Cats...

the musical, that is. Last Thursday one of my bosses at work offered me his tickets to that evening's production of Cats. You should know that I love seeing Broadway shows. I wouldn't say I'm an expert or anything but over the years I've definitely seen my fair share of them and so far, I've enjoyed every single one immensely (Wicked, and Jesus Christ Superstar have been my favorites to date, but that's neither here nor there). Needless to say, I was thrilled with the offer to see Cats even though I had gotten very mixed reviews from people I know who had seen it. So, we went.

And it was really, really weird. I mean, really weird.


I don't know if maybe I'm just not artistic enough to appreciate it or what, but frankly I didn't get it. I sat there for two hours trying to figure out what in the world was even going on. I never did establish what the plot or the storyline of the thing was...I'm pretty sure it just didn't have one. If it did, it certainly managed to elude me. Between all of the jeckle Cats and Rum-tum Tuggers, and Old Deuteronomy I was lost. (If you just read those last few phrases and had no idea what in the heck I was talking about then congratulations, you now know exactly how I felt the whole time the show was going on).


All that is not to say some parts weren't enjoyable. The costuming and dancing really were amazing. I'd always heard that part of what made Cats so unique was the way the actors and actresses managed to appear so feline. And they did.

See what I mean? Kinda eerie almost, isn't it? The way they moved and danced was, like I said, incredibly feline in nature and was very cool to see. It's too bad there weren't those pesky little things like dialogue, or a plot.

Breaks My Heart

There's no good way to talk about this without making myself sound pretty bad and most likely offending at least a few of you. I apologize in advance; I realize now that my opinions may have been overly harsh and unfair and that by holding them I was perpetuating an attitude of ignorance. I am sorry for that. Here goes.

Homeless people used to really bother me; on a number of levels. (See? Told you it was harsh). Not that I was ever approached by that many in Lexington but there were a few times and I was cornered and asked for money and it always left me feeling more than a little uncomfortable. I was uncomfortable in part because it was usually strange men coming up to me at night and in part because I guess the thought of anyone living in such conditions was unnerving to me in general. I used to get frustrated too (and this is where is gets really bad) because I felt like, with few exceptions, we all have to work for whatever we have in life. "Here I am, working my butt off to get through school so that I can hopefully one day earn a decent living and you have the audacity to ask me for money?"; " Why not go out and get a job yourself?"; These are the kinds of things I thought. I rarely every carried cash anyway but on the rare occasion that I did have some, I'd have chewed on rusty nails before giving it away.

I have no idea why, but my mindset has completely changed since moving down here. Now I give money to just about anyone who asks me for it. Again, I still rarely carry cash but if I do happen to have some on me and someone asks if I can spare some change, I will. I rarely have more than a few dollars, or maybe a $5, but I dunno; for some reason it no longer bothers me to give that away. I don't know if its because in the people here I see a true desolation unlike anything I ever saw in Lexington or if maybe I'm just getting kinda soft in my old age but either way, something inside me has changed.

The other night I had to run by the drug store to pick up a prescription. The Rite-Aid I use is in a decent and safe enough part of town but for whatever reason, it also happens to be a very popular place for people to panhandle. I remember the very first week I was in New Orleans I gave $5 to a guy who was sitting in his wheelchair right outside the door. He had no legs, and I had just finished running a couple miles at the park. Looking back I think I almost felt guilty that I was able to stand and walk around while he wasn't, so I gladly gave him the few dollars I had. Now whether he actually used that money to buy food (like he claimed) or drugs or cigarettes or whatever I don't know. But he was so genuinely thankful when I handed it to him that his gratitude alone made it worth it to me. I talked to him briefly; he told me his name and asked how my run was, then thanked me again, said "God bless you," and rolled off. Annnnnd...I don't really know where I was going with that story, other than to share it with you.

Back to the other night when I went by to get my Rx. This time there was a young guy standing outside who asked me for money as I walked by. He couldn't have been much older than me but the thing was, he was standing there with a little girl who couldn't have been more than five or six years old. At the time I assumed she was his daughter, but maybe she was a sister or niece or something like that. Regardless, seeing her standing out on the sidewalk with him, begging people for money kinda broke my heart a little bit. Or maybe a whole lot. What kind of life must that little girl have if she has to do things like that? Little girls should be at home playing with Barbies and dolls when they're that age; not standing on street corners in the middle of the night asking strangers for money. The guy told me they had run out of gas and just needed enough money to get home on, so I gave him what cash I had. Driving home afterwards though, I couldn't get the thought of that poor girl out of my head. It still makes me sad to think about it.

