always somethin'

Now that I have my Macbook Pro, I want a camera. I specifically opted for the cheaper Macbook Pro because 1) I travel a lot and don't want to lug around a large laptop 2) I technically own decent little monitor I used on my PC when working at a desk 3) I want other stuff too. So I want to use the money I "saved" toward a Canon EOS T1i. Even though the T2i is even better, and $200 more, I think I want to put THAT $200 in savings toward the purchase of Photoshop CS5 Student/Teacher edition that normally sells for $700, which is a savings of $500. Y'all didn't know I was a student/teacher? Well, I am. My name is Carl and I am 60 years old. I am just saving money right and left over here with all my rationalizations. I love having a woman's brain. We are so clever. I have also rationalized that with my mad skills I can pay off this camera in no time. So be prepared for up close candids of boys dressed up like girls, little boy birthday parties, lizards, pirates, brand new babies, little girl parties, pregnant ladies, road trips, and more. I am hoping to get a few takers, set up a few shoots and maybe sell a few prints, create a little site and pay her off in no time. Then I can save more money by investing that money in something else just as amazing and glorious and life changing and fun. In the mean time, brace yourself for what is to come.

another dream

Sometimes when I look back at these entries I feel like an idiot. Sometimes I sound so dumb. I misspell words. I complain. I don't use correct grammar. I am sarcastic. Not really all that funny. There are times that I do crack myself up, but I get me. I can read back with an outsiders perspective and I don't make a lick of sense. I am completely contradictory and fairly predictable. There is no literary genius here. It seems like oftentimes my clever (to me) observations that seemed so hilarious while trying to fall asleep, fizzle out when I sit here trying to type it all in. If anything, at this point, I want this to become a place of disciplined writing. A place where I come daily, state something and hit publish. I want the regimen of coming and sitting and writing and thinking and sharing and venting and creating, something. I sit here today and I think, "I got nuthin'". It seems like I edit my comments and statements. I can only print the good stuff, not the bad. I don't want to be that way. Here's my stream of consciousness attempt at being raw:

My hair needs coloring. Badly. I am too ADHD to go and get it done. I could barely sit through my haircut the other day. There, I said it. I can't sit through a haircut. The poor girl at Van Michael looked so offended when I told her not to style it. I really didn't even want her to blow it dry because I wanted to stand up and move around and get in my car and drive away. I could not sit in that chair another second and felt like that black cape around my neck was strangling me. So there is something bad. Also I don't valet when I go there. I don't want some sweaty stinky boy in my car. So I always park at Whole Foods, go in and buy a Arden's Garden juice and then go to the hair appt. There is another bad thing. But those boys/men have been standing out in the hot sun all day and you know they are sweaty and they have to be stinky. Blech.

But I digress.

I had a dream a couple of nights ago. I think you should always write down dreams and because this one needs to be written down and because I need to create an entry, here it goes:

My sister and I are swimming in a lake. I think the whole family was there too, including her family and my parents. We were all swimming and splashing and playing on the dock. We would run and jump off the dock. It was very solid and big. There was a long wooden walkway out to the dock. The water was very still and smooth like glass. My grandfather appeared in the dream, Papa Davis. He was wearing jeans rolled up just above his ankles. He ran across the dock, jumped out and landed on the water. He began running and skipping and dancing across the water, kicking up his knees and leaning over and slapping the water with his hands and tossing fingerfuls of water all around him. He was laughing and shouting and enjoying every second of this. Then he said to us with arms outstretched, "IT'S THIS EASY! I'VE BEEN ON THE OTHER SIDE. I CAME TO SHOW YOU THAT IT IS THIS EASY!!! SO SIMPLE. NOT HARD AT ALL. SO EASY. THIS EASY. YOUR FAITH IS EVERYTHING". His declaration was so profound to us in the dream and resonates with me still. I still see his brown ankles dancing above the water. I see his large hands splashing the water and hear his elated cry of excitement as he walked on water. He didn't elaborate. That was the end of the dream. Yet, even now I hear his voice in my head telling me that my faith is everything. I know what he was telling me. My God is as big as my faith says He is. He asks me almost every day if I trust Him. If my dreams take years, do I trust him. My faith answers, "Yes". He can only show up and work in the space that I provide for Him. So what can I say, other than, "One, two, three..."?

