Bully Girl

weareconstance:

The Congress for the New Urbanism recently created a short-film that explores the history of Claiborne Avenue, its present condition, and re-imagines a different future for the corridor. A possible highway-to-boulevard conversion that will reconnect the Tremé/Lafitte and Tulane/Gravier neighborhoods, bring people and businesses back to the street, increase opportunities for community investment and economic development, and promote healthier living conditions. 

Produced with support from the Greater New Orleans Foundation and the Ford Foundation.

I drive through the 7th Ward to go to my friend, Anna’s house. It is one of the most blighted, crime ridden, desolate areas of the city, despite the beautiful architecture and proximity to the Quarter, Downtown and the Marigny. The Claiborne overpass physically separates the 7th ward from these vibrant neighborhoods, and I will cry tears of joy when they finally tear it down. But what’s new - I’m crying tears of joy right now at the mere thought that it could happen one day.

(via defendneworleans)

This woman makes elaborate costumes with a glue gun. I have no excuse.

Facebook Account Suspended

I just suspended my Facebook account. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for quite a while, but a single post put me over the edge and I had to do it.

It’s been building up for quite a while now. I’ve been getting email messages from distant acquaintances from Omaha and the Air Force lately. Mostly from people at SOS in Alabama, looking for a place to crash in Nola. There haven’t been too many, but nobody that I was ever friends with or want to see again. I was checking it so irregularly anyway, and I had removed all my personal information a while back.

Last night I logged on and a guy from the AF who had been a student of mine posted a picture of a lighter with a spoon over it (to indicate heroin) with the caption, “Don’t forget the vigil for Whitney tonight.” There were over a dozen replies to the effect of, “LMAO; too funny; bad but so funny!” I got so mad, but I just walked away. This morning I was thinking about it again, and I just couldn’t let it go. I replied, “I don’t find drug addiction and broken families funny at all. I’m sad so many people think it is.”

The number of supportive responses to that stupid post is what bothered me more than the post itself. I guess in the end, I wanted to get rid of all my old “friends” with whom I no longer want any contact. I don’t think I’m going to miss the connections with Facebook. I might make another account at some point, but for right now, I only need to communicate with the people I choose.

Someone please explain this for me…

I’ve recently started dating again. I’m mostly using the free online site, Plenty of Fish, but I’ll also go out with people I meet in real life. If I spend one evening online, I can end up with one or two seemingly decent people that I might want to meet (it’s about 10% of all the people with whom you have contact.) Eventually, you end up trading phone numbers and then the text messaging begins. Every guy seems to want to banter back and forth with a bagillion text messages all day long! Like I wake up, haven’t even had my coffee yet, and I get, “Good morning Maria.”  Dude, unless I’m waking up next to you - and that is way far down the line, if that ever even happens - I don’t need you to tell me, “Good morning.” Until then, knock it off - especially since I’ve never even met you!

It can get much worse after you have met the person. I’ll get texts all day long inquiring how my day is going, what I’m doing tonight, if I have plans for the weekend. But it rarely is followed with an actual concrete invitation to go out on a date. And nobody ever just asks you out. It’s more like, “So you ever hang out uptown?” Yes. But if I didn’t, I’m sure I could google map it and figure it out. Maybe it’s a weak attempt at small talk, but I’m not interested in small talk over text message. It’s exhausting. If I tell you that I’m free after 7:30 Friday night, tell me where and when and I’ll be there.

I wonder if it’s an early sign of a complete unwillingness to commit to anything at all, or if these guys are just indecisive. In any case, it’s getting on my nerves. A lot. I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep this up for very long.

My Reward (Taken with instagram) Golden Oreos & Makers Mark. I had my first day of classes today beginning at 8am and completed at 7pm, with some major breaks in between. My house in Omaha finally sold, which is a huge relief, and I don’t even care that It sold for $4000 less than what I bought it for six years ago. I am so exhausted, I just want to eat all the Oreo cookies and drink all the Bourbon.

My Reward (Taken with instagram)
Golden Oreos & Makers Mark. I had my first day of classes today beginning at 8am and completed at 7pm, with some major breaks in between. My house in Omaha finally sold, which is a huge relief, and I don’t even care that It sold for $4000 less than what I bought it for six years ago. I am so exhausted, I just want to eat all the Oreo cookies and drink all the Bourbon.

DEFEND NEW ORLEANS: New Orleans Fruit Tree Project spreads the wealth

I love this story for so many reasons. First, the do-goodness makes me feel good. Second, it gives me hope that the key lime tree I planted last fall will one day provide me with enough limes to make lots and lots of pies. Finally, it reinforces the sheer joy I get from eating the most delicious oranges bought at the local grocery store and grown just down the road in Belle Chase.

