Serrabee's worst investments

Off the top of my head, and in no special order, they were:

• Car/home/medical insurance. The thousands I've spent would have been better spent at the casinos, and I can't even play a decent game of roulette. It's like some weird superstition: I actually believe that as soon as I drop or reduce my insurance coverage, something bad will happen. Not so if I just buy cheaper coverage, somehow.
• My tickets to the Beale St. Music Fest this year. Three of us thought it would be fun to hang out down there all weekend, no matter how crappy the bands were. Not that I'm saying Bryan Adams was crappy; we're apparently too old to get our @sses down there for all 3 days unless there's a great performance expected. Won't be making that mistake again.
• The new windshield I had replaced just weeks before I crashed my car, doing 75+ down I-55, back in the day before my car insurance was quite so high. I think I still have some of the glass in my body from that wreck.
• The Journey boxed set. I've listened to it on one liberating road trip, during which I sang my heart out. I don't think I've had it in the cd player since. And it didn't even come in a real box.
• Copious amounts of clothing I wore once & discovered it didn't fit/made me look like a box/gaped at the buttons (you know where) or just had to buy for that black-tie event. Anyone need a black cocktail dress, size 4, 6, or 8---only worn once? I've got a dozen or so I'm sure I'll never wear again.

Sister's got a brand new bag

Some of you know of my penchant for volunteering. I've never thought that makes me better than the madding crowd, except as far as it could improve me as a person. I was raised to believe in giving to charity, and that money is sometimes less valuable than time. I've volunteered at a slew of places:

1. the Library---my 1st volunteer job. I spent 10 hours a week at the library in high school when I realized colleges would look at crap like that on my application. I suppose I just could have lied & they'd never have checked up on it, but I kind of liked shelving books. (This may be why people still think I look like a librarian when I wear my glasses.)

2. Dismas House---a halfway house where some college girlfriends & I would cook once a week, until one of the residents absconded with the cookware we'd been using. That was depressing as hell.

3. The Crisis Center---a volunteer-staffed, local, 24-hour hotline for people in dire straights. I'm just not sure that the people calling were the ones who really needed or wanted help, or if they were happy to be crazy. I hated working overnights, especially when I didn't know my partner for the shift.

4. Various one-time events for charity---races, registration tables, holiday fundraisers, you name it. No bachelorette auctions or 3-legged races, please.

5. Dress for Success---a great concept: helping women get clothes & skills for interviewing. In my current company, we have new hires come in to work in the medical field and if they're not in scrubs, they don't seem to know how to dress themselves. "Businesss casual" isn't as self-explanitory as I always thought it was.

6. House of Mews---more fun bleaching cat bowls and litter pans than I'd ever thought to have in a morning. It's very hard to get on their schedule, so if you want to go, you'll probably have to go to Tom's Town instead.

7. Mpact Memphis---the best way to mingle with people outside your homogeneous group who are still like-minded in many ways. I used to be really involved with them, for several years, but a while ago it changed. It wasn't people looking to explore the city & make it better; it was people all out for themselves. Like Paul said:

I don't know... it's nothing against the group, nothing at all. But I just stood there among all the "young professionals, 21-40" in their plaid button-down shirts and their neatly-pressed khakis and their nice shoes doing their "networking," and quite honestly, I was bored. "Young professionals" can be so stuffy when they get together in a group. They usually wear "business casual" attire to events like these. Some wear suits. Because I have the personality to pull it off, I can get away with jeans. But it bothered me that I put on long pants of any fashion on when it was 100 outside, in an attempt to fit in and impress people that I really didn't care about impressing.

He's right; it got very uppity. I dunno, maybe it's better now than it was. I went to an event they had last month, and it was great---a great speaker (Ekandayo of Hatiloo), good subject (black rep theatre), wonderful concept (we watched 10 mins. of rehearsal). Plus I got to see several of the folks from back in the day & had an interesting conversation about Memphis race relations with a transplant from Brooklyn.

Now I have a new volunteering gig with my swing dance group. They are letting me help out as I learn the ropes of a few of the more basic dances from the 20's, 30's and 40's. It's a steep learning curve, as I never had any dancing lessons in my childhood, and know little to nothing about partner dancing. I will persevere: In fact, I'm going to my first bootcamp this afternoon, one dealing with swing moves & alternative music (that is, non-traditional, non-swing stuff).

