The Bag Meme

Alice, over at Mindless Rambling of a 26 Year Old, tagged me with a bag meme. Being the cooperative sort that I am, I am playing along. (Jenners, I promise I'll do that book meme soon, too -- it's just that, well, that one takes so much more thought than this one!)

Here are the rules:

1. Post a picture of whatever bag you are carrying as of late. No, you can't go into your closet and pull out your favorite purse! We want to know what you carried today or the last time you left the house.

2. List how much it cost. And this is not to judge. This is for entertainment purposes only. So spill it. And if there is a story to go along with how you obtained it, we’d love to hear it!

3. Tag some chicks. And link back to this post so people know why the heck you’re showing everyone your bag.

So here is a photo of my current bag. Like Bella and Gwen, I tend to use the same one every day until it wears out, then get a new one. None of that changing my bag daily or weekly to match my shoes or outfit sort of thing. (No time for that!) It's getting a little dinged up.



This bag was free to me; I have no idea how much my mother in law paid for it, but she gave it to me as a birthday gift just as my prior bag wore out, so I was happy and grateful and have carried it since then. It is black leather, sturdy, reasonably good looking, and a little larger than I really need, but comfortable to carry, and I like it.

It wasn't in the rules, but everyone who is playing this game seems to be posting a photo of the contents. Since I'm not shy, I'll play along with that game, too. Here is a photo of the contents of the bag:



Clockwise spiral from top left:

1. Michael's receipt from purchase of supplies for Girl Scout meeting Monday night.

2. Claritin, Aspirin, Kleenex, because you never know when you might need these things. Especially the Kleenex, when you have kids.

3. Mints, regular and chocolate.

4. Pens. I usually have many more than two, but I just cleaned out my bag over the weekend.

5. Emergency grooming needs -- two liptsticks, nail clippers, nail file. I usually have a comb in here, too; must have left it at the office.

6. Lawyer supplies -- post it notes (the white-ish looking blob next to the pens) and paperclips in various styles and sizes.

7. Various punch cards / membership cards / insurance cards, etc, kept in inside pocket for occasional use. The one on top is for the "Gold Bar Espresso" coffee house I've mentioned before. They make the best coffee in town. I am halfway to a free latte there. Woo hoo!

8. Memory stick inside case, for transporting important computer files from office to home and/or on vacation and/or for emergency use.

9. Keys. It looks like a lot of keys, but I don't have any on there that aren't regularly used. There are keys for my car, office (main building door and my office door), mailbox (main door and my box key), my husband's car (ignition and gas), bike lock, my house, and my friend's house. She has Multiple Sclerosis, and sometimes needs me to stop by and help her with this or that. Me having a key makes it easier for her so she doesn't have to get up to answer the door.

10. Business checkbook and wallet containing business credit and merchant cards, as well as business cards and my lucky $2 bill.

11. Cell phone.

12. Personal wallet containing personal credit and merchant cards, and (rarely) small amounts of cash or coins for the parking meter.

Ok, so there you have it. Everything you ever wanted to know, and then some, about my bag.

I'm not going to specifically tag anyone else, though. If you are reading this blog and you haven't already been tagged, consider yourself tagged! Or not. Your choice, really.
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Random Photo Meme (Mardi Gras with My Aunt Lou)

Nan, at "All the Good Names Were Taken" has tagged me with a "Random Photo Meme." Here are the rules:

1. Go to the 4th folder in your computer where you store your pictures.

2. Pick the 4th picture in that folder.

3. Explain the picture.

4. Tag 4 people to do the same.

This is a photo of one of the floats in one of the many Mardi Gras parades I attended during my 2007 visit to New Orleans -- my very first Mardi Gras:





It might surprise you to learn that it was my very first Mardi Gras, given that my Aunt Louisiana ("Aunt Lou") (not her real name) has lived in New Orleans for my entire life. She lives on the second floor of one of those huge old three story houses that has been converted to three condominiums (each with two to three bedrooms and two bathrooms -- I mean, seriously, those old houses initially were far bigger than anyone really needed!) about two blocks from the main parade route down St. Charles Avenue. She has attended just about every Mardi Gras parade along that parade route every year for well over 40 years.

My cousin lives downstairs in the same converted house / condominium. (He bought it after he graduated from college, when the folks downstairs conveniently sold it). He and his wife and kids, along with various friends and their families who descend upon them every year, also have attended every parade along that route every year, for as long as they can remember. Most years they even ride a float in one or more of the parades, handing out beads and trinkets and cups and stuffed animals ("throws") along the way.

