Since hurricane parties are now bad taste…
I have declared a tp’ing of Max’s blog, this post.
She says her wrists are tired tonight so she put up a two sentence post.
Go there and leave a comment. And be nice.
Restoration
Scanned Image Before Photoshop
After
I’ve been scanning and doing a little restoration on some old photos. I’m still learning loads about what works best, but as you can see this one needs a lot more work. It was overexposed and either the inks have faded or the photo album it was in did something to it, I don’t know.
The thing is though, doing all this brings back old memories. That is me at the age of about six just after having my tonsils removed. I didn’t always look so grumpy. The reason I chose this photo is I want to tell you about that mailbox behind my right shoulder.
I remember being tall enough to open it, but not being tall enough to see inside of that box. It was a magical mailbox to me because every so often people in my family would get presents from that box.
There was a doll I wanted, a beautiful ballerina doll named Dancerella and she had a pink sparkly crown. When you stuck your hand on the crown, this doll would pirouette. I didn’t tell a soul I wanted this thing, not sure why, maybe it was because we just didn’t ask for things. But I wanted that more than I’ve ever wanted anything (material) before or since.
And I was damned sure it would come via that mailbox. So every day for months I would go to the mailbox, open it, walk over to the oak tree nearby and stand on its roots to get the height I needed to see inside. Day after day, I was disappointed. No ballerina doll.
Then my dad got into a horrible car accident. For my mom, five kids and a broken up husband were too much to care for. So my aunts who lived four hours away came in to help the situation. They were taking the oldest three of us. I was sitting on the steps between the two aunts and they were asking me which one I wanted to go live with. I was confused, but I liked the idea that they were fighting over me.
One aunt had five kids. Three of them girls, one my exact age. The other had only two. One girl, and she was younger than I. Spoiled. Somehow that aunt was the one who convinced me to go live with her. On the way there I realized my mistake. The other aunt had kids swinging around on the ceiling fans like monkeys. It was like a fun house. What was I thinking, going with the one who had two spoiled kids?
Maybe I felt that one wanted me more. Aunt Lorica treated little girls like dolls. Her kids were adopted, thus way harder to get. It was her I chose. She would comb my hair and style it different ways. She bought me pretty dresses. She would also clean my ears out every single night. That was torture because she was convinced I had a piece of paper stuck in my ear. She saw something white in there and had this ice pik looking thing she used to try and dig it out. Very painful and she never got anything.
My spoiled cousin had everything. Every doll you could imagine, even some on shelves we were not allowed to touch. Most importantly, she had that Dancerella doll.
When Christmas came around I didn’t think Santa would bring my presents there, so when asked, I would just say I didn’t want anything. Come Christmas day, however, guess what I got?
Dancerella. With a sparkly blue leotard. She was even prettier than my cousin’s. Best of all, she was mine.
About the ear situation. The white thing my aunt was seeing was an infected eardrum. It got to the point where I was going deaf and reading lips (a skill I have to this day). That’s when my aunt took me to the doctor who said my tonsils were causing all the ear problems. I got my tonsils removed and got to move back home with my Dancerella.
My spoiled cousin and I ended up becoming best of friends, like sisters, and I would spend entire summers with them as a teenager. My aunt is still alive and lives down Bayou Lafourche. They’re evacuating right now because of Hurricane Gustav and going to my mom’s house. I sure would like to see them all, but the hurricane is headed toward my mom’s as well. It just won’t be as bad there.
For those of you who know my mom is in the hospital for tests, so far they haven’t found anything and she might be going home tomorrow. She’s feeling much better and sounds good too.
Shoes!
One of Blane’s work buddies and his wife, Carolina, a Brazilian designer, just started a new fashion company, Carolina Pagano.
They’ve just introduced their first line, women’s shoes, but are only selling to retailers at this time. Check out their website and if you like what you see, ask your retailer for Carolina Pagano. I love that name.
The Slide Sonia is my favorite, I’d buy that shoe right now.
Congrats to Byran and Carolina! (I’m so jealous and wish I had a shoe company, dammit I’m slacking)
Projekt Revolution 2008 Set Times
This is from the booklet they gave out at the entrance and not specific to the Dallas show. Keep in mind that show times could change.
Just Blane and I went to this one. Since it was just the two of us, we got gold seats which means they mailed us a package with a couple of metal Linkin Park water bottles, LP bandanas, and a lanyards to wear. The seats were pretty close to the stage and I am getting quite good at sneaking my DSLR into concerts. Haven’t uploaded anything yet, but I’m sure I got at least one decent photo of the hundreds I took.
We couldn’t have asked for better weather. It threatened to pour down rain, but all we got was a cool breeze the entire evening.
This is the first year LP takes this tour to Europe and I understand they sold more tickets to each show there than they did in the States. Maybe we are too spoiled with all the great music that comes around here.