Cotton, paper, or china?

I missed my own anniversary.

A couple of them, acutally. I started blogging two years ago this month. Six years ago this month I quit smoking. And I missed it---didn't give myself a card, or the traditional gifts, or anything. Fortunately, however, I'm not holding it against myself---I understand how busy I've been lately, and don't take it as a personal slight.

I'm thinking of going on a blogging diet. What exactly to I mean by that? Good question. I want to stick to Tony Pierce's How to Blog guidelines as much as I can:

1. write every day.

2. if you think youre a good writer, write twice a day.

3. dont be afraid to do anything. infact if youre afraid of something, do it. then do it again. and again.

4. cuss like a sailor.

5. dont tell your mom, your work, your friends, the people you want to date, or the people you want to work for about your blog. if they find out and you'd rather they didnt read it, ask them nicely to grant you your privacy.

6. have comments. dont be upset if no one writes in your comments for a long time. eventually they'll write in there. if people start acting mean in your comments, ask them to stop, they probably will.

7. have an email address clearly displayed on your blog. sometimes people want to tell you that you rock in private.

8. dont worry very much about the design of your blog. image is a fakeout.

9. use Blogger. it's easy, it's free; and because they are owned by Google, your blog will get spidered better, you will show up in more search results, and more people will end up at your blog. besides, all the other blogging software & alternatives pretty much suck.

10. use spellcheck unless youre completely totally keeping it real. but even then you might want to use it if you think you wrote something really good.

11. say exactly what you want to say no matter what it looks like on the screen. then say something else. then keep going. and when youre done, re-read it, and edit it and hit publish and forget about it.

12. link like crazy. link anyone who links you, link your favorites, link your friends. dont be a prude. linking is what seperates bloggers from apes. and especially link if you're trying to prove a point and someone else said it first. it lends credibility even if youre full of shit.

13. if you havent written about sex, religion, and politics in a week youre probably playing it too safe, which means you probably fucked up on #5, in which case start a second blog and keep your big mouth shut about it this time.

14. remember: nobody cares which N*Sync member you are, what State you are, which Party of Five kid you are, or which Weezer song you are. the second you put one of those things on your blog you need to delete your blog and try out for the marching band. similarilly, nobody gives a shit what the weather is like in your town, nobody wants you to change their cursor into a butterfly, nobody wants to vote on whether your blog is hot or not, and nobody gives a rat ass what song youre listening to. write something Real for you, about you, every day.

15. dont be afraid if you think something has been said before. it has. and better. big whoop. say it anyway using your own words as honestly as you can. just let it out.

... blah blah blah...

18. before you hit Save as Draft or Publish Post, select all and copy your masterpiece. you are using a computer and the internet, shit can happen. no need to lose a good post.

19. push the envelope in what youre writing about and how youre saying it. be more and more honest. get to the root of things. start at the root of things and get deeper. dig. think out loud. keep typing. keep going. eventually you'll find a little treasure chest. every time you blog this can happen if you let it.

20. change your style. mimic people. write beautiful lies. dream in public. kiss and tell. finger and tell. cry scream fight sing fuck and dont be afraid to be funny. the easiest thing to do is whine when you write. dont be lazy. audblog at least once a week.

21. write open letters. make lists. call people out on their bullshit. lead by example. invent and reinvent yourself. start by writing about what happened to you today. for example today i told a hot girl how wonderfully hot she is.

2. when in doubt review something. theres not enough reviews on blogs. review a movie you just saw, a tv show, a cd, a kiss you just got, a restaurant, a hike you just took, anything.

23. constantly write about the town that you live in.

24. out yourself. tell your secrets. you can always delete them later.

25. dont use your real name. dont write about your work unless you dont care about getting fired.

26. dont be afraid to come across as an asswipe. own your asswipeness.

27. nobody likes poems. dont put your poems on your blog. not even if theyre incredible. especially if theyre incredible. odds are theyre not incredible. bad poems are funny sometimes though, so fine, put your dumb poems on there. whatever.

