8.31.11

31 Aug

Today is a very special day.  It is my husband’s birthday, and his first birthday as a married person.  I could go on forever about how my husband is the most wonderful person ever.  He certainly is.  But I think he knows I feel that way.  Instead, I want to tell everyone about the things that make him special to me.

1. He accepts my quirkiness and is the only person I know who can match it.

2. He loves his family.

3. He encouraged me to keep my maiden name because he “fell in love with Jenny Cooper.”

4.  He is afraid of caterpillars but can walk into a room where he does not know anyone and charm the pants (or dress) off of every single person in the room- young and old.  He is certainly fearless in that way.

5. He pulled a towel up next to me on the bathroom floor when I had food poisoning.

6. He is the only person who has never once given me the ick. I never get sick of him and would spend every moment of my day with him.

7. He loves my independence.

8. He coaxed Coco Chanel Cooper Thomas (a very stubborn and surly chihuahua) into falling in love with him by singing to her.  It took a year, but she waits for him at the door to come home.

9. He loves to silly dance when no one is watching.

10.  He picked me for forever.

Happy Birthday, to my favorite pie.

10 Aug

I am a horrible blogger! It is true.  I think I have been avoiding blogging because I feel, well, uninteresting lately.  In many ways a legal career zaps the creativity out of a person.  

It also makes me think of all of the cool, creative things I am not.  Like a dancer, specifically a ballerina.  I think dance is such an amazing form of self expression.  Yet, besides occasional Zumba classes for exercise, it is just something I don’t have.  Also, French. French women appear so mysterious, dramatic and interesting.  Instead, I am an open book.  

Perhaps an amazing singer, painter, photographer, heiress?  Those things are genetic, so in the end I really blame my parents.

Obviously, I should have been some kind of organic farmer.  I can imagine nothing better then wandering through lush vegetable gardens, feeding animals, cooking simple yet nourishing meals and sitting on my front porch drinking and watching the sunset.  Except maybe being a ballerina.  

 

The Woman With You

7 Jul

On the eve of my 30th birthday, I am driving home after a particularly hard day.  A failed  stressful mediation, a disconcerted client, a wrong turn onto the causeway bridge making me 10 min late for the failed mediation and an awkward email to my boss in which I confessed that I left my suit jacket at said mediation and could he bring it to the office for me?  You know, living the life of a successful, independent career oriented woman.  

On the radio played a legitimately cheese country song by Kenney Chesney, yet a certain verse caught my attention

She said the girl I was with the business degree probably wouldn’t recognize me.
I was going around the bank.
I was going to run them out.
Now all I want to run is a bubble bath.
Back then you know I had this plan.
Before all of this reality set in.
Here comes life boy ready or not.
Hey I wanted it all and that’s what I got.

Somehow, this sums up how I feel on the eve of my 30th year completely… ready to give up on my big dreams of a law career and retire to tend to my garden, cook for my husband and just enjoy life.

My very wise grandmother informed me this weekend that one feels old at 30 and later peaks again at age 40+.  I am anxiously awaiting that peak and scorning the naive 22 year old that truly wanted to run the world.  What is it about year 30 that makes one happy with the idea of a simpler, less stressful life?

So happy 30th birthday to me, and I look forward to celebrate it knowing the things that truly matter to me- friends, family and stiff dirty martinis.  

I Cannot Sit Still

25 May

I have never been able to sit still.  I hate it.  I am not patient, and do not sleep well at night.  I think I am always afraid to miss something.

I cannot explain it very well, but often I get this overpowering desire to travel.  Note that this desire was not cured by my 9 day honeymoon to St. Martin, nor my future plans to go to Austin, Rosemary Beach or Charleston.  I need more.

I am slightly afraid that I am one of those people that are never happy being in one place.  I always want to be someplace else- in a cabin in the mountains, beautiful crystal clear water beaches or a cafe in Paris.  This urge has only increased since I have become part of the mass workforce, sitting at my desk all day, with only a pretty view to appease me. 

I am happy to know I am not alone.  My favorite writer, John Steinbeck, felt the same way.  In Travels with Charley, Steinbeck documents his journey with his standard poodle, Charley, across the United States in a camper.  He also had the incurable travel itch that I believe must have haunted him (like me) throughout his life.

