How to "B"

So, I feel like a total slacker.

Almost two weeks have gone by since my last Blog post, and the last one, I have to admit, I 'phoned it in', as my husband would say, which basically means I took the easy way out. Everyone has to do that sometimes, because life is really just too busy to keep up with everything...yes, even without kids.

And I have a lot to say about Thanksgiving. I may get to that this week, but something else has been on my mind the past few days, even before the news that Leslie Nielsen died. A coincidence, I watched the movie Airplane this weekend, which we had on VHS growing up, and I always loved.

What was amazing to me was the Elaine character, which was hilarious and so trusting in her male counterparts, and I found myself wondering this weekend, if women still can exist with what I think is a 'librarian', almost pushover type personality (though honestly, the older I get, the cooler I think it would be to work as a librarian). Most of my girlfriends are very strong women, and I'm not sure today's society would allow women to play the role of giving up complete control of a 'life and death situation' to a man simply because he 'is' without hesitation and without question.

And I saw something on TV last night that talked about the role that women play, and what's really hard is finding a balance between being someone who is too tough, and someone that is too soft, and who could be mistaken as a doormat. For better or worse, I'm somewhere in between (I think). I used to be a lot tougher, but I don't want to be too tough, because no one ever wants to be seen as a B. Being a 'mean woman' is really the worst thing you could possibly be...especially in the South.

What do you think? How is it best to 'be' a woman now, while being strong in yourself and in your home and workplace, and still remain 'soft'? And on that note, time to watch the Victoria's Secret fashion show (and a little Ani video below).

8tracks Playlists to Get You Through the Week

To get myself (and anyone reading this Blog) through the rest of the week as we head towards Thanksgiving and a bunch of food, friends, and awesome times, I have been listening to 8tracks.com, which is a way to share your own playlists online. And, it totally rocks, and I thank my lovely friend Darcy for telling me about it. You can choose the genre of music you would like to listen to, and you don't have to deal with commercials to listen to cool, free music (sorry Pandora, you know I love you, but those are annoying and you know I am poor).

So, my friends, here are some of my favorite playlists, for your listening pleasure:





(Yes, I created the next two - but they ROCK :)





Now to count down the days until Thanksgiving...

Fouche: A Jewel of Charleston

"Who Dares Nothing...Need Hope for Nothing"

This was written on a pen I received from an older, African American lady I met last week while attending a Historic Charleston Preservation Society Meeting.

My husband invited me to go since we are both really interested in the history of the city, and my dream is to be invited to a big Charleston holiday 'to do' where I can get dressed up and pretend that I 'fit in' with that lifestyle...and we can eat lots of finger sandwiches, and drink lots of wine and talk about what an 'eyesore those gigantic cruise ships really are' off of historic Charleston's harbor (which I totally agree with). One can dream, right?

What I expected of the evening was something that was mildly entertaining, and most likely followed up with dinner and drinks downtown (my fav). So why not. What I experienced was quite different. The slide show history and narrative about the city was fascinating. All of the buildings that no longer exist, the buildings that 'could have been' but thankfully Charleston nixed because they would have been simply hideous...I mean, a building like the Atlantis Resort looks great in the Bahamas...but wouldn't fit in at all in Charleston. No use turning a beautiful city into a freak show. And thankfully, someone had the foresight and the will to say 'no' to that big monster, and yes to the restoration of the buildings that hold the history and hearts of many very passionate people.



Following the slide show, wine, passed hors d'oeuvres, and beautiful mini-cupcakes were unearthed for the 'well preserved' society members in attendance. And I don't say 'well preserved' because these people were older (though most were). Those were actually the stickers that were handed out, which absolutely made sense but may have been somewhat offensive to the attendees. It was pointed out to me that I didn't look 'well preserved'...I just looked 'WELL'.

