Thursday, March 6, 2014
1. I really never left the 80s. I wear Vans and Converse. Swatches. And how can we forget the music and tv shows? Man, if I could take modern technology with me, I'd so be back in the 80s right now.
2. I prefer button fly jeans.
3. I sometimes wonder if I am weird when I don't really like a book about which everyone else raved. I have never been the "trendy" sort, but really....do I have to be such a square peg in a round hole? Speaking of "Square Pegs," see #1.
Pardon the interruption, but...GO DEACS! Sorry, had to give the love to my adopted (former) hometown.
4. I am a very neat person but I have never quite figured out the value in making my bed. I rarely do it.
5. My first word was "apple."
6. I usually get up between 5 and 6 am. Even on my day off. I was THRILLED when I could drive so that I wouldn't be stuck at sleepovers.
7. I AM NOT A HUGGER. Don't get me wrong, I can cuddle and be intimate. I just have no desire to hug random people I barely know. Yes, I want a nametag that indicates that so I don't have to deal with unwanted affection.
8. For as long as I can remember, I have been against the drug war. I haven't a clue why people are against marijuana, especially. Homosexuality, either, but that's a whole other can of worms. I have worked closely with PFLAG, NORML and SSDP. I am known as a "straight ally" in the LGBT community. But what the heck do you call someone who is pro-pot but has never so much as inhaled nicotine (unless you can't second hand since I was in utero)? Things that make you go hmmmmm......
I am stopping here. Why? Because I am a dancer and think of things in 8 counts. Wanna know more? Stay tuned...
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
This past year has not been kind to me. Really, the last few years have been not so stellar. It wasn't even that I was terribly sad. Or moody. Or miserable. I was just emotionless. The joy had pretty much been sucked out of me.
Well, this year I pledge for it to be different. I am not going to let anyone or anything steal my joy. I am in charge of my emotions and, although I can't control the circumstances, I can choose my reactions to them. So, for Lent this year I am going to return to writing. I have been stifled for far too long. Words, for a long time, were my refuge. My way to communicate. My weapon. I need to write. Maybe they will be read. Maybe not. But, here goes. Forty days of blogging. Of baring my soul. Of becoming me again.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Been quite a while since I posted. Lots going on personally, which will make their way here soon. I have had a lot on my mind recently and, for whatever reason, have not felt compelled to post here. That is odd in itself as I tend to express myself better through writing. Maybe it will come with time.
I feel like I have been in a state of melencholy for the last four years. I had a strange sort of inspiration today viewing works by Andrew Wyeth. If you know me at all you know that I have a reluctancy to trust my own views about art. I had quite an experience, though, viewing Greenville's Andrew Wyeth collection today.
When I was in middle school I had an art teacher that everyone thought was weird. I, of course, adored her. She introduced me to Andrew Wyeth and I was hooked. When I went to work at an art museum some 20 years later, I immediately was drawn to Wyeth. Now I always find myself intrigued by his work. I've attended several talks now, even those my the illusrious Victoria "Vic" Wyeth, and still feel so drawn to his work. I can't put my finger on why. Maybe it will reveal itself in the next step of my life story?
Saturday, October 8, 2011
I have been exploring thrift stores and the plethora of chain, as well as local stores here. Very cool. I also really like a certain small town here where you can get houses (no lie!) at a third of the price as what we saw in MD. Crazy. I was pretty much sold on moving there until we discovered another place. It's what realtors often call a "transitional neighborhood." My mom would call it the slums. Let's split the difference and call it "the arts district." We have to think of safety, schools, etc. but, of course, that is now where L wants to live. It is really cool. I explored the art hop last night and it was very lively. I was out of sorts a little not working or knowing the artists personally, but it was kind of nice to be out and about. I think I'm gonna like it here :-)
So, even though I've got very little down time, I am really feeling the need to be in this space more. Let's see if I can stick to it.
PS: If you don't read Garden and Gun, you should.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
A lot is going on here in these parts, so it may be a while before I'm back in this space. After moving to Maryland for what I thought was a good opportunity, let's just say it turned out not to be so great. The good news is that I found a great job in Greenville, SC, which has recently been featured on NPR and (more importantly...at least in our house) in Garden and Gun magazine. I think it's a good compromise -- close to W-S, Charleston, Asheville, Charlotte and Atlanta. Oh, and an airport with Southwest service. Not a bad deal. Best thing is that the people I work with/for seem to be great. And the museum is new and growing. I am excited to say I have already run into several people I knew growing up, which is nice.
I promise to be back soon. Until then, carry on....