Happy Birthday Catherine

This stunning face makes my heart hurt I love it so much. She turns 13 today. 13 years of knowing her and watching her grow up. She is such a leader and a boss and a "mom" and a grown-up and so strong and resilient. She can cook and clean and is smart. She is just like my sister. She is the oldest. I am the youngest. I like to hang out with her because she has that oldest child personality and can take charge.

I have told all this before, but I will never forget the day she was born. It was by far the most exciting day of my life. I don't get that excited any more. It was like every Christmas morning I have ever experienced, every birthday, every good gift, all rolled into one. Her. I knew that she was a girl, even though they had decided not to find out and bought Baby Dior without hesitation. I remember buying those first outfits and onesies and little tiny things and starring at them and laying them out and smelling them. I paid $20 for $4 in fast food and drove off and forgot my change. I can't even talk about the labor and delivery part, but when I saw that face, I never knew my heart could love so much. She had deep red lips (as seen above). Even the nurses told us how beautiful she was and I know they see all kinds. I will never forget the first time she locked eyes with me and smiled back at me. I will never forget her belly laughing so hard at herself or something silly we had done. We'd do it all over and over to watch her laugh so hard, she would have tears coming down her face and would topple over from her newly achieved seated position.

I love this child to bits. She is so strong, so amazing. I love watching her grow. She is artistic and creative and observant and funny and 13 years old.

Everyone deserves a song on their birthday. This is hers:

I GOT IT!!!

five years in the wanting...she is mine and i am hers. we are gonna create all sorts of things together:

beautiful pictures of sweet faces

exotic trips to foreign places

 blogs and stories and journals and songs

she is right where she belongs

http://www.microcenter.com/

a two year old boy with a bored big sister

Nathaniel the Pirate Dressed Up Like a Girl?

33

i turned 30 in the bethel prayer hut in mozambique. i turned 31 in zutphen, holland with tamara and mirjam taking me out for fries with mayo. i turned 32 back in mozambique, but this time in my little house, yards away from the bethel prayer hut, playing uno with manuel. and i turned 33, in my own bed, in my own house, in my little city, in my home State. i worked saturday night and actually got off a little early. i skipped to my car, exhausted but happy to be going home. i could hardly sleep, excited about the big day and all that i had planned. not really excited to be turning 33 or even having a day that is mine, but having a day with my sister...and an hour with christine!
i had bought a  gogo necklace at fernandina but would not even open it up and take it out of the box until the big event. i woke up early, dressed up a little in my new jcrew finds and an old pair of skinny jeans and a pink silk frilly tank i actually bought at banana republic for a 20-something birthday way back when. (that party with jerkface at two uban licks, remember?) anyway, i took out my little gogo necklace and slipped it around my neck. new, tiny, simple, coastal inspired jewelry feels good. it is a shark vertebrae.
i grabbed two hardbacks (recent library finds) and my empty bag of starbucks french roast and rushed out the door. i pulled into starbucks just before the mad rush of churchgoers. i spied a french press on sale for $14.99. i have my individual press, but am finding that the automatic drip is pure rubbish and i can no longer tolerate it. i will put my kettle to work. i hand over my empty bag and get my free cup of coffee, pay for the press and find four lovely large leather chairs awaiting me. i pick one in the corner, plop down, take out a Ziplock of blueberries and my hardback covered in thin plastic and begin to read. i keep eyeing the guy next to me with his big fat, scattered Sunday paper, coupons discarded on the floor. eventually he gets up and walks away. i lean over and grab the coupons and go through them like a scavenger, not even looking around to see if anyone is watching me, i finally just dump the whole stack in my bag. i figure if i am going to pillage, i may as well just take it all and not leave any evidence.
i escaped into my book for 30 minutes or more. then large groups kept coming to my quartet of chairs and since i was taking up one and there were always perfect pairings of 4 of them, they just looked at me annoyed and walked away. a crowded starbucks. 4 comfy chairs. me in one. stolen coupons concealed. blueberries from home. nobody sat with me. after a while i felt sorry for the groups of 4 in all their codependency and i got up. i gathered my snacks and my loot and left. i met my sister in the nordstrom rack parking lot.