I guess maybe I do have a point to sharing this story after all. I know there is pain and suffering all over the world and even at the worst, people in America still have it better than some people who live in third world countries elsewhere. But that doesn't mean that things are by any means ok down here and that doesn't make the things people have to do to get by acceptable or alright. So I guess what I'm asking is, if you have any extra prayers laying around that maybe you could send one up for the people down here in New Orleans who are still suffering so much?

What Not to Wear

I'm a big, big fan of this show. Leah and Mom and I have watched it for years and if I had to pick who I think has the best job in the world, it would be Stacy and Clinton from What Not to Wear. I mean it. Their whole job is to shop (uh yeah, pretttttty sure I could handle that) and in the process, they really help people and in most cases, change people's lives for the better. They motivate these people--usually women--to take care of themselves and have more self confidence and teach them that they can be beautiful. I think that's awesome.

So yes, I'm jealous of their job. That's not the point of all this though. What I'm getting around to telling you is that I actually saw Clinton Kelly in the mall on Saturday! He has apparently (and I can't believe this is the first I've heard of it) partnered with Macy's to do "Make Over America," where he is traveling all over the country giving women free make-overs. This past Saturday marked the one-year anniversary of Macy's return to the mall here after Katrina, so in honor of that, Clinton was here. Sooooooo cool.

They had a stage set up in the middle of the mall so we were actually able to get pretty close. And of course, it was the one time I didn't have my camera in my purse...so no, I didn't get any pictures. But I can tell you he looks just the same in person as he does on TV, though maybe slightly more muscular than I realized. Ok so yeah, that's it.

What to Wear

So here's my latest dilemma (and yes, to some extent this one does involve the weather here so...yeah, sorry. I can't help it. Get off my back.)

I'm having a hard time figuring out what to wear to work here. Guys have it easy; business dress means a suit and tie and business casual means dress pants and a dress shirt, no matter what the weather. Girls on the other hand, have sooooo many more options and choices and decisions that must be made.

I don't have any problem determining what to wear in terms of just being business appropriate; I've got that down cold. What's hard for me is figuring out what's appropriate for the season because well, the seasons down here don't make any sense at all. Case in point; today is October 21. Halloween is only a week and a half away. Annnnnd its like 85 degrees here. At this point it just seems wrong to be wearing my summer clothes because its past Labor Day and we all know that fashion rules change dramatically after Labor Day. All my Fall and Winter clothes are way too dark and heavy for the weather here though. Living in a tropical climate is sooooo not conducive to wearing the heavy wool sweaters I'm so partial to but all my lightweight clothing is white, or pale pink or pale yellow or...you get the idea. Summery looking. I know this probably seems trivial and kinda dumb and like if this is my biggest complaint in life I'm probably doing ok but this is a BIG problem for me because I don't like the thought of looking inappropriately dressed and I spend probably 20 minutes every morning agonizing over what to wear to work. Just so you know.

There's No Place Like Home

I just had the one of the best weekends I've had in a long time. It started Friday with the Barrister's Ball which I have been affectionately referring to as the Law School Prom when people ask me about it. Really! It was a semi-formal dinner/dance complete with "prom" Kings and Queens and everything. Not gonna lie, I had mixed feelings about this thing beforehand. First of all...prom? In law school? I could have sworn we outgrew that kind of thing awhile ago. Come on. Second, we've heard stories of years past when this thing got completely out of control. As in, the law school has been permanently banned from hosting functions at every place its ever used to have the ball because the students have gotten so drunk and out of control that substantial damage has been done to these facilities. I like to have fun as much as anyone but I think at the point that you're destroying private property, its safe to look around and say that things have gone a little too far. But maybe that's just me being a party pooper, I dunno. Either way, I wasn't quite sure what to expect.

Before leaving for the prom.

The back was my favorite part of the dress.


The (hottie) significant others of some 1Ls.

Future lawyers.