My Aunt Lou has been begging /nagging me to come visit her in New Orleans for Mardi Gras since I was a first-year college student. So why did I never go before February 2007? Why didn't I go when I was a young and wild college student? That's crazy, right?

Well, when I was in college, Mardi Gras was always a week or two before mid-term exams, or occasionally right in the middle of them, so I never felt that I could miss that week of school. Plus, I have to say I wasn't entirely sure it was a good plan to visit my Dad's sister for a week of drunken revelry -- I was a little afraid of what stories might be told at family events after that. Although I have to say, looking back, that was silly. My Aunt Lou is not one to tell gossipy tales - she enjoys her Mardi Gras visitors too much and she wants them to feel comfortable coming back, so I've never, in all the years I've known her, heard a bad word said about any of her Mardi Gras visitors. She is, instead, always the gracious hostess, welcoming and kind, and later telling flattering tales of the beautiful coat guest x had, and the wonderful conversations she had with guest y, and the awesome dinner she and guest z enjoyed, and how much fun they all had at the parades. Face it, I'm a nut job for not going to Mardi Gras much sooner.

But I never went during college, and after I moved to Arizona, it just seemed like a mighty long way to go for a parade, so the years went by and I just didn't go.

But my Aunt Lou is not to be disobeyed or ignored. When she wants something, she eventually makes it happen. In this case, she really went to extreme measures to get me to come to Mardi Gras.

Ok, I'm not really that self-centered. The thing that happened was not really about me at all, but she and I like to pretend it was, because it makes it more tolerable somehow.

First, a little background. My Aunt Lou used to smoke cigarettes. She smoked for about 20 years. Then, about 20 years ago, she got lung cancer and had to have a lung removed. Her husband (my uncle) was extremely supportive and really helped her out with the chemo treatments and adjusting to only having one lung, and with quitting smoking. He had smoked for years, as well, so they both quit smoking. Sadly, he eventually died of emphysema.

After the surgery and chemo, my Aunt Lou's lung cancer went into remission. She never smoked again, and she faithfully got her screening x-rays for the next 18 or so years, and they always told her everything looked fine.

Then, in August 2005, Hurricane Katrina slammed into New Orleans. My Aunt Lou left her beloved New Orleans ahead of the storm, along with the rest of the folks who had enough common sense and enough money to get the heck out of there. She went to Houston and stayed with some relatives, for what she initially thought would be a few days or a week.

But after the storm, New Orleans was a flooded, destroyed mess, and it took months for things to get cleaned up enough that people could return to their homes. My Aunt Lou had to stay with the relatives in Houston for over three months. By the time she was allowed to return to her home, it was January 2006.

My Aunt Lou lives near the Garden District, one of the few places in New Orleans that isn't below sea level, so her home was not flooded. Nor was it blown away or severely damaged by the storm. She was one of the lucky ones in that regard. Nevertheless, she spent several months dealing with assessing and repairing the water and storm damage to the house and replacing appliances. The stove, washer, dryer, toaster, televisions, and just about anything else in the house that had been plugged in had all been ruined -- blown out by the electrical surge that occurred when the New Orleans power company restored power after a couple of months. She wisely declined to open the refrigerator because all the food had been in there rotting for over three months while the power was out. She simply hired some folks to haul it to the dump and bought a new one. And of course, there was Mardi Gras in 2006, too. That couldn't be ignored either, now could it? It would be an understatement to say that she had her hands full.

Hurrican Katrina had destroyed New Orleans just a couple of weeks before Aunt Lou's usual yearly screening x-ray in 2005. By the time she had returned to town and resolved all of the house issues, it was mid-2006, so she figured she would just wait until the next scheduled x-ray in September 2006. After all, the x-rays had been "clean" for 18 or so years, so she figured she was safe.

She wasn't.

When she went for her screening x-ray that fall, they found a lump. One that had "grown a lot since the last time."

"What do you mean 'since the last time'?" she asked.

"Oh, there was a very tiny sort of a spot when you were in two years ago, that we figured we should just watch to see if it was a lump, or nothing at all."

No one had mentioned this "spot" to her before. The lung cancer had returned.

So, my Aunt Lou had to have half of her remaining lung removed, and undergo months of chemotherapy again. Only this time, her faithful, wonderful, and supportive husband was no longer alive to assist her.

