louisiana [TRUE STORY]

i depart from fiction today to write a long-overdue love note to the state that's been my home for the last three years. when i left home to go to law school in louisiana, i was really disillusioned with things as they were. i was in a rut, plain and simple. it was time for a change, time to shake things up. but i had no idea whatsoever what lay in store for me when i arrived in baton rouge on july 31, 2007 to start my career at LSU paul m. hebert law center.

leaving a major city to go back to a college town had its downsides. there's no doubt about it. but a funny thing happened to me as i grew into my new life: as much as i missed what i'd left, i came to love LSU, its people, and the state as a whole. LSU was an amazing place to spend three years. i had brilliant professors who broke me of my old way of looking at the world and rebuilt me into a sound legal mind. i am profoundly different intellectually than i was when i got here, and for that i will be forever grateful. LSU law center made me a mature thinker, and moreover made me a mature person. aside from the main business at hand, though, LSU brought me some incredible people. my nearest and dearest from PMH know who they are. i'm not sure i ever made this clear enough in our three years together, and if i didn't, that was my fault. but this is for y'all: thank you so, so much for all the love and support you showed me. i never would've made it without you. you held me up when i was sure i couldn't go on, you laughed with me, you listened to me. i only hope i can be as good a friend to each of you as you've been to me over the years. i love you all.

and it's weird; i never saw it coming, but it's true what they say about living in louisiana. it's unlike any place else in the country, and probably any place else on earth. i grew up in the deep south; 17 years as a gulf coast kid made me think i understood southern life. i had no idea what i was in for. louisiana is a jewel among places in our country, even with its flaws. there is no place more special. there's a way of life here that can't be replicated anywhere else, and it's something to be cherished. when you read about this oil spill and what it threatens, understand that it threatens something so valuable, so irreplaceable in american life that it should inspire everyone to demand solutions now. the people here have suffered long enough, as rep. melancon so eloquently stated this week.

there's a lot about this place that makes me angry. there's a lot that frustrates me. but for everything i don't like, there are five things i love about louisiana. the deep love i hold in my heart for new orleans alone could fill a book. if you ever need to know about south louisiana, others have said it way better than i could ever say. but know that once you've lived here, once you've laughed all night long on the streets of new orleans with your friends over rum drinks, once you've experienced boudin balls, crawfish boils and cochon de lait, once you've watched the sun find its home in the western sky as it becomes saturday night in tiger stadium, you just know. and you'll never be the same again.

i love my yankee, big-city mid-atlantic home. i am thrilled beyond belief to get back to what i knew before. but i am forever changed. i'm a law-school graduate now, and that's great. but i've also given a part of my heart and soul to the sportsman's paradise, the pelican state, the bayou, the big easy. louisiana is in my blood forever now, and i wouldn't have it any other way. the fleur-de-lis that hangs around my neck is only a small token of the way louisiana has changed me, got into me, and made me who i am today. i love this place for that. always will. so as i get ready to fly back to my old life, i leave a piece of myself behind. i sure never expected to fall for this place as i did. but for what you gave me, what you made me, and what you showed me, louisiana, i have only one thing to say:

thanks.

moving in monday minute [TRUE STORY]

courtesy of ian, as always...

1 - Do you *snort*?
not in the context of laughter. often, i snort with derision.

2 - Our friend has a nickname and it's Daffy. What's your nickname?
magnolia is the one i use the most. in undergrad, everyone called me by my first initial. see, if you put my boyfriend's name together with my first initial, it formed a word. in retrospect, it was pretty freaking retrograde; the man's name, the woman's initial. gaah. i like magnolia. but in law school, people occasionally called me "city girl." that was cool, too.

3 - Do you know sign language?
nope. i went through my ASL phase when i read the baby-sitters club books about the deaf kid, but it never stuck. i wish i knew some, but there are only 24 hours in every day.

4 - What's a sample convo from your hood?
around here, you're likely to hear anything from a mom talking to her kid in spanish to hipster weirdos on their way to the hipster weirdo bar down the street. i have SO missed this neighborhood.

5 - Do you sleep with electronic devices - i.e. laptop, Blackberry, iPhone, etc?
absolutely. just today, i awoke with my iphone next to my head. i ALWAYS have my phone nearby, regardless of circumstance.

a moment for something real [TRUE STORY]

this nice woman's name is michelle, and her baby girl has cancer. just awful. so ian has spearheaded a fundraiser campaign for their family. it's an awesome cause. so here's the link to the paypal campaign:

Click on monkey to donate...please help!

seriously, look at that face. she is one cute baby with a serious, serious problem. this is just about the worst thing that can happen to a family, so if you have anything to give, this is a good cause. thanks.

monday, monday [TRUE STORY]

another monday, another monday minute. incidentally, head over to ian's blog and read up on monkey. poor kid. throw some love her family's way; that's a hell of a thing.

