Overdressed

This post may be the hardest post to follow ever in the history of my posts. That is due to 1) the amount of alcohol consumed tonight, and 2) the excitement of having made a contact with a past friend that I never expected to meet again in this lifetime.

Tonight we had dinner with Big Daddy's parents. Today was his mom's 81st birthday. Now, we technically work 8:30-5 p.m. at my office. At 4 p.m. today, my boss sent an email to the five of us that are scheduled to do a proposal on Tuesday. He said: "Can we all meet for 10 minutes at 4 p.m.?"

Of course, that meeting lasted until 5:30!! And My Kid & I were scheduled to meet Big Daddy & his parents at the restaurant at 7 for his mother's birthday dinner.

And I still had to run all the way out Germantown Road (in rushhour) to pick up some clothes at the tailor's so My Kid had something to wear to dinner tonight. And the alterations shop closed at 6!!

So I flew out of the office at 5:30 (with the promise to my new PR girl that we would get together on Sunday to create the slides for the new biz powerpoint). I fight all sorts of traffic to run into the alterations shop approximately one minute before they close. *Whew*

Rush home with the clothes. Shave legs in order to change out of the casual day jeans into fall-is-here black skirt, turtleneck and boots. Grab Kid and rush out the door on schedule. Realize responsibility of buying birthday cards fell to me. Rush to nearest drug store. My Kid buys "Happy Birthday Grandma" card and I buy the requisite "We love you, Mom" card.

Meet Big Daddy and his parents at the restaurant. I show up (after ALL THAT) five minutes early. Turns out they've been waiting for us for 15 minutes. *Sigh*

Dinner is decent. I order a bottle of wine b/c dinner with my octogenarian inlaws is miserable without alcohol (much as I LOVE THEM).

Kid rides home with Big Daddy and In-Laws. Which leaves me open to stop at local bar for a couple of shots before heading home.

**HERE'S WHERE IT GETS GOOD!!!"**
So I walk in local bar for quick Patron Silver shot. Beautiful blonde suddenly shows up next to me at bar.

She: "Did you used to work at Chili's in the 90s?"

Me: "Errrr...yeah...???"

It took me a minute to recognize her, but OH. MY. FREAKING. GOD... YOU'RE TUCKER!!!

Dude, there are probably 50 people that could come up to me and say, "We used to wait tables together." And 48 of them would probably get this reaction from me, "Hi, yeah...nice to see you...gotta go..."

But are you fucking kidding me??? This was CHRISTINE FUCKING TUCKER. Oh my freaking god. I LOVED this girl. Then and now. How motherfuckingfreaking fun.



















Whoa. She looks way hotter than me in this photo, doesn't she? SEE WHY I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE HER???

Posted by Kalisa at 10:53 PM | Permalink | Comments

Donald Rumsfeld is giving the President his daily briefing.

He concludes by saying, "Yesterday, 3 Brazilian soldiers died in Iraq."

"Oh no!" exclaimed the President. "That's terrible!"

His staff are stunned by his display of emotion, nervously watching as the President sits with his head in his hands.

Finally, Bush looks up and asks, "How many is a brazillion?"

Posted by Kalisa at 1:42 PM | Permalink | Comments

The good news is...
I had my first yoga class today. It was fantastic! A gift! My back felt SO GREAT all afternoon, although my arms and legs were a little SHAKEY for a while after lunch.

The bad news is...
He didn't make the cut. Which totally FLOORS me. When I picked him up at 4:30 this afternoon, he had a huge smile on his face. But he said, "I didn't make the cut." I thought he was fucking with me. I said, "Yeah? Well you got an awful big smile on your face." Then he went on to say that he didn't make it, and neither did [his friend] Mitch, who "ran the mile in 5:18.

Turns out the first day's tryouts was all about RUNNING. Now, I'm no coach, but I simply do not see how running the mile qualifies a person to play basketball. I mean, you got a kid that's head & shoulders above all the other kids, don't you even want to BRING HIM BACK and see if he's got any skills?? But whatev.

The good news is, My Kid was upbeat about it. His friend that he tried out with (who ran the mile in 5:18 and is at least as tall as My Kid) didn't make the cut either.

I just can't for the life of me figure what the hell the coach is looking for.