As I tried my best not to look like a wall flower while double fisting glasses of white wine, I decided it would be best for my husband and I to split up to mingle. I've never been very good at mingling with strangers whilst being judged. So off I went toward the cupcakes when I saw a very happy looking woman in her 60's wearing what I would call a gray tuxedo dress. And I use the term tuxedo loosely since what she was really wearing was a fitted gray chenille turtleneck dress (something similar to what my mother may have worn in the 80's), a matching gray hat, and beautiful silver beaded jewelry similar to the imported jewelry from Africa my mom used to sell at craft fairs (no this isn't a promo for my mom - I just really could see my mom in this outfit). This woman's shining aura overtook the room, and I wasn't the only person waiting to talk to her.

And so I sat down next to this woman that proceeded to tell me first that her dress was in fact from 1980, and 'boy was it still looking good!'

'Don't call it a comeback!', I said. I would seriously wear the dress she had on, if I had it in my size.

She replied that she was thankful for spanx, because apparently they don't sell girdles anymore. They allowed her to 'look THAT GOOD in that dress'. I admit, she looked really nice.

Really, I'm not sure the last time I've met someone who was so comfortable in their own skin that the first thing they would say to a stranger would be about spanx and not just say 'what great weather we are having today'. It was truly inspiring and made me think about how much I need to loosen up.

This woman, Fouche, told me she was here to market herself, and proceeded to hand me a pen (with this Blog's opening phrase on it and her contact information, and the text FOUCHE * "A Charleston Charm", Poems, Stories, PowerSpeeches).

Every pen has a different saying on it, she said. And to market herself, she accidently 'drops' her pens on airplanes and in public areas. And people Google her, and call her. It works. This woman is a marketing genius.

Fouche knows everything about Charleston. Many generations of her family have lived in downtown Charleston, and she's an actress and a Docent, retelling Charleston's history at different events to the tourists that come through town. And she spoke a poem in a by-gone African language, and then said it again in English, and it was captivating. And I thought to myself, 'who wouldn't' be calling this woman to hear her stories at schools, local events, and churches. But this economy has left many very talented people hitting the streets for jobs. What amazed me the most was the unwavering smile on her face throughout our conversation, and the clear faith she had that her situation was temporary, because I struggle with simply having faith on a daily basis...I know we all do.

My hope is that this jewel of Charleston will get discovered, so everyone can see her shine. And when I start a conversation off about spanx, it's either time to get worried, or to breathe a sigh of relief.

It's a Doggie Dog World: Week 3 of Being Positive

Anyone who watches the hilarious show Modern Family knows it's a 'Doggie Dog World'...you know, a wonderful world where 'cuuuute lit-tle puppies run around all the time!!'

And my world is just that, with my dog Marley, or should I say the many other names we call him which are...

Schmarles (his sophisticated side)



Batly (need I say more?)



Sergeant Lickley (reporting for doody!)



Schmarlington (yes, that's a chair on the couch. Marley wasn't the 'only' thing scared of the steam cleaner)



Buttertop Loaf (honey wheat?)



Honey Bunches of Oats (he has amazing patience with my work)



Boots



And, simply 'the dude' (because he is just...plain...cool)



Many years before the famous 'Marley and Me' book came out, my corgi-mix Marley, his crate, and a small package of baby carrots were the first things to arrive in my loft apartment in Centreville, Virginia, on a hot summer day in June 2000. (to this day he still LOVES baby carrots)

Marley was picked up from a shelter in Maryland by a rescue called Lucky Ones, which, at the time, went around to shelters in the DC area and would rescue dogs they thought they could find homes for through their organization. Marley was a very lucky one, because his story consisted of a 10 year old boy that was writing a school paper on the Lucky Ones organization for his elementary school class, and the Director of Lucky Ones asked him which dog he would pick to 'save' in the shelter to find a permanent home. That dog was Marley. And if he hadn't been picked, he would have been put to sleep the next day, at seven months old.

So, Marley and I were both lucky when he was picked by that 10 year old kid, because he's as close to a child that I've ever had. He's incredibly spoiled. He snuggles with me, he licks my tears when I cry, and he's officially my shadow, following me around everywhere I go.

