Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Cotton Dresses & Big Hair.

Our trip to the Big Easy is approaching in a few weeks. I'm getting prepared by looking up plenty of New Orleans websites and unearthing my billowiest dresses. The word is that it's going to be HOT. That said, I'm also getting psyched to wear my hair in all its dangerously puffy glory.

It all started when my pal Joy (who grew up in NOLA) told me a few weeks ago at the Greek Festival that naturally curly hair just can't lie down and behave in the sticky Louisiana summers. She told me that I'll need to bring extra-strength hair products, but I assured her I won't need them. I plan to take full advantage of the heat and sport the 'fro of my most rebellious dreams! Bumble & Bumble be damned!!

 http://srewotsjarak.blogspot.com/

Ohhh yeah. 




Thursday, May 19, 2011

Literary Constipation

Sometimes, we lovers of words can get a tad...backed up.

Y'all know what I mean. We voraciously borrow library materials, buy novels, surf the blogosphere, visit book sales, attend poetry readings...and end up with a stack of stuff that we're dying to read.



But we can't read it all. There's absolutely no way. Even if I quit all my jobs and spent every day reading, there's no way I could get through the mountains of great literature that I crave.

Stefan and I lament this fact constantly. Last fall, when we got back from the "Giant Book Sale" at the library, we each had a fresh stack of classics.

"Look at this AMAZING early edition of Jane Eyre!" I crowed.

He nodded enthusiastically. We spent the afternoon examining my tiny bookshelf, taking out the stuff I didn't need anymore and replacing them with the day's finds. They're all there now, and I admire them and flip through them when I'm able to.

But before you start thinking I'm just some high-brow snot, I must tell you that I even get backed up with fashion magazines. Right now I'm squelching the urge to buy the new Marie Claire, for example, because I haven't gotten through Vogue yet.

But what I've come to realize is, writers and readers just wanna be surrounded by words at all times. Even if they can't always be read.

Monday, May 9, 2011

My Own Six Feet Under Episode.

Did any of you watch Six Feet Under when it was on HBO several years ago? It's one of my favorite shows ever. For those who didn't, it was about a family who owned, and lived in, a funeral home. Morbid, right? While the show had a tendency to be dark, I learned today that funeral homes can actually be an...amusing experience.

It all started when I made the expedition to Summerville this afternoon for a new part time job I just took, gathering business listings for a community news website. Armed with my list of businesses that I've been assigned, I tackled a street in the downtown area, hoping the experience wouldn't be as tough and awkward as I feared. I was supposed to take pictures and get general information.

My first business to visit was the funeral home. Can it get more strange? I mean, I knew we had to get all the businesses in town--not just the glamorous boutiques and chic restaurants--but a funeral home makes for a pretty odd introduction to any gig.

I got out of my car, pulled out my camera, and started snapping pictures of the business exterior. I shot the sign, the front of the building...and ran out of ideas. I was supposed to get five photos.

Hmm...should I photograph that hearse? That seems...grim, I thought to myself.



As I stood there mulling it over, suddenly the front door opened and a tall, African-American gentleman with a furrowed brow approached me. "Can I help you?" he asked. I must've looked awfully crazy, snapping pictures of a funeral home like the freaking paparazzi.

I gingerly explained to him who I was, (what if he told me to get the heck out, and that I was disturbing the peacefulness of the recent deceased?!) and to my relief, he invited me in.

"I'm supposed to get pictures of the inside too..." I began helplessly.

With that, he whisked open the door of the home's chapel, and told me I could photograph it. I gotta admit it was weird, taking commercial photos of such a solemn place. But as my visit progressed, the man got much friendlier. He told me all about the funeral home's history, the original owners, and all sorts of things. It was actually interesting!

"Do you like cake? If I had known you were coming, I would have baked a cake for you!" he suddenly declared.

I was amazed.

"I love cake!" I replied. "I'll actually be back in Summerville on Wednesday to get more listings! I'd be happy to stop by for a slice of cake!!" We laughed heartily.

So, overall it was a great visit. And while I probably won't actually return for cake (although I'm tempted) it's cool to know that I won this skeptic over with my charm and enthusiasm.

Here's hoping the rest of the job goes just as well!

Friday, May 6, 2011

The Job I Need Needs ME!

Friends, today is an important day. The book that I've been co-writing for Andy Thomas Productions is ALMOST DONE! I'm so pumped! It's the first time my name (and picture and bio) have been anywhere near any kind of book!

It's called The Job I Need, Needs Me and it's a blueprint for finding a career you love. I think it's the cat's pajamas, but I'm a little biased. This is just the proof, so we have a few changes to make, but soon the real deal will be for sale on Amazon.com and wherever books are sold. I'll keep y'all posted in case you want one! :)


Tuesday, May 3, 2011

29 Cosmetics.

This morning I was delighted to receive a package from FedEx. I had forgotten that the company 29 Cosmetics was sending me samples after I wrote about them in a local magazine. Check out their website and facebook--pretty luxury stuff. Wow, am I a happy camper this morning!

I can't wait to try out the Highlighting Cream Blusher, the Grape Seed Age Protecting Lip Therapy, and the fancy Eye Emulsion. I'll keep y'all posted on how my skin looks.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Fortune Cookie Message.

I amused myself this afternoon by looking through one of my old journals from 1999--back when i still kept a daily diary. In it, I had taped an unusually relevant message from a fortune cookie. I even labeled it as such. It still applies, even now that I'm no longer that naive, 19-year-old college student.

Rest in Peace, Bin Laden.*

*If the title of this blog offends you, you may not want to read it. Just sayin'.


Thus far, I've not talked much about about politics or religion on this blog. I've kept it all fairly light-hearted, the way I like it.

But last night, the United States received the surprising news that Osama Bin Laden, the leader of the group Al Queda, is dead. Our country has been on the prowl for this individual since September 11th, 2001--ten years ago. I remember exactly where I was the morning we were attacked --getting out of bed for a college class, listening to my early-bird roommate fill me in on what had happened.

Now, a decade later, the man who supposedly devised our attack is finally dead. And my Facebook news feed is literally CLOGGED with the overjoyed crowing of my fellow Americans.

"Praise God!" they write. "Osama Bin Laden is dead! Justice is ours!"

It strikes me as a bit weird. I'm not saying I wanted this guy to go on terrorizing the lives of others, but the bloodthirsty remarks that I'm hearing via social media are a bit much. Do we REALLY think God had anything to do with this? Do we really think God would cheer us on, whisper in our ears that, yes, we ought to kill off another life? Hardly.

No matter what religious ideology we hold to be true, as Americans we pride ourselves on being more evolved than certain other countries in this world. Doesn't this heightened sense of ration include the knowledge that killing someone is always wrong? Sure, I might feel differently if I had a loved one who died in New York that morning. But should we always go on our emotions? I thought the idea of justice in the United States is built on reason, not emotion.

And let's say you're a Christian. Does that make any of this right? Love mankind no matter what--isn't that what Jesus said?

As my mama used to tell me, "Two wrongs don't make a right."