More bad news...
Me & the kid aren't getting along so well these days since Big Daddy is traveling so much. It's very frustrating to me, since I'm here all week trying to keep things running. It's kinda like being a single mom, only I have to sleep with the ex every weekend when he gets the kids.

Posted by Kalisa at 9:27 PM | Permalink | Comments

...My Kid is trying out for the school basketball team. Please send all your good thoughts his way.

I made him a nice big lunch, and packed a PowerBar in his backpack. He's wearing his lucky shorts.
When I pick him up at 4:30 this afternoon, he'll know whether he's been invited to come back tomorrow for Round 2 of the try-outs. I feel quite confident he'll at least get a callback. It's a middle school team, and he's in 7th grade this year. We've already discussed ad nauseum here about how tall he is.

If he gets the callback today, he'll know by the time I pick him up at 4:30 tomorrow afternoon if he made the team. The tryouts are closed. No friends or parents hanging out watching.

So please, please send lots of good karma and fates his way. Because reminding him that Michael Jordan didn't make HIS middle school team either just doesn't really alleviate the disappoint.

Posted by Kalisa at 10:35 AM | Permalink | Comments

If, for some reason, you had to have breast reconstruction surgery, would you get them the same size as they are now?

Because I'm a 34D, and, while I think my boobs are beautiful, I get awfully tired the way they cause me to wear my clothes. Like, I have to buy shirts in medium, so that they don't gap around my bustline, and then pay to have them tailored - darts put in at the waist, sleeves shortened. And lots of shirts that would be perfectly decent on a smaller chest make me look like some kind of porn star because of all the cleavage they reveal. So I think if I were having reconstructive surgery for some reason, I might get them one cup smaller.

The reason I ask, is because there's this girl in my office who's probably a bit larger than me. But then she told me that hers were fake b/c she had breast cancer and had to have them rebuilt bigger, stronger, faster. No, OK. She didn't really say that. In fact, I don't even know her well enough to ask what size she was before.

So I'm asking you instead. Same size? Smaller? Larger?

Posted by Kalisa at 8:57 AM | Permalink | Comments

Big Daddy bought himself a gift. Something he's been wanting for a long, long time.



It's a 52-inch flatscreen HDTV. In his office. Which he may never leave again.

Posted by Kalisa at 4:53 PM | Permalink | Comments

OMG the game's been over for an hour and I still can't breathe. Claritin sucks. I'm going to have to go see my doctor for something stronger.

Today we played another private school. They weren't small kids like last week, but still the officiating wasn't very good. Our coach was starting to get pissed. Thomas was on his way to the goal with the ball and there was only one defender down there, and the kid slid and tripped Thomas. Our coach was all, "Mr. Ref! If a forward in scoring position ends up on the ground THAT'S A FOUL!"

I also learned something new: Slide Tackle.

My Kid played defense mostly and midfield some. He's so used to playing forward that he kicks the ball like he's passing it to someone, instead of booting it downfield like a defender should.

I think it's funny that Harrison's parents sit on opposite sides of the field. I mean, not too funny for Harrison, I guess.

Final Score: Win, 3-0.

Posted by Kalisa at 12:20 PM | Permalink | Comments

Two names I left off my MOST WELCOME NEW GUESTS post:

Pink Pen Papers
Just Because...

Please see their links in the blogroll. And can I just say to everyone who has ever visited here, whether you've commented or not, I *HEART* YOU!!!

If someone writes in a blog, and no one reads it, does it make a sound? NO! Of course not! So thank you to all my readers. I love you dearly. You complete me.

Posted by Kalisa at 4:44 PM | Permalink | Comments

(A new *twist* on the song from Oliver. Geddit? TWIST??)

So I got ambitious last night and I tried to collect my shoes and line them up in my closet. This is what I came up with:



Some time ago, I confiscated these two bookshelves from My Kid's bedroom and used them to house my shoes. As you can see, they're not near enough. What I need is built-in shelves going all the way up the wall.

You'll also see that my closet's not so organized and neat afterall. Just look at all that junk piled up on the floor on the left. What is all that shit? Who knows. And you should see the huge pile of wire hangers from the cleaners that's just out of view of the camera.

Alright, lay into me now. Really let me have it! I know, I'm a spoiled rotten bitch shoe snob. Sad thing is, this doesn't even seem like that many to me now that I'm looking at them.