I can say with completely sincerity that I was pleasantly surprised. We ended up going with (double dating if you will) some of our new friends from here in NOLA, and then we met up with several other couples once we got there too. Yes, it really was just like prom (with a suuuuuper cheesy theme no less--Enchantment Under the Sea) but in a good way. The food was pretty decent, the live music was good and for the most part, everyone managed to behave themselves. At least as far as I saw, no one broke, stole or otherwise defaced or damaged the building, no one starting having sex in public (yes, this really happened a couple years ago), and no one even got so slobbering drunk that they passed out or got sick. I'd call that a successful party! I mean, what more can you ask for, really? We left the prom around 11 and ended up hanging out at the Columns Hotel for awhile with a group of people, then just sitting around and talking to Chad and Ashley (our prom "dates") for hours after that. So yeah, all in all, it was a good night.


It was also, at least for me, a very long night. What I haven't mentioned on here because it was supposed to be a surprise is that I was going to fly home last weekend to surprise my mom for her 50th birthday! My Dad, sister and I have been planning this since...oh, about July when I moved down here, and I've been crazy looking forward to it for weeks. My flight left New Orleans at 6:00 a.m. Saturday morning, which meant that by the time we got home from prom I only had a couple hours before I needed to be at the airport. I don't know about you but I feel like death when I stay up late then try to sleep for an hour before getting back up; I'm much better if I just stay awake straight though. So that's what I did. Poor Zack got dragged out of bed at 4:00 a.m. to drive me to the airport.

I landed in Lexington around 11 and boy, did it feel good to be there. I was so excited I was literally bouncing up and down in my seat as we flew over Keeneland and all the horse farms. Yes, I looked like a four-year-old waiting to go to Disney World and yes, people sitting around me probably thought I was nuts. I didn't care. I know I've said I missed home, but it really hit me how much I love that place when I saw it for the first time in months. It almost, almost got a little dusty in the plane there for a second. It warmed my heart a little too when I got off the plane and there in the gate area probably half the people waiting were wearing blue Kentucky regalia of some sort. Sadly, I had nearly forgotten how much a staple Kentucky Blue is in most people's wardrobes back home. Down here everyone is either wearing black and gold for the Saints or purple for LSU (gag me on the latter of those two).



Dad had fabricated this elaborate story for Mom about why he needed to be at the airport on Saturday morning (basically, he told her he had a shipment of goat blood to pick up which, if you know Dad, isn't nearly as out-in-left-field as it sounds). He and Leah came in to meet me, while Mom waited out in the car completely oblivious to what we were doing. Needless to say, when I walked up to the car and knocked on her window she was SHOCKED! Success! We definitely managed to surprise her!

We headed to Louisville to spend the day with my grandparents, and then we all went to dinner that night at Jack Fry's in the Highlands. Friends of mine have been recommending that place for years but this was the first time we'd ever been. It was really good! Very cool old building with lots of history behind it. If I'm not mistaken, Jack Fry used to be a bookie and he ran his business above the restaurant. I guess he was as close as Louisville got to having a mafia, back in the day. We topped off this fantastic day by eating the molten chocolate lava cakes that Leah and I made, and watching the CATS beat Auburn. (In my mind, the Fight song is playing right now).

Sunday we got up and went to church at Calvary which is the church I attended throughout my college years and also where Zack and I joined when we got engaged. I've missed this place as much as anything else since being away and I loved being able to be there on Sunday. We had lunch afterwards as a family and then we spent a couple hours shopping (!!!!!) before heading back to the house so that I could get packed to head to the airport. Mom and Dad dropped me off and three hours later I was back in NOLA with Zack. It was an absurdly quick trip but I'm so, so glad I was able to make it. I was able to surprise my Mom, and I got to enjoy being home for a couple days.

Now if only I could click my ruby slippered heels together and make it be Thanksgiving already...

Deep Thoughts, Part II

When I was in college I got in the habit of going to the mall on Friday afternoons. It started out as a way to just get away for awhile. I loved every single second of living in the dorms but sometimes, you just kinda need some alone time, you know? There were days when I just needed to be by myself and unwind, away from the constant activity (can you say sensory overload?) that went on and all of the people who lived in the dorms. When I first moved to Lexington I knew how to get to exactly three places; my ex boyfriend's house, Texas Roadhouse (the restaurant) and the mall so by default, the mall became my get-away.