She rallied. She called in all her closest friends and family members to assist her by taking turns staying with her during each round of chemotherapy, which really leaves a person weak and helpless for a few days to a week. My cousin and his wife of course helped tremendously and often during the entire course of her treatment, but she felt it would be unfair to dump all of the burden on them just because they live downstairs, so she very graciously asked the rest of the family to chip in where they could. I volunteered to assist for one of the chemo sessions and flew to New Orleans in February 2007. The idea was that I would drive her to and from the chemo appointment, and then would stick around for a week or so afterwards to assist with anything at all that she might need -- shopping, cooking, cleaning, bringing her food or water, even helping her to and from the bathroom if necessary.

But when we went to the pre-chemo screening appointment, there was a minor problem and her doctor said she must wait a couple of weeks before she could undergo that round of chemo. So, instead of needing to play Florence Nightingale, I got to play with my Aunt Lou and my cousin and his family. We had a blast.

My Aunt Lou took me to see some sights in New Orleans. She showed me the areas where the rebuilding was coming along nicely, and we drove through some areas that were still devastated. We wandered through the French Market and had coffee and beignets at Cafe du Monde. We walked over to Jackson Square and visited the St. Louis Cathedral. We dined at an obscure sandwich shop that served the best "Po' Boy" I've ever had. We visited friends and relatives in town. We shopped and chatted and rented movies and had a grand old time. I've always loved my Aunt Lou. She is kind, thoughtful, smart, beautiful, and has a good sense of humor. I really enjoyed spending that time with her.

And in the afternoons and evenings, she required me to attend every single Mardi Gras Parade every day, for the entire week. She encouraged/required me to buy a Margarita from the booth at the end of her street (where her street intersects with the parade route). In her words, "They are huge, delicious, and it's a fundraiser for my Grandkids' school." Only in New Orleans at Mardi Gras will you find a Catholic school selling Margaritas to raise money.... and Aunt Lou was right, they were huge and delicious, and only $5. What a deal!

The whole experience was extremely fun from a drunken reveler perspective, and quite an interesting experience from a people-watching and cultural anthropology sort of perspective. I will be forever grateful that my Aunt Lou required me to visit New Orleans during Mardi Gras, even though I wish she hadn't taken such extreme measures to accomplish that particular goal. Really, we all would have been much happier without the lung cancer.

I'll tell you more about the parades and the culture that has sprung up around them another time; it really was quite fascinating. But this post is getting too long already, and I have yet to complete my required tagging.

I will tell you, before I tag, that my Aunt Lou completed her course of chemo and it appears that the lung cancer has been beaten into submission, or at least remission, once again. And it is truly amazing how well the human body adapts. She won't be running any marathons, and she gets a bit winded going up stairs, but she is managing reasonably well even with only half of one lung remaining in her body. And I am quite sure that, even if hell and high water comes to New Orleans again, she will never miss another scheduled screening x-ray.

I tag:

1. Candy, at Candy's Daily Dandy
2. Kim Ayres, at Ramblings of the Bearded One
3. Michelle H., at The Surly Writer
4. Moe Berg, at Simon Metz

Looking forward to your photos and stories.

The (Not-So-)Sexy Six Random Things Meme

Skyler’s Dad over at Some Days It’s Not Worth Chewing Through the Leather Straps tagged me for a meme – the "sexy six" meme. I'm not sure where the "sexy" part comes in, since all it seems to ask for is six "random" things about me. Do you think Sandra Bullock is sexy? Because if so, then I'm going to consider that I've satisfied the "sexy" part of the meme, too. Otherwise, I'm just going to pretend it didn't exist.

In any event, I’m happy to play along and post 6 random things about me, in case you are actually interested and didn’t get enough random things with the "Honest Scrap" award and the prior "Six Random Things" meme. But, as I often do, I’m going to skip the part where I’m supposed to tag 6 more folks to play along, since I am never sure whether folks want to be bothered with these meme things or not. On the other hand, I don’t want to stop you from playing if you like, so if you want some blog fodder, consider yourself tagged!