Linkin Park’s performance was just as energetic as last year’s show but the voices were a bit worn as the they hit Dallas late in the tour this time around. Still excellent, but not as flawless as last year.
Let’s Go to Cafe du Monde
When we go to New Orleans we almost always hit the Cafe du Monde for some beignets and cafe au lait (donuts and coffee). It’s open twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year. This last time we went, we didn’t stop because we’d just had dinner and couldn’t fit another bite of anything.
I promised the family I’d make some beignets after we got home when the time was right. Okay, my kitchen is always open, so come on in and grab a chair. Let’s make some French donuts.
You might be able to buy this box mix at your local grocery, or order from their online store .
If not, you can make your own mix by following this link.
I have made them before from frozen bread dough.
Roll out the dough and cut into squares.
Drop the dough into 375 degree oil and flip when golden.
Drain on paper towel then sprinkle with loads of powdered sugar.
Serve with strong drip French roast coffee mixed with warm milk. I find the mix is not as good as the yeast based recipe. But they’ll do.
Gold Blingage
The WOGA gym which trained two recent Olympic Champions in women’s gymnastics is about three miles from my house.
Here are some signs on the door to the gym right now.
Gym owner Valeri Luikin’s daughter, Nastia won the all around gold medal this past week. Four years ago, Carly Patterson who also trained here won that gold. This is the first time two Olympic Champions in women’s gymnastics come from the same gym.
About 10 years ago, a friend of mine suggested I enroll my girls in that gym. I met with the gym owner who I didn’t realize at the time was a gold medalist himself. A very humble and polite guy. There were no gold medals in display cases or big framed photos of him anywhere. Just a regular looking gym with kids flying all over the place.
I loved the gym, but the classes were all filled up. Kurt Thomas was just opening up a gym at the time, so I enrolled my girls there. It was a bad decision as someone at Thomas’ gym embezzled a chunk of money which caused them to shut down the gym without notice. He has since gotten his gym up and running again but we just found another place.
Eventually, the girls hated going to the gym and their dance classes, so I stopped enrolling them. I would have given my eyetooth for that opportunity as a kid, as I was obsessed with the sport. That and ice skating. But I’ve never thought it a good thing to push my dreams and interests on my kids.
Nastia will be competing again tonight, catch that if you can, she is an exquisite gymnast and makes the sport look effortless.
Speaking of gold…
Yesterday Blane Sr. brought home two medals from the NAGA competition (Brazilliian Jiu-Jitsu). A gold and a bronze. This is a ranking event which makes it even cooler.
Yay Blane!!!
Blane Jr. also competed, but didn’t place. What he did do was drop 25 pounds in two or three weeks to get into a certain weight class. I think maybe dropping so much weight so quickly is not such a good thing, but he’s done that before and placed. Just not his day, I guess.
Hit the Lights
It’s been a rough two days as the girls have had their wisdom teeth removed on Monday. Both are doing well now.
They don’t pull them under general anesthesia, but use what is called waking anesthesia. Intravenous Demerol (opiate based pain medicine) and Versed (tranquilizer) along with a local anesthetic such as Novocaine. They’re awake during the entire proceedure, eliminating the need for intubation and a breathing machine.
Sweetpea had hers removed first since she had four of them. It took less than thirty minutes for her. Spanky went next and it took less than ten minutes since hers were just two uppers.
By the time they let me go back there to help wake them up, Sweetpea was bouncing off the walls. I promised not to tell anyone whether or not she had been crying for me. She also got the new nickname of Amy Winehouse:
Sweetpea: Mom. My entire face is numb. After we leave here, you have to take me to get my lip pierced.
Me: You’re not getting your lip pierced.
Sweetpea: What? This is the best time, I can’t feel anything. Let’s go.
Me: Sit down. You’re not getting your lip pierced.
Sweetpea: (rapid fire speech) I have a friend who has all the stuff. I’m going to call him to come over tonight and do it. If you let me get my lip pierced, I ~swear~ when I get my tattoos they won’t show.
Me: Tattoos?! No. Hush all that nonsense.
Sweetpea: F*%k that. I’ve been wanting my lip pierced since I’m 12 years old. Gotdamn. This f*%king sucks.
Me: Sweetpea, you’re embarrassing me, the nurses can hear you. Where did you learn how to talk like that?
Sweetpea: You.
Blane’s there too and he’s about to lose his mind hearing all this. I go see about Spanky, coming out just now.
—–
They drag Spanky down the hallway toward her little recovery room. Her feet aren’t touching the ground and her eyes slowly crawl the the outer limits of the sockets. She looks like she’s been lobotomized and I have a hard time holding back an explosion of tears. But I do. It’s hard, my breathing skips as if I’d been crying.