I never really ate fruit before because I didn’t think it was worth the effort to cut and peel and whatnot. And I was too disappointed too many times with dried-out oranges and tasteless everything (and this was the produce from Whole Foods!). But just the other day I easily consumed a pound of strawberries - they were on sale, locally grown, and so incredibly delicious. I’ve even been eating bananas - and I thought I hated bananas. The fruit down here is so worth the effort.

defendneworleans:

From a massive grapefruit tree from English Turn, volunteers for the New Orleans Fruit Tree Project picked 500 pounds of fruit without even getting on a ladder. All of it went to charity. The concept is simple, founder Megan Nuismer said. “You need a truck and some ladders,” she said,…

(Source: nola.com)

I am having one of those mornings - no, one of those weekends - where I am deliriously happy to be living in New Orleans. First off, it’s the 197th anniversary of the Battle of New Orleans which WWOZ is intent on celebrating to the hilt. Right now they are playing old country and blue grass and I’ve already heard three different versions of “The Battle of New Orleans.” One version was a fiddle version of “The 8th of January” which was written at the time of the battle and brought back to Arkansas where the composer settled. It not only survived, but flourished so that we have versions and derivations that are still played today. The most popular of these is the Johnny Horton version recorded in 1959 (posted above); I grew up hearing this song, but never understood the significance.

It’s also the start of the Mardi Gras, or Carnival season. WWOZ played Mardi Gras music all day Friday, people were in the grocery store buying King Cakes, and others were celebrating Joan of Arc’s 600th Birthday with a parade through the French Quarter. I had king cake on Friday (from Rouses, which was not very good - I won’t buy one from there again - and didn’t even have the baby baked in the cake because it’s a choking hazard!) and another on Saturday morning (form Dorignac’s which was delicious - with the baby was baked into the cake).

It’s this intensity of shared culture and history that makes me love this city so much. People want to come down for Mardi Gras to drink themselves stupid and see women flash their boobies, but that is the most insignificant part of the holiday. The depth of the shared consciousness in this city is so incredibly complex and mesmerizing. When I lived here ten years ago, someone said to me that New Orleans was a dying city. She was someone who had lived here her whole life, and I believed her. She meant economically, of course, but even if it was economically nose diving it’s culture was still alive. I’ve never met a city more alive, more in love with life, more determined to celebrate everything, all the time.

Kiki is on medication and feeling better, but we won’t know any details until our Cardiologist appointment in Baton Rouge on Thursday. But right now, she’s lying int he sun on the back deck, being a happy, lazy puppy dog. Every so often I can hear a horn blowing from a ship on the Mississippi, and I feel more at home than I have in a very, very long time. I really feel at peace here.

Happy Anniversary - Battle of New Orleans!

We got some really bad news today. Kiki’s been coughing and has had really shallow breath for a couple weeks. Last night she was tossing and turning & neither one of us got very much sleep. So I took her to the vet this morning, and she got an x-ray. It turns out that she has a heart condition. Her heart is 60% larger than it should be, and is pressing on her lungs, making it difficult for her to breathe. The vet put her on medication and a special diet (soft food, which she loved), and I have to take her to LSU in Baton Rouge to see a cardiologist and find out how bad her condition actually is. I asked how long she might have left - the vet said maybe a year. I had hoped for at least another five. She’s only eight years old. I’ve been crying all afternoon, and I’m going to allow myself the rest of the day to be seriously upset to the point of paralysis. Then we’re just going to take advantage of what time we have left together. She’s my best friend in the whole world.

We got some really bad news today. Kiki’s been coughing and has had really shallow breath for a couple weeks. Last night she was tossing and turning & neither one of us got very much sleep. So I took her to the vet this morning, and she got an x-ray.

It turns out that she has a heart condition. Her heart is 60% larger than it should be, and is pressing on her lungs, making it difficult for her to breathe. The vet put her on medication and a special diet (soft food, which she loved), and I have to take her to LSU in Baton Rouge to see a cardiologist and find out how bad her condition actually is.

I asked how long she might have left - the vet said maybe a year. I had hoped for at least another five. She’s only eight years old. I’ve been crying all afternoon, and I’m going to allow myself the rest of the day to be seriously upset to the point of paralysis. Then we’re just going to take advantage of what time we have left together. She’s my best friend in the whole world.

I was going to go into a big explanation of where my interest in this comes from, but it was waaaay to negative. For those of you who know me, you’ll get it.  I dated & lived with someone for two years who joined TFA in New Orleans; the second year of that relationship was particularly miserable. Suffice to say that I didn’t realize how bitter I still was after all these years. rtnt: The Problem With Teach For America In an incisive critique, Andrew Hartman, writing for Jacobin Magazine, explains the shortcomings of a program that has become a sought after stepping stone for recent college grads: The need to incentivize the teaching profession is the most popular argument against teacher’s unions, since unions supposedly protect bad teachers. But, in a predictable paradox, by attaching their incentives agenda to standardized testing, the reform movement has induced cheating on a never-before-seen scale, proving the maxim known as Campbell’s Law: “The more any quantitative social indicator is used for social decision-making, the more subject it will be to corruption pressures and the more apt it will be to distort and corrupt the social processes it is intended to monitor.” In sum, the TFA insurgency’s singular success has been to empower those best at gaming the system. In contrast to such “success,” the TFA insurgency has failed to dent educational inequality. This comes as no surprise to anyone with the faintest grasp of the tight correlation between economic and educational inequality: TFA does nothing to address the former while spinning its wheels on the latter.  Read the full article here.