Here are six random things about me:

1. I have a half-inch scar on my right leg from when I was about 8 years old and my class took a field trip to Silver Springs in Florida. I was (ignoring the posted signs and the direct instructions from the chaperones not to climb on things and) walking along the edge of an old row boat that was sitting there, for display purposes only, at the side of one of the paths. I slipped and fell, and a rusty nail pulled a big chunk of my shin flesh off on my way down, leaving a pretty deep hole in my leg. Funny thing was, it didn’t even hurt.... until I looked at it and saw the bloody hole. Then I started screaming. One of those kid-with-open-mouth-and-eyes-pinched-shut-wait-for-it-here-it-comes-wait-wait-wait-it’s-going-to-be-loud kind of screams. I had to miss the glass-bottom boat tour and go to the infirmary instead, where I refused to allow stitches and insisted that a bandage would do, which is why I still have a large scar to remind me of the fun.

2. I love to bake, and I am good at it. My cakes are beautiful *and* delicious. Not like those disasters over at Cake Wrecks.

3. I am a terrible cook.

4. I occasionally teach a class for students who want to improve their scores on the Law School Admissions Test ("LSAT"). My students have told me I look like Sandra Bullock. I find it oddly appropriate (accurate or not) that they would compare me to the star of the 1994 movie "Speed," given my prior job driving a bus and my penchant for driving fast.

5. When I was in law school, I was a student member of the admissions committee for two years. One of those years, the committee selected for admission to the law school a man who had just been released from prison, after serving his sentence for murder. (It was an interesting, and very contentious, committee meeting...)

6. I have studied Spanish, French, Italian, and Japanese. Japanese was the easiest to learn to speak. You pronounce the words just as they are written (based on the sounds represented by the Japanese syllabaries – I never did learn to read / write the "kanji" or word characters), and you can actually follow the grammatical rules. There are only three irregular verbs. I loved it.

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On the Bus - a Blogger Tale

That Damn Expat tagged me for a story meme. I guess she thought I was too critical of Mr. Cunningham's Pulitzer Prize winning literary effort and perhaps ought to see just how difficult it is to write a good story.

The basics of the game are that one person starts a story, tags the next who adds to it and tags another. The goal is to keep it going until the story just doesn't make any sense any more. Your job is to tag at least one person who continues the story. Here is the complete set of instructions (from Splotchy, who originated this meme). I am adding a rule, though, as a condition of my participation. You are not required to tag more than 5 people. If you tag 5 and they all wimp out on you, hey you tried and the meme fairies can haunt them, not you!

And here is the story:

The bus was more crowded than usual. It was bitterly cold outside, and I hadn't prepared for it. I noticed that a fair number of the riders were dressed curiously. As I glanced around, I stretched my feet and kicked up against a large, heavy cardboard box laying under the seat in front of me. (Splotchy)

I hunched down to see what it was, but as I did, the bus violently veered to left. I was thrown up against a heavyset Asian woman with blond hair. I pardoned myself, but she faced forward with no reply. Just then, a man wearing a jumpsuit of silver and gold stood up at the front of the bus. He was holding a megaphone and a box of graham crackers. He held the megaphone up to his face and began to speak... (Some Guy)

"Ladies and Gentlemen...please do not be afraid! I am here to help you" he said in a mighty booming voice. As he began to step towards me I felt a hand creep its way around my throat and all of a sudden I was pressed against the mighty bosom of the Asian woman as she she hauled me to my feet. She began to back away from the costumed crusader all the while holding me, feet dangling in the air. I panicked and my eyes searched the bus, hoping to connect with someone, anyone who would be able to help me. My eyes met those of the hero in gold and just as I began to gasp for air he yelled... ( ~E)

„Put her down and no one gets hurt,“ he yelled at the Asian woman. All the passengers turned to see what was going on and, as they did, I noticed they were more panicked than I was. A small bespectacled man closest to us hissed at my captor and said in a low voice „Take me, just don't hurt her.“ My fear gave way to curiosity. Who were all these people, and why were they so concerned for my well being? The Asian blonde's back was now pressed against the back of the bus, and she increased her grip on me as the megaphone man crept slowly towards us. As he passed through the bus people started getting up, and now they formed a small army behind him. He raised the box of graham crackers above his head and put his lips to the megaphone... (That Damn Expat)