1. How old do you act?
it totally depends on the day and the circumstances. i can be as staid and proper as a grandmother, or i can be thoroughly adolescent. there's no rhyme or reason.

2. As far back as you can remember, what did you want to be when you grew up?
i always wanted to be a lawyer. in 1985, there was a picture of four-year-old me in our local hometown paper, with my face buried in the code of alabama. there were some detours, but if all goes well with the bar exam, i'll have made it to my dream by october, when i'm scheduled to be sworn in.

3. If you were to write a book based on your life, what would the title be?
one step up. it's a springsteen reference.

4. What's something you do that's considered "childish" by most?
i hold grudges like a champion, on behalf of myself and on behalf of others. (a friend of mine has an ex-girlfriend who had better pray to every god she can think of that we never cross paths again, and their relationship ended 10 years ago this summer.) most people don't think that's a very adult thing to do.

5. The last question isn't a question. Write a story of a time of when you or someone you know overcame great adversity.
i've alluded to my mother's issues before. i view my life as a total triumph over weirdness, brokenness and tragedy in that department. i've been lucky. there's no doubt about it.

the en-sleek-ening: summing up [TRUE STORY]

well, thus ends the 30-day yoga boot camp. here are the stats:

classes purchased: 30
classes taken: 27 (missed one for a 101-degree fever, one for the end of law school, and today for the sunburn from hell)
pounds lost: 8-10, depending on the day. it's vacillated.

that's pretty much all i can give you for hard data. but man, oh man, do i feel so much better! i am supremely happy, i'm definitely toned up (especially in my arms), i can do a ten-breath shoulder stand without wobbling, and i'm a lot more flexible than i was at the start. i can put both my heels down when i'm in down dog, i can almost touch my chest to my legs in forward fold, and i feel like my old dancer-girl self again. this is one of the best things i've done for myself in a long, long time. i won't stick to the same strict regime i've followed this month, most likely, especially not with all the craziness to come in may, but i will keep taking classes, and i will work at least some sun salutations into my day as often as possible.

yoga. it works, bitches. :)

destruction [TRUE STORY]

so as i sit here today, there's a giant pile of oil threatening the state i'm about to leave. my god, it's going to be the most brutal ecological disaster we've seen in a generation, if not worse. the beaches i've spent my life on are about to get besmirched beyond recognition. the wetlands that defend this state from hurricanes are about to get wiped out for perhaps a generation. the people who run the national oceanic and atmospheric administration are SCARED. there goes tourism, fishing, the two or three things these folks have left.

i don't know how to articulate my rage. we've been irresponsible for a long time about energy. ah, the insouciance of the american public when it comes to something that's not an immediate crisis. "eh, no big deal. we've got time to figure this out. hey, check out my new yukon denali SUV - it holds thirty-seven people AND their hockey gear!" well, guess what. time's up. miners are dying. oil slicks are about to destroy a large portion of the south. WAKE. UP. sweet lord, something has to be done. and you know what, people out there in the teabagger toddler-ocracy that is the american electorate? IT'S GOING TO SUCK.

things will not be freewheeling and fun the way that the supply-siders told you it would thirty years ago. what we need to do as a country (and by god, this goes for ALL areas of policy, not just this) is to figure out a long-term plan to a) figure out what's wrong, b) prioritize the problems, and c) go about SOLVING THEM. politics is not supposed to be glib, sound-bite friendly, or entertaining. it's supposed to be hard. it's supposed to be smart. it's supposed to take time. if we don't stop electing idiots to office, and i call 'em like i see 'em, we're never gonna get there. you'll end up with stupid, short-sided laws like the arizona "stop all the brown people" rule, that don't SOLVE ANYTHING.

maybe it's me. i am an educated, thoughtful person. (only child much?) but i have one expectation: THINK. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, THINK. what's about to happen to my gulf coast is only the tip of the iceberg if we don't start thinking.

my broken hockey heart [TRUE STORY]

GAAAAAAAAH.

i must've used all my sports magic up with the saints this year. sigh. my beloved capitals. done. just awful. we're now a laughingstock. ovechkin's just a thuggish hack, apparently, compared to angelic north-american saint sidney. this is worse than the 2004 ALCS. hell, at least the yankees GOT to the ALCS that year.