A cat (and person) in a dog suit, I managed to keep Marley from begging until he was 6, when my now husband decided to teach him to 'effectively communicate'. (which he is still very proud of) Marley was trained on food by my husband, who was formerly a teacher, to point with his paw at what he wanted, whether it was to go out, if he needed more water, or anything really... But really what he did was teach Marley to beg, because that's when the aggressive 'pointing' with the paw started at the dinner table.

Over 10 years later, Marley is approaching his 11th birthday, on December 23rd, and now more than ever the history I share with this little dog, my longest 'relationship' I like to joke, becomes increasingly important to me, and makes me hope that for years to come, my golden boy will be there, too.



And the song that we associate with Marley will always make me smile, as well...(remember, I said Marley is COOL)



(Remembering Dutch, my friend's dog that passed away two weeks ago. You will be missed.)

Charleston on a Sunday, the Aquarium: An Easy, Happy Day

As the last of the weekend comes to an end, I sit here with my husband and dog thinking about how three day weekends should be mandatory across the US. No, I'm not a socialist, I just believe in balance.

My brother and sister-in-law came to visit this weekend with my nephew, and were able to see first hand how badly we want to live downtown on the river in a schmancy million dollar house (onnnnne day), while we walked around the Battery on this cold day (much colder than I thought it would get here) passing overpriced needlework stores that sit next to lawyer's offices. I guess I did think Charleston was as warm as south Florida. Soooo not the case.

To get a break from the chilly weather, we decided to go to the Charleston Aquarium, which turned out to be a real treat.



Having only been to the Baltimore Aquarium before, I expected it to be similar in some ways to that, but it wasn't. The fish, birds, and reptiles are all from the Southeastern part of the country. (I won't mention the poisonous snakes that we saw curled up together, due to the fact that my husband is TERRIFIED of snakes).

When we saw the birds that were there, at first, it made me really sad the way they were longing to be outside with their gazes...birds shouldn't live in a cage.



What we soon learned, though, was the fact that all of the birds that live at the Aquarium are hurt in some way that wouldn't allow them to survive in the wild. That made us all feel better.



And then we saw the huge tank full of fish, a giant sea turtle, coral and sharks. Simply beautiful. And a great way to end the weekend. Period.

Just Breathe: Week Two of Being Positive

Okay, I'm breaking my own rule. I said that I would never discuss politics on this Blog.

Well, I'm kind of breaking the rule and kind of not, because really I'm only going to say in my week two 'beeeeeeeee positive', is that I've had a really difficult two months, since I don't deal with change very well, and not really having a friend that I can call to go out on the spur of the moment when I need a friend here in Charleston is just...really hard. So I decided, on a Wednesday night, to take myself to the most positive place I have been introduced to here in Charleston (thanks to two great friends), which is Seacoast Church. By myself.

And I normally wouldn't be talking about it in this forum because I really like to keep the spirituality stuff personal (just how I roll) except for the fact that it was quite different tonight than I thought it would be. After the normal singing opener, which at this place, I would say is as good as 20 minutes of yoga, the super cool and progressive (and seemingly very Liberal) Pastor, Greg Surratt, introduces his friend that just won in the South Carolina Congress yesterday, Republican Tim Scott, to the congregation, since apparently Tim has attended the church for 14 years. (and this is when all of my Democrat friends (and family) say 'BOOOO HISSSSSSSS' and all of my Republican family members say 'WOW, THAT'S REALLY COOL')

But my point is not that he is a Republican, or the fact that he's not a Democrat, because at this point in my life I'm about as moderate as they get and I could swing either way, really, because I really don't know who to believe anymore in politics. What really struck me with this person, Tim Scott, was his story and the odds he has overcome to make it to the point in his life that he, yesterday, was voted into the United States Congress. This man grew up in a poverty stricken household with an alcoholic father and single mother, and nowhere to turn until he had a positive influence that came into his life when he was a sophomore in high school, and this person helped Tim find the good and the inner-strength to break out, to go to college, get a degree in Poli Sci, start a successful business that eventually allowed him to give back to the community and also to buy his mother a house to ensure she was taken care of, and now has propelled him to Washington, DC.

