly/2013/07/23/bill-oreilly-president-obama-and-race-problem

This article says it all. The race issue has exploded over the last month as the verdict in the Treyvon Martin case was released. What the article focuses on is the condition of the African American community. Bill O'Reilly speaks on the outrage that has erupted over this case because of the involvement of a "white" Hispanic. Yet nothing is being said of the black on black crime that happens every day. His biggest point: right now the African American culture is it's own worst enemy. This has nothing to do with slavery, this has nothing to do with oppression. This has to do with hard facts and numbers that show the degradation the society is doing to itself-and that addressing it is not racism. It has to do with the lifestyle that pop culture promotes and the toll it takes on the young African Americans who deserve more. It is not that they ought to be alone in their fight to resurrect the downward path this culture is taking; it is that it must first start within the culture itself. 

Monday, July 22, 2013

I used to write on legal pads.

It's been odd switching from retail hours to a 9-5 job.
I remember the days of hating, HATING that I worked Friday-Sunday. Even now, when I drive past  a busy car dealership, sit in a restaurant, buy a new top, I sigh a sigh of relief that I am not working in a world that requires clocking in on weekends.

However, I haven't adjusted to not having week days off. Not that I really need a break in the middle of the week due to workload. It was more the quiet pace of being off in the week. Very few were at home, and I had all day to wake up, make breakfast when I liked, grocery shop, (slowly) and begin cooking around 4:30 or 5. It was heaven. To think, I used to actually ENJOY grocery shopping. I would spend a few hours in a coffee shop, writing or drawing, and then make my way down to the store when I was good and ready. I remember enjoying the feeling of standing in line behind a lady with a full cart, and not feeling an aggravated sense of urgency. I try to live this way now, but feel that one occurrence is completely dependent on the start and stop time of the next.
What it comes down to is that creativity takes practice, and I'm not practicing very well. Something is always more important. And what then, if you have more than one hobby? Perhaps it would help to assign each week of the month to a specific one.
Should passions be so structured? Probably not. Then again, "It takes time to extract joy from life."

Thursday, July 18, 2013

Now that's family entertainment.



Why can't they make comedy like this anymore. I have loved this show for years. Bill Cosby's standard for clean humor and family unity was the fuel behind this great show. In scene's like this you can feel the closeness of the cast, and I absolutely love it.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Perspective on the Trevyon Martin case protests.




One man's eye opening take on the protests after Zimmerman's verdict. Some explicit language.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Cosby

A little Claire Huxtable for your Tuesday, friends.


The Secret



Twenty something year olds are all searching for a secret. Like there is a great hidden answer somewhere in the world that will fulfill this constant feeling of needing something, needing more.

And they go EVERYWHERE to find it. The Grand Canyon, Africa, and really, just a cool beat up car and pair of mint colored ray bans on a drive up the East coast with do.
I wonder if this constant searching is due to a lack of true human connection.
I wonder if people invested, I mean REALLY invested, in the community around them, would they still need to search?

Friday, July 12, 2013

My Brightest Diamond


If you recognize this, it was on Sarah's blog a year or two ago. Today I went there in hopes that there would be something new (*ahem*) and rediscovered it. I love her voice, her words. I can't imagine this feeling. They say you think you know love until you have children, I think here you can fully see it.

Happy Friday to you all.





Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Tootsie

Dennis Hoffman explains something that sadly women already get. Pretty incredible to witness a man feel the same full effect, and to feel his guilt.

http://www.upworthy.com/dustin-hoffman-breaks-down-crying-explaining-something-that-every-woman-sadly-already-experienced-3?c=gt1

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Since when was I an adult?

There is not enough time in a day.
However, there are plenty enough to-do lists.
When did it happen? This to-do list outplaying the time?
Sure, it happened in college. But there it made you special, the busy scholar.
Here, in this new reality that has existed for ages, it only makes you an adult.
I can think of nothing but a continuous can of unopened green paint.
Or the caulking gun.
The heaping pile of dirty linens
and the unpurchased washing machine.
The dishwasher that emits the smell of smoke when it runs,
I should probably look into it.
I'll put it on the to-do list.
There is an untapped wealth of creative concepts.
It takes time to be artsy.
It takes time to write blog posts, and my lunch break is over.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

There's always money in the banana stand...

The EOM
The mother of all mothers
The doozie.
The thirty day thorn in my side
It's the End of the Month report.

