But, wait, let me back up and come at this like a drill.
tweet thisFiled under: Deep South, Everyday, family, food, health, life, writing
If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you about my weekend. And what I learned. I have to say, I'm very glad that there are a wealth of good people in the State of Mississippi. It never ceases to amaze me, as long as I've lived here, how innately good so many of them are. And get this: I'm talking about the younger generation. Not just my Aunt Zora's quilting bee. The human spirit is alive, well, and brilliantly resilient in this state. Key word here: resilient. That's important to note because I'm fairly sure I was the Sword of Damocles from Friday, around...
I can't die here, not this close to the Mennonite bakery.
Filed under: Deep South, faith, family, food, health
I think I almost died last Friday morning, right outside of Macon, Mississippi. The weather was atrocious, as it has been for the past two solid weeks; the rain was torrential (FYI: that's a word on My Favorite Words List, which I keep in my glove compartment), the wind was ridiculous, and the roads held pockets of watery vengeance...but that's not what I thought was I dying from. Because I'm a fairly safe driver. It's one of the good qualities I inherited from my father. I kept my cruise control right on 60 mph, stayed in the slow lane, and I'd successfully...
Real love requires 2" heels, at least.
That Ken Ludwig. Man. He can't write a play without causing serious damage to the ankles. (That's what my feet are saying, anyway. Ah, well, there's a price to be paid for anything, huh?) I'm sorry if this comes across, at first, like a shameless plug for the current production of Leading Ladies that I'm in - it wouldn't matter anyway, if it did; we're practically sold out for the rest of this run. We've only got one more week, and then...it's curtains. Literally. But, out of the goodness of my heart, and since I'm a Christian man (from the waist up, anyway), I'll gladly give you the...
I was able to order my fish sandwich without incident.
I can no longer ignore the inevitable because Wednesday, June 24, is fast approaching. And that is the day in which I must board a plane. And fly to Memphis, in which, I will get off one plane and onto another one...and head to Tacoma. A city in a state so far away from here that it might as well not even be a part of the United States. Few other things make me as defensive or difficult as flying. Because I'm so afraid of it. Not just because I'm mean. Flying is something that I can safely hate. I become neurotic, distraught, maybe even mean...I'm...
And, for the record, I really like my shower curtain.
Last night. Oh, my, last night... Full house. Standing ovation. Sheer exhaustion. After party. Kudos. The usuals. Totally worth it...all the rehearsals, which in this case were rather tightly thrown together and quickly so, and the lines...oh god, the lines...I've never been that close to Shakespeare (he seems standoffish like my cousin Jonathan - sure, sure, he'll speak, he'll pass you the potato salad if you ask him, but he won't really like doing it, and you'll be able to tell from the look on his face, but it'll be a private thing, not broadcast to the whole dinner table). But, last night, Shakespeare...
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