28. tell us about your friends.

29. dont apologize about not blogging. nobody cares. just start blogging again.

30. read tons of blogs and leave nice comments.

I'm sure everyone's read these, but it's like your favorite book: every time you go back & re-read it, you get something new out of it---or at least have a renewed appreciation for it. I want to try to adhere as closely to these tenets of blogging as closely as I can. Obviously I'm already screwed on #5, and therefore #28, so maybe I should go to #13 and start it all over again. How long would it take people to figure out I'm me, if I were to do that? Y'all know I'd talk about Memphis, and the same places I hang out, and with the lovely Memphis blog opml feed. Maybe I'm doing it now & that's why my posting here has been so light. You will just never know.

Links: My first post to Rock'n'roll Minor Planets. Meets none of the above guidelines, except perhaps #s 5-9.

Just so ya know: I'm no better than I should be

I'm no better than I should be. Tonight I skipped my 1st dance lesson. I went to the opening of Rhodes' new theater and they ran out of wine---something went haywire with their rsvp count and they had twice as many people as expected, and it was many old peoples. And you know how they like their wine, so of course the white wine was gone by the time I showed up (after 7pm, post-disco-naptime).

Anyway, this was all to explain that I missed dancing because of a single (really strong) vodka tonic. I did see the Pesky Fly for a sec but only as long as it takes a fly to light & take off again. Then I heard a lot of gossip & found out that some of the theatre dorks from back in the day still hang out at the P&H on Thursday nights. If you are interested, perhaps I'll see you there next week after Drinking Liberally (I'm determined to make it sometime this month!).

It takes a lot to blog, it takes a train to cry

Apologies to Robert Zimmerman, but I have had that running thru my head all day. I keep having strange dreams at night---or really in the morning, in the hours before I wake---that seem to signify nothing. This morning I was on some tour bus with a bunch of elderly people. Nothing happened, just conversation. Perhaps I'm getting old and my dreams are telling me so.

I've acutally never had a recurring dream in my life, at least that I can remember. I dated a guy who had one dream where he was running from something, he never knew what, but it was always the same. Just running---and he'd wake up all sweaty, heart pounding. He thought that was about getting older & not having achieved everything he wanted. He wanted to be mayor, or king, or something important. But most of my dreams consist of me doing mundane tasks and feeling very busy, then waking up exhaused, with the feeling I had nothing to show for all my efforts. I suppose effort still takes energy, even if you are just carrying it out in your head, right? You're still thinking, planning, worrying away in your head.

Maybe tonight I will dream about something and do it in my sleep. That would be a good use of my time.

Theoretically, Labor Day is the end of the summer---your last chance to wear white shoes, go swimming, or cook out. As anyone who has lived in the South will tell you, this has never really been the case. I remember when I flew to England for 2 weeks in Sept. years ago, and disembarked wearing dark pants, a button down, and a jacket. I removed the jacket but still just about sweltered to death waiting on my friends to pick me up outside. (Of course I had to wait outside, as I still smoked in those days.)

But this year is different from any in my adult memory. (I've been living in Memphis most of my adult life, and high school is so long ago as to be a little hazy.) This past week has been fallish, pleasant and seasonable. I've even walked to lunch a couple of days and we sat outside most of the evening yesterday. The traditional Labor Day cookout in Memphis is hotter than anything we see for Memorial Day, but I am loving the temperate weather this weekend. Thanks, Mother Nature---I know you get blamed for a lot, like hurricanes, tornadoes, storms, and mudslides, so I wanted to express my appreciation for a change. Hope you are all having a happy holiday weekend, too.

technorati tag: Labor Day

I finally watched Mrs Henderson Presents last night, incidentally, and it was a sweet movie. I always watch films based on historical events with an unwillingness to completely suspend my disbelief. Either make it up or do it according to fact, I always think. But I like films about non-traditional women, and I love the fact that there are still some fun roles for women past middle age. I get really tired of just seeing 20-year-old starlets (a la LiLo and the Olsens). Not that there's anything wrong with them; it's just that enough is enough already!