Let me explain how this goes down. Every receipt that goes through my clinic is hand written. On these receipts are the cost of the patient's visit, which may vary depending on anniversaries, refferals, roudy patients, no shows, no meds, nice patients and a million other things. On top of their visit cost is a package of pils, which may vary depending on supplements, subtleties, v.i.p's and varieties. At the end of every day, I combine the visits and the packages, and make sure it all matches my cash check credit and debit recordings.

Oy Vey.

Today, a massive report was due, breaking down each one of these. Long story short, my cash was off. My CASH.WAS.OFF. Do you understand the implication of this? And we're not talking about the over kind of off, the UNDER kind of off. For the next four hours I sat on the phone with Mrs. Lisa, the head manager, as we tried to locate the discrepancy. So many things were going through my head. "Can my employees hear this? Where the hell is this cash? Why did I drink that monster? I wonder if she'd hear me peeing through the phone...Why am I sweating so much? Seriously WHERE THE HELL IS THIS CASH!?!?!




Four hours later we figured it was a simple switcharoo of numbers, a bad case of dyslexia, so to speak. It was fine, all was solved, Mrs. Lisa laughed, I peed, scraped the mountain of papers off my desk and went home. The drive home consisted of no music in the car, an attribute of only the most stressful days. However, one phone call to Kelsea McCrary turned all that around.
And tomorrow is friday! Here is what is to follow for the weekend

Emoticonswallpapers.comOff by noon and endless hours of coffee talk with Kelsea, that is about a year overdue

Emoticonswallpapers.comOut on the town in NOLA for Mary's bday with the old gang on Saturday

Emoticonswallpapers.comJazzfest, The Black Keys on Sunday. Hocheemama.

So, it's all looking up from here. Tonight has in store Brat Pack movies from the 80's and the most delicious three dollar wine a girl could ask for.



Random facts for Thursday:
The best moments of each individual Seinfeld character is on
I love the familiarity of the small puddle in the arc of the coffee spoon
It won't stop raining, but it's this extremely light sort of rain. Not like a mist, but not a drizzle either. Almost like confetti when someone wins the Super Bowl
It's interesting to watch movie's before teeth whiteners



Saturday, April 20, 2013

Impressionist



Has anyone ever seen this guy?? He is so brilliant! I think this may be one of the best impressions I've ever seen. So much fun to watch, enjoy!

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Sunday, March 24, 2013

Home Alone

It's happening, the phenomena of being home alone. 

I love my house. My mom has created a haven unlike anything I could have imagined. HOWEVER. The parents are out for the night and I am home alone. *Oh Snap.* Suddenly every sound is a footstep, avery light beam is some other worldly creature. "Is it nice? Malicious? Here to kill me? Need a pick me up?"
What the dogs don't know is that I have rallied them around me for courage. I cleverly shut the bathroom door where they love to sleep and have forced them to encircle me on the couch. It's probably from all the ghost talk I had with mom and Mindi about a week ago... Since when was this house built in the 70's? Why do I feel like I can hear 8mm film flickering somewhere? I should put on country music, no ghost would stick around for that. Why is it that the only night in a month that it storms in Baton Rouge is the night I'm home alone. I'll just have to pull a Kelsea and sleep with Hamilton the hammer under my pillow.
Oh boy, morning can't come soon enough! The power of the imagination is INCREDIBLE. I started thinking about that, how the brain can illicite an actual physical response from the body-sweating, pounding heart, heavy breathing, pretty powerful stuff. Therefore I am desperately trying to get the ghoulish face of a ghostly old man out of my head. Aha!! I'll watch cat videos! I bet even the ghoulish old man would get a kick out of those

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Gloria

Modern Family is a TV show that I can't help but love. Meet Gloria, she kills me.

The Answer

     I stand with my computer in hand, screen propped up, balancing the bottom like a waitress. The charger, which Apple has managed to make as obnoxiously large as possible, is piled on my keyboard, along with my USB and phone.
"Come on Shaft!" He looks up at me from the couch with those pouty brown eyes. "Let's go outside!" His tail begins to beat against the leather as he slides off nice and slow, picks his toy squirrel up from the carpet, and follows me to the door. Holy bejeezus it is cold. I think the weather gods like to get drunk right around this time of year. I can see them up there, glass of some mystical drink, "Hey Ed, let's make it 40˚ tomorrow! That'll throw these gripy bastards for a loop!"