I guess Sweetpea must have been like that at first too, but they didn’t let me see her until a lot of what she had wore off. Sweetpea, (aka Amy Winehouse) is able to walk now. She bursts into Spanky’s room:
Sweetpea: Mah, Dad says he’s moving us to Europe for two years and I won’t have a cell phone or a computer.
Me: Blane!
Poor Spanky keeps crying and doesn’t want to wake up:
Me: Spanky, wake up so we can go home.
It takes her a full minute to complete just one sentence.
Spanky: I. Want. My. Thinking… Back.
Me: Wake up and you’ll be able to think.
Spanky: I don’t like this.
Winehouse, sprawled out in the chair has advice.
Sweetpea: (Slurred) You better never smoke pot, Spanky.
Me: (to Sweetpea) Okay, Amy Winehouse.
Sweetpea: Why you call me that?
Spanky: I. Can’t. Think. (crying like a little girl)
It seemed as if she was falling even deeper into netherland as the time went by. I think she might have been a little shocky. The doctor passed by, and when he saw how pale she was, he lowered her head and looked panicked. I told him she is normally really pale, but suggested a little blood pressure check (duh).
Then came vomitus eruptus. I had the trash can to catch it as soon as she sprung up.
Spanky: How’d you know I was gonna hurl?
Me: Mammas know everything.
Sweetpea: They do?
Me: Hell yeah.
Sweetpea: (whisper) Got-damn.
——
Whatever was in Spank’s stomach must have been what was making her so lethargic. She was wide awake after that and we got to go home. That quick.
The next two days was pretty much me slaving over the two girls. Administering a million pills, filling ice paks, gettting them this and that… They wouldn’t sleep and just in case, I’d bought them some Magic Marker posters to color.
They kept saying “I forgot how fun it was to color…”
Sweetpea worked on her sketch of Cobain.
Spanky worked on her plushies for an anime festival she’s going to at the end of this month.
After about the second day, Spanky admitted, “I love playing the invalid.”
Box of Wisdoms
A week from today Spanky and Sweetpea will have their wisdom teeth removed. It seems senseless to remove teeth that haven’t even emerged, but those things are known to make teeth crooked and we don’t want that since it cost a fortune to get them straight with braces.
I brought them today for the pre-op xrays and one of Sweetpea’s friends came with us. The friend was saying she had hers removed and that she had six of them. Four at the top, two at the bottom. I didn’t believe her, thought she was just a kid who doesn’t know each tooth has a name and her dentist went hog-wild with extractions. At $375 a tooth, what’s the incentive for dentists to encourage patients to keep their teeth?
So the girls have their xrays and the dentist says Spanky is more evolved than the rest of us because she only has two wisdom teeth. The two at the bottom never formed.
I think back to what Sweetpea’s friend said and imagine her walking out of there with her knuckles dragging the ground.
When we get home I tell Blane about it and he boasts about only having had three himself.
I remember those things. We got them out at the same time when we were in our early twenties. Mine had all emerged and I was quite proud of that. His were impacted (to a nurse that is an ugly word, ask one). I was a nurse at the time and glad the word “impacted” had nothing to do with my teeth. The dentist sent us home with our wisdoms in a little plastic box. I only had two removed because I’m using the bottom ones due to a whack dentist who removed two molars when I was a kid. Damn good thing I had my spares.
So these teeth in a box, Blane’s looked like creepy witch hats, the roots all gnarled and hillbillyish. Mine were straight and textbookish. I told him I would make a voodoo necklace with them and we’d live happily ever after.
But I didn’t. In fact, I ran across them a couple of months ago when I flooded the bathroom. I’d left the sink plugged and the tap on, and when I came back the water had run down the countertops into every single drawer in there before crashing down to the floor into a one inch catastrophe. In one of those drawers was a couple of plastic boxes, floating in the water.
At first I threw them in the trash. Then I dug them back out. I thought maybe I’d at least show the kids what that looks like. Like you do when you find some animal bones in the woods.
I’m not going to show them before they have theirs removed, though. They have no idea how big those things are. That they have long roots.
Oh, and yeah, I told Spanky not to let it get to her head that she was more evolved than the rest of us in this family. She just groaned and mentioned how this was just so typical, she was the “cheap kid” who hardly ever spends money, that her extractions will cost half of what Sweetpea’s will.
True, but she promises to get even with college costs.
Twins!
Two big cheers for my friend Sophia and her husband Christos of Greece on the birth of twin girls. She had them on July 25th and they each weighed about four and a half pounds.
I am still awaiting more details and photos, but just wanted to let you all know the wonderful news. Sophia doesn’t have a blog but used to leave a lot of comments here before she was put on strict bedrest.
Congratulations again to Sophia and Christos.