The Asian lady's grip tightened around my neck and I could not breathe at all. "Put her down," said the man in gold again, into the megaphone, "she is not the one you seek." I couldn't figure out why he needed the megaphone. He was less than fifteen feet from the Asian lady who was slowly choking the life out of me. "Put her down, Ariella, she's not the one," he said again, louder, through the megaphone. The grip on my throat tightened more and I desperately tried to pry Ariella's (Ariella? Was my captor named after a Disney princess?) hands from around my throat. She responded with an even tighter grip. I went limp. Ariella strained forward, glaring at the man in gold and asked, "What did you say?" "SHE IS NOT THE ONE YOU SEEK!" the man in gold screamed into the megaphone, dragging me back from the brink of unconsiousness. "Eh? She's not? Why didn't you say so to begin with?" said the woman, as she loosened her grip around my throat. I gasped for air. My mouth, nose, and throat filled with the dank air of the bus, the Asian lady's overbearing, spicy perfume, and the ripe odor of weeks-old sweat from the disheveled and dirty man who sat in the seat next to where we stood, grinning toothlessly at the scene before him. Apparently, he was not scared. Perhaps he was not even sane. He was wearing a tattered and stained overcoat that once had been grey, a dirty white wool sweater, torn blue jeans, and what looked like brand new bright red Converse sneakers encrusted in rhinestones. He reached out his bony hand .... (LegalMist)

I tag Sausage Mechanic, Ms. Florida Transplant, and (in an attempt to send this overseas to Scotland), Kim Ayres, whose blog I have read for quite some time but who probably doesn't know who the heck I am. No matter, he's a good story teller, and I hope he will take the challenge!
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Aaaaw, Shucks...

Many thanks to Ms. Florida Transplant for tagging me with this (literally) fabulous award! For those of you who have not checked out her blog, you should. It is interesting and at least as Fabulous as mine. (After all, she won the award, too!).


It's my first blog "award," and I feel so very honored.

Not only that, but it is timely, coming right before Thanksgiving and all, so I can blog about 5 fabulous things I am thankful for, and it just ties right in with the week's theme. Wow. I am truly blessed.

So, in compliance with the requirements for accepting this fabulous blog fodder award, I hereby post my list of "Five Fabulous Fings" (as my 5 year old would say):

1. Well, I'd be a schmuck if I didn't list my family. But truly, they are awesome. From my kids to my husband to my parents, step-sibs, & in-laws, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, and on and on -- I love them all. Not only because they are genuinely good people with good hearts, but also because with their infinite capacity for random nuttiness, they will provide me with endless blog fodder for the foreseeable future. What's not to love?

2. The "C-foods" (as in, I am on a "C-food" diet) -- that's chocolate, cheese, and coffee with cream, and I try to make sure I get all three every day. Helps keep me thin and healthy, you know. Other fine C-foods include chicken, carrots, chimichangas, and champagne. Not necessarily to be eaten together, you understand.

3. My dog. He is a bassett hound and he has endless patience with my kids. Over my continuing protests, they hug him tight like a stuffed animal and kiss him on the nose, hook him up to their little plastic wagons so he can pull their toys around, and put funny hats and reindeer ears on him -- and he just sits there looking patient and bored. I have literally seen my son (accidentally) step on my dog's "wee-wee" and all he (the dog) did was give a little yelp and walk away. There was no biting, no barking, no growling -- just an apparent recognition that "the little boy did not intend to hurt me but, ow, I'd best get out of the way." When the kids are home, he is always with the kids. When they are not home, he sleeps happily by my feet while I work on my computer all day (or goof off by writing silly blog posts, one of those). What a great dog. What a great friend.

4. Our Constitution and Bill of Rights. Really, our founding fathers did a good job of designing a system of government by taking the best of what was there at the time and improving upon it, and also allowing enough flexibility that we can continue to improve upon it.

5. Beaches. The warm sand, the cool salty ocean water, the ever-present soft breeze, the beautiful seashells, the cheerful sunshine... oh, what would life be without beaches?

Now, I am supposed to pass this on to five other bloggers who I think are Fabulous (and, presumably, who have not already received this award). I have no idea whether the following bloggers will want to participate in this meme / award thing, but even if they don't, their blogs are fabulous and you should check them out. They, in turn, are supposed to list 5 things they think are fabulous. They don't have to write a book or even a paragraph about each one like I did. In fact, if they can keep it short, they will prove they are even more fabulous than me.

Here goes:

1. That Damn Expat tells some good tales, about everything from politicians who pee in their pants to her experience as a cheerleader for a day. Check it out. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll be back for more, I promise.

2. Wide Lawns and Narrow Minds. Another blogger that will make you laugh, cry, question human nature, and come back time and again looking for more stories.