but hey, the nationals are 12-10. yay.

high roller [TRUE STORY]

i was never rich. i was never poor, either. well, at least not that i ever knew. when i was a kid, i never wanted for anything. we had a decent, not-too-special place to live, cars for both parents (and later for me), dinners in restaurants, and many, many, MANY expensive extracurricular activities. i didn't know how much my dad gave up in his life to make damn sure i never had to go without something important to me. (yet another reason why i admire the hell out of my dad.)

so i came to my professional life with a sense of gratitude to the level of pay i received for my services. i always appreciated my jobs, even when they sucked. i came to law school to get a grounding in my profession of choice, not necessarily to be rich. that'd be nice, don't get me wrong; i love me some nice living, fancy hotels, etc., etc., etc. but i've spent the last three academic years studying law not solely for the money. i come to it because i love the law.

but! i am looking at, someday, a significant upgrade in my lifestyle once i get situated in my gig. i went to a dinner last night as part of the law center's fundraising campaign. and i'm not going to lie - the legal profession is some rarefied air for a teacher's kid. i don't know how many of my classmates are used to this life, but there's still kind of a shine to my future to me. maybe that's naive. maybe i have a slightly more retro look at work and wealth. i don't know. but what i do know is that, especially with my dream grad program ahead of me, things are gonna change.

change is good. positive change is better. it will be SO. FREAKING. NICE. to be comfortable economically. but with this upgrade will come some adjustments in my life. it'll be interesting to see where that takes me. the future. hmm. time for me to keep my head, stay true to my roots, and remember where i've been. that'll keep me nice and grounded, wherever i go.

shameless self-promotion time! [TRUE STORY]

your humble blog-prietor has been published. i am pleased beyond belief that people thought enough of my writing to put it in a compilation with some damn fine authors. and since i am nothing if not an accolade collector, i'm sharing this with you. go see me, and a TON of great writers, in the inaugural issue of drop of ink. you'll be glad you did!

changing the mood... [TRUE STORY]

OK, so after the heavy dose of venom last time, i've decided to be silly here. i took these questions from mannland 5 (via the daily dose of reality). here we go...

1 - Why did you start blogging?
i started blogging to take some thoughts i'd been having about my life and extrapolate them to their logical extremes (and beyond, in some cases).

2 - Who's the one blog friend that you would want to meet most in "real life"?
ooh, tough one - they're all so amazing! if i had to pick, i'd say the foggy dew. really, though, i'd like to meet everyone i read. interesting, smart people all.

3 - Why are you always concerned with losing that "extra 10 pounds" when chances are your husband/boyfriend/friends tell you that you look just fine the way you are?
haha. funny you should mention that; i was just thinking about weight loss and appearance. in my case, there's an element of schadenfreude at work here. i'd always been a big girl. now that i'm not so big anymore, i feel like the skinnier i get (and the more attention i get because of it), the more i can drive the demons of the old days away. within reason, of course.

4 - What's the one thing you wish guys could understand about you?
a sincere compliment, a hug and a good joke will carry you SO far with me.

5 - Tattoos. How many do you have and how many are visible when you wear your "everyday" clothes?
as of this moment, 1 - not visible with everyday clothes. soon to be two, though; my "if the saints win the super bowl" thing was a fleur-de-lis tattoo somewhere.

6 - What was the best year of your life and why?
hmm. 1998 was an amazing year for a lot of reasons (high-school graduation, starting college, a couple of good relationships). it remains to be seen if 2010 will top it, though. so far, so good. the 2009-10 academic year has probably been the best academic year of my life.

7 - Name three things you would do if you were a man for one day.
1) go to the mechanic's, just to see if there's any difference in treatment
2) attend a formal in a tux (i'm so tired of dates bitching about how uncomfortable they are, as i stand there in a dress, heels and freaking pantyhose)
3) try to get laid :)

8 - What's your alcoholic drink of choice that usually raises a few eyebrows?
no doubt, it's the monsoon. (thanks, three years of living in louisiana!) we call it "drunk in a cup." light rum, dark rum, pineapple juice, grenadine and sour mix. oh, so yummy.

writer of fictions [TRUE STORY]

[note: when i bracket "true story" in a title, you can take every word of the post to the bank. sometimes it's fun to pull the mask off, eh?]