Posted by Kalisa at 11:13 AM | Permalink | Comments

Once upon a time, there was a Kid who grew so fast. His beautiful, caring, loving, attentive, sexy Mom tried to keep up with how quickly he was growing, but sometimes the season's offerings in the stores didn't coincide with his growth spurts. When he started back to school in EARLY AUGUST (which, BTW, his Mom thought was way, way early for school to start), he was forced to continue wearing the shorts he'd been wearing all summer.

She bought him some pants but it was still hot (so, soooo freaking hot) that he couldn't yet wear them. She bought a boy's size 18, though he was but 12 years of age, for that was the size he did require.

The shorts that he wore, they were only size 14. Which was, in fact, TWO SIZES too small for the Kid. But alas, no stores had shorts for sale in August.

And the schools, they did require that the Kid tuck in his shirts. Which made the two-sizes-too-small shorts even more uncomfortable for poor Kid. Mom continued to look for shorts online - even in the sale pages - but to no avail.

Eventually, it occurred to Mom that if size 18 was the largest boy's size, perhaps her Kid could wear the smallest of the men's size. She checked the size charts and lo and behold! The waist of a boy's 18 is 28 inches, while men's sizes started at 30 inches.

And the mother, she bought MENS shorts for her Kid.

And behold. They did fit.



And her wee Kid, he did wear the men's clothes.

Posted by Kalisa at 6:38 PM | Permalink | Comments

I have new friends. I don't know where they come from, but I love that they're here! I want to make everyone feel welcome to Overdressed so I'd like to invite my regular readers to visit these new readers' sites (all links are located in the blogroll).

Anna Hargott
Badger Meets World
By the Way
Fly Over States
Forever in Blue Jeans
In My Copious Free Time
Ragus Pug
Surviving the Twenty-Somethings
Tequila Stakes Croquet
Xman's Wife

Gosh, I hope I didn't miss anyone. I try to keep up with new faces but please forgive the faux pas if I have in fact overlooked anyone.

Posted by Kalisa at 2:26 PM | Permalink | Comments

I was supposed to start yoga class today. I was all excited. I've been wanting to get into yoga for years now. I just know it will help with all my back problems. Then I found out, at my new job, they have yoga up on the fourth floor on Thursdays at noon for $10 a class. How convenient it that?? So I had to wait until my latest back problems were healed and I was ALL READY to start today...

and the class was CANCELLED.

Posted by Kalisa at 1:09 PM | Permalink | Comments

What is it with Rebecca Romijn and cheesy actors?

Posted by Kalisa at 9:00 AM | Permalink | Comments

...that I don't want to put up a new post!

For some reason, I decided that you all would love to see a photo of my closet. So here it is. Please tell me that the amount of clothes I own is not excessive. Keep in mind Big Daddy's clothes fill the other side of the closet. And my winter clothes are hanging in the spare bedroom.

Huh. Look how all my suits are light, khaki colored. They are just screaming "CHUNKY TURQUOISE NECKLACE" don't you think? Yeah, me too. Unfortunately I can't find one anywhere. And believe me, I've been looking. Send me links.

Tomorrow...shoes. Only I have to collect them from all over the house first and line them up. OK, maybe shoes. That sounds like a lot of work.

Posted by Kalisa at 8:28 PM | Permalink | Comments

The follow up to the Nano post that you should have expected. I want your song recommendations.

All I know is, I don't want to fill my iPod with a bunch of songs I can turn on the radio and hear. So please, give me a list of five or so songs that you recommend I download.

My music tastes are pretty varied. I like alternative rock, vocal jazz, classical. Not really into rap or anything too pop. Definiately no country so skip that.

thanks!

Posted by Kalisa at 1:17 PM | Permalink | Comments

...as a nothing-special-just-because-I-love-you gift?

Posted by Kalisa at 10:05 PM | Permalink | Comments

Today we played a team from a private school. My Kid plays for the GSC league. There are three 12 & Under teams in that league, and then in the fall they add three private school teams to their schedules for a little more variety.

The first thing I noticed was that this team was really SMALL. Turns out they had kids as young as 8 on this team that was supposed to be 12 & under. And the parents from the other team that were sitting in front of me kept insinuating during warm-ups that the kids on our team weren't all under 12. They were making all these jokes like, "Where'd they recruit the high schoolers?" "Does that one kid have a mustache??" which I know were aimed at My Kid since, as I told you, he's the tallest one on his team.