3. Whiskeymarie. Always witty, with lots of photos and a great list of other great time-wasters... um, I mean blogs.... in her sidebar. Plus, she's got a great meme ceremony that I am sure will be even more lovely when it is performed in the winter with snow on the ground -- assuming she will consider this award to be in the "meme" category.

4. Here Comes Johnny Yen Again. Not sure he really wants to be called "fabulous," and also not sure he participates in meme-type awards, but I do enjoy his thoughtful and entertaining posts. You will, too.

5. Fancy Schmancy. From thought-provoking and sentimental to funny as h---.... she's got it all and then some. Check her out if you haven't already.

To my other favorite bloggers (you know who you are) that I didn't tag with this fabulous award, you know I love you anyway. Keep writing. Maybe next time you'll make the cut.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Even if I didn't tag you for the award, do take some time to remember all the fabulous people and things in your life.

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Six Random Facts About Me

Here is the second "meme" that Fancy Schmancy tagged me with last week. Happy reading!

MEME 2 -- Six Random or Weird Things About Me

The assignment:

Share 6/7 random/weird things about yourself. Tag 6/7 other bloggers, link to them, put a comment on their blog letting them know they've been tagged.

As with yesterday's meme, I'm not tagging anyone, but if I have any readers who haven't done this meme and would like to participate, please feel welcome to participate and to comment and let me know you've done so.

The disclaimer:

The assignment didn't say they had to be interesting. Just random or weird.

The answer:

1. When I was in college, I worked at the CIA for two summers, through their summer intern program (available to persons who have a parent who works there). It required filling out a huge application form, including lots of personal questions, so that I could obtain a "Secret" level government clearance. Then they actually conducted face to face interviews with people who knew me – including my college roommate and others who lived in my college dorm. I didn’t know these interviews were going to be part of the process, so I hadn’t warned anyone that the CIA might contact them. Imagine my roommate’s surprise when, on the weekend I had gone "home" to visit my family, a CIA Agent knocked at our dorm room door and asked her lots of questions about me. I was hired either in spite of, or perhaps because of, whatever my roommate said about me.... She never would tell me what they asked or what she said.

2. When I was a kid, my friends all loved the "Road Runner" and laughed uproariously whenever he foiled the Coyote yet again. I always felt sorry for the Coyote, who was constantly spending all that money on expensive and shabby contraptions from that worthless "Acme" company and was always unable to catch that annoying-as-hell Road Runner ("Beep! Beep!"). Do you think I lacked a sense of humor, or did anyone else feel that way, too?

3. When I was in the 5th grade, I won the school spelling bee and represented my school in the regional spelling bee. I’ll post about that experience some other time. For now, I'll just say that I should have won the regional spelling bee (but didn’t) and I am still an awesome speller. (humble, too... but not bitter about it... oh no, not bitter at all....)

4. Instead of a "best man" at our wedding, we had a "best woman." She was (and is) a very good friend of my husband’s. He has known her since he was in high school. Her husband and both of their kids were also in the wedding party.

5. I used to run the office football pool (for 9 years). These days, I couldn’t tell you who’s in first place or last place in the NFL.

6. I had about 2 seconds of fame when I was one of many "Deadheads" featured in a made-for-television Grateful Dead documentary sometime in the early 1990's, answering the question "what is your favorite line from a Dead song?" (Answer, "Nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile"). I can't even remember what station or company made the documentary (Discovery Channel, maybe?) but my former college roommate (the one who answered questions for the CIA) sent me a videotape of it. No, not a DVD, a videotape. You know, the kind we played on a VHS machine back in the last century? Someday I'll dig it out of the closet and see if I can figure out a way to post a clip from it on YouTube and/or share it here with you all.

Thanks for reading and, if you like, consider yourself "tagged."

My Very First Meme

Last week, Fancy Schmancy tagged me for my first-ever meme! I was oh-so-excited, and felt as though I had "arrived" in the blog world for real. But then my kids got sick and work got hectic and I still haven't done this meme. And now the meme "assignment" is just hanging over my head like a little black cloud. Sort of like my car, but that's a different story altogether.

So today I'm going for it. Kid is still sick, but I've got him parked in front of the tv sipping juice for a while, so here goes.

Oh, and I'm not going to tag anyone else for the memes (sorry, Fancy). I am, instead, adopting -- plagiarizing, even -- Whiskeymarie's approach to memes. I hope she doesn't sue me or anything. The basic idea is that memes are welcome to come here and I will answer their insistent questions, but then afterwards they will be put quietly to rest in the back yard. But without Whiskeymarie's little ceremony. I'm not as "sentimental" as she is, apparently.