I love hearing stories of people that beat the odds, because really that's what we all need right now when life seems so bleak and hard. And this story, well...it's a little familiar. I just hope the story I know ends up with the same happy ending.

But here's the main thing that Tim said that really stuck with me. He said 'It's not other Americans that need to clean up their acts to get this country back on track. It starts with US cleaning up our OWN ACTS to get this country back on track'. It's about accountability, which is so important now, and which is something that I try to be as much as possible.

My hope is that this post won't make anyone mad or turn anyone off...this post is not about partisanship, but is really about trying to see the good in people, if you agree with them or not, and to see the light at the end of the really long, dark tunnel.

And on that note, I leave you with this lovely song, which has gotten me through many tough days the past few months, and will get me through many more, no doubt.

"Just Breathe" (Yes, Laurie likes techno) :)

Halloween: The Aftermath

The day after Halloween is kind of like the day after Christmas. You have all of this build up, you have a great day (and night), and then you are already thinking about what you want to be next year. (Tom Petty? Hmmmm. Ike and Tina? Maybe. We saw an amazing Tina Turner that inspired me ((and then I could dance to Tina Turner music all night.)) YES!)

So here's what we did:


Costume Number 1: Sammy Hagar. No, I wasn't kidding when I said I was going to be David Lee Roth and my husband was going to be Sammy Hagar. The chin strap goatee was key. And boy was he GLORIOUS. HAHAHAHA. And someone came up to us and asked if that was his REAL HAIR. So there it is. He could totally pull it off. And what surprised him even more was that I liked it and started talking about him growing his hair out. I stopped talking when he started looking at me funny.



Costume Number 2: David Lee Roth. I'm not nearly as cool as my husband, I will admit. So I will just chalk it up to say I had an awesome time and one person at the Halloween party knew who we were. SUCCESS!



The First Destination: Taco Boy in downtown Charleston. So we heard about a Halloween party downtown at Taco Boy, and considering I knew nothing about where we were headed, except that there is another Taco Boy in Folly Beach, I was wondering if we were headed in the right direction. But after we drove through a seedy part of town in which I maintained veto power on the destination for most of the way, I was pleasantly surprised based on the number of cars at the restaurant, and the sheer coolness of the place. A restaurant with a huge outdoor fenced area with tables, palm trees, an outdoor bar, glittering strung lights, and a rockin' reggae band, I was thrilled. Taco Boy. Equipped with a Yoda with a 5 foot head, and a couple dressed as 'Up!', in a house they totally built, with balloons flying overhead (who apparently won $1,000 after we left for best costume - but they seriously deserved it...we wondered how they would even get drinks). All in all, I'm so glad we made it here. Best. Halloween. Party. Ever. These peeps take Halloween to a level I've never seen. In a good way.

The Second: Triangle Bar. Headed home, we stopped at the Triangle, but after going to Taco Boy, it was hard to compete. Minutes later we were back in the car driving home to watch as much of the movie Misery as we could before bedtime.

Halloween: Day 2 (the real Halloween): Old City Jail Tour.




So we booked a 7pm Ghost Tour here on Halloween. The sun was setting as we drove up. The ominous lack of lighting and decaying building exterior just looked CREEPY. And boy were we excited. Stories of dead bodies that were buried outside of the jail without gravestones were told, of awful conditions of the jail from the 1700's to the 1930's when the government finally said 'enough' and opened a new jail with electricity and 'necessities'. This place was beyond dreadful and spooky, and if there ever was a ghost in Charleston, I bet it was here. I mean, this place held one of the first documented female serial killers, who was an innkeeper that poisoned her guests with Oleander tea. Yikes.



Stories of Solitary Confinement in the Prison. But what took the scary cake, was when we were outside the solitary confinement area of the jail, below a single red light that gloomily lit the room. I was standing there listening to stories of the 'living coffins' the prisoners were placed in for days, weeks, and months, which was their version of solitary confinement...when...something touched my right arm more than once, only to look over and see that the nearest person to my right was over a foot away.

We were told that many strange and unexplainable experiences happen in this place, all the time.

What did everyone else do for Halloween? Amazing or not, tell me about it!