I was going to go into a big explanation of where my interest in this comes from, but it was waaaay to negative. For those of you who know me, you’ll get it.  I dated & lived with someone for two years who joined TFA in New Orleans; the second year of that relationship was particularly miserable.

Suffice to say that I didn’t realize how bitter I still was after all these years.

rtnt:

The Problem With Teach For America

In an incisive critique, Andrew Hartman, writing for Jacobin Magazine, explains the shortcomings of a program that has become a sought after stepping stone for recent college grads:

The need to incentivize the teaching profession is the most popular argument against teacher’s unions, since unions supposedly protect bad teachers. But, in a predictable paradox, by attaching their incentives agenda to standardized testing, the reform movement has induced cheating on a never-before-seen scale, proving the maxim known as Campbell’s Law: “The more any quantitative social indicator is used for social decision-making, the more subject it will be to corruption pressures and the more apt it will be to distort and corrupt the social processes it is intended to monitor.” In sum, the TFA insurgency’s singular success has been to empower those best at gaming the system.

In contrast to such “success,” the TFA insurgency has failed to dent educational inequality. This comes as no surprise to anyone with the faintest grasp of the tight correlation between economic and educational inequality: TFA does nothing to address the former while spinning its wheels on the latter. 

Read the full article here.

Major haul at the consignment shop today. This skirt might be my favorite; it has beadwork and sequins worked into the embroidered design. I have no idea where I’m going to wear it yet, but right now I don’t ever want to take it off. I also found a leopard print D&G skirt, a tank with hand beaded neck/collar (it looks like a piece of jewelry) and another black top. Everything they carry is designer and in amazing condition, and everything I bought was ON SALE!! Plus I had a COUPON! I can’t wait to go back next month.

Major haul at the consignment shop today. This skirt might be my favorite; it has beadwork and sequins worked into the embroidered design. I have no idea where I’m going to wear it yet, but right now I don’t ever want to take it off.

I also found a leopard print D&G skirt, a tank with hand beaded neck/collar (it looks like a piece of jewelry) and another black top.

Everything they carry is designer and in amazing condition, and everything I bought was ON SALE!! Plus I had a COUPON! I can’t wait to go back next month.

The New Normal is So Beautiful

I’ve been sick with a head cold for a little over a week. It started with a late night of drinking (in my own living room, with friends) on Wednesday night. I managed to function while very hung over on Thursday, and made it through the weekend with a copious amount of tissues. But Tuesday it just got to me. I was volunteering with Habitat for Humanity, working outside on a foundation. It was cloudy and cold, and after lunch, a light rain started. I was miserable, so I went home and went to bed. And I slept – all afternoon Tuesday and almost all day Wednesday.

It was Wednesday afternoon, after being in the house, resting, and doing not much of anything at all, except thinking, when doubts started to creep into my head. I thought about my house in Omaha, sitting empty with a for sale sign on the front lawn, while I pay $1300 in mortgage every month. I thought about the $5200 it’s going to cost me to take classes at the University of New Orleans because I’m not considered a Louisiana resident yet (that happens a year after you’ve lived here). I thought about what it means to have no income. Was it worth it? Had I stayed in Omaha, I would still have a garage to park my car, a two-story house with lots of windows, tons of closet space, a full basement and attic, and my fake Christmas tree, which is still sitting in the basement…and my old friends. I wouldn’t have to pay out-of-state fees to take classes at UN Omaha, and I would not be making mortgage payments on top of rent.

It was scary, because this was the first time that I had really thought about the enormity of my move. When I started seeing my therapist, back in Omaha about three months before the move, we talked about this being the biggest transition of my life. Even going into the military – into a certain and specific career path, all planned out for you – wasn’t as big a transition as this would be. I had to understand that there would be a “new normal,” and it wouldn’t always be easy. I knew this, but I didn’t feel it. Last Wednesday I felt it for the first time. Oh the doubts running through my head! I was so scared.

That evening I took Kiki out for a walk around the bayou. And you know, I felt that it really and truly is worth it. We saw Miss Bossy and her mallard friends, pelicans, egrets, and the bayou was beautiful. Later that night, I went to a concert – piano, cello, violin trio playing Mendelsohn – at Dixon Hall on Tulane University’s campus. The manager at WWNO gave me the tickets for free. It was one of those evenings when I found myself brought to tears by all the beauty in the world. I’ve spent this weekend in the same vein, crying from laughing so hard, and from the wonder at the beauty of it all.

I know that not every day can be full of transcendent and magical moments, and that the ugly realities of life will get in the way of all this beauty. But I have to believe that I can see past the daily monotony, because the beauty never goes away – it’s always here – I just have to slow down and open my eyes. And I cannot put a price on that.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

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I just heard this on All Things Considered. It’s Lynn Neary interviewing a mall Santa; they discuss Santas’ strategies for curbing children’s expectations for Christmas gifts. The economy is so bad right now, and so many people have so little, but hearing young children interpret this reality is so heart-wrenching. It made me cry real hard.