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Today I fell asleep on the beach, a feat of trust I'd deemed impossible, regardless of my brother's advice to just let go. Making new friends in this odd and unusual situation I first found myself in 4 years ago hasn't been easy, just by its very nature. Finally the social aspects of my life are catching up to the wealth of joy and stability that have filled the cracks of my formerly broken life. Nowadays it seems unnecessary to blindly chase happiness, you can't find it that way anyway. I've been surrounded by the sights and sounds of the ocean since Monday, even into the night by leaving the balcony door open as I watch TV and drink ungodly amounts of water. Somehow I wasn't strategic enough in my sunblock-applying stragedy and have ended up with a nasty burn on my shoulders. The clear, aqua water, the sugar-white, stick-to-everything, powdery sand, the mild heat and sweet Gulf breezes, the just-out-of-the-water-fresh seafood, and the company of a friend are making this week a thing of real relaxing pleasure. Tomorrow morning I'll get back in the ocean and play, but the 8 dolphins I saw today forced me out of the water immediately, because dorsal fins, curved or not, take the fun out of everything! Paradise awaits!
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Beach Bound

A cool new friend from NAMI invited me to hang out with her in Florida this week, so tomorrow I'm going to the beach! I've had some concern over body-image issues, of course, but have decided to forgo the worrying and just enjoy this awesome opportunity to have fun. Deciding on a book to bring has been difficult, so my beach bag will be heavy with several- it is a woman's prerogative to change her mind! I'm looking forward to walking on the beach, looking for sea shells and sea creatures, listening to the water speak, and taking pictures. Maybe I'll come home with a tan! An exciting adventure awaits, and I'm ready for it, ready to experience the vastness of the ocean, and its effect on my body and soul.

Also: Notice the change in the layout of my little blog? I like it, it's fresh!

R.I.P. Polaroid Instant Cameras, 1947 - 2008

Bye bye Polaroid instant cameras, you're just not instant enough by today's standards. These days "instant" is common, demanded, and universal. Sure, the picture was magically developed and delivered in an instant, but the quality was pretty pitiful. Today's consumers expect immediate gratification with uncompromising, perfect results on a consistent basis. Poor old Polaroid just couldn't compete, so he's been retired to the land where all our used-up, expired, and forgotten junk resides: ebay. There are still plenty of Polaroid Land Camera lovers out there, collectors and fans whose nostalgia draws them to search out the plastic boxes which spit out a blurry, oddly-colored image best hastened on its way to development by the waving back and forth method, or better yet, the warming-it-up-in-the-arm-pit method, preferred by men. Edwin Land founded the Polaroid Corporation in 1937, and in 1947 released the first Polaroid Instant Camera, or Polaroid Land Camera, onto the market. The idea came from a question posed to him by his daughter, Jennifer, "why can't I see them now?" Why not, indeed, I guess he thought, and the cameras were wildly successful until quite recently, when digital cameras became the norm, and expectations of consumers changed. Polaroid doesn't produce the cameras anymore, and in February they ceased production of all instant film, shutting down 3 factories and laying off 450 workers. In this decade, there has been a 25% drop in chemical film sales of all kinds, and the market for this antiquated equipment will continue to shrink. When I was a kid, I thought people who had Polaroids were rich. My mom had one of those ancient cameras whose flash was a glass cube that attached itself onto the top of the black box, and made a sad little sound when it blew. Truth is, the majority of pictures taken by my parents back then never even made it to the developers, and we never saw the pics of cousin whomever's birthday. Years later Mom would find old rolls of film, not one single clue whose images lived in the plastic capsule, and get them developed just for fun. We'd laugh and remember what a great time it was, and remark on how things have changed since that time that was special enough to use an entire roll of film to capture, and swear we'd never let another roll of film wait like that again to be appreciated. We as a society have forgotten how to wait, and even as I write this I glance at my Blackberry looking out for the flashing red light that tells me I have an email waiting in my inbox, realizing just how impatient I have become.

Only blue will do

Since before I was capable of rational thought, I have connected the sensations of dissolving ice and the taste of flavored sugar water on my tongue with summer. It is this rite of passage that signals the beginning of other joyous behaviors belonging solely to summer like going barefoot, enjoying the camaraderie of strangers linked together by the collective suffering brought on by the moist MS heat, maniacal mosquito swatting and slapping, hummingbird watching, porch sitting, yard strolling, flower bed picking, pruning, and admiring, picture taking, and childhood revisiting. Living half my life in southeast Louisiana and the other half in north, central and south Mississippi has taught me that snowballs are not a phenomenon to take for granted. North Mississippi was a barren land where the crushed ice, deliciously sweet, unimaginably-enormous-flavor-optioned treat was concerned, and I complained about its absence quite frequently. It seems the further south you go, the more snowball stands pop up, serving summer's most appreciative participants, children. Most snowball stands are a mom and pop deal; tiny shacks colorfully painted with a gargantuan menu of flavors in front, with room inside for only one or two adults to grind the ice and force it into a white styrofoam cup, shape it to a point with a cone, douse it liberally with neon-colored, flavored sugar water, and if you'd like, condensed milk. Blue bubble gum snowballs with cream (condensed milk) are my life's most delicious and decadent treat, as well as the most coveted. As accessible as its ingredients are, snowballs are impossible to duplicate at home, forcing one to snatch up the opportunity to eat one when you come across one of those happy little stands that seem to be slowly disappearing. Its genius lies in its simplicity, its sweetness conjuring memories of warm days, waiting in line and deciding what flavor to choose, whether or not to be adventurous and pick a new flavor like cake batter or stick with what you know, blue bubblegum that tastes like nothing else on earth, just pure bliss, summertime perfection.

FYI: This picture is of me and my Aunt KK, (with whom I used to stay in the summer and help peel squash and eat the plums off her trees) in Tylertown, MS, at Little Alaska snowball stand. They have a new item on the menu this summer: frozen pickle juice! Apparently it's really popular with the kids!