i've been a writer since i first learned how to form words with one of those big fat little-kid pencils. i've found "stories" that i wrote on penmanship tablet paper in 1986, largely concerned with dogs and adventures. i've never been an essayist, really; my one true artistic love has been fiction. writing stories is perhaps the only place in this world where i can sort out the static in my head, look at things i will only ever imagine, and extrapolate small impulses to their logical extremes, and sometimes beyond.

therapy, i'm sure, works for a lot of people. been there, tried that, and have SO moved on. my problem with therapy is that there's no real exploration. it's a pretty reductive process: "this happened." "what did you think/feel about it?" "i felt X." "why?" ad nauseam. that is not helpful to me. i am the kind of woman who needs to vent. i am also, despite law school's best efforts to break me of this habit, a highly imagination-driven person. i need to tear things apart, look at the reality, and take that next step into the surreality.

so you hold in your virtual hands, by and large, the internet version of a lifelong process for me. these little stories, these flights of fancy, these midsummer night's dreams all have roots in my heart, my mind and my soul. but they truly live in my imagination, the most vibrant and important part of my psyche. there's a kernel of truth in everything i say. how much of that kernel makes it to the page, however, well... let's just let that be my little secret, OK?

[blush] [TRUE STORY]

well, how 'bout this; i got myself a blogging award!



thanks to 'bama on the brain for thinking of me. she really came through for me tonight; i needed a little validation. the rules of this award are simple - i have to tell you all a few things about me, then i pay it forward. done and done. in the spirit of the award, my caveat is suspended; the four things below are all 100% true, no fictional spin.

1. i feel it is every woman's duty to be at least somewhat technologically self-sufficient. it's 2010, and knowing how to run your wireless network is this generation's version of being a girl who knows a little about cars.

2. i need to feel necessary in order to be happy. i am in my element when people come to me for answers.

3. i love living in louisiana more than i let on.

4. my celebrity crushes: anthony bourdain, henry rollins, keith olbermann. opinionated men all.

now, for the pay-it-forward part. here are just a few of the blogs i think deserve some recognition:

are you there youth? it's me, nikki. hilarious perspective on the classic young-adult fiction of our generation. a must-read.

not that kind of girl. a fun, gutsy experiment: breaking out of patterns and doing things that defy your usual attitudes. how can you go wrong?

hannah, just breathe... trenchant analysis of life, all framed around a yoga practice. she always gives me something to think about.

hope y'all get a kick out of this award the same way i did!

parents: a meditation [TRUE STORY]

this is the time of night that's designed for smoking cigarettes, drinking bourbon and being alone. i am doing one of those things. (i'm more of a vodka girl myself.) it's times like this when i start thinking about my family, about my choices, and about how i got to be who i am.

i am the daughter of a music man and a tortured genius. that's probably the most succinct way to put it. my daddy (all southern-raised girls have a "daddy") is a brilliant guitarist. he was a professional musician for a very long time. but for a couple of intervening circumstances - my birth, mainly - daddy would be bad blake. basically, he curtailed that dream to be my dad. and seriously, i am my father's daughter. a lot of women worry that they're growing up to be their mothers. i am PROUD to grow more like my daddy every year. i am so, so grateful that he changed his life to raise me. despite some of my failings, he did a damn good job. i got my work ethic, my sarcasm, and my tenacity from him. all good things to possess, in my mind.

but there are two sides to every coin, two halves to every lineage. every kid has a mother. my mother was a force of nature. i get my passion, my politics and my intellect from her. this is a woman who, as a teenager, faced down the klan in rural georgia to make sure little black kids got to preschool. she was beautiful and she was BRILLIANT. but, as is so common with the gifted, she was also troubled. she had addictions. she had demons. her brain, her greatest asset, turned out to be her worst enemy, and her mental illness took her down HARD. i suffered for that, but nothing at all like how she suffered. the demons kept us apart for years. i couldn't deal with it. and, just like some kind of movie, that's the way things ended. i got a call one super bowl sunday, letting me know she was gone. it's still hard to think that. so much was left unsaid. i played "fire and rain" on repeat for days, weeks, months, trying to wrap my mind around it.

mental illness is the worst kind of illness. it's so hard to understand, so hard to watch. i occasionally wonder if that might be my mother's biggest legacy to me; i, too, swing wildly from one extreme to the other. but i keep coming back to the center. the tenacity of my daddy, tempering the passion of my mother. breathe in, breathe out, move on. one foot in front of the other. i think, in the darker moments, that my parents' twin legacies to me will be my saving grace through the insanity of my life. i had the good fortune to be born of two rather extraordinary people. i just hope i can live up to my bloodline...

