Monday, November 13, 2006

Holy Smokes! I've been tagged.

I've been tagged by bellavoce! And today was a good day. Two good reasons to blog.

Blog tag goes like this: Since I've been tagged, I must write five things about myself. I'm going to try and write five unique things unheard previously by anyone in California. Then I get to tag five people. They will write five things about themselves--whatever they choose to reveal. Thanks to Miss Bellavoce for getting my blogger juices flowing again.

1. In waking up one morning after a storm (was it a hurricane? I cannot remember), I was carried into another room of our apartment. Trashcans sat in different spots of the room collecting water. Yes, New Orleans is perhaps notorious for its storms. It rained and rained so hard that our ceiling had brown spots for years afterward. We painted the ceilings. Another storm hit, causing the paint to warp and form air pockets. I always wanted to pop those air pockets. I think I did.

2. At the age of 10 and 11 I was in my school's traveling production of Dead End Street, a show to drive kids away from drugs. I dressed in ragged clothes, teased my hair, and painted my nostril with lipstick to make it look bloody. I climbed on ladders, beat on trashcans, stomped, and screamed. Those early shows in elementary school shaped me. Thank you, Lusher school, for sharing the gift of art and performance! Thank you for your art classes, your dance troupe, your tap classes, your festivals!

3. Speaking of Lusher school and festivals, my elementary/middle school held the annual Crawfish Boil. I usually kicked off the day performing with the dance troupe. I ate a carton of crawfish with seasoned corn and potatoes. Then, I roamed from the bake sale to the games and back to the bake sale, back to the games. I climbed Jacob's ladder. I bought a plant. I joined in the crawfish races. I bought confetti eggs to crack on the heads of my teachers, friends, and crushes. My parents insisted on taking a picture of Emily and me in front of the old oak tree every year. Ya'll come now!

4. My dad's work hosted an annual crawfish boil, too. It took place on the Sunday of the Thoth parade. Again, I ate crawfish, corn, and potatoes. Everyone chatted in the front yard. Policemen on horseback would pass, signaling the start of the parade. And, oh, here come the bands! And Mount Carmel's "Carmelettes," a local high school's dance squad. Now, the floats! Throw me something, mister! Stuffed animal! I want a stuffed animal! A spear! A spear! Anytime a crewman would pull out a plastic spear, adrenaline would rush over me. Outta my way! I'd get as close as I could to that float, my arms flailing! HAPpy Mardi Gras!

5. My family once dressed up like "Bloomin' Idiots" for Mardi Gras. I must have been two or three--back when Granny Crawford lived near downtown New Orleans. I'm sure my mama could tell you what possessed us to do such a thing or what possessed us to be the Potato Head Family or the Troll Family or the Moo Cow Family, udders and all. I'll never forget my pink velcro sneakers peaking out from under my hooves.


Now, it's your turn!
Yes, you: Rae, Rachel, Ma-Mamushka, Stephen, and Felix!

4 Comments:

Blogger Raelynn Ann said...

..::aahhh::.. a refreshing sigh of blog satisfaction. You sure do have stories to tell! Shoot...

Well, is there a time limit on this tagging? I feel that tonight's opportunity has exprired, along with my consciousness... zzzz.....

12:59 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I remember seeing the video from Dead End Street at Grandma's house. I knew then that you were my Long Lost Cousin and I wanted to be your friend.

8:20 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank you for doing the post so soon! It really did take me weeks to actually complete my own (hence the lapse into procrastination).

I take it that you lived in New Orleans earlier in life. I LOVE that city! The French Quarter captured my heart this past summer when I visited with my family and helped with Habitat for Humanity.

Once again, it was great to read about you!

God Bless,
~Marge

11:05 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

ya ma & i "ruined ya." Never discount what you do with your children; they remember everything. That night when the heavens opened was just another rain storm. We had only just moved into that duplex apartment and Janet had just bought a new aqua colored bedspread for our room. We awoke at midnight or so to see/feel/hear a slow drip from the ceiling over the center of our bed.

"&^@+?@!!!" your dad exclaimed. By 3 am we had moved you to the back smallest bedroom and lugged our matresses to the dining room to sleep there for the next three weeks. We also punched several fist sized holes through the original plaster ceilings in three rooms(no sheetrock)to allow arm-thick waterfalls to cascade down onto our newly carpeted floors. It was an incredible mess.

The two story structure had a flat roof with a parapet wall surround with only one scupper drain to the rear rear yard. Bad idea for houses in New Orleans. The drain must of got clogged and the roof then held a sea which backed up to the flashing at the heating vents; leaked down to the joists above our ceilings and spread all over to find cracks due to the house constantly shifting since, of course, very few structures are built on pilings in N'Awlins.

Your version of this event is poetic and simple and to the point. Your pa feels he has to explain and explain and explain. Sorry! Your ma and I thought you slept throught the whole thing and would not remember to "blog" about it many years later.

Luv, p

2:09 AM  

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