I would recommend the book to really anyone, even my husband who reads very dry “self help books” (how to become a better lawyer, etc.)  It is one of those rare books that gets under your skin, and you keep thinking about it. 

I, too, would love to travel the United States as Steinbeck did, with my Charlie, except the poodle would be replaced with chihuahuas.  Until then, I will be staring out my window and thinking of all of the fabulous places that I am not going.

Words of Advice to my Unborn Niece

17 May

It is a crazy thing when your younger sister is pregnant.  The excitement is overwhelming, but it is also so strange to think that your sissy, who you use to steal clothes from and give dating advice, is now going to have a little girl of her own. 

Little Adelaide will no doubt spend lots of time with her Tante Sis and Uncle Charlie in New Orleans.  I just hope we can be good role models, and keep her out of our wine stash.  I hope we can be who she comes to for advice when her mom and dad just won’t understand.  This is what I will tell her…

1. Don’t pick a career simply because you are good at it.  Pick something you will love.  Don’t be too practical about it.

2. Travel often when you are young and still look good in a bathing suit. 

3. Date many different types of people and do not ever settle.  You want to one day be able to tell the person you will marry that you have tried many things out and that he (or she) is the best thing you will ever find.  That way you will never regret your choice.

4. Be nice to everyone. Don’t pick on the smaller or different kids, those who collect fossils.  They may one day grow up to be wonderful people, just like Uncle Charlie. 

5. Be independent and never afraid to speak your mind.  Live on your own and learn to do things for yourself.  

Until then, we will anxiously await your arrival. 

Love,  Tante Sis

My So Called Single Life

12 May

So my husband has been out of town for a few days.  Even though I am now married, I still consider myself somewhat of a token single girl.  Prior to my first magical meeting with Charlie outside of contracts class at LSU law, I had been a very single person for many years.

Even though it takes a little more getting use to, I still love being alone.  I never get bored or lonely.  Not to say I don’t miss my husband, I just really like my time.

My mother in law asked me the other day what I have been doing with myself since Charlie has been away? Easy, reverting back to my old single habits…

Eating soup for dinner, happy hour with my girlfriends, and tons of super trashy television, because I can.  Oh, and also sharing my bed with my favorite raisin face…

This is not much different from my prior single life, except that included smoking cigarettes in the bathtub and listening to Billy Holiday. 

My house is dirty, clothes are not clean and there are little chihuahua hair dust bunnies everywhere. 

However, the dark chocolate box of candies is much lighter and my mind is filled with enough reality television to get me through the first few days when Charlie returns.

This Ol House

3 May

I have a deep and undying love for old homes. 

My mom grew up on a plantation home in Donaldsonville, Louisiana.  Palo Alto plantation. 

When my grandparents were still alive, the home was the location for some of my most special and guarded childhood memories.  Together with my bff cousins, we enjoyed easter egg hunts, Christmas parties,  horse back riding, staying up late, and sneaking downstairs early in the morning to find my Momo and Bubba making eggs, coffee, and sausage.  It was the only time I ever saw my well coiffed grandmother with her hair down. 

To this day, the smell of a pipe, old wood and baking biscuits brings me back.  It is an undescribable feeling, and something I was so lucky to experience.

Although my grandparents are now gone, I still have a profound love for old homes.   There is something about the mystery and untold stories that an old home has, it gives me chills. 

 When Charlie and I started looking for a place to call home, it was not even a question that said home had to be old.  Luckily, we live in a city where old homes are easy to come by. 

When we found our 1890’s victorian, I was sold.  La maison qui chante.  We put in an offer the next day and never looked back. 

It is true, old homes are drafty, difficult to fix and altogether moody.  But I would not change Calhoun Street for the world.  I have been called an old soul before, and I always take it as a complement.  My soul is just like my home, full of stories and a love for things past. 

 Charlie and I cannot wait to build memories in our home, adding to the story it will one day tell its new owners.  Hopefully, they can be as special as the memories my family and I have on the porch at Palo Alto.