There's been a lot of talk about Katrina: 1 Year After on the airwaves lately, and I'm never one to miss a good bandwagon, as many of you know. But it all seems so overwhelming that all I can do is be sad about it. I was a big proponent of the Love It & Leave It tactic, because I just didn't (and still don't) see how NOLA can ever be a viable city. There's not been industry there since the oil companies hightailed it for Texas decades ago; and no, I don't count tourism as a viable industry. It provides below-living-wage jobs and gives people help working permanent life issues like addiction (e.g. alcohol, drug & gambling). It just can't work long-term. Anyway, now I am not all passionate about what they need to do---I am just sad for all those people whose lives were screwed because no one ever took the trouble to fix the levee system or slow growth there. I am also sad that I think a lot of those hurricane refugees have made it up to Memphis, where they still have no opportunity for helping themselves climb out of the dung heap their lives have become. Now they are jumping up our crime rate, since people without jobs would almost all rather risk getting caught robbing someone than the certainty of starvation.

Now I'm depressing myself. I keep having all these great ideas for blogs while I'm showering, and many of you know how that works: By the time you get yourself dry, your ideas have dried up as well. I think it's partly a function of having too much crap swimming around in my brains. I tend to forget things when I'm this busy, unless I write them down. Let me just say how much I love the Google calendar here. I haven't missed an event for anything other than sheer exhaustion since I started keeping it a few months ago. Now that I think about it, maybe my new calendar addiction is the reason I'm so tired; when I was missing stuff, I got more rest.

Speaking of events, I gotta go buy my cousin a birthday present to bring to his party tomorrow. That is, besides our granny---while it's a nice gesture, I want to do something more lasting to mark the passing of his 30th birthday. Any ideas?

Incredulity

I can't believe it's going to be September before the end of this week.

I can't believe I just brought home a bottle of champagne from my boyfriend's wedding this past weekend. Anyone want to toast to singlehood?

I also can't believe that my boss asked me to make her a mix cd. That seems really supernatural. Is she going to want to go see the She Wants Revenge/I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness show with me next week? [I am so going, who cares if I'm 31 and I have to work the next day?]

What a world, what a life, I'm in love

Today is another one of my sickeningly happy days. Please bear with me while I overdose on contentment.

I went to dinner at Meditrina last night, opened in May by an incestuous combo of Midtown restaurant owners, along with chef Demitri Phillips from Tsunami. Food was good, not inexpensive but not overpriced, and had a nice Greek wine with my lamb meatballs and swordfish (no, I didn't eat 2 entrees; they have 'small plates' available as well, though I still didn't finish it all---a salad & small plate might be a good option if you're going). It was lovely, but the thing that stays with me is the sweetest little white cotton dress I saw in the window of Raiding the Closet across Union. Of course they were closed at 7:30 on a Sat. night, but I plan to go back after work Mon. to try it on. If it's not outrageously priced & looks as cute on me as on the mannequin, I might get to wear it a couple of times before summer ends. So that is my new love---I thought about that dress halfway through dinner.

Things like that make me wonder if I'm obsessive-compulsive. I went to my first Red Hot Lindy Hop dance at the Gallery Ballroom Fri. night, and woke up thinking about how wonderful it was. I'm now obsessed with swing music, dancing, movies, whatever. Obsessed, I tell you. I may have an addictive personality. Either that, or it's the endorphines. At any rate, the RHLH group is teaching a swing workout on Tues. & Thurs. at InBalance on Cooper starting in Sept., which I plan to attend as often as I can (but not 2x a week).

Enough about me for the moment. I've gotta motor if I'm gonna make it to the pedicure party.

The Anti-Party Story Blog Post

This is a story about my own personal bloody, lawn-mowing, exhausting week in the center of Memphis, with a jaunt or two outside Midtown. It contains no mention of parties, having fun, or live music whatsover (as per the new rules). See how exciting my life is when I'm not partying all the time? Let's see how many people actually make it to the end of this post---leave a comment if you do so I can tally it up.