The refs were letting a lot of calls on the other team go (especially handballs), I assume because we were up 3-0 and the other kids were so little. Which is fine and our coach didn't really care. He was even moving our players to all different positions because he didn't want to run up the score and it was a good opportunity to give our guys experience learning all the positions. My Kid, who's only ever played forward, played defense in the first half and center midfielder in the second.

But when the other team went off-sides to score a goal, our coach hollered at the side line judge (or whatever he's called), "Hey ref, let's watch the off-sides!" And those bitchy parents in front of me started saying, "Is this competitive?" like we don't have RULES in rec.

End of story: Win, 3-1.

Posted by Kalisa at 3:21 PM | Permalink | Comments

It's so easy. And convenient. And most places give you free shipping on returns as long as long as you're making an exchange. So if something doesn't fit, you can send it back and get the right size at no additional charge.

Yeah, the pink shoes. They didn't fit. They were European 36's (6's), but they were too big. My Prada pumps, when I bought them, they were a half size too small. They were MIS.ER.A.BLE for the fist three months that I owned them. But I suffered through and now? They're like buttah.

So the pink pumps, they are too loose too early. I must return. Boo. I'm sad. I wanted to wear them on Monday.

Today I also received my order from Gap. Yeah, I did a little shopping this week. *smile* In addition to the Gap skirts (in both colors) and the pink pumps, I got these shirts, two of these bras, and this top from my friend Vicky and also this skirt and these shoes. Yeah, I went a little crazy.

OK, so here's the weird thing that I wanted to share with you. One of the sites I ordered from (I don't remember which one) had the disclaimer that, due to the hurricane, delivery dates to some parts of the country could not be guaranteed.

Am I wondering, WHO THE HELL IN NEW ORLEANS IS ORDERING 4-INCH PINK PUMPS??

I mean, I KNOW they've lost everything. I KNOW they've got to start replacing somewhere, somehow. But really, I find it hard to believe that anyone on the Gulf Coast is ordering designer shoes at this point. It just seems weird to me.

Please remember that I've got many friends who have lost everything before you bash me for my completely insensitive post. Thanks.

Posted by Kalisa at 9:12 PM | Permalink | Comments

Please post your responses in the comments section

1. In what city (town) were you born?
Washington, D.C.
2. What was your impression of the largest city you've ever visited?
I *heart* NY. I thought it was fascinating and energizing and I'd love to spend much, much more time there. The few times I've been I haven't gotten to see NEAR enough of it.
3. What city are you just dying to visit?
Venice, Italy
4. If all barriers were removed, what city would you live in?
New York, or Paris (the barriers to that being, of course, if my French were better and if I weren't American and if the French wouldn't hate me and if I could afford to buy couture.)
5. What one thing would you do to change or improve the city you live in now?
Public transportation. I would put in a train or subway from way out east all the way to downtown.

Posted by Kalisa at 4:26 PM | Permalink | Comments

And my new shoes were just delivered! Yay! Happy Friday, indeed! Now I can't wait til Monday so I can wear them!!

Posted by Kalisa at 11:43 AM | Permalink | Comments

That they completely ignore the obvious.

Case in point:

The O.C. Season Premiere
Marissa Cooper shot Trey. We saw that at the end of last season. But the cops didn't believe ALL FOUR of the witnesses. Nooooo, uh-uh. Marissa was OBVIOUSLY covering for her boyfriend who OBVIOUSLY went to Trey's to kill his brother for attempted rape on Marissa. (Got all that?) Anyhoo...here's the point: POLICE OFFICERS TEST THE HANDS/FINGERS OF SHOOTING WITNESSES TO PROVE WHO FIRED THE GUN. I mean really, how simple is all that? Of course, they wouldn't have had a season premiere without omitting that simple fact of criminal justice.

Second Case:
(OK, I just realized that both these examples are from The O.C.)

