Labour of Love

And now I have that awesome UB-40 album in my head. That's right, I said album, remember those?

Anyhoo the reason for my post. My labor of love has been my book. The book that I write every now and then when I get such an amazing idea that I cannot rest until it has been typed for perpetuity. The other day though, I figured out the ending.

I could have cried y'all. I love it. I just love it.

So I started with the skeleton, now have lean muscle affixed, and am now ready to add the fat, the sexy curves if you will. My excellent boss is on a well-deserved vacation for two weeks, and, since my desk is unnaturally clear of clutter, I decided, with blessings of course, to take a "staycation." Tomorrow I shall go to the Nashville Room at the main branch of the Nashville Public Library, and get lost in the downtown Nashville of 1901. I want to see pictures of old buildings, of merry people looking taciturn because they are waiting for the camera plate to be properly exposed. I want to get enough stuff to fill my brain and my book with imagery of a bygone time. Tomorrow morning I shall be a library nerd, and I cannot wait. This is the fun part - time for the sexy curves.

Sneakers on Power Lines

The last stretch of my drive home is the best. When I turn on to Trousdale Road from Harding Road, my view goes from commercial to residential in as much time as it took to read this. Crieve Hall is an older community in Nashville, filled with ranch houses on large parcels of land. Big old trees (the best kind) form a shady canopy over the road, and the road curves and dips just enough to make it reminiscent of a kid's roller coaster.

Driving at 35 mph gives me a chance to survey my peaceful surroundings. Dogs merrily running with their humans, cats lounging in pockets of sun on driveways, gardens bursting with produce are seen whichever way I turn my head.

But yesterday I saw something I usually ignore. I saw a pair of sneakers dangling from a power line. I thought to myself what is up with this? I have seen this phenomena in many places, but never pondered it long enough to wonder why people would do such a thing. It just seems such a Little Rascals sort of thing to do.

Aren't they just the cutest little things?

So I thought that today I would google the subject to find out what the deal was, and there is a wealth of urban legendry on this topic. According to about.com, a popular belief is that sneakers dangling from utility wires designates "gang territory." Y'all I just don't see that happening in my neighborhood. Granted, we have crime, but most of the residents in my area are either the elderly, or young families. I have never seen kids sporting gang colors on their way to Crieve Hall Elementary School.

Another urban myth associated with this is that teenage boys who have just um "scored" for the first time will chuck their converse over a power line in celebration. Meh I dunno about this. Firstly, do you know how expensive sneakers are these days? And also, wouldn't stupid boys that want to display their stupidity by texting on their phones or posting something tacky on facebook? Again, this sort of activity seems so low-tech - not something our technologically advanced youth would do.

So I guess the sneakers on the wire in my hood will remain a mystery. If these fools have sneakers to spare, they should donate them to charity or something.

I just want a cool band-aid

Ya know, as most girls think, I like to think of myself as low maintenance. I don't need many material or physical things to make me happy. The following things are a sampling of things that make me happy.

1. A dog riding in a car with his head out the window.
2. Cool, fresh sheets on the bed.
3. A perfectly ripe and beautiful tomato.
4. Funny or colorful band-aids.

The last one is extremely important y'all. I get my blood drawn every time I go to the doctor (nothing scary - it's just to check my thyroid). My doctor loves tests, and because of his love of tests they take a bunch of blood. Hey, I like information, and if they've already stuck me they can take all the blood they need, leaving me with the blood I need thankyouverymuch.

The phlebotomist that usually sticks me is pretty awesome, but at the end of the transaction I feel very much cheated. She quickly put a cotton ball on the wound, and affixed it with horrible surgical tape....the tape that rips off a layer of skin.

I would dig a Hello Kitty band-aid, or perhaps some rad graphic or zebra stripes, anything is better than the cheapo cotton and tape route.

So yeah....that's really all I have to say.

Much Love for the Cowboy Caviar

Oh hi hello. You have probably visited my blog in search of Cowboy Caviar. Welcome. I am happy you are here, and hope you find the recipe as delicious as I do. I get lots of hits daily from folks just like you that googled "Cowboy Caviar," so I thought I would create a post in honor of people that dig the sort of food that I do.

If you prepare the recipe, and enjoy it, please oh please let me know by leaving a comment. It would be fun, and ever so much appreciated.

If you also like funny writing, there are two extremely true posts I am rather proud of.