Somehow I managed to bloody myself up not once, or twice, but (count 'em!) 3 times in the past few days, in small but painful ways. I broke a vase, which I immediately cut myself on as I was picking up shards of glass (go figure). Then I cut my foot, or more probably weged a sliver of glass into my foot, as I managed to not actually pick up all the glass after all that trouble. (I had to wear flip-flops to work, and almost left them on for my 1st meeting with the VP.) Was 2 injuries enough for me in 1 week? Apparently not, as I cut my thumb on some strange tool in my Swiss Army kit, leading to the realization that the digit I can least do without for a day is the thumb of my right hand. But I'm getting ahead of myself chronologically:

Sunday was brunch day, and as I was hoping would eventually happen, someone else actually hosted (hostessed?) this time, freeing me up to, um, not spend all day Saturday cleaning my house. Which is a good thing, because I didn't make it home until 4:30 Sat. AM after Michele's birthday party. But I digress; y'all don't want to hear about debauchery et cetera... oh, yeah, so we had a brunch discussion about Hurricane Katrina: 1 year later, whose fault is it? Or more specifically: Who cares whose fault it is that nothing's getting done? Let's stop assigning blame and assign responsibilities for fixing New Orleans! Somehow it also worked into my friend's new church's sermon on the inscription on Ghandi's tomb.

Monday was lawn-mowing day, and thankfully I hadn't sliced my thumb open with the oh-so-sharp SwissCard by then. Unfortunately, I'd neglected my lawn so long that it took every last ounce of strength to throw myself into the shower after only mowing the back yard. Sorry, neighbors! I'm sure I'm about to get a citation from the city or something. I'll just tell them my bermuda has to go to seed or I'll counter-sue when I have to re-sod my lawn after it dies. I wonder if that's why my grass goes brown every Sept.? Anyway, no heat stroke and no dead animal carcasses unearthed, so it was a good mowing experience.

Tuesday was chore day, so I checked out a new venue for dance lessons (InBalance Fitness, who are now having $5-a-visit classes---very cool, and very much needed, though the schedule looks light). Then I made a quick trip to Ike's, bought some retro personal care products, and walked the best dog in the world. Had just enough time to make it to the lovely Lamplighter for 2 cold beers before tucking myself into bed around 10:30. Bad news of the day? I ate the leftover Milk Duds from the movie trip Sunday. Moral of the Story: Don't go to the Lamp on an empty stomach!

Wednesday, today, Hump Day: Good day at work, made lunch plans with an old professor, had a very productive meeting (in which I was asked to sit in on a meeting, outside my dept., to discuss a new position, so that I may write that job description---good sign of job insurance), and then went to my (no more than) weekly workout. After all that I still had time for a shower and a trip to Costco to purchase $80 in supplies for a spa party I agreed to co-host this weekend. Remind me never, ever to say yes that quickly again---to anything!

Little Miss Sunshine

It's always strange for me to go to the movies with no idea what's playing. Usually it's either a matter of a much-anticipated indie/foreign film opening, or a friend who drags me to a movie that I don't end up enjoying all that much. (There area always exceptions, however, like X-Men and DWP, respectively.) Although it wasn't quite what I expected (and in retrospect I'm not sure what I expected), I thoroughly enjoyed the Sundance-winning film. Not really a film that makes you think too much or anything, which is fine for summer, I s'pose. But I love dark comedies, Toni Collette, and movies about misfit kids (like Welcome to the Dollhouse, But I'm a Cheerleader, and Ma Vie en Rose, off the top of my noggin) so there was very little not to like about this little flick. Still, I have to wonder if this is the best movie of the summer, or if I've just lost all desire to go see American-made films anymore. I'm still considering Scoop, though Woody Allen has let me down lately. (Okay, so that last one's 10 years old; it still lives fresh in my memory.) At least Studio on the Square didn't stink like it did last time I was there. Icky. It's like theatres have a shorter life span than shopping malls even do.

In other news, I'm contemplating a new hairstyle, so if anyone has seen any fabulous new 'dos that aren't totally ridiculous to maintain, help me out with some photos, won'tcha?

technorati tag: Little Miss Sunshine

PA 6-5000

So lately I have picked up a new hobby, or at least, I'm trying to. A friend of mine has been telling me forever how much fun swing dancing is, and I've always loved the music of that time. Plus, as I've already said, I wish our generation had some cool dances of our own.