The O.C. Week Two
Harbor wants to expel Ryan & Marissa because "no student at Harbor has ever been involved in a shooting." So Sandy and Julie Cooper-Nichol are sitting in a meeting with the principal, trying to convince her not to kick the kids out their senior year, even though there's a parents' petition with over 1,000 signatures. And Julie says, "You know my daughter - tall, pretty, wears Chanel? She's not exactly 'gansta'." But where's the reality here? Why doesn't anyone say, "What would you do if you walked into a room and found someone trying to kill your child and a gun lay at your feet?" No charges were filed. She saved a life, she didn't take one. But I guess there's no drama if it's realistic.

Posted by Kalisa at 7:09 PM | Permalink | Comments

I found Scott Bateman's Sketchbook of Secrets and Shame via Sweetney's site and I'm totally hooked.

He is hilarious. Very talented. And quite insightful.

You should bookmark it.

Posted by Kalisa at 9:36 AM | Permalink | Comments

This is where we held it - the Long Beach Yacht Club.

Or what's left of it anyway.

I didn't like the pink shirt I brought, so I wore a black one. But I didn't bring my black shoes, so I wore a black shirt, white pants, and pink shoes. The cosmos were $2.50. It was a night I'll never forget. Memories. They're all that's left.

Go to flickr to see more photos from my hometown.

Posted by Kalisa at 4:13 PM | Permalink | Comments

...I pick up My Kid from soccer practice, and I take him through the Chik-Fil-A drive-thru to get him some dinner so we can get home and watch Monday Night Football.

And as we pull into the garage, I tell him, "When we get inside, go wash your hands, and then you can eat."

And he says, "Aww, Mom...it's SOCCER. We don't USE our hands!"

Posted by Kalisa at 5:32 PM | Permalink | Comments

This weekend soccer started back. My Kid is totally a head and shoulders taller than every kid on the team. I had no idea. Well I had some idea since the pants I had to buy him for school are size 18. But I wasn't expecting the other kids to look so little.

My Kid plays forward and if any of you have any advice for: 1) how to keep him energized through an entire game, or 2) how to teach him to think fast and, say dribble the ball down the field when there's no one in front of him to pass it to, that would be great. Because I, myself, never played soccer. Or any sport for that matter. So I'm no help at all. Not that he would listen to me if I did try to help. Being 12 and all.

So it was the first game (and they'd only had one practice, even) and I try to be an involved mom and cheer them from the bleachers, but of course I don't know any of the kids' names yet. I was sitting next to one mom whose son had been on this team in the spring. (We registered too late to get My Kid back on his same team, but that's OK because that team never won and he probably didn't want to be on it anyway.) This lady knew some of the kids. I kept trying to figure out which one was Wyatt because she kept yelling his name over and over so I figured whoever he is, he must have the ball A LOT. About three-quarters of the way through the game I finally realized that she was cheering for the team in the WHITE jerseys.

Posted by Kalisa at 3:36 PM | Permalink | Comments

8:04
Someone actually named their daughter "Poppy"? And she's not even British?

8:19
I love me some skyscrapers. We all know that. But holy shit. Did you SEE how high Gwen Stefani's pumps were?? My lord, how the hell does she walk in those?

8:24
Rob Thomas, Helen was right - your voice is vocal orgasm. But baby, please don't wear your jeans so tight. This is supposed to be about FASHION. You look like something out of my freshman yearbook.

8:39
Granted, she sings in a foreign language, so I have no idea what she's saying. Maybe she's explaining herself. Because I do not get this herky-jerky dancing thing that Shakira does. It is not sexy and it's not attractive. It looks like someone showing off their double-jointed finger.

8:48
David Bowie usually dresses impeccably. And he looked pretty good tonight...if you couldn't see the lower half and the fact that his tailored suit pants came to just ABOVE HIS ANKLES! And...is that a black eye??

8:58
Gwen, you looked sooooo much better in the 1940s glamour dress than you do in that caftan-slash-nightgown. Why do you do that? Is that really worthy of introducing...

Duran Duran! The band so nice, they named it twice. Let me just say for the record, that we had a group of DD groupies in my high school in 1984. They wore lots of pins on their t-shirts that they bought at Spencer gifts with all the faces of the band members on them. They tried to circulate petitions to get the band to come play the Biloxi Coliseum (which, I'm assuming has been washed away now). I was NOT one of these girls. I did not color my hair Nick Rhodes Pink. But I liked their early music. "Rio" still ranks as one of my all-time favs (and I don't necessarily even think it's one of their best). Their video work was groundbreaking in the early days of Mtv. And I did think that John Taylor was H-O-T.