Of course, if anyone wants to participate in this meme thing, you are welcome to do so. Just consider yourself tagged merely by having read this here, link away, answer the questions on your blog, and comment here to let me know you've done so. Simple as that!

Fancy's meme was apparently actually two-memes-in-one. I can't resist a bargain, so I said I'd do it. But I'm breaking it back into two memes, to shorten things up (the houses meme will take you a while to read, especially if you click all the links) and also to get two posts for the price of one. (Another bargain!) Today, we'll do meme one - houses. Tomorrow, meme two - random facts about me.

MEME ONE -- HOUSES:

The assignment:

Where would you have your 8 homes, if you were as insanely rich as the McCains? List them.

You don’t have to list your reasons, but if you do at least for a few of them, it would be more fun. And remember that the only rule is: the homes must be within the borders of the United States of America or else, within the borders of the country you live in, so as to utterly emulate the McCains.

When you’re done, tag 8 people, so that they may join in the self-indulgence, forgetting about the crappy property market and the equivalent of The End of Pompeii on Wall-Street. You could spend your time hammering your doors and windows shut in preparation for the apocalypse instead, but it would be much less fun.

The disclaimer (because I wouldn't be a very good attorney if I didn't throw in a disclaimer here and there, now would I?):

Even if I were as insanely rich as the McCains, I don't think I would buy 8 houses. I can think of better things to do with money than buy expensive houses all across the United States. Then again, perhaps it would help the real estate market and the economy, so it might be a good use of the funds after all...

The answer -- if I had to buy 8 houses, all in the United States, they would be in the following places:

1. Coronado, California (actually, one of McCain's houses is here, too).

Although dubbed "Coronado Island," it's not actually an island, but a peninsula. Regardless, it has some of the most beautiful homes on earth, and the beach near the Hotel Del Coronado is one of the hugest white-sand beaches I've ever seen. Simply awesome. You can see photos of it here. There are also several beautiful, large parks for the kids (and adult kids-at-heart) to play in. It is a short drive over the bridge, or a short ferry ride across the water (bikes welcome on board), to downtown San Diego, easily one of the top 8 most awesome cities in the world.

I don't seem to have any digital photos of Coronado; they must be on my husband's computer. But here is a link to Coronado's official website; they have lots of photos there if you are interested.

One of my fondest memories of Coronado was a trip my husband and I took there shortly after the tsunami hit Indonesia in 2004. We were dining at a restaurant. The waiter had just dropped off the wine and appetizers, and the following conversation occurred:

Waiter: Um, I just thought you might like to know, there's a tsunami warning for the area.

LegalMist: Oh wow. Does that mean they are actually expecting one or they are just watching and will let us know if something develops?

Waiter: I don't really know.

LegalMist: What is the plan if there is one, I mean, should we get in our car and drive to San Diego, or do we go stand on the roof, or what?

Waiter: (Look of concern and worry) Hmm.... I don't really know. (Big Smile) Oh well, enjoy your meal!

And off he went, smiling and humming to himself.

It is exactly that carefree attitude that I love about Coronado. It is as if the people know they are living in heaven on earth, so who cares if there is no tomorrow? Just enjoy today!


2. San Francisco, California.

Mark Twain has been quoted as saying that the coldest winter he ever endured was the summer he spent in San Francisco (or words to that effect). Nevertheless, I find San Francisco to be easily one of the most charming big cities ever, and the weather is just part of its charm. Quaint townhouses, awesome skyscrapers, bustling Chinatown, pretty parks, excellent transit system (including the historic and wonderfully fun cable cars), beautiful bay and bridges, endless museums and other amusements, home of the Grateful Dead.... the list goes on. I could happily live and die there, if only I could afford the real estate.



Okay, I know it seems unfair to put two of my houses in the same state, but they are two of my favorite U.S. cities.

In fact, I almost completely copped out and made city number three San Clemente, CA, which also ranks near the top of my "all time favorite places to be" list. But then I decided that if the "big one" ever hits California, I'd hate to lose 3 of my 8 houses, and also for investment purposes it would be better to diversify.

