Was it Something I Said?

Please bear with me, I have a tiny rant.

I just returned home from an afternoon out with a friend. We attended an art show then stopped into a new restaurant where we enjoyed a nice lunch. The service was outstanding. We enjoyed the air conditioning as we sipped our margaritas and dined on 100% TexMex awesomeness that included tamale, enchilada, tacos, chips and guacamole. Yum! It was a fitting Houston lunch for this all-American holiday weekend.

Before heading home we stopped into our favorite bar for a cocktail - a place we've patronized for over two years. We're regulars. We were greeted by a bartender who is fairly new to the crew and we took two seats at the end of the bar. We placed our orders and extended hellos to a couple of the other bartenders. It became clear very soon that the mood in the place was not good.

It was late afternoon and as the staff on duty grew, one-by-one they displayed scowls and exchanged looks of general unpleasantness. They used one word answers with the customers and with each other. A few of them looked (frankly) pissed off.

Can I tell you that it was uncomfortable? Can I tell you that I didn't want to be there? Can I tell you that I wish we hadn't stopped in?

Here's a big one.

Can I tell you that I don't know if I'll go back?

The funny thing about this is that just last week I let one of the bartenders in this establishment know that I'd nominated her for a local newspaper's web award. Now this woman is hardly acknowledging me. (Wait. I don't think we're best friends. The day I get that buddy-buddy with my barkeep is the day I sign up for an extended stay at posh place with "Meadows" on the sign out front.) It was just weird.

Here's the story I made up in my head about today. (Remember, I make up stories.) The people working in the place were irritated, pissed off, angry, SOMETHING, for some reason and they didn't or couldn't make nice in front of the customers.

What. A. Shame.

The good thing about Houston is that there are plenty of places to spend a buck or two on a cocktail. Or ten.

Measuring Excitement

I've been taking photographs for years, decades for you sticklers for detail. I've enjoyed sharing my pics with families, then friends.

With the advent of electronic sharing, I shared.

Very recently I was told I should share in a different way. It was mentioned to me more than once that I might share with strangers commercially, that people might be interested in paying for my view on the world.

That stirred a little something in me. Ego. Fear. More fear and a few restless nights that mixed that fear with excitement.

I enjoyed the attention and the talk.

I took a leap and I ordered some prints to test my favorite shots at eight by ten inches. Wow! That was exciting.

Guess what. Sixteen by twenty is much more than twice the fun.

Building my showpieces along with my excitement.

This is a blast.



©Michelle Scofield, May 27, 2011 All Rights Reserved

Resolution

AskTheDateCoach is no longer.

It was a nice idea while it lasted. It was a fun conversation starter.

I'd rather put my energies elsewhere. Oh, I still have opinions on dating. I will be more than happy to share them from time to time. Not to worry.

If you've followed me there, please follow me here.

I'd love for you to follow my photography.

I'll keep you posted as that develops. Ha! I couldn't resist. I have many things lining up for the future. Can't wait to share.




©Michelle Scofield, May 25, 2011 All Rights Reserved

Leave My Allegory Out of This

My text message alert (the upward sliding whistle) sounded as I reached for a second glass of water. I left the cell phone on the counter as I drank down the tumbler of coldness and told myself that all I needed to complete my task was water, that I certainly had the energy cells but without H20, I couldn't make it. About an hour earlier I’d packed an old Anatomy and Physiology book into a box and the formula for Aerobic Respiration threatened to make an appearance in my brain after all these years.

“Krebs Cycle? What the hell?” I’d long forgotten many of the things I used to think were important. I set the glass on the counter and picked up my phone. Reading the cheerful greeting, I decided it could wait.

I spent an hour moving boxes and bins from my storage closet to the spare bedroom in my apartment. Fortunately said storage closet was only about 300 yards away. I carried tennis rackets and golf clubs the length of a football field. I moved my grandmother’s china and my mother’s Avon treasures.

Most of those boxes hadn’t been opened in over a year.




Each time I opened my apartment door to drop off a load my phone alerted me to another message. Did I want to listen to some music? Was I hungry? Of course I did and of course I was. Unfortunately, I was busy.

I used the metal luggage cart my daughter used in her band camp days to carry boxes of photographs and boxes of toys. My mother’s heart wants to believe that her high school language wasn’t as colorful as mine as she loaded her French horn and suitcase on those little rollers. My soon to be ex-neighbors got an earful of cursing as heavy boxes challenged the tiny dolly and I maneuvered through the hallways of the complex, sweating and mumbling about my remaining adenosine triphosphates.

My final trip yielded a card table and my Hurricane Preparedness kit (toilet paper, flashlight, batteries, canned food, battery operated fan, can opener, bleach). Two more things I didn’t use since moving into this place in December of 2009. I’m happy that we weren’t hit by a natural disaster. I’ll leave the emergency supplies intact and hope that they remain untouched for another five years.