     So here I sit at the kitchen counter, watching Amelie stare outside through the lowest pane of the back door. If you open it, she goes halfway out, and when she realizes you're not going with her, she pauses, turns back around, and walks back in slow huff. And stares some more.
I started today with a bang, waking up with a call from Andrew, hopped right into applying for jobs and sending emails, and that's when I came across an email from Grandad. In the email he quoted St. Stephen, and at the end, asks us all the have hope for humanity. I loved that phrasing. People constantly want to argue, "you're wrong for thinking humanity is good, it's mostly bad." And then the counter argument  "Humanity is still good, there are some really bad humans out there, but as a whole, we're alright." Forget the argument. It's not about all good or all bad. Have hope, whichever way you lean, have hope. To address each person you encounter with hope, that's a strong, beautiful thing. To give them the occasion to rise up, that is the answer. 

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Delightful



Don't say it was delightful; make us say delightful when 

we've read the description. You see, all those words 

(horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like 

saying to your readers, "Please will you do the job for me."



-C.S. Lewis

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Tender

Being tender and open is beautiful. As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed. Too sensitive. Too mushy. Too wishy washy. Blah blah. Don’t let someone steal your tenderness. Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things. Whether it’s a song, a stranger, a mountain, a rain drop, a tea kettle, an article, a sentence, a footstep, feel it all – look around you. All of this is for you. Take it and have gratitude. Give it and feel love.

- Zooey Deschanel

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

The life of line work

Often times when I'm looking at something that I want to draw, whether it's a picture or a real life image, I get caught up in the realism of it all. How does that line sit? Where does this shadow end? I obsess over each aspect, and yet my favorite style is anything with loose flowing lines, splotchy ink and waves of overlapping color. Then I found this picture, I absolutely love the way that it is done.




Look at the small trees along the sidewalk. They have no tops! No limbs, no leaves, nothing. Because if they did, they would ruin the vibe of the doors and steps and windows. He didn't draw them because he didn't have to if he didn't want to! Look at the two buildings with the gate in between them. He separates the buildings in order to have the gate and create a break for yours eyes, but up top near the roofs he brings them back together to keep the crowded illusion of the buildings. So dearest readers, here is a reminder to always see things in a light separate from the obvious, and always challenge yourself. Happy Tuesday :)

Friday, January 11, 2013

Chief

Today, I got paid.
I took part of my paycheck and went down to Michael's, leaving with a new set of charcoal, new pencils, a sketchpad, and a wonderful  sense of contentment.
Now I sit at Starbucks in those closely placed tables I had mentioned in a previous post. I'm about three feet down from an older married couple eating marble pound cake. They talk about his love for chocolate and their children's Facebooks. They laugh often at one another. The wife is very funny, and her husband thinks so. He has a soulful voice and a large thick mustache.

At my table, I search for images that would be conducive for a charcoal drawing. In my search, I found a picture of this chief. He jumped off of the endless Google Images page at me. There is so much pride in his look. It makes you wonder, what he was loosing, or had already lost, what he was trying to preserve. My Junior Seminar course in college was supposed to be on all forms of literature, but ended up being focused heavily on Native American lit and history. I've noticed that this happens in just about every class taught by someone with a Phd...the class always seems to be about exactly what they wrote their dissertation on. However, I learned a lot about the modern Native American. Did you know that 70% of their population lives below the poverty line? If you google poorest towns in America, almost all of the top twenty are Indian reservations. They are such a fascinating people to me. Maybe it's because they are so earthy. I think back to being little with the cousins at Gran and Grandad's house, playing orphan children. We would smear berries for paint and smash up little pods that looked like corn for dinner. (No worries, I don't think we ever really ate it.) Perhaps I like the Indians so much because their ways of life remind me of some of my best times in childhood.

It's painful to think of a people with so much history and such a love for the land, spending their days on a rotting reservation in North Dakota. Many of the boys play basketball, with little else to do growing up. And actually, many of them are incredibly skilled, but don't properly complete high school or excel with grades, and are therefor hardly scouted. That is why Sam Bradford is such an icon to the Indian community, he is one of the few successful athlete's of Indian descent.

Mostly, I feel there is so much about the Indian people we don't know. After all  we only know what we know starting with our own arrival. They are a fascinating people, mysterious and heartbreaking.