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Thursday, February 26, 2015

And Another...

...that I will leave right here. My fellow white women, we need to get our shit together and stop doing this.

Those are Rafia Zakaria's thoughts, that I am passing along to you because I agree. That and a buck fifty...

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Airport Adventures

Getting around New Orleans is...interesting. This one though was particularly special.

This past Saturday, it came time for Starbuck to go home. We take her to the airport, see her through security, blah, blah, blah. Go down, stand in line at the cab stand, get given our cab by the guy whose job it is to organize cabs, Cab Dude. 

Get in the cab. Say hi. Make pleasantries. Ask if his credit card reader is working, because we've learned to ask that. No, it's not. Reconfirm that his credit card reader is not working. Nope, not working. Oh, okay. So we get out. Go back up to Cab Dude, tell him the card reader isn't working, and ask for another cab. Cabbie #1 comes out of his cab and has an exchange with Cab Dude, where Cab Dude (respectfully, I may add) reminds Cabbie #1 that he is required to have a working card reader, and to get it fixed before he comes back to the airport or Cab Dude will have to report him. Cabbie #1 says that card reader "could come back up any time" but Cab Dude gives him a cash fare, reminds him to get it fixed, and sends him on his way. (Note: I think, but have no way to prove, that Cabbie #1 had a perfectly fine card reader, but didn't want to deal with card fees, so said no, not expecting us to call his bluff and get out of his cab. If this is so, it makes the rest all the more annoying because it was unnecessary.) We get into the next cab.

I say hi. Make pleasantries. Ask Cabbie #2 if his card reader works. He responds "Where you are going?" Which makes me wonder, but I tell him the CBD, and ask again if his cab reader works. He asks "where in the CBD?" 
"Name of My Street. But does your card reader work?" "Why wouldn't he take you?"
"His card reader doesn't work. Does yours?"
At this point, Cabbie #2 starts getting angry with me. "No, no, that's not how it's supposed to work. Why wouldn't he take you? Hold on this isn't how it's supposed to work. You stay right here!" And he gets out of the cab, goes over to Cab Dude. 

At this point, I can't make out individual words, but can tell it's heated. Then I hear Cab Dude, yelling: "They didn't refuse him. They offered to take his ride, but his card reader wasn't working. They don't have to take a ride if the card reader isn't working. (...Cabbie #2 yelling indistinctly, but angrily) No YOU look, I did MY job, you worry about YOUR job. They're a legitimate ride. Take it."
More Cabbie #2 yelling ~ as he get back into the cab to drive us. Oh hell no. At this point, I say to Lithus "That's it. Get out. I'm not riding with this guy."
Poor Lithus has been sitting there the whole time, trying to stay calm, not embarrass ME, not overreact. I said "that's it" and he FLEW out of the cab. Flew.

I go to Cab Dude and say "that's it, I'm not riding with this guy. We'll find another way home."
Cab Dude: "No, I got you, You stay here. I'll get you a ride that's got his stuff together." Yells over my head to Cabbie #2 "SEE?!!! And now YOU lost YOUR ride, too. Get your shit together and stop worrying about other people!" And Cabbie #2 screeches out of the cab stand, leaving the single, female tourist in line with us looking scared out of her mind and wondering why the hell she's come to this city.

Cabbie #3 is pulling up. I don't get in his cab. I don't make pleasantries. I walk up to him and ask "Does your card reader work?"
He, who has seen just enough of this to understand my exasperation, smiles and says "Everything works in this cab. I even have backup."

And so we got home. But good fucking lord. 

Those are I-feel-like-I've-dropped-into-a-weird-movie Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Candy or Iron, Apparently

Lithus and I got up this morning. Made coffee. Checked email. Lived life. I did some work stuff. He did some work-related stuff. We had a big conversation. We had many small conversations. It was a very ordinary day.

After we'd been up for hours, though, I remembered: Today is our wedding anniversary. 6 years ago tonight, we stood in our living room and got married. 

Now, if you ask either of us, we can tell you when our anniversary is (Feb. 22nd), so we didn't forget forget. We just never have any idea what the actual date is. Luckily, neither of us remembered, so there was no awkwardness. Still...dude.

So, we kissed. He's bought me some flowers. We'll toast with wine a little later. And have sworn that next year we'll remember. We may have missed candy and iron, but I want in on copper!

Those are happily married Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Happy Mardi Gras!

