Throw me somethin' Mister!

Fat Tuesday is almost here!!! My anticipation stems from having a brother who actually lives in New Orleans, which makes Mardi Gras a much more exciting holiday. To live vicariously through him while he experiences the temporary insanity that permeates the city for one of the most festive and traditional times of year is pure greatness.

Two years ago I attended the celebration in person with my childhood friend Mandy. It was the first year after Hurricane Katrina, so people say it was a toned-down version compared to prior years; however, in my mind it was still absolutely crazy and out of control. Despite the crudeness, I believe it's one of those things that everyone should attend at least once in their life - kind of like going to Vegas.

Mandy and I began the treacherous 8 hour drive to nola on a Friday afternoon. We stopped in Lafayette to hear one of my all time favorite artists - Marc Broussard - promote his Carencro CD in concert. This guy is amazing, and I would highly recommend checking him out. He's a little white guy with a huge black guy voice - VERY talented with a lot of soul. Picture #1 below is of us before the concert outside a burger shack on the side of the road called Frankie's. Thank you, Frankie, for the thumbs up.

After the concert we made our way to my bro's, who ended up being an amazing host for the weekend. Picture #2 is of us at the actual parades on St. Charles St. The 2 guys on the left are Donnie and Paul. Donnie, aka Dperdue31, is one of my most special friends from A&M who now lives in Chicago and is a doctor. Paul is his friend who I'd never met, but gave us sunscreen that day, which I very much appreciated.

The bulk of our memories consist of, "you had to be there" moments. I could elaborate and try and explain further, but they just flat out wouldn't be funny. For the record, no flashing was involved or even contemplated for that matter, and we still obtained a plethora of beads by screaming the title of this post at the top of our lungs on a non-stop repetitive basis. Alas, here's to both the holiday itself and the annual reminiscence of my own historical experience at Mardi Gras New Orleans style...

Housekeeping, you want me fluff pillow?

In high school, my friend Shel used to repeat this quote from Tommy Boy in a really high pitched voice - not just once, but multiple times on a regular basis, sometimes daily. This is the only line from the movie that I know, other than, "Brothers don't shake hands. Brothers gotta hug," simply b/c my bro and K are tight like that...

The point is, I have never had a housekeeper. Part of it is that I'm too cheap to pay for one, and the other part is that I've never lived in a place big enough that really warranted being cleaned by a 3rd party. Now that I've moved in to a house that inhabits a husband and a dog with the bulk our time being consumed by our careers, the question of whether or not to hire a maid has come to light.

Originally I was vehemently opposed to this based on part 1 and part 2 mentioned above; however, I slowly came around to the idea that having someone come once a month to do a "deep clean" wouldn't be so bad after all. I'd maintain the normal upkeep during the week, and she'd come take care of the gross stuff after it built up for 3 weeks. This was not well received by K, who has been a strong advocate for the every-2-weeks clean from the get go.

The more I thought about it the more I realized that I'm a serious cheater when it comes to cleaning. For example, I don't move the chairs around the table when I vacuum, I clean the tub itself but not the shower walls, I dust around objects versus moving them completely, etc., etc. Those that witnessed my single lifestyle while living in a one-bedroom apartment in Uptown can vouch for the fact that I have the tendency to let things get to the worst of the worst before making the effort to embark on what I usually referred to as cleaning "events." As a disclaimer, it's not the "gross, nasty, crusty" type of dirty, but the "clutter" type of dirty - as in objects strewn all over the place in piles with the exception of a small walking path connecting major rooms of the house...

Long story short, K does not endorse or tolerate cleaning "events." Introduce Gigi. She was recommended to us by some dear friends of ours, and is supposedly magical when it comes to producing sparkling countertops, polished floors, the works. She arrived tonight in her Seven jeans and silver minivan to provide an estimate on our humble abode, and I think we're going to take the plunge. Will it be worth it? I hope so!!!!

Title Explanation

Contrary to popular belief, the title of my blog - Seasons of Love - is not a reference to soft porn, as suggested by my endearing husband. I would like to point out the fine text / subtitle at the top of the page underneath the bolded header. Here you will see that I am specifically applying the meaning from the theme song of my favorite musical - Rent - to my own personal life.

It's funny that this is my favorite musical because it's about a bunch of gays and lesbians who all have AIDS. I wouldn't consider myself the most liberal person, and the overall theme of homosexuality combined with terminal illness is pretty scandalous in my mind. Really what it comes down to is that I absolutely love the music...

Most of you have probably heard Seasons of Love, only you might think the title is, "525,600 Minutes," as this is how the song begins. Given that the majority of the cast members are dying, they're hypothetically trying to determine the best way to measure their lives. They finally come up with the primary indicator of a life well lived being, of course, Seasons of Love. How true this is! To be fully known and fully loved regardless of the circumstance, and to experience God's unwavering love throughout ALL seasons is genuinely magnificent.

A final piece of advice: Don't "rent" the movie - it's cheesy, terrible, and not nearly as captivating on the big screen as it is on stage. If you're that anxious to learn more about this amazing production, download the soundtrack and you'll be golden...

Happy Birthday, Dada!

So today the President of JPMorgan Chase Dallas made a surprise visit to my cube. As she approached, I'm certain she read the E-mail I was in the middle of typing. It had only 2 words:

Hi Dada -

Can we say professional? I'm hopeful that the prior impressions of diligent, ethical team player and value-add employee which I've strived to exude over time will override this particular instance of personal business upon which she interruped today. After all - it is my duty as a daughter to wish my most excellent and amazing father a Happy Birthday every year on his big day!

My Dad is a country boy who grew up in a small town by the name of Meyersville, TX. He woodworks, gardens, loves the beach [anything having to do with the outdoors really], and has been drinking Lone Star beer since the 8th grade. He is retiring from 29 years of hard work at Halliburton in 1 week and 2 days. I can't tell you how proud it makes me to have a father who has set such an amazing example over time...

This is my most recent favorite picture of him and his bff Riggs. It's like they're talking to each other in their own language, which I swear exists b/c the 2 of them understand one another - just like 2 peas in a pod. K and Abby have the same type of ESP. Maybe one day I'll learn it too...

Happy Birthday, Dad - I love you!!!

It's Time....

After careful thought and consideration, I think it's finally time for me to start blogging. I've been typing about my life for quite some time now, only it's been via a "journal" saved as a word document on my hard drive versus multiple posts for all the world to see. Had Face Book or My Space been around during my college days, I very possibly could've become addicted; however, I feel as though having a blog at this point in my life is much lower maintenance and the preferred / ideal method of online communication...

There will be times when I'm sure I will feel pressure to be witty or sound smart [especially in comparison to my already witty and smart friends who have had blogs since blogging first began], but my hope for each post in general is that I'll be able to candidly share my thoughts, experiences, etc. with those who choose to read. I find deep fulfillment in relating to others, so perhaps somehow or some way there's a tiny chance of making an impact with my words. Only time will tell...

With that, let the blogging begin!!!