there just aren't words [TRUE STORY]

so i sit in the baltimore-washington international airport, hopefully boarding a flight back to the deep south sometime in the next hour. snowmageddon was everything it was advertised to be, and a whole lot more. 25 and a half inches of snow at my dad's place. travel nightmares all over creation. two solid days snowed into my dad's (and yes, everyone survived). just insane.

but you know what? don't none of it matter, as they say back down south. this weekend's headaches, which i'm sure aren't even close to being over, are all worth it. you see, i am a dedicated, faithful and true fan of the new orleans saints. have been since i was a tiny little child. in fact, daddy likes to tell me that he caught me drawing fleur-de-lis designs all over the underside of our coffee table when i was about four or five. when he asked me why, i told him, "because i love the saints!" this goes DEEP with me.

this year, after three years of time on the waiting list, i became a saints season ticket holder. the fact that there had to be a list at all was pretty mind-boggling; i remember when you could get tickets - good ones, too - on game day just by showing up to the superdome. but after katrina, when it became clear the team was coming back, a lot of people wanted to show support for the team. hell, the saints were one of the very few sources of normality in those dark days. i could even tell that from afar, watching the destruction and chaos with a broken heart. so i signed up, and lo and behold, i got my tickets.

this season has been nothing short of magical. that's not even close to a deep enough description. the 13-0 start. the lights-out play. it had a destiny sort of feel to it, like someone else was pulling the strings. even the late-season stumbles didn't cost us the number one seed going into the playoffs. i just had this feeling that this was going to be a special year. the two playoff games in the 'dome were amazing. absolutely amazing. i laughed and cried and hugged random strangers as we won the NFC championship game. walking down poydras street that night was just the most indescribable feeling. we were going to the super bowl. us, the saints - the black-and-gold ragtag goofballs of the NFL.

that's why i was here in the snow this weekend - i wanted to share the saints super bowl with my best friends, the boys i grew up with cheering on the saints. they'd get it above everyone else. so, in spite of 25 and a half inches of snow, we had a super bowl party. we cooked gumbo and jambalaya, we drank abita beer, and we hunkered down to watch the game. there are far better recaps available in the world, so i'll spare you. just know this - when tracy porter ran that interception back for a touchdown, i knew full well that we had it. and sure enough, we did. my boys won the super bowl. it's MAGIC.

i'm still in a daze. it's unreal. what a year to have been part of this. there's just something special, to say the least, about all of this. i can't believe it happened. and i'll never forget it, as long as i live.

i am entirely too old for this. [TRUE STORY]

part of the beauty of going to law school in the deep south is that this is FOOTBALL LOVING COUNTRY. the people, they love them some football here. the men all played football as boys, and even though they grow up, they never really lose the dream of hoisting the lombardi trophy. to that end, my law school hosts a full-pad tackle football game between law students. they sell tickets, raise money, and donate it to charity, but at the end of the day, this is all about reclaiming lost glory. for one day, at least, these guys get to remember what it was like to be big-shot football stars.

and what's a football game without cheerleaders? well, in the deep south, cheerleaders are integral to the process. you need the pretty girls to preen and fuss over the boys. it's part of the glory thing. and that's where i come in. there have been cheerleaders every single year i've been in school, but this year was... different... for me. for some reason, i decided that, at twenty-eight years old, there's no time like the present to cheerlead for the first time in my LIFE. yeah, crazy. but why not? have some laughs, do something silly for a good cause, and have a fun story to tell in interviews someday.

yeah, come to find out, that's not how we roll down here. this was serious freaking business. two-hour practices, $90 uniforms, and a pre-game dance led by a member of our faculty who cheered for our big-time division I football team when she was an undergraduate. i was in WAY over my head. but with a little liquid courage, i showed up on game day to do my best.

verdict? we were OK. the crowd dug us, though most likely for how ridiculous it is for law-school women to dance around like high-school girls. i didn't fall over. success. but as i lay here on my couch 11 hours later, with muscles and joints aching, a nasty cough from jumping and yelling in the freezing cold, and a big bruise on my side from the acres on acres of spandex "shapewear" employed to squeeze my ridiculous self into a cheerleading outfit, i'm starting to wonder what the all-holy hell i was thinking. just goes to show that every silly whim has consequences, i guess.

now, if you'll excuse me, i'm going to go take some drugs, lay down, and hope i'm recovered by the time i face my classmates come monday. sigh...