Serve and Protect

and

No autographs please

Anyhoo, thanks for stopping by!

Zumba!

Oh hi hello neglected blog. In earlier posts I have documented my attempts at exercise, and to be blunt, they we epic fails.

Until now.

Because of this program I am in, I have been given a 6 month membership to Metro Parks & Recreation Facilities. When I received it, I knew this was a great opportunity, and I was not going to let it go to waste. Nosireeeebub not me.

Y'all I was never athletic. In high school I was not in any sport, other than the required gym classes. In college I took yoga. It could be safely said that I am a left-handed person in a right handed world, and boy do I have the bruises to prove it.

My name is Tina, and I am a klutz. Where are the understanding nods and hugs of encouragement?

The machines and nautilus equipment were easy enough to understand, and now I am comfortable with them. For cool up and down, I walked the elevated track surrounding the open gym, but I was still not using the opportunity I had to its fullest, and I knew it.

The exercise class.

I got a schedule and some of the offerings looked like torture to me. Body Ball Class? Uh I have enough issues with balance without having to teeter on a sphere. Crunch Craze? I think not. It sounds like my abs would hate me so bad.

But Zumba sounded like fun. So I googled it and lo and behold there were plenty of youtube entries. It looked like fun too! It didn't look like torture! It is aerobics and dance elements, all to latin or hip hop music. I just wondered if I would display some tragic white-woman boogie moves a la Elaine from Seinfeld.

Tonight I go to my third class, and I can hardly wait. I rumba, samba, and shake my bootie just like the others in my class, and I don't give a damn if I look like a fool. It is just that much fun.

Inspiration

I have been selfish with myself for a spell. That's one of the reasons (excuses) for not writing here. I don't know that selfish is the best word. I'm not really a selfish person, more like selfless to a fault, so that self care feels selfish.

I have been selfcare with myself for a spell. That's better, if you will excuse my grammar.

Today I went to the main branch of the Nashville Public Library (for serious when am I not there) to hear Ann Patchett read a short story.

Y'all she was lovely, inside and out. I loved hearing her brain on her own written page being spoken in her voice. There was laughter in the conference room, I saw people with their heads cocked like cute dogs, looking thoughfully as she spoke.

At the end, she said she was told by a professor to write about what you know. And that "what you know" could come from anywhere. She said she was a student of silence, of staring, of observing.

Hey....I'm good at that!

So I am back to my book, you know, the book that I keep damn talking about. It is to tight. The story is too wrapped in itself. I knew for a long time that I needed to loosen it up so that it could breathe. The story needs air, and I think I have figured out how to breathe life into its nostrils.

I am so glad that I went, and am thankful for the inspiration.

Blog hate

Turns out that I am the kind of blogger I hate. You know...you visit the site every now and then, because you connected in some way with the blogger. Time after time you are visited by the same stale, old post, because the blogger hasn't posted in forever. And then you are pissed. Dammit you want to be entertained. Post someting already!

Oh hi hello me.

You've seen the apologies before. I shan't bore you with one. It would be lame, and it sounds so lame in my head that I cannot force my fingers to type the necessary characters. My fingers may be developing a separate consciousness. Scary.

So I shall bring you up to date on my... well myself. I haven't been excercising, because exercising sucks and I am having a difficult time squeezing it into my schedule. I'm hopeful that will change, but I am also hopeful that I will win the powerball. So there's that.

Last week I had a "Staycation." I took a week off from work and stayed home. I think it was the very best vacation I ever had. I organized stuff, I didn't wake up to an alarm clock, I had lunch with my husband, and did lots of other stuff you just can't find the time to do when you work for da man.

But the very best thing I did was that I finally donated 10" of hair to Locks of Love. My hair was absolutely driving me nuts, so it was time. I now have a kicky short do. I will post a picture when I have one that is cute enough. There is one problem though. I seem to be suffering from something that I call "Phantom Ponytail Syndrome." 99% of the time my hair was kept in a ponytail so that it did not annoy me. I was used to brushing it out of the way whenever it was where it shouldn't have been....too used to it. I keep reaching towards the back of my neck, and there is no hair. It is so weird...as if I have lost an appendage.

So that is really all I can think of. I know ... rather boring. I seem to be in creative flux right now. I'm not really doing anything, but I think I will shortly continue working on my book, since ideas are again popping in my head.

Don't hate me. I'm really a very nice person that is rather lame at times.