I have many helpful hints for you 1st-time swing dancers out there, that is, if any of you have considered taking it up but never had the gumption (not sure of the root word there; is gumption a gerund?). Here’s a short list, based solely on my personal experience at 3(count ‘em!) lessons:

1. Clothing: Wear slick-soled, non-marking shoes and make sure your clothing is breatheable. Everyone should wear something with sleeves, since ladies put their hand on the guy's shoulder & don’t want to touch sweaty skin---and the lead’s arm sort of goes under the lady's armpit, especially if you’re short like me. So no tank tops for anyone, please!
2. Men, who must lead, this sucks for you. It’s way harder and you have to pay a lot of attention to the women (which may be new for you) to make sure we’re getting the right signals (which is also probably foreign to you) and know where you want us to go next.
3. Frame: This is your stance for dancing, the position you put your body in---basically back & arms, including hands and elbows. If your partner is a foot taller or shorter, please accommodate her/him. And if you keep your hands in the right place, everything else is that much easier.
4. Guys, this is a great place to meet women: not one but 3 men were partner-less, but all of them got to dance with every woman on the room, since we rotated constantly. Use your head & you may take home a few numbers!
5. Women, I'd say it's a great place to meet hot men, but I'd be lying. It is a great place to meet guys you would ordinarily write off as not strikingly handsome (if you're like me) or probably socially inept. It's cool that you can meet guys & not instantly begin assessing dating potential. I like that I look at someone & think, "I want to dance with him; he looks like a good lead," instead of, "I want to dance with him; he looks hot."
6. Be prepared to fvck up a lot and laugh about it. Everyone. No one likes a stuck-up dancer.
7. That having been said, have confidence. If you act like you know, you look like you do. That makes you much easier to lead or follow.

(I've been attending Red Hot Lindy Hop's weekly dance lessons, but there are more groups in this town doing the same, in case their times don't work for you.) Even if you aren't a great dancer---and believe me, I'm not---it still a lot of fun. It's much easier than wind-surfing, at any rate. And everyone needs a hobby, or a change of pace every now and again, or you get stale as old saltines.

technorati tag: swing dancing

Somehow

I was trying to fix an error and messed things up (quelle surprise!) Somehow I have managed to delete this post, so the comment is just hanging in the ether, while the post is back in its rightful spot [here]. Sorry, kiddo.

Smells Like Teen Spirit

Since I am such a great follower, I'm following The Other Rock Grrrl and give you the pleasure of my list of things I want to do before I am dead or otherwise incapacitated. Gee, lucky you, huh?

1. Learn to golf
2. Keep chickens
3. See San Fran & tour Napa
4. Teach yoga classes
5. Learn to meditate
6. Karaoke alone
7. Tailgate at a UT game
8. Throw the opening pitch at a baseball game
9. Go to Europe again (at least once, hopefully more)
10. Learn to dance: at least ballroom, belly, and lindy hop
11. Be the family Thanksgiving headquarters
12. Learn to sight read sheet music
13. Play the clarinet (again)
14. Ride a bike (again)
15. Drive a convertible
16. Go snow skiing
17. Take a cooking course
18. Re-cover my dining room chairs
19. Go into business for myself
20. Be an extra in a film
21. Volunteer (again, preferably tutoring/mentoring)
22. Take my nieces on vacation
23. Learn html & java
24. Move elsewhere
25. Sew
26. Pierce something
27. Road trip out West
28. Spend a weekend at a spa
29. Move into a retirement village
30. Pour a drink on someone . . . in no special order.

Blogger Bash Wrap-up

As promised, I have the attendees from last night's bash. Sorry I didn't do it last night, but it wasn't exactly early when I finally made it back from the Deli. Again, roughly in order of when people showed up:

• Rick
• John Harvey
• mL
• Rock Girl [all the way from KnoxVegas]
• Philip
• Brandon (aka i-Devo) [on lunch break]
• Thaddeus Matthews
• Benny
• Lindsey
• Kat

Thanks again to everyone who attended, and to the Young Ave. Deli for hosting us. I know there were many complaints about their refusal to split the tab, but it worked out in the end [Philip, I owe you $5---we were a little over after paying last night].