There are so many blog posts wandering around in my head. 50 Shades of Grey. Being the Smartest Person in the Room. Blogs I Don't Write. So many.

BUT! It's Mardi Gras. And Starbuck arrives to tonight. We've got Fat Tuesday, Ash Wednesday (not that any of us observe that one, but still). Then Swamp Thursday, as the 3 of us venture off into the bayou.

There's work to be done and celebrations to enjoy and life to be lived.

More soon. Just not today.

Today, Happy Mardi Gras!



Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you King Cake.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

For All My Friends Who Deal With It...

I'm just going to leave this brilliant article on an often overlooked privilege right here.

Those are Pobble Thoughts, via Everyday Feminism and Melissa A Fabello.

Sunday, February 08, 2015

Would'ja Look At That

Oh hey! I have a blog. Who knew?

Many, many thanks to those of you who remembered, even when it seemed like I had forgotten. I haven't forgotten. I just...haven't written.

Life is in one of those places right now where absolutely nothing is happening. The other day, Dr. B. said "something has to be going on, Pobble. Something is always going on with you." But, honestly, nope. Nothing.

Don't get me wrong, while life may be boring to read about right now, that doesn't mean it's boring to live. I'm really (really) enjoying a routine that is a little more routine than I usually live. Wake up, workout, work, go for walks, head to the grocery store. You know ~ life.

Meanwhile, an update:


  • I've gotten into PiYo. It's making me bendy.
  • Black and brown people are still being treated horribly by white people.
  • The highs have already been in the 70s here in NOLA. I am keeping my mouth shut when talking with friends from Boston and the Northeast in general. But I'm loving it, nonetheless.
  • Women are still being treated horribly by men.
  • I've gotten some really cool new work. They're just single projects, nothing long-term, but it's really satisfying to be getting my name out there.
  • Women of color are still being treated horribly by white women.
  • While I've been wicked excited to be making real money writing, finally, we were also a bit thrown by our tax liability. When you make more than a couple thousand dollars a year, you actually owe the government some of that. Good to remember.
  • LGBTQ people are still being treated horribly by straight, cis folks ~ and each other, in a weird, internalized self-loathing kind of way.
  • In spite of the unexpected tax liability, seeing how much I'm making doing the job I love, how much I am contributing financially to my family, how much what I do is valued by the standard to which we have agreed, is rewarding. To the point of giddiness.
  • People have still not clued into the fact that not being allowed to oppress doesn't make them oppressed.
  • Recently, I've been reminded ~ in the very best way ~ that while self-care is vitally important, it can be taken too far. Sometimes, it's important to do the things that are hard, scary, that we don't necessarily want to do. Sometimes it's important because we find strength we had forgotten we had. Sometimes it's important because we are grown ups and sometimes have to do the hard thing. Whyever (it's a word now, dammit) it becomes important to do the hard thing. when it's important to do it, it's important to do it.


In other words, just because I haven't been writing about it, doesn't mean I'm not still out here, doing my thing in real life. It just hasn't been very interesting reading.

That being said, I'll try not to disappear quite so long again. Thanks again to all of you who kept asking where I'd gone.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Good Question

There's an art...exhibit...display...occurrence... here in NOLA. Not the one over in Algiers that's gotten national attention. Another one, smaller one, here in our area. It's probably an 80 foot wall covered in chalkboard paint (I'm assuming). Right there in front of it on the sidewalk is a tupperware of chalk nibs.

Written permanently is "Before I die I want to__________________________" and you are encouraged to fill in a blank. When it rains, it washes the old answers off, giving up the spaces for new responses. 

Lithus and I were both struck by "write a novel" and "fly an airplane." There are so many other answers. The one that moved me the most though was "Be Known."

God, I know that place. I remember it.

But the art definitely created conversation here. I had several knee-jerk responses. Travel. Fill a passport. Take a multi-week, first class only vacation. Host a black tie event. Host my B&B Weekend party. Renovate an old Victorian home.

Then we turned to real things. And I settled on one.

As I've written before, I am the power behind the throne. I have no desire to be the Queen. I'm happily, comfortably, desirably the Queen's best friend. That being said, I would like to think that I positively motivated, inspired, mentored, or influenced someone who truly changed the world. That I gave them the spark, confidence, bravery, whatever, that allowed them to do their thing to that extent.

Before I die, I want to inspire someone to change the world. But I wouldn't mind filling a passport book, either. Gotta be honest.

How about you?

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.