even though it was just 10:30 it was hot as blue blazes already. i decided to skip nordstrom and head straight to the good stuff. the goodwill stuff that is. i LOVE the book section at the goodwill store. there are two goodwills that i frequent and head straight to the book section. there, you can ALWAYS find 1) the world is flat by that Jewish guy 2) any or all emily giffin books, except for the latest one- i give it another two weeks 3) southern living cookbooks 4) children's classics 5) "beach reads" from the previous year 6) eudora welty, clyde edgerton, flannery o'conner, pat conroy and whatever else junior leaguer's have in their collection 7) a sprinkling of current NYT bestsellers. these are the jackpot finds and you score extra points when you fnd one. hardbacks are $2.00. we hit up the one on roswell and carla went nuts, bending over with her purses hanging down to the floor, lookin' and grabbin' like it was the wedding gown sale at filene's basement. i sat back and watched and smiled. i had told her it was good. we found this fun Fairie Fashion book for Catherine.

i got a Southern Living Cookbook. carla recommended it as one of her favorites and says it is full of cooking techniques and ways to prepare various foods. i thought it would be educational and i have a lot to learn in that area and it will make the kitchen look like somebody knows what they are doing in there, if anyone ever comes over the evaluate.

by the time we finally got out of there, i was famished. i love brunch and that was what i wanted. eggs with spinach and avocado, english muffins toasted. we went over to the highlands to american roadhouse. the ambiance is no good. their vegetables are not very good. but their breakfasts are huge and free on your birthday. they are also free on your anniversary. mine is coming up soon. i don't think i should be penalized for being single.  i think i will take betty to lunch on my anniversary (printable coupons are sent to your email address). we then waddled around the highlands full and hot as blue blazes still!! it seemed like every store we went in had no air-conditioning. i walked around these little boutiques constantly wiping my top lip with the back of my hand and really couldn't concentrate on shopping for my fear of buckling my knees and passing out. after our feeble attempt at shopping, we went to Alon's for bread. we bought 3 loaves of fresh from the oven heaven. i wanted a jar of quince paste, but am on this kick of only buying stuff i need, not want. the gogo necklace was kind of an exception to the rule, but lovely jewelry is sort of a necessity.

then we went here! dr. bombay's underwater tea party. we had Tea for Two.

they didn't have their air conditioning on either and it was hot hot and there was no way i could drink hot tea, so we asked for iced tea instead. she gave us a whole huge china pitcher full of cold iced green tea. it was incredibly good. carla and i both took a sip at the same time, both then looked at each other wide-eyed and said, "yummmm". the two tiered platter of cupcakes, brownies and scones was way more than enough for two. i found a coupon at "the green half" that made a $20 gift certificate, $10. dr. bombays is located on mcclendon near the flying biscuit. it is a fun place. the service was so-so and the desserts are not to die for, but the tea was delish and the atmosphere is fun and inviting. it would be a fun place to go and journal and sit and sip. they have ice cream too. i will have to go back and sample it for reviewing purposes only.

after our sugar overdoses at dr. bombays, we hit up the Nearly New. all books were 75% off. i got an award winning paperback that from perusing the front and back covers, simply looked good. i look forward to finding out. we were so close to all that fun howell mill design district stuff that we had to at least hit up Ballard Designs. so we did. they had a huge vintage map of africa. it is probably 3 ft x 4 ft. pale colors. lovely. the continent speaks to me. i love it. i stood and stared. it kind of took my breath away a little. i found it funny that a mass produced $300 piece of art could make me feel a certain way. it moved me. and i found myself standing in ballard's, relishing the air-conditioning, staring at a map, asking her why she moves me so. africa beckons me. even from ballard's. bizarre.

carla had never been to IKEA and everyone has to go at least once. christine met us there. we walked through the maze of cheap imported goods and all left with one of these:

i have a whole bag of loose tea that Aunt Phylis sent a few years ago.  wonder if that stuff goes bad? Probably not. so now I have an infuser and Carla does too and so does Christine. we can have our own proper tea party now. we said goodbye to Christine in the IKEA parking lot and as i drove Carla back up to Buckhead, i didn't want the day of shopping and laughing and simply being together to end. for the first time in ages i began to feel a little homesick. even though i was at home. i began to miss my sister a whole lot, even though she was sitting there right beside me. i made her go to Jason's Deli and eat a salad with me. she told me about the day i was born. i have heard the story 32 times now. how it was hot. how it rained. how i was jaundice. how i cried. how elvis died 15 days later.

she drove away. and then just like on august 1st, 1977, i cried, and then it rained.