Conspicuously absent were Dwayne, David, and a slew of political bloggers (which was probably my fault; oh, well). At some points the convo turned to politics, at others to less high-falutin' topics, which were actually more personally relevant. I was feeling a bit scrappy rather than introspective, but I quite enjoyed the chatting at the north end of the table. Too much gun talk on the south side.

I was so happy to finally meet everyone, especially Lindsey, after a long time of enjoying her musings and seeing her depart & return to the... well, you-know-what-osphere. I was impressed that several people apparently enjoyed the first one so much that they came back for second helpings.

Quote of the night: "I'm down with communicable diseases." ---Lindsey

technorati tag: blogger bash

I'm not Dead Yet

Whew.

What a week/month/whatever. All I've been saying to myself is: I'll sleep when I'm dead. If anyone is concerned, I made it to work by 6:30 in spite of the night out, and gave my first presentation to around 80 people [applause]. I actually did sleep last night, in bed with Harry Potter by 9:30. My Favorite Dave called & sang a few lines from Rock'n'Roll Lifestyle to my voicemail, which was ironic in light of the fact that I was asleep by 10:30 on a Friday night (and Harlan was even playing!).

**Before I tell you about all the other goings-on, let me begin by [belatedly] sharing the roster from Thurs. night's blogger bash at the Young Avenue Deli, in order of arrival (or whenever I got around to talking to them):

Roy

Justin

Paul

Philip

Rachel

Eric

Kat

Brandon

Rick & Pam

Jon

Rachel

Derek

Phil

If I fogot you, it's not that I forgot you personally, but that you didn't get on our secretary's list. I was glad to meet everyone I didn't know & see everyone I did, and sorry not to talk to several of you more. Hope if you didn't make it to the first of them, your second chance is Sunday night---I'm hoping some of you who were eating cake at dish will show up tomorrow. Next time I advise coming early to get some discussion in before the beer starts flowing.

Personally, besides being pleased to meet everyone, I was very impressed with the turnout. Apparently Justin has an optimal feed of local blogs that has over 100. Sheesh! Of course not all of them are regular, and some may even be effectively defunct, or de-funked up anyway... but it's still impressive. Personally I only know less than half of them. I suppose that is just one of the many things which makes me an unsophisticated blogger, but I never claimed to be anything else. Perhaps we can think of this as the Unsophisticated Bloggers' Welcome Party. I had a great time talking to the more sophisticated ones, but I'm sure several of them thought I was silly (I am). Discussion ranged from typographical errors to Hooters vs. strip joints; from ironic mullets to lite politics; and of course blogging was the touchstone for the night's conversation.

Thanks also to the Deli for hosting us, although I thought it was bad form of the owner (manager?) not to warn me they wouldn't split checks for parties over 6. At least I could have warned people to bring cash. If you owe me, and you know who you are if you do, I'll be back at the same place on Sunday for Blogger Bash: Rise Above v6.2.

UPDATE: **I've just found out from an official source that "party stories are over" so I guess you won't be hearing about my night out downtown tonight!

technorati tag: blogger bash

Don't Forget!

Block Party Pooper

Okay, I'm officially not the person who over-plans and regulates everyone else's fun times. The new Queen of Mean is my obnoxious neighbor, who'd undoubtedly give Paul's Most Annoying Woman on the Planet a migrane... .

You know those people who manage to ruin everything they touch for everyone else? Well, she's one. I've been fighting her every attempt to sabatoge a simple neighborhood cookout for weeks now. First it was calling me every 5 seconds (HER: Well, so & so can't come, so should we change the date? But then this other couple might be out of town... and if we have it on a weekend, these people will be at their farm. ME: Yeah, well someone's not going to make it whenever we have it, lady.)---next it was over-thinking every detail (HER: We have to change the party invite to say it ends at 8:30 instead of 9:00, because someone said they'd leave when it started getting dark!! ME: No, dumb@ss, because anyone who wants to leave is free to do so.)---then it was not calling me when she said she would (Drama in her online life, andI am beginning to get that she doesn't have a real one, and why!). Now she's calling me to tell me what someone (who got her phone number from me, as I'm sure he told her) is bringing. Guess what? A bananna pudding. Like I give a flying fvck what anyone is bringing at this late hour. I've told her 20 times what I'm bringing, and it's not another bananna pudding. She just has to have someone to talk to, and I'm beginning to understand why---her husband just can't listen anymore. Poor guy. He is a runner-up for World's Biggest Eunuch.

This woman went from taking over my cookout (excuse me, I must have stolen her idea: as soon as I mentioned doing a block-long party, she said she'd been planning to do the same thing for some time [not that anything had stopped her] and of course, no one has ever thought of such an idea before, right?) to micro-managing what should have been a simple concept: We bring the soda & bbq grills, you bring the meat of your choice. Everyone has fun, meets people they see every day, builds a sense of community, end of story. I am totally dreading it. I really just wanted to meet my neighbors, not be driven to kill them.

It's 2 R's, one B, 2 E's, y'all

If real life weren't getting in my way, I'd have a lot to tell you about everything that's been going on. Lately my calendar has started to look like a doily or something, with little holes all around it letting in the light. I like to be busy, but I have to have time to stop & think, as well. About what? you ask---life, the universe, and everything else, I guess. What to put on my schedule next, maybe, or who I need to fish out of my address book. I have always been That Person: the one who keeps up with everyone when no one else does. I have never been regular about it, or very good at it; it's just that my friends are worse at it, for the most part. But if there's someone in the crowd that you haven't talked to in 3 years, chances are I have (it might have been 18 months ago, though). I hate to let go of people I've known forever. It's worse than giving anything else up. Ironically, however, I hold a grudge worse than anyone I know. Go figure.

So, this week for me is yet another crazy one. I have plans for Mon. (dinner w/family)---Tues. (cookout; more on that later)---Weds. (a new dance lesson; we'll see how that goes)---and Thurs., of course, is the 1st of 2 Memphis Blogger Bashes. Maybe people will start to spell my name right afterward. I'm the blog nazi, after all, and I insist on proper grammar, capitalization, and punctuation (or else [what, I'm not sure]).

sticed out

If there were a word describing the feeling of exhaustion that comes over you when you're not so much tired already as dreading how tired you're going to be soon---that would be the title of this post. I am too tired to look it up, so there just may be the perfect word somewhere.

Growing up, we had an unadbridged copy of Webster's open at all times in our house. Don't know what a word means? Look it up. Can't remember how to spell something? Go look it up. That's what I love about the internet---I mean, aside from the pajama-blogging and email replacing a constantly ringing phone---alla that stuff is there if you just want to look for it. It's like being at the largest store in the world where a lot of stuff just happens to be free once you've paid to get into the door.

* * * * * * * *

I am dreading cleaning up for my visitors this weekend. Not dreading the visits, of course, because I love having company and the people coming are all great guests whom I've known forever. I went to vote after work tonight with all the other poor bastards in my district who couldn't make up our minds in time for early voting. I had planned to go over lunch but ran over something which ended up puncturing both tires on one side, just outside the pluggable area, of course. Luckily, I work close by a service station, so that wasn't a problem. (The $250 bill for 2 new tires was. My car has to have special tires; who knew?) So I am running late and what do I do? Yes, sit down in front of this large store we call the internetz and look up things like toe reduction surgery and exploding maple trees. Maybe I'll keep the lights low while people are here, so they can't see all the dust & dog hair that always manages to form itself into little tiny tumbleweeds.

UPDATE: Think I found the word.

Rise Above It All

Okay, y'all, it's finally time.

Mark your calendars, set your alarms, do whatever you have to do to make it to a blogger bash (or both!) next week.

We're meeting at the Young Avenue Deli around 7pm next Thurs., then again that Sun. as an added convenience. Those of you who wish & can make it happen are encouraged to attend both events.

The idea here, of course, is to make connections with as many of your fellow bloggers as possible---so in that spirit, please spread the word to others not in my blogroll or livejournalers you may know, etc. I'd love to see a full house this time, and we'd all love to meet you!

Remember, we can rise above our differences, spreading peace, love, & happiness around the city. Or at least drink a beer together (and yes, Lindsay, they do have liquor).

Muchos gracias to Mike Hollihan of Half-Bakered for the graphic, encouragement, and beneficience! Also to Mr Roboto for his words of advice.

technorati tag: blogger bash