9:11
David Bowie & Arcade Fire?? How cool is THIS?? Oh please, please let this be cool and not suck.

9:28
OK, this is just getting boring now. It's the same performers coming out over & over in different pairings. I'm going to bed.

Posted by Kalisa at 8:51 PM | Permalink | Comments

...so she can forward me every "Warning to women: New Carjacking Method" email that some lameass sends her.

I just answer her back every time with, "OMG THAT TOTALLY HAPPENED TO ME!!!!!!!!"

Posted by Kalisa at 1:26 PM | Permalink | Comments

Even before Hurricane Katrina hit, George Bush had the LOWEST APPPROVAL RATING OF ANY SECOND TERM PRESIDENT IN THE SUMMER FOLLOWING HIS RE-ELECTION, EXCEPT FOR RICHARD NIXON.

We hate to say 'told you so.'

Posted by Kalisa at 9:06 AM | Permalink | Comments

When driving home from dinner with the car windows down, turn up the radio when Quiet Riot comes on and sing "Cum on Feel the Noize" loud enough for his friends to hear.

Posted by Kalisa at 8:02 PM | Permalink | Comments

One of my clients has a big breaking news story tomorrow. I have received no less than 35 emails from my boss today TELLING ME IN MINUTE DETAIL HOW TO DO MY JOB. Which leads me to believe that he is somehow under the impression that I am unable to do my job all on my own.

The RFP (due Friday) that I've been working on ALL FUCKING WEEK is now being "edited" by the Sr. VP. He's decided to take out most of what I wrote ("too specific") and replace it with what HE wrote for the last RFP ("much more vague") which, BTW WE DID NOT GET.

I bought a chocolate chip cookie at lunch to take home to My Kid as a little treat. Yeah, that baby's GONE.

And to top it all off, I think I might have FedEx'ed the USA Today reporter my Fiona Apple CD instead of the one with the client's news release and image on it. Bullocks.

Posted by Kalisa at 3:11 PM | Permalink | Comments

I have a confession to make.

I love to watch the ABC Family network.

It should be called Girly TV At Its Best network.

Syndicated shows, like Gilmore Girls.

Fun movies, like Marissa Winokur in "Beautiful Girl." Chrisma Carpenter in "See Jane Date." "Campus Confidential" about the girls that started the tabloid newspaper at their high school.

Totally cheesy stuff like "7th Heaven" and "From Justin to Kelly."

And then the original series: "Beauty People" which is totally going to have me coloring my hair dark when the weather cools off. And "Wildfire" which has been running all day today.

I love me some weekend TV marathons.

And I'm totally hooked on the teenage-con-working-at-a-horse-farm fashion sense that Kris wore so well in the first five or six episodes: low jeans, big belt, boots, tank top. I can't wait to get me some Old Navy cords that I keep seeing advertised on tv. I actually have a rocking pair of dark brown leather cowboy boots that I bought in Nashville many many years ago when I first moved to Tennessee.

Anyone know where I can get a tailored western-style shirt that snaps up the front?

Posted by Kalisa at 4:07 PM | Permalink | Comments

I am so tired of it all. I'm so tired of everyone having a political opinion on this everywhere I go. I can't even get a manicure without some little half-wit having some opinion on the event.

Your advice to stop watching the coverage came like an early warning system. Three days later I am sick, sick, sick of hearing everyone's personal opinion on the New Orleans mayor.

Today I received an email that Shelley's parents have survived. Somehow, I feel like a chapter is closed for me. Like I really don't need to know anything beyond that. Tonda & Norman were my second parents in high school. I lived with them when I had no where else to go. They were the best, too. Thank whatever god you worship that they've survived. Shook up, yes. But alive and well.

I don't want to debate the politics of New Orleans anymore. I hate that my home in Mississippi was hit the hardest, and yet they're practically off the radar b/c of the madness in New Orleans.

I love the city of New Orleans in a way that a person probably shouldn't feel for a city. A columnist in USA Today wrapped it up for me in his column "Let's Hope the Good Times Roll Again." Even when I was a non-drinker I felt that New Orleans had so much more than "good times" to offer - the history, the art, the architecture, the food, the music...