Family

In case you didn't know, there are different rules for living in the country than in the city. An impromptu family reunion took place here at Mamaw's house this evening, distant relatives appearing almost at once, and from seemingly nowhere! Eight in all, and for 2 hours, a couple of which I'd never even met. A little cousin with a frog on her shirt and a tiara on her head taught me the proper way to cut an orange; another informed me he'd been here earlier and seen us napping in our chairs, and jokingly asked if I'd caught any flies in my mouth! There's a casual feel, a laid back atmosphere with far less distance between people than I'm used to, but it lends itself to a cozy sort of feeling that's kinda nice. The lack of planning ruined the opportunity for the best aspect of a reunion: the FOOD!
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Over the river and through the woods....

Tomorrow is my first Spring trip to my grandparents' house! Every year I anticipate the ease of Spring and Summer country living, in a place so secluded that in order to find it you have to know where you're going, warm and breezy on the front porch, bursts of color everywhere you look. My camera will be my companion on my walks around the yard, surprising the butterflies and spiders and frogs that are usually ignored by us cumbersome humans that bound through their secrets spaces, always with our own agendas that seldom include them. Baggins lives for his trips to Mamaw and Papaw's house, especially our walks in the field down to where the old pond used to sit, before Papaw decided he should fill it, years ago. Mom and I will stroll down the narrow roads, admiring the wildflowers now showing their faces anywhere dirt will hold them, and look for the spots where blackberries will grow in the quickly-approaching summer. I think I've pretty much figured out how to post from my Blackberry (the seedless, digital kind,) so I hope to be making a few short posts along the way. Here's a picture of me and my Mamaw Hildy, the sweetest lady in the world, at my Aunt BB's house at Christmas. She and I have some catching up to do, and we're going to do it on the porch!

"American Idol" does "Ave Maria,"

Schubert's ode to the Virgin Mary, "Ave Maria," regardless of its religious implications, is one of the world's most beautiful songs. When sung by a woman with an angelic voice, it stirs emotion in my guts, even though I haven't a clue what they're saying. Celine Dion's version brings tears to my eyes; it's perfect, flawless. Kelly Clarkson sang this masterpiece for the Pope just the other day, and I'm sharing it with you because it is so moving and powerful, I think you deserve to experience it! "Ave Maria" seems otherworldly when I close my eyes, there's a serenity that I can't explain.

2nd try

Trying again to blog from email!
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Top that, Jeopardy!

Be sure to tune in to NBC this Monday night and catch president Bush on "Deal Or No Deal!" Captain Joseph Kobes, who has served in Iraq three times and has been the recipient of the Purple Heart as well as the Bronze Star, will be trying his luck at the popular game show in hopes of winning enough money to pay off his parents' home. A pre-taped video clip of Bush will air, thanking Captain Kobes for his service and wishing him luck in the game. Can you even believe this? I find it bizarre, yet strangely fitting in these days, when Comedy Central has our presidential hopefuls interviewed on parody shows which are followed by "South Park," or "Kenny Vs. Spenny." I remember in 1992 when I saw Bill Clinton play the sax on "The Late Show" and, for the first time in my short years, realized the president was human. This new accessible president idea still shocks me sometimes. After giving it some thought, I believe it to be a good thing, a narrowing of the gap maybe, and damn fine breeding ground for jokes!
FYI: This picture of the president dancing with the Kankouran West African Dance Co., was taken at a Malaria Awareness Day event at the White House.
Factoid: 66 countries across the world are currently airing a version of the game show we Americans call, "Deal Or No Deal," including China, Poland, Zimbabwe, and Morocco!

Cock of the Walk

While sipping sweet tea out of my little silver tin cup, I began reading the short bits of information on the walls and brown-paper-bag type menu of my favorite catfish spot, Cock Of The Walk. These folks have perfected the art of frying the infamous bottom-feeders, one of the loves of any real Mississippian's lives, and they serve it up with hush puppies, fries, cole slaw, greens, marinated onions, and cornbread that has, prior to being served, been the star of a table-side show put on by your server. Your server is decked out in garb reminiscent and reflective of this information that, once you notice it, seems to cover the wooden half of the partly glass walls of the joint, which look out onto the moving water of the reservoir. Mike Fink is a name that's printed on many of these wooden signs filled with quotes and tidbits and factoids, and the one that first caught my eye says, Fink liked to say he was, "half horse and half alligator, with a fire-eating devil thrown in." Wow! Those are mighty big words from an awfully self-confident man, so I decided to do a little investigating and see where this information takes me, and it has taken me all the way to the Natchez Trace. Men like Mike Fink made their livings by moving merchandise up and down the MS and Pearl rivers (among others, like the TN) and the only ground route North out of MS to Nashville, TN, and beyond, was the Natchez Trace. The Trace got its start as a path made from bison travelling North to Nashville to find salt licks in the area. The Native Americans, specifically the Cherokee, Choctaw, and Chickasaw, broadened the path by using it extensively and introduced it to the Europeans who began to trickle in. At that point it was simply a path, and in 1801 the US Armed Forces claimed it for a postal route and major work began on the Trace to prepare it as a main artery for travel. By 1809, the trail was finally fully functioning and navigable by wagon. Thus began much of Mississippi history, from Washington, MS's first capital, "old Greenville," which was made famous by Andrew Jackson, Natchez, and Port Gibson. Men poured into the area motivated by personal desires, each and every one looking to gain something from this new opportunity, and many of these men were tough when they got there, but maybe not as tough as they thought. The vast majority of the hopeful men who came to work the rivers left defeated or in a pine box. The Trace and the rivers I referred to held hands in many respects, for they were used by the same people much of the time. The keelboatmen, like Mike Fink, who were running merchandise up the rivers, were dangerous men, known for their hard-drinking and trigger-happy lifestyles, as they had to fight continuously for their lives and livelihoods, and the baddest of them all was known as the Cock of the Walk. He wore a red turkey feather in his hat, and was respected as the leader, and to buck the system meant not returning home. Many of these men who worked the rivers would take their goods to "Natchez Under-the-Hill," (as opposed to the real city of Natchez atop the river bluff) which was where the MS river boats docked, and get their pockets stuffed with cash, which they promptly spent at the many brothels, bars, and gambling halls that lined the streets. It was the same on the Trace as it was in the old West, the killing and drinking and debauchery, though you never hear of it or see movies with ole Mike Fink, Cock of the Walk, portrayed by Clint Eastwood or John Wayne. Of course, the missionaries came, hoping to save these men of sin, and they became large in number, converting anyone who'd listen, including the Native Americans. Large gangs began to run operations outside the cities along the Trace, forming the country's first real organized crime rings. But the Natchez Trace was short-lived because of the popularity and modern improvements in water-bound trade and travel, and in 1830 the Trace was officially abandoned as a road. Now we as Mississippians know it as the Natchez Trace Parkway, 444 miles of modern road that follows a close approximation of the original route, parts of which are still accessible. So as I washed down the last of my tarter sauce-dipped fish with my sweet tea and got ready to leave, I pictured my waiter, a young guy of about 20, with the rest of the vast majority of dejected, disappointed men who failed in their quest for money and notoriety, heads bowed, travelling back up the Trace towards home. I imagined them trying to make sense of it all, and trying to figure out how to explain their failure to their wives and families when they finally saw them, as they attempted to avoid bandits and danger on their return travel, eventually telling their grandchildren about Mike Fink, and how he could "out-run, out-jump, out-shoot, out-brag, out-drink, and out-fight, rough and tumble, no holds barred, any man on both sides of any river, down and back again."