3. Flagstaff, Arizona.

A quaint town in the mountains of Arizona, with a fun revitalized downtown area near the university (Northern Arizona University), beautiful and historical old homes (a rarity in Arizona, where most everything is new new new), pretty tree-lined streets, and a sense of history. Flagstaff is half an hour from Sedona, Arizona, which is easily the most beautiful place on earth, but rather too hot in the summer so Flagstaff would be a better place to live.

4. Pensacola, Florida.

I know this isn't most folks' ideal city, what with the hurricanes, crime issues, and so forth, but my grandparents lived there when I was a kid, and they had the most fabulous house ever, which is the specific house I would buy there if I could. It was a two story brick house with a basement where they kept the bumper pool table. I still remember the exact address, and I have found it on Google Maps, so I know it is still there even today. Here is a picture of the exact house I would buy:



Not the best image, I know. It was originally taken with a polaroid camera (anyone remember those? They were the pre-digital-age "have to see my photo now" camera), and the photo has become yellowed with age, then was copied on my low-end color copier, and scanned into my "blogging" computer so I could post it here for all three of you to enjoy. I hope it was worth it.

That's me, standing in front of the house with my bike, circa 1971. I think I was a little old for training wheels, don't you? I loved that bike, though, with the fashionable red "banana seat" and the groovy red fringe hanging from the handle bars. Later that summer, my grandparents bought me one of those red flags on a very tall skinny plastic stick that you attach to the back of kids' bikes so people in cars can see them and won't run over them, and then I really thought I was hot stuff. Dig the pants, too. So very.... seventies.

I remember the house as being huge (although I was probably about 10 when they sold it, so probably it would seem smaller now), with very high ceilings (probably cost a fortune to heat and cool), a huge kitchen, formal dining room, sunken living room, marble-tiled entry way, home office with a separate entrance for my grandpa's insurance business, awesome (and fun) giant formal staircase with a big landing that we kids loved to play on, a huge master bedroom suite and two other large bedrooms upstairs, an attic, and a separate garage with a huge "rec room" (including ping pong table) above it.

My mom used to ship me off to stay with my grandparents in Pensacola for at least a couple of weeks every summer, and I had absolutely the best time there with my cousins and uncles and grandparents. My grandmother had a flair for decorating, so the house was beautiful and always looked "grand." I thought my grandparents were the richest people ever (until I met my friend Jennifer Goldstein, but that's another story entirely). Best of all, the house was a short drive away (half an hour, maybe?) from an awesome beach, with white sand, an excellent assortment of sea shells, and great big (to my 5 to 10 year old self) waves. I still have not forgiven my grandparents for selling that house and moving to a smallish condo in a highrise in Atlanta, GA.

If I am ever "Cindy McCain rich," I will own that house.


5. New York, NY

I've never even been there and I have no photos to share with you for this one. I drove through it once, on the way to visit a friend in Boston, but I have never stayed there. But I can't imagine owning 8 houses across the U.S. and not having one of them be in New York City.


6. Charlottesville, VA

This is another awesome university town. It is near the blue ridge mountains (great hiking, beautiful scenery) and just over a two hour drive to our nation's Capital, or (slightly different direction) to the beach in the Norfolk / Hampton area. Thomas Jefferson lived near here, at Monticello, and our fifth president, James Monroe's Ash Lawn estate is here, too. If I could afford to buy an estate like these, I would.


7. Columbia, SC

Another adorably quaint town with awesome houses with hardwood floors, fireplaces, arched doorways and ancient plumbing, curvy-hilly-tree-lined streets, a sense of history, decent weather, and enough fun stuff to do that I wouldn't be bored out of my skull. And although South Carolina has sort of a racist reputation (some of which may be deserved), my best friend who I have known since I was about 3 years old lives in this town. We have kept in touch even through all of our families' various moves which started when we were both about 8 years old. When we get together it is like we still live just down the street from each other and we just pick up where we left off yesterday. So yeah, I'd buy a house there just down the street from her so I could visit her at least once a year and stay a while.

Here is a photo I found on flickr of an old historical house in Columbia SC. The house I'd buy there, however, would be brick, on a larger lot, and surrounded by huge trees.


8. I feel like quite the copy-cat, here, even though I am modifying Fancy's idea a bit. Instead of a houseboat, I'd buy an RV, perhaps something like this one, by Fleetwood. That way, I could explore America's vast interior, visit all the states I've never visited before, and re-live my bus-driving glory days all at once. Nothing like sitting up high in a huge vehicle with ten plus tons of "right of way," cruising the open highway on a beautiful sunny day..... aaahhh, the good old days.