Sunday, September 11, 2011
I think everyone's memories have begun with how beautiful that day was. I remember getting dressed, wearing black sandals (I'm a southerner and would never do white!) and watching the Today show. I may be imagining it, but I'm fairly sure Katie and/or Matt made a reference about the exceptional weather and the camera panning to the towers. I had interviewed for a job I hoped I would get, as I had just finished my MA and was grateful my supervisors had allowed me to continue my internship in the interim. My job was at the Watergate which, for those of you who aren't familiar with DC, is within viewing distance of the Pentagon and relatively near several government buildings. I was excited about the prospects of working and living in a fun city as a young, hip professional.
I was listening to Elliot in the Morning, a radio show made up of some potty-mouthed jokesters, as I began my daily tasks. My mom, ever the worrier, had called to warn me to get out of the city. After that first plane hit, she suspected terrorists. I assured her it was a prop plane...and an accident. The second plane hit. The mood on the radio turned somber. I was scared. Then the plane hit the Pentagon -- which I could see from the roof of my building -- then another went down in PA. Where was the next one? What should I do? Where should I go? A dear co-worker thankfully walked me all the way to the zoo metro stop, which is at least three miles. I reluctantly got on a train there and then walked the few blocks to my house in Bethesda. My feet were blistered from my sandals, but I didn't realize it until much later. My roommate greeted me at the door with a terrified look on her face, although she was happy I was home. Our dear friend and world traveler had a flight that morning, but Lauren couldn't remember where. With all the phones out, we couldn't get in touch with her. Luckily, Natalie had an early flight and was already on the ground in Chicago.
That day seemed incredibly long. I remember checking on family (my dad was traveling) and friends, even learning that a good friend's husband was safe but his office was gone. Another friend who, thankfully, is not the most punctual was running late that day and didn't make it to towers before they fell. Hard to believe they had nothing to go back to the next day. At least they were safe! I will never foreget the next few days and weeks after the event. We watched as the Pentagon continued to smolder. I always thought about the people who were on 395 as the plane that hit the building must have flown directly overhead. It was surreal to see tanks on the streets of DC. I felt like I was in a movie or a foreign country where martial law is the norm. Totally bizarre.
I didn't get that job. In the next few months, almost all the jobs for which I had applied would go unfilled. Busses could not go into the city and tourism was down. I don't think a lot of people realize how museums and attractions even now continue to be affected by that awful tragedy. I would soon lose several relatives and find myself crying on the train and walk home. I wanted to be anywhere but in the city. I went to NYC a few months later and was amazed by how everyone had joined together and the city was bouncing back. But I didn't want to be in that city, either.
I moved back "home" and have never looked back. I never realized until today, ten years later, how profoundly that one event affected me. I complain all the time how it affected my job prospects and I am still trying to find my footing in this field. But only now am I beginning to see how it changed me. How I remember caring not about buildings or jobs on that day, but wanting to know everyone was safe. I am grateful that all of my friends and family were safe on that day and that my memories were of people coming together, of loved ones watching the news and crying together. I will never forget seeing devastation firsthand or the fear of everyone rushing out of the city on that day. But I will carry with me most my friend walking with me, my roommate hugging me as I walked in the door, chatting with neighbors as we stocked up on provisions, and the feeling of unity in a usually divided city.
In some ways it feels like it was just yesterday. In others, it feels like it was a lifetime ago. While I mourn the lives lost on that day, I also celebrate the spirit of America. What's really sad is that so much of that spirit has disappeared in the last few years. What will it take to get the feelings of love and unity back?
Friday, August 19, 2011
So, the kids in my home town went back to school this week. I enjoyed seeing all the photos on facebook and reading all the blogs. Seeing kids growing up is really bittersweet. On the other hand....free time for mom! It was especially cute to see photos of little Amelia, as her dad was in my kindergarten class. How time flies....
It seems like just yesterday I was picking a new outfuit and eating french toast on my first day of school. Oh wait...I went to school until I was 28. That wasn't so long ago -- haha.
On Sunday night, I also got another crack at a tradition my big brother started when I was little. For those of you not in the know, my siblings are 9, 10, and 12 years older. Being the oldest, my brother thought it was funny to come in the night before the first day and sing "turn out the lights....the party's over now" to us. He continued to do this as he went to college, then as we all went through college and grad school. So, of course, I now do it for my young nieces and nephews. It's always really fun to hear their groans and/or excitement. This year, they are starting in grades 3, 7, 8, and 10. It won't be long before Sully goes to big "tool" and I will laugh, cry or a little of both.
Good luck on a great year to all the kids, moms, and teachers out there!