I don't want to think about the tragedy of New Orleans anymore. I'm grateful that things are improving and things are getting better. I'm tired...so tired of talking about it. Debating it. Everyone trying to one-up everyone else with their personal attachment to it.

My Kid told me that 100 kids from New Orleans are coming to his school. I've emailed his principal to ask is anyone is organizing to collect school supplies for these kids. I'm just trying to focus my brain on helping.

Posted by Kalisa at 6:06 PM | Permalink | Comments

If you haven't made a donation yet, please do so today. It means a lot to me.
Thanks

American Red Cross
Second Harvest
Mercy Corps
Salvation Army

If you're looking for someone on the Mississippi coast, the Sun-Herald has several forums for posting, as well as town-by-town info and photos.

Detailed aerial photograhy of the Mississippi Coast and New Orleans area is available here, but it's hard to identify anything, as all the landmarks are gone.


(I'm going to leave this entry up for a while. Scroll down for current entry.)

Posted by Kalisa at 5:23 PM | Permalink | Comments

This evening I cancelled my bikini wax and My Kid came home early from his friend's house so we could go to dinner with Big Daddy's parents. We were celebrating My Kid's birthday. We went to Amerigo's ("an American restaurant with an Italian flair!") and dad & I fore-went the wine since we were there for the kid and all.

I love my in-laws dearly, but my lord they can work my nerves. My 85-year-old FIL thinks it's funny to harass the waitress. My 81-year-old MIL has surprisingly little table manners left from the days when her husband was a powerful corporate vice president. Tonight she thought pleasant conversation with me at the table would be to point out every fat person in the restaurant and ask me how people let themselves get that way.

It's been a long and harrowing week and I'm just glad I finally made it to the three-day weekend. I enjoyed a nice lunch with my two princess friends this afternoon. Tomorrow I've got a mani & pedi in the morning, lunch with An, and then my bikini wax in the afternoon. I should be looking spiffy and ready to get my head back where it needs to be: in my life, in my city.

Posted by Kalisa at 9:27 PM | Permalink | Comments

File under: If This Doesn't Piss You Off then You're Not Paying Attention

Posted by Kalisa at 10:26 AM | Permalink | Comments

How do you know that a Category 5 hurricane is headed toward one of your major cities, and not start mobilizing relief efforts immediately? Before it hits even. I simply can not comprehend that.

I do blame our federal government. Now you all know that I'm hardly a fan of our president. And I'm not saying that a democrat would have done any better. I am saying that I think his efforts and his attentions are so focused overseas and his pet war that he's just not taking care of his own people at home. The people that elected him.

How can it be A WEEK LATER and Congress is just now passing a relief bill? HOW? I find this completely unacceptable. That should have been done as the storm was coming ashore, and food and help should have been arriving the very next day.

I just don't understand why we weren't better prepared. Didn't we learn ANYTHING from 9-11? What the hell is wrong with our country? With our leaders? How can they be so nonchalant about this? God, these are people's lives they're fucking with.

Posted by Kalisa at 7:30 AM | Permalink | Comments

Thank you all for your kind words and encouragement. I have taken your advice and have decided to not watch anymore coverage for now. There's nothing new in the news anyway. Last night I had a dream that Big Daddy had a heart attack. I called his hotel room in Cleveland at 3 a.m. to make sure he was okay. I think it has something to do with loosing something (someone) important to you.

Today I signed My Kid up for fall soccer and I took a blouse to be altered. And I feel so guilty. I feel selfish and ashamed that my biggest problem today is that the Burger King drive thru gave me their crappy fries intstead of the onion rings I ordered. And today I cried. For the first time, I cried for all that is lost. The places, the people, the history. But not the memories. The storm can wash away it all but it can't take my memories and it can't take my roots. They're implanted way down deep in that sandy soil. Deeper than the ruin. Deeper than the storm surge. It will always be my home and it may look different and every single landmark I knew may be gone but it lives in my heart and I will remember every detail just as it was. Just the way I loved it.

Posted by Kalisa at 2:05 PM | Permalink | Comments

I'm starting to receive some updates from the coast. Several of my high school classmates lost everything. I feel like my entire past has been wiped out.

Posted by Kalisa at 7:12 AM | Permalink | Comments