Before long I got to where I really looked forward to my weekly mall trip. I rarely ever even bought anything. I mean, I was an 18 year old college freshman with no job; its not like I had the money to bankroll any kind of weekly shopping spree. But I got really, really good at window shopping and wish-listing and in doing those things, I think I gained something very valuable. Motivation.

I love clothes and I REALLY love shoes. I couldn't afford to buy them then, but every time I went through the mall I'd tell myself that someday I would. Someday I'd have the financial means to do and have anything I could ever want, and I wouldn't even have to think twice about the number on the price tag. Maybe this sounds greedy and selfish and materialistic...and it is! No doubt. I am all of those things. But at the same time, knowing that there were things out there that I wanted was the motivation it took to get me through school.

Probably in college everybody has "those" days. The one's where you study your brains out for a test and still blow it. Or the days when you're so exhausted from staying up for six days straight studying for finals that you can barely walk. Or the days when it hits you that you have absolutely no idea what in the heck you're supposed to be doing with your life and you wonder if maybe you've just wasted the past three semesters on classes you didn't need. I had lots of those days and the temptation was always there in the background to just drop out, call it quits, pack it in, and go home.

The fact that Mom and Dad would have killed me not withstanding (I am not even joking; y'all would've been attending my funeral), I didn't drop out and I didn't go home because I recognized that if I did I'd likely never be able to have all the things I wanted in life. It's hard to explain but by the time I left the mall on those Friday afternoons to head back to campus, more often than not I had a completely renewed outlook on life and felt ready to once again tackle the ups and downs of college. It fired me up to think that the work I was doing then would eventually (hopefully) parlay itself into a means of getting stuff down the road. It gave meaning to college and all the tests and quizzes and papers. It put things into perspective for me, made me realize that there was still a world outside the college "bubble" and made me see that the work was a necessary evil for the time being.

Do I advocate retail therapy for everyone? Probably not. It worked for me because we've always established that I'm materialistic and motivated by having nice things. So no, to some people a walk around the mall would be nothing more than a waste of an hour on Friday afternoon. But not to me.

Deep Thoughts

That title may be somewhat misleading because it would seem to imply that I do in fact have deep thoughts to share with you. I'm not saying I don't...I'm just saying maybe I don't have any right this minute.

Zack says he really really enjoys my blog. He loves it. Thinks its great. He just thinks maybe I should write more "deep thoughts" and "less about the weather." (Clearly, someone didn't appreciate that stellar and highly scientific analysis I came up with yesterday linking New Orleans' weather and its crime rate because I thought that was a pretty deep thought, personally).

The problem is that I don't have deep thoughts worthy of being blogged about every single day. Maybe I should, but I don't. I'm having all kinds of thoughts every day that fascinate and entertain me but I'm not so sure they are appropriate or even interesting enough to actually share with anyone else. Let me give you an example.

Whole Foods. The grocery store. There's a huge Whole Foods down here that we go to occasionally but we rarely buy anything because its super expensive. I call it the Hippie Store though, because everything in there is organic, free-range or vegan. I'm not saying every time I go its full of hippies...obviously this is a generalization and other people shop there too; I'm just saying there are a disproportionate number of long haired/bra free/save-the-whales t-shirt-wearing women in there when I go. Make of that what you will. So anyway, I've noticed something about Whole Foods. It always smells like hot dogs in there every time I go. Not like roasting hot dogs over a campfire which might be ok; it smells like soggy, water-logged hot dogs left over in the concession stand after a ball game.

I don't know, I guess I forget since I don't go in there all that often, but every time I do visit that store the first thing I notice when I walk in is the smell. It slaps me in the face the minute I go through the door. I then spend the next 10, 15, 20 (however long it takes me to get what I came for) minutes trying to figure out what in that store could possibly be producing such a smell. It's that overwhelming that it consumes my thoughts while I'm in there. Not gonna lie; the first time I went I spent 15 minutes walking around the store to see if they were selling or giving away free hot dogs somewhere. I didn't want one. I don't even like them. I just wanted to know where the smell was coming from.

See? I bet you're thinking that was a stupid thing for me to share on here. And you're right, it was.