My phone was blinking after I’d finished a bath in a tub full of cool water. It felt wonderful to soak away the heat and dust of generations of saving pretty things from the past. I settled into my big, ugly, old, doesn’t-go-with-anything chair that I use every day.

I haven’t had a meaningful, romantic, physical relationship with a man in two years.

My working title to this essay was, “Leave my allegory out of this.” It’s too easy. All these boxes, the dust. Right. Laugh about it. I have. I do.

As I think about it, I like the title. I also like the thought of unpacking a few boxes before I move. I have a month. I’ll condense and take fewer things with me. There’s no way I need some of those things. (I think tax records from ten years ago can be shredded.)

But before I go, I’ll be having dinner and listening to some music with that man. We have a date. I’m no dummy.



©Michelle Scofield, May 21, 2011 All Rights Reserved

The Man in the Crimson Shirt

Same corner, every day.

Almost violent in his pointing
and waving,
he pushes me toward a

Twenty-nine dollar
manicure

neither
needed
nor
wanted.

Who hired this angry man to
stand on this corner
and direct me to services
unsought?

I'll close this sunroof and
catch Deacon Blues before
they reach him.

This free brother
is tempting me to throw
him
a kiss in exchange
for his mad display.

Green light drives me
and my music away.
Point on, rhythm man.


©Michelle Scofield May 11, 2011 All Rights Reserved

Future Written in the Past

I've started the process of "Look at it, Toss it or Keep it. Look at it again." I could wax nostalgic about a lifetime of collecting memories but I'm only halfway into this planned century of living so that seems a bit premature. My goal this morning is to begin the process of packing for a move down Highway 59. Doing so means tackling the mountain of mail and Very Important Papers on my desk. I pulled out a plastic filing crate from the closet and started throwing away Other Very Important Papers to make room for newer ones. It all makes sense to me.

As I finished the "Car" folder and moved to "Chris", I found two yellowing sheets of lined notebook paper. One was written by my son and one by my daughter. My son was not yet using longhand, except for his signature. My daughter wrote in precise cursive, nothing I would recognize as hers today. I took the time to sit down and read.

Apparently one day there had been some sort of altercation that had prompted a punishment by me that resulted in the pages I now held in my hands. They (the children) had been instructed to write a full page on why they should not hit each other. I won't go into the exact words they wrote but I will tell you that when my kids were in grade school I didn't have any idea they would grow into their current professions. Oh, I knew they would excel at anything they attempted. I knew they would be superstars - there was no doubt in my mind. (That's not just their Mom talking, they were undeniably brilliant.) What I didn't know as I was wrapped up in parenting, groceries, cooking, cleaning, considering my own schooling, attempting to keep a failing marriage together (and honestly, not attempting that hard), running a household, and fearing for the future of my brilliant children and myself...was that I had a lawyer and a doctor sitting right in front of me.

The papers written so many years ago speak of arbitration, fairness, diplomacy and consequences. They speak of relationships, self-esteem, the family unit. They speak of the importance of remaining healthy physically. I am blown away each and every day by the gift that I have been given in my children. I try so hard not to live in regret but how I wish I had been able to take more time when they were younger to appreciate the lessons they were teaching me. Paige and Chris, I love you more than I can ever, EVER express.


©Michelle Scofield May 7, 2011 All Rights Reserved

Top Ten List

Here are the top ten reasons why today is a good day:

10. I know I'm moving.

9. I don't know exactly to where I'm moving and that gives me a bit of a thrill. I recognize this vagabond trait in myself and I know it comes from living an unsettled childhood. I know it comes from making the best of not-so-good situations. I learned that there was a knew to be gained from every new and a know to grow from every now. I learned that I needed to pay attention to everything. Mom said I was like a little bird who perked up at the slightest change in the air in the room. My winds of change are stirring and I'm excited to see what they'll bring to me.

8. The weather is glorious. (That's typed in imaginary musical font, in case you didn't hear it in your head.)

7. I have another trip planned at the end of the month. My frequent flyer miles are racking up toward another freebie.

6. The photographs I shot in Chicago are incredibly strong. I'm proud and excited to put together something to show.

5. I'm connecting with my patients on a level I haven't felt for at least ten years. I think it's the bell-ringing. When someone completes therapy it's a HUGE accomplishment and I get to be there to see their celebrations. DING! DONG! DING!

4. Satellite Radio is the best. There's nothing like 70's music to get me in a good mood in the morning.

3. I found some old David Letterman on YouTube. Watching him in a Velcro suit - stuck to a wall - was hilarious. Last night I think I woke my neighbors. I was laughing so hard.

Tied for 1 and 2. My children. I watch the more-settled, growing-up versions of that younger me and I am amazed. And in this I sit in gratitude.


©Michelle Scofield May 4, 2011 All Rights Reserved