Wednesday, November 15, 2006
A Week From Today
I will be on the west side of Memphis, crossing the river, touching Eastern Arkansas and curving towards Little Rock. A mere 113 minutes from my Mamaw's house and my Marmee's hugs.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
Apple in the Square
I got down to the Quarter early today, about 2 hours before work. The weather is cool and windy now, perfect really. I walked around searching for Caroline's birthday present but found nothing I liked enough to purchase. After pacing Royal and Dauphine and Chartres I stopped at the A&P on some corner and bought a Diet Coke and a very shiny apple.
I followed the sound of horns to Jackson Square and sat in front of St.Louis Cathedral, eating my apple, watching the tourists. The horn section directly in front of me broke into a rough, gorgeous version of House of the Rising Sun and Mark Antony (that cannot be his real name) walked over and told me my hair was gorgeous in the light. I think he said something about "lovin" as well, but I focused on the sweet compliment and not the inappropriate insinuation.
He said something else. He said, "you by yo'self, that's powerful, means you not from 'round heah." I'm not sure what he meant by "powerful," maybe he doesn't see a lot of young women eating apples alone in the Square. But the "not from 'round heah" hurt. Is it so obvious? And why? Because I feel like I'm from "heah" more than St.Louis or Kansas City or Virginia. I feel like I'm from Arkansas and New Orleans, like the rest of those places were just cities where I happened to live.
And now I'm applying to jobs in cities that have never been home to me. It isn't to say that I was unhappy in those cities. But some places are just lonelier than others, and I have never been lonely in New Orleans. The pull of being closer to family and friends is what drags me away from here. And proximity to my parents and siblings is worth giving this place up. But that doesn't make the losing of it easier.
I followed the sound of horns to Jackson Square and sat in front of St.Louis Cathedral, eating my apple, watching the tourists. The horn section directly in front of me broke into a rough, gorgeous version of House of the Rising Sun and Mark Antony (that cannot be his real name) walked over and told me my hair was gorgeous in the light. I think he said something about "lovin" as well, but I focused on the sweet compliment and not the inappropriate insinuation.
He said something else. He said, "you by yo'self, that's powerful, means you not from 'round heah." I'm not sure what he meant by "powerful," maybe he doesn't see a lot of young women eating apples alone in the Square. But the "not from 'round heah" hurt. Is it so obvious? And why? Because I feel like I'm from "heah" more than St.Louis or Kansas City or Virginia. I feel like I'm from Arkansas and New Orleans, like the rest of those places were just cities where I happened to live.
And now I'm applying to jobs in cities that have never been home to me. It isn't to say that I was unhappy in those cities. But some places are just lonelier than others, and I have never been lonely in New Orleans. The pull of being closer to family and friends is what drags me away from here. And proximity to my parents and siblings is worth giving this place up. But that doesn't make the losing of it easier.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Impatience
We are an impatient, easily aggravated species. The tiniest hiccup in our day can send us spiraling into despair or anger. A misunderstanding, a misplaced hello, an unaccepted invitation...all can make the world seem bent on our destruction, especially on the days we forget to bring enough change for the coke machine. Aggravation is so rarely logical.
I voted today. Just barely. I drove to the school where I normally vote as I imagined myself stopping for all of 5 minutes on my way to work. Of course, things never end up how I imagine them. I managed to arrive at the same time every criminally insane and/or slow person decided to vote and/or pick up their child. At one point the one-way street next to the school suffered a jam as people decided to park on both sides and then people decided "one way" just meant "pick whatever way you like" and tried to squeeze their hummers and let-me-suck-all-the-oxygen-out-of-your-personal-air-space SUV monstrosities into parking spaces that wouldn't fit a tricycle.
After excavating myself from the jam I wanted to give up. To hell with Karen Carter and Louisiana's only hope for sane representation. To hell with democracy. But then I noticed that half the cars that had been stuck in front of me, cars that had sat idle longer than me, were pulling over, parking on the burb, sidling up to the side of trailers. People got out with their driver's license in hand, scowls of impatience and annoyance on their faces (mirroring mine I bet), and skulked into that building.
I skulked in, too.
Nobody talks in those voting rooms, nobody even smiles. We all have places to go, people to love, cars to unpark, annoyances to get over. It struck me that everyone in that room had a viable reason for skipping the voting booth today. Traffic's too bad, Louisiana doesn't even matter (doomed red state), rush hour's coming on, dinner will get cold. But even impatience can take a back seat some days for bigger, hopefully better, things.
I voted today. Just barely. I drove to the school where I normally vote as I imagined myself stopping for all of 5 minutes on my way to work. Of course, things never end up how I imagine them. I managed to arrive at the same time every criminally insane and/or slow person decided to vote and/or pick up their child. At one point the one-way street next to the school suffered a jam as people decided to park on both sides and then people decided "one way" just meant "pick whatever way you like" and tried to squeeze their hummers and let-me-suck-all-the-oxygen-out-of-your-personal-air-space SUV monstrosities into parking spaces that wouldn't fit a tricycle.
After excavating myself from the jam I wanted to give up. To hell with Karen Carter and Louisiana's only hope for sane representation. To hell with democracy. But then I noticed that half the cars that had been stuck in front of me, cars that had sat idle longer than me, were pulling over, parking on the burb, sidling up to the side of trailers. People got out with their driver's license in hand, scowls of impatience and annoyance on their faces (mirroring mine I bet), and skulked into that building.
I skulked in, too.
Nobody talks in those voting rooms, nobody even smiles. We all have places to go, people to love, cars to unpark, annoyances to get over. It struck me that everyone in that room had a viable reason for skipping the voting booth today. Traffic's too bad, Louisiana doesn't even matter (doomed red state), rush hour's coming on, dinner will get cold. But even impatience can take a back seat some days for bigger, hopefully better, things.
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