Child rearing manual for plastic surgery addicts?

Been looking for the perfect gift idea for that friend with Body Dysmorphic Disorder: "My Beautiful Mommy," by Florida plastic surgeon, Dr. Michael Salzhauer, sets out to explain to children why Mommy is getting a tummy tuck, nose job, and breast implants. Luckily, the children's book will be coming out sometime around Mother's Day, which may be when many Mommies get such presents from Daddies. The tummy tuck and nose job get a deliberate explanation, but not the boob job. The author says, "I tried to skirt that issue in the text itself. The tummy lends itself to an easy explanation to the children: extra skin and can't fit into your clothes. The breasts might be a stretch for a six year old." Mommy tells her little girl, "You see, as I got older, my body stretched and I couldn't fit into my clothes anymore. Dr. Michael is going to help fix that and make me feel better." Hey Mom, BUY NEW CLOTHES! I can only imagine what reaction I would have had as a child....freaking out when my jeans got tight! Please don't send me to evil Dr. Michael who will cut your body to bits just to save money on those costly new clothes. I mean, why else would you not just buy new clothes? (I think I would say!) Mommy doesn't tell her daughter in the book why she's getting her nose done, though she does let her know it won't just look "different, my dear - prettier." Is it me or is this like a freaking "Twilight Zone" episode? "The Stepford....." Mother? After Mommy's mysterious absence and wildly unnecessary surgical procedures, she comes home good as new, just sporting a couple of small, feminine little bandages on her nose and around her waist. Remember, no one told her kid about the breast implants, but maybe she will notice the much larger load Mom's carrying up top now, as is fully present in the illustrations. In the end everyone is happy, because Mommy is "even more" beautiful than before. Somebody slap me and say this is a joke! Sadly, it's true, and it will probably be a popular item on the shelves of Hollywood's little ones!

P.S. Forgive my typo in the last post: I forgot the "s" in prostitute.

Rudy Huxtable?

From cute to protitute!

Out with the old....

In my grandparents' back bedroom, my cousin, Elizabeth, and I would hang out whenever she came south to visit. She grew up in a nice little suburb of Memphis, which was a whole 6 hours away, so we valued the time we shared. There was an old cassette/radio player on which we would listen to my Mamaw's tapes, mainly Dolly Parton. We would also play charades, and sleep on layers and layers of old blankets piled on the floor, which we called a pallett, even though there was a perfectly good bed looking down at us in the dark. But the two songs I remember loving most on that Dolly album were "Jolene," and "Islands In The Stream." Well, Perezhilton put a cover of Kenny Rogers' and Miss Dolly's duet on his site, done by two Canadian bands, Feist and the Constantines. You can hardly tell it's the same song, but it strikes the same chord in me as the original and forces me to listen to it over and over. And it makes me think of Pooh, who is back in Memphis after almost 10 years of living in NYC, and that room, which was plenty big back then, and now is tiny and the echos of "Jolene" almost forgotten. You HAVE to listen to this song! http://perezhilton.com/2008-04-15-listen-to-this-islands

Seedless Blackberries

So many things to say and no time to say them! Since my little blog got started I've posted at least one thing per day I thought was worth saying, and tonight I just can't and will have to post that declaration. I will say that FINALLY I got a Blackberry and I'm so excited, it opens up so many possibilities. Tomorrow I'll be back with an opinion on something, don't you worry. jody

Government interference or government rescue?

My admiration of Western Europe began in 1992 when I made a dear friend who is from Spain, and because of that relationship I've been privy to a special kind of insider's view of her world, a world which is in many ways quite similar to our own as Americans, yet different enough to fascinate and surprise me at every turn. A universal phenomenon, very literally, is the fragile and delicate relationship a woman has with herself and her body and her perception of it; one which changes in the blink of an eye, and depends on innumerable factors, not the least of which is "am I attractive?" As Americans, the odds that we are overweight are 2 in 3. But half of American women are trying to lose weight at any given time, and the paradox is in the disparity between the facts of our fatness and the money we spend on diet foods that obviously fail to live up to our expectations. As fat as we are, women, and most dangerously, young girls, are force fed the "must be skinny to be loved" story before they even learn "Little Red Robin Hood." So if we're looking around at one another and we see love handle after love handle, and cellulite at every turn, where are these images of thin=beautiful coming from? Western Europe has always been miles ahead of the game in fashion, and it trickles down to us in images from the media. A little more than a year ago, a huge fashion event was taking place in Spain, and their government made a decision to BAN sickly-skinny models, those with too low a BMI, from taking their turn at the catwalk. People were outraged! I was actually in Spain when the rule was enforced that store mannequins had to be of a healthy size, and the Burger King triple-decker with cheese, so popular in the US, was not allowed to be advertised or promoted, and was eventually taken off the market. The point to this post comes down to the French government's response to all this hype, which is a new bill the French Parliament has already approved unanimously and is set to go up for approval in the French Senate in the weeks to come. This bill would make it illegal to "publicly promote extreme thinness," and "any media outlet encouraging extreme weight loss punishable in court." This would mean that all media, including newspapers, magazines, websites, etc. could and would be liable in court to a judge, and if found guilty of "inciting others to deprive themselves of food" could be imprisoned or fined up to $47,000. This is France! Mother of Couture! The President of the French Federation of Couture, Didier Grumbach, says, "Never will we accept in our profession that a judge decides if a young girl is skinny or not skinny. That doesn't exist in the world and it will certainly not exist in France." Unfortunately this all bubbled up and came to a head more than a year ago when a Brazilian model died of anorexia, and her sister, the girl in the photo, died from it as well. Who can protect women from this shameful disease of self-hatred and bizarrely warped body image issues? The government? My opinion is that, while I admire Spain and now France for making a powerful effort and astoundingly LOUD statement against self harm in an effort to be accepted, it must be us as individuals who promote acceptance of ourselves and each other every single day in every single situation. We HAVE to teach our little girls from the time they're aware of themselves and their bodies that beauty comes from within, e.g. how we treat others, how we treat ourselves, how we take care of ourselves, how we educate ourselves, how we love others and ourselves. And that being and looking different is something to be proud of and enjoy, and the only shame is in mistreatment of ourselves and those around us. The media may be partly to blame, b/c when you open a magazine the people who fill the pages are the exception in this country where body types are concerned. The women on TV and movies are put into fat suits to portray obese characters, instead of obese actresses being hired to play the role. Women in the media simply do not look like the average American woman, and some, esp. the young, fall prey to this misconception and grasp this deception and hold on tight, believing the answers to their pitiful self-esteem are in mirroring these "People" magazine phantoms who do not even really exist. They chase these ghosts, and sadly, often become one. jody

Tiny Hawk - Skateboarder

This video clip is just brilliant on SO many levels! Too common are the stories about negligent fathers who waste their kids' formative years on work or partying, but Dads do exist who spend their free time with their children, teaching and learning. This man, Bart Saric, and his son, Odin, have been working on 4 yr. old Odin's skateboarding skills since before he was even 1. This kid is so impressive, he's been trained to be confident and natural on the skateboard, and I'm sure that confidence will spill out into the rest of his life. Because when parents teach their kids they can succeed in one area, they usually succeed in other areas as well. The bond between this father and son just makes me so happy. And this little boy is going to break records one day! jody

Man's best friend

Who is your best friend? If you have a dog, most likely you immediately thought of him/her, b/c the unconditional love we get from a pooch surpasses any we get from humans. I heard a joke the other day, saying you know who loves you most when you put your wife and your dog in the trunk of a car. Guess who's happy to see you when you open the trunk! My Baggins isn't the most affectionate dog in the world, but let me start crying and he comes from wherever he is in the house to comfort me by licking my face, and he's not there to fix me, he's just there to say, "I care." There are 65 million dogs in the US, and it costs on average of $4, 476 to raise one to 12 years old, which is the average life span of a dog today, as opposed to 7 years in 1930. Dogs generally sleep 14 hours/day, and there are 8 1/2 daily dog attacks on mailmen, occuring most often in Indiana! Labrador retrievers are the most popular dog breed in the US, we all know someone who has one. The most intelligent dog breeds are: border collies, poodles, and german shepherds; the least intelligent breeds are bulldogs, basenjis, and afghan hounds (Barbie's dog.) The intelligence level of the ave. dog is equivalent to a 2 year old child's, and they can understand about 200 words. 70% of people believe their dogs would risk their life for them, and around 27% of Americans mention their dogs in their wills. There were 9 dogs on board the Titanic, and 3 survived as a result of their owners getting them on board a life raft. One lady, Elizabeth Rothschild, got her pup on the raft resulting in her husband's death! The relationship of man and dog is as old as man and dog. Baggins is asleep in his chair not even 5 feet from me, with his trusting little eyes closed and his belly rising and falling as he gets in his 14 daily hours. What would we do without them? jody

FYI

I was so amazed by this news that I had to share it! Just so you know, this man, Dr. Phil McGraw, raked in $90 million dollars in 2007, according to Parade Magazine's, "What People Earn." It's official, Oprah Winfrey is magic! Everything she touches turns to gold, she is the modern Midas. jody

Why, girls? Why?

This whole thing is so wrong for so many reasons I can't count them all. Beginning with the Osmands, straight through the worthless questions and nonsensical answers, all the way to the winners package given to the deserving lucky lady who smiled the longest, made the most eye contact with the judges, looked the prettiest while parading around the stage in a MOST demeaning manner, answered her question with enough sense just to be understood, and whose parents had enough money to buy her lessons, costumes and seriously twisted ideas of self-esteem and what it means to be a woman. All this to be crowned, MISS USA! Is this what we want our little girls to grow up and aspire to become? The title Miss USA should belong to the young woman who works her butt off in school studying and writing articles in the school paper, playing sports and being a friend to those who aren't quite as fortunate as her for one reason or another. Ask these girls questions like, "What does having a woman as a strong candidate for president mean for the future of women in politics?" Or maybe, "How do you plan to make a positive difference in the world when you get out of school and into the workforce?" Not, Are you for or against beauty products for girls in elementary school! Or worse, what celebrity would you help if you could! Miss TX walked away with a cultured pearl and diamond crown and tiara, a luxury NYC apt., designer shoes, clothes and swimwear, fashion denim, spa vacation, and a scholarship to NY Film Academy's 2 yr. acting or film making programs worth $100,000. And Marie Osmand had to add, "All this and memories to last a lifetime." Where in the world has feminism gone? Not to MS, b/c she had the stupidest answer of all five unfortunate-minded young women. My hope is that my opinion on this sad state of affairs is a popular one, and this sort of antiquated flesh parade is on its way out. jody

Hungry Wrens

This precious little baby is part of a family of 5 wrens that have built an amazingly lovely and functional nest in a potted plant near the backdoor leading to the porch. It's a lively, vibrant contrast to the wilted, dying mother-in-law tongue plant that occupies the rest of the space. The 3 teeny hatchlings are only a few days old, and their largest attribute is their mouths, which they open wide in anticipation of the worms and bugs my eyes often catch the parents carrying to them in their own beaks. Often I feel guilty when I walk through the door and onto the porch, b/c the hungry babies mistake my noise for the sounds of a yummy lunch delivery. I'm amazed at how loud they cry when letting Mom and Dad know exactly where their hungry little mouths are! The babies should take well over two weeks to gain its first efforts of independence, so I'll try to watch them grow as best I can without causing the feathered family any trouble or stress. You can sorta see in this picture if you look closely how undeveloped its features are, so it is very new indeed. What a trusting couple of expectant parents to hand pick (so to speak) this meager, sad-looking little plant with almost no cover to build its nest! Then there are the big, noisy, clumsy-acting humans passing by and by and by what is quite possibly the most important task of their entire lives, the perfectly constructed home filled with life, life which they created so that it can all happen again next year. Springtime is just the happiest season of all! jody

Who's getting your vote?

The Giants of the North

Is it just me or are dwarfs everywhere nowadays? There are two shows on one of the Discovery channels which showcase families with some or all dwarf (or little people, not sure which is more accepted by that community) members, and the Roloff family from, "Little People, Big World, is the coolest family on TV! I've never seen a more communicative family, and so proactive! It seems we are living in an age where people are simply exhausted from bending, twisting and almost breaking to fit into popular culture. It seems we as people with mental illnesses aren't the only ones who insist on breaking the stigma that holds us down, like a bully on the playground restraining the skinny kid. Dwarfs have always had it rough where stereotyping is concerned, always being the butt of jokes. Well Brazilian dwarfs have had enough of it and, in an effort to raise the profile of dwarfs in Brazilian society, have formed the world's first all-dwarf soccer team! There are 18 members on the roster, averaging about 4 feet tall. They've qualified for the "Guinness Book of World Records," and their team name is The Giants of the North. This is such a feel-good story.....go Giants! Below is a news clip of them playing against the under-13 Brazilian soccer team.

http://www.redlasso.com/ClipPlayer.aspx?id=6a849f26-834e-454a-a30d-9504c94cb5ea

Joanie, how could you? (could be offensive)

I happen to be a lover of all things ironic, and the best irony is that which is most shocking. When I came across this video clip I nearly snarfed the water I was drinking right out of my nose! We can all remember the iconic American family, the Cunninghams, on "Happy Days," because of the memorable characters we all grew to love. Their personalities were sealed in stone and as unquestionable as the theme song itself which I can still hear in my head: "Sunday, Monday, Happy Days, Tuesday, Wednesday, Happy Days...These happy days are yours and mine, Happy Days!" The Fonz was cool, Richie was a squeeky clean American teen, the Cunninghams were perfect, loving parents, and Joanie loved Chachie! Well imagine my surprise, more like dumbfounded amazement, when I saw this video of Erin Moran, the woman who played Joanie, on "Celebrity Fit Club," behind the scenes behaving very differently than she did on "Happy Days!" Remember the famous scene in "When Harry Met Sally," when Meg Ryan made movie history in a NYC deli? It's probably the only scene you DO remember, and one you recognize even if you didn't sit through the entire thing. Joanie! What were you thinking?! Joanie has left the building....enter Erin.....good girls gone bad! Here it is if you'd like to experience its craziness......

http://www.brightcove.tv/title.jsp?title=1496480516

Testing 1, 2...

My last post, Kylie Minogue's song, Speakerphone, was posted on accident! I was fooling around with youtube and blogging directly from that site and I used that just as a test! But if you want to listen to it, it's so fun and happy. The whole song is about speakerphones and tech stuff in general, but the lyrics are irrelevent, really. It's guaranteed to make you smile, BUT it was a mistake, so........there ya go. jody

Kylie Minogue - Speakerphone

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Mentoring

Tomorrow marks the first of four days I will be leading a Peer to Peer class for NAMI. My awesome friend, Jamie, the cutie in the red shirt, and I will be teaching together again for the second time. Another friend will be teaching as well, and I think the three of us will work together wonderfully. Peer to Peer is an educational program taught through NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness. It is led by three "mentors," peers who are living well with mental illness, and is a structured program intended to educate others with mental illnesses who may need help and assistance with learning about their diseases and how to live well daily in spite of them. The class will be Thursday and Friday from 5pm - 8pm, then again on Monday and Tuesday 5pm - 8pm. I've met a few people who will be attending the class, and I believe that they will all be excited and thankful that they participated. Taking the Peer to Peer class myself made such a huge difference in my life, and the main difference was HOPE. Meeting so many people who have suffered the same hell as I have, laughing and joking about issues I never knew other people experienced, turned me into a more confident person. I've always heard there is strength in numbers, and through NAMI I've found this to be undoubtedly true. NAMI has given me back the enthusiasm to contribute, the willingness to believe in my future, and assurance that Bipolar I Disorder was not successful in stealing my plans for living a full and healthy life. I've always said that serious mental illness is a thief that comes in like a ghost and snatches your dreams and plans and everything you love right out of your hands, and before you know it, your hands are empty and all you can do is stare at the nothing that they hold. But NAMI has given me the ability to wrestle some hope back away from that thief, and that is a powerful tool with which to start to rebuild my life. jody

Age of Innocence

When my Mom asks me to watch or read things on the internet, I generally expect us to have conflicting views and reactions to its content. My parents are devout Southern Baptists, and I consider myself an agnostic. This fact causes them pain and anguish over the fate of my soul, and though they respect me by giving me space, they sometimes ask me to read or watch certain things pertaining to Christianity. Today was one of those days, Mom had received an email with a link to a video of a two year old Asian girl singing, "The Lord's Prayer." I agreed to watch it and found myself having an unusual and very emotional reaction to the child and the words she sang. As a two year old girl, she was merely repeating a behavior she'd had a favorable reaction to, probably so much so that she sings the song willingly, every chance she gets, to receive the attention and praise. My point is that even though she sings the words over and over, time and time again, she does not understand their meaning, as the words to "The Lord's Prayer" are too difficult for a child to understand considering their limited experience with life and death. So when the child sang the words, "deliver us from evil," I suddenly and without warning began to cry. It struck me how beautiful it is and how very temporary that this girl sings "deliver us from evil" without having any clue, any remote idea of what evil even is. The word evil meant no more harm to her than the three words that precluded it, "deliver us from." What a phenomenal concept, to not know evil and to never have experienced it. This girl's eyes gave away her innocence, and it moved me.

Durga returns?

When Vinod Singh and his wife learned of her pregnancy, they could never have guessed she would give birth to what the people of the Indian village, Saini Sunpura, believe to be the reincarnation of the Hindu goddess of valor, Durga. Their daughter, Lali, has an extremely rare condition in which a single head has two faces. Known as craniofacial duplication, this unusual deformity causes the child to have two of everything except ears: two noses, two pairs of eyes, two sets of lips. Her parents report she is drinking milk from both mouths and is opening and closing all four eyes at once. As fascinating as this condition is and the possibilities and questions it creates in the mind, the aspect of the story I find most interesting is the reaction by the villagers, who visit her home every day hoping to touch her feet out of respect and get blessings, leaving her money. A member of the local village council, Jaipal Singh, says, "Lali is God's gift to us. She has brought fame to our village." Often this condition is associated with many serious health complications, but by all reports Lali is healthy. The cultural differences are mind-boggling! Lali is lucky to have been born in India, b/c in the US she would never be accepted. Here we seem to worship beauty above all else, and having two faces just isn't very beautiful by American standards. Yet the simple fact that she was born in a Hindu nation will remove the inevitable stigma of deformity and replace it with reverence and respect. Amazing!

Youtube: Forum of the future

The universe of the Internet plays a part in the lives of most all citizens of the developed world, as both a comfortable respite from drudgery, as well as an invaluable and indispensable tool for many whose occupations depend on it. I, myself, have come to depend on the Internet for many things: correspondence with friends and family, instant information on any topic I find interesting at the time, which leads to education, new ideas, and last but certainly not least, entertainment. Entertainment on the Internet has an unfathomable reach, so with just a click you can surely find the waters on which to float your proverbial boat. Now the answer to all my entertainment needs, the website of all websites, is youtube.com. Youtube truly is the forum of the future, where the idealized "level playing field" actually exists, and anyone with a camcorder can become a superstar. People post on youtube for as many reasons as there are people who post: musicians hoping to be heard, teenage angst expressed in anger and puppy love, searching for the popularity in cyberspace they have not found in real life, parents showing off how cute they think their kids are, dog and cat owners sharing their special pets' tricks, wannabe movie directors making short videos to showcase their work, and the list goes on and on and on. And then there are the clips from every show you've ever loved and thought you'd never see again. For instance, yesterday I viewed clips from "The Muppet Show," which I used to watch as a child, and got to relive my love of Beaker as I listened to his high-pitched language only he understands. Today I watched "The Golden Girls," a video of strung-together photos of my favorite actress set to music, the music chosen by the random everyday person just like me, who now lives with options we never had even a few years ago. I can watch music videos instantly of any artist I choose, unlike when I was in high school and we actually had to wait until they VJs played them! The possibilities are endless with this lovely place we call youtube, what are you going to do with it?

Nightime Springtime

All my suspicions, all my "could it really be's" have been laid to rest by indisputable evidence of the fact that....IT'S REALLY SPRINGTIME! On Baggins' nightly walk we were convinced of winter's departure by a series of small but certain clues, clues that I think are worth sharing. A sort of "you know it's springtime when:" the sidewalks are covered in small white pebbles of grass fertilizer crunching beneath your feet, while you assume whomever's sidewalk is most littered, the greener their grass. To some people living in subdivisions, that is the equivalent of winning an Oscar. As I passed the house of a neighbor I received my very first sprinkler-spraying of the year, as the runoff created wide and shallow pools of water in between their yard's two pines. Another great clue is manifested in my dog's behavior, and that is the maniacal eating of the year's newest grass, the grass so green it's almost blue. Trees now have collected so many young, healthy leaves that I have to search a little harder to find the moon between them. The desperate chirping of multitudes of frogs, you know, the ones you rarely see, calling out to one another surely says the cold has passed. I even saw several slugs, I happen to be one of those rare people who think they are beautiful and fascinating, with their shiny trails betraying their comings and goings. And the lonely buzz of a beetle's wings against the cement as it desperately, yet pointlessly tries to flip itself over onto its feet, makes me remember they are the one insect I dread most from the new warmth, except of course the mosquito; happily I've avoided those little vampires as yet. The loveliest reminder of this new spring, the season of rebirth and optimism, are the little white clover flowers that in tonight's darkness appeared like small points of light shining through the grass, reminding me of a starry sky. jody

Scientology: A growing threat to psychiatry

As I've mentioned before and will again, persons with mental illnesses live under an unusual brand of scrutiny, and are very often misunderstood and falsely labeled by the uneducated public. One such label, and perhaps the most dangerous for us, is the idea that mentally ill people are violent, moreso than the average citizen, and can at any time snap and murder an innocent person unlucky enough to have crossed our path. The truth is that serious mental illness carries a significantly lower threat of violence than people believe, only 3% - 5% of overall violence in the US. The truth is that persons without mental illness who are substance abusers cause the majority of violence in our country and are nearly 7 times more likely to exhibit violent behavior! (These statistics come from the "New England Journal of Medicine") So it is a terrible lie that mentally ill people are violent and should be feared. But the 3% - 5% of mentally ill people who commit violent acts, such as murder, may not be getting treatment for their illness. Tom Cruise has used his fame to promote his cult, Scientology, and their adament disapproval and attempted discreditation of psychiatry, and therefore, psychiatric patients. You may remember his insults to Matt Lauer and hateful comments on Brooke Shields when she disclosed her struggle with postpardum depression. This brings me, finally, to the point of this post. A young woman in New South Wales has pled not guilty to the murder of her father and sister, who were devout Scientologists. The then 24 year old stabbed her father and sister to death, and also injured her mother, all while suffering what they referred to as "significant psychotic illness." She sought treatment more than once but was denied b/c of her family's involvement and devotion to Scientology. She was refused treatment for "significant psychotic illness!" Anyone who is unlucky enough to have lived through a psychotic episode knows the brain in psychosis cannot be trusted, it is chemical, not emotional. Scientology urges members not to trust mental health professionals, and campaigns against psychiatry in every capacity. So who is to be held responsible for the deaths of these people? The now 25 year old daughter suffering from an untreated psychotic disorder?! Not no, but HELL NO! Scientology? Because of the fame and celebrity status of Tom Cruise and others (John Travolta, Kirstie Alley, etc.) the ideas and beliefs of Scientology are being heard by a very large audience. We MUST continue to speak out on our own behalf and speak louder than those whose ignorance portrays us as anything other than what we are: persons with a brain disorder who contribute great things to society and always have throughout history. Break the stigma! jody

Seriously cool video mash-up!

As I age I begin to love anything that makes me feel young again, anything that brings up those feelings time seems to slowly and quietly take from you. You don't even know they've gone missing until you come across something that throws you effortlessly into the confident joys of youth, and this song and video DOES IT! It takes me back to the days of going out and acting stupid, and doing it again the next night. It's a remix of the new Madonna/Justin Timerlake video for "4 Minutes" and Janet Jackson's video for "Feedback." Watch and listen, believe me, you'll feel like dancing again!

http://perezhilton.com/2008-04-06-divalicious

Mississippi: First in artificial insemination?

As a Southerner, you grow up peppered with strange and amazing stories of the gloried Civil War. Although most of the world's population believes the war to have been fought for one reason only: the push and shove over the policy of slavery. Of course it is not that simple, considering the South's pride in maintaining state's rights. Still though, most of the information I have on the war has been gathered in bits from books and childhood visits to places like Vicksburg, where they're more than willing to share with you their own interpretations of that most bloody and shadowy war that forever changed the perceptions of the faces of Southerners.
But that is not what this story is about, it is merely a pretext to begin a strange and wonderful true story that I first heard in a museum in Vickburg in 1986 when I was in 6th grade. Just today I ran across it again and had to share it with you! This fascinating story ran in the "American Medical Weekly" on November 7, 1874 and was then published in a prestigious British medical journal, "The Lancet." (Which sounds menacing, doesn't it?!) Dr. L.G. Capers of Vicksburg, MS, experienced this most amazing incident during the late Civil War. A mother and her two intensely patriotic daughters, ages 15 and 17, were more than willing to care for the Confederate soldiers wounded in a battle on May 12, 1863. On the scene a young Confederate, known for his gallent and noble nature, let out a yell and fell to the ground. Nearby, the older daughter on the scene to care for the wounded let out a scream. Dr. Capers examined this soldier and found that a bullet had penetrated his scrotum and carried with it his left testicle. This SAME bullet had entered the abdomen of the young lady between her belly button and front hipbone and was trapped there. After successful treatment for peritonitis, she miraculously gave birth to a beautiful baby boy 278 days after she was wounded by the stray bullet. Of course her family was mortified, and she begged her loved ones to trust in her innocence and virginity. Three weeks after the birth, the good doctor responded to a call from the family about a defect with the baby's genitals. Upon examination the doctor noticed a swollen and painful scrotum containing some hard substance. In an operation on the boy, Dr. Capers extracted a battered bullet! This determined bullet that carried away the soldier's testicle had pierced the ovary of the patriotic young lady, so eager to care for the wounded, and impregnated her! The doctor went directly to the young man, the father of this miracle child, and shared with him the news of his fatherhood. Naturally skeptical at first, the soldier met with the new mother and a friendship and subsequent marriage enused, which produced two more children. The latter two children were conceived by the traditional method! The moral of the story? Flying testicles are the answer to infertility! OR: If you are a believer in fate, this would make a powerful and convincing argument in your favor!

Charlton Heston Dies at 84

Charlton Heston died tonight in his home in Beverly Hills. He was born October 4, 1924, in Evanston, IL, and became a living legend. He won the Best Actor Oscar in 1959 for "Ben-Hur," and became known for portraying mainly heroic figures in the popular movie epics in the '50s and '60s. Heston played Moses, Michelangelo, El Cid and others in a career that spanned over 60 years. He became president of the National Rifle Association in 1998, and held that position until 2003, after revealing in 2002 he had Alzheimer's disease. These aren't the best pictures in the world, but they're all I could find! Do they let you bring guns into heaven?

"There's no place like home!"

My day began with working the registration booth at the NAMI MS convention, and meeting many involved and influential people in the area of mental heath. After all were registered, my friend, Jamie, and I went out for a little lunch and shopping. The sky above the parking lot of the Shoe Gallery looked ominous, black and eery with an unusual feeling in the air. We looked at eachother and remarked on how dangerous it looked. Entering that store I was totally unaware of the bizarre experience I was about to have! A store employee, diligent and serious in her task, rushed us all, customers as well as her fellow employees, to the back of the store, near the bathrooms. There was about 25 or so of us, and as we grouped and huddled together an older black man on my right grabbed my hand and announced he was going to say a word of prayer. Suddenly everyone it seemed was holding hands and as he prayed with a trembling yet vigorous voice, others chanted behind him things like, "yes, lord." Now I am not a religious person, but I was raised strict Southern Baptist, and because of my mixed and confused feelings about this bizarre situation I'd found myself in, I could barely be anxious about my potentially iminent loss of life and limb due to a tornado. The one that was spotted on the ground very near this shoe store I found myself in. When his prayer was finished, as he quietly continued to call out to god, the murmering of the others as we moved into the bathroom began to point my psyche in the direction of self preservation and my adreneline began pumping (gotta love that flight or fight!) Suddenly, as I noticed how terrified others were, I began to feel fear myself. There was a young lady in the bathroom with us, maybe a teenager, I never saw her b/c the power was out, who was very emotional and cried. Poeple were calling loved ones like it was 9/11, spilling out expressions of love, just in case the roof was torn off Shoe Gallery and they were sucked into the atmosphere. There was a roaring noise (when I could hear it over my heartbeat) and also the shotgun spray-sounding hail that hell had unleashed on, in my opinion, one of the best shoe stores in town! After it all died down and we left, we found Ridgeland in complete disarray and traffic impossible. My Dad works for Entergy and told us over 80,000 people in MS were without power, so he'll be a ghost around here until that is settled. He let me in on a little secret, one which I'm thankful I didn't know while I stood skin-to-skin with other shoe shoppers. Most people who die in tornados are crushed by debris, mainly by their roof caving in. That never dawned on me and I went through a very traumatic experience with very little trauma. My worst regret is that they don't carry the brand of shoes I'm desperately searching for! jody

Pregnant Man?

Here's a story bound to test anyone's preconceived notions on gender and the boundless questions that accompany them. Thomas Beatie, born Tracy, is a transgendered man who never went through with the complete sexual reassignment surgery, he opted to keep his female organs. When his wife of many years couldn't carry a baby, they decided he would. He has been ridiculed and humiliated in many ways by many people, including medical professionals. I am a very openminded and accepting person and thought I couldn't be shocked, but this blows me away! Here he is on Oprah today, it's a seven minute long interview I got on perezhilton if you'd like to see for yourself. Technology raises some very, interesting questions!

http://perezhilton.com/2008-04-03-the-pregnant-man-on-oprah

"There is nothing more frightful....

than ignorance in action." Johann von Goethe, German writer

For a person living with serious mental illness, there are very few thoughts more horrific than that of the insane asylum. For many reasons, (reasons enough for an entry on its own) the insane asylum of legend is a thing of the past, but not so distant past. This is a picture of a window in the interior of St. Elizabeth's hospital in Washington, D.C., formerly known as the Government Hospital for the Insane. Out of this very window gazed the brilliant poetic mind of Ezra Pound from 1946 - 1958. In my "Stigma Busters" email today from NAMI I read an extremely unfortunate article about a man named Joe Jordon, who bought an abandoned psychiatric hospital in West Virginia. He is planning to use the property as an attraction for such things as a "Hospital of Horrors" at Halloween, and to build a "Pyscho Path" for dirt bike races. To use hundreds of peoples' tortured pasts as a method to make money and get laughs is incomprehensible and deplorable. And it brings up something I read last week from the AP. Ghost hunters in Iowa have been given the go-ahead to spend one night in a one-time insane asylum to check for spirits or other bizarre happenings, even though there have never, ever been reports of such in this building. Their only basis for choosing this building as a site to hunt for paranormal activity is its past with housing the "insane." I find this an insult of great magnitude! Are crazy ghosts a bigger fish to show off than a ghost with a past of tuberculosis or polio? And to put a face on the effects of stigma associated with mental illness, my grandmother's blatently obvious mental illness has gone untreated even till this day. She is 78 years old and lives in hell and so do those who attempt to have a close relationship with her, b/c she refuses any psychiatric help. I see my own past's tortures reflected in her eyes when she talks in circles, each sentence more nonsensical than the last. Thanks to NAMI and all the people who fight each day to live with dignity and defiance of the labels others have thrust upon us. Stigma Busters!!!! jody

Jelly Bean Sky

A day like today deserves a picture like this to represent its jolly emotion! All day shopping and a (and I do not say this lightly) perfect lunch at my new favorite place, Jeruselem Cafe. It's excellent middle eastern cuisine, though I do feel odd being served hummus and falafel by a Mexican. No insult intended! Mom and I both got lucky with cute outfits and giggled all day long as we sucked down frappicinos, hers mocha and mine chai. The shoe store closed its doors before I got to get my new summer Birks, though, and there was a giant cop party in the lot....at least 5, with no strife in sight! Thanks to god for the end of the writers' strike, for the shows I love have returned. And there's only 1/3 of my bag of jelly beans left from Easter....when they're gone summer will arrive, I already feel its breath on my neck. All the pinks are gone, and I'm saving the blacks for last. jody

Filipino Prison Rock!

The Filipino prisoners who ALL, in their killer orange jumpsuits, danced the entire Michael Jackson's "Thriller" routine are BACK! Now they're dancing to the 80's Laura Branigan hit, "Gloria," and it is awesome! Picture this....at least a few hundred prisoners group-dancing in a concrete courtyard. They're all in unison, it's really cool. Forward to 1:00, until then it's a guy talking about something random. Love it! Too bad American prisoners don't do stuff like this instead of killing eachother! http://perezhilton.com/2008-04-02-the-filipino-prisoners-are-back

Who Dat?

Theory # 429 the New Orleans Saints always suck: Because The Saints built the Superdome on the site of the old Girod Street Cemetery, which had up to 30,000 graves!! So after years of failure and disappointment, those in the know began to suspect foul-play-from-beyond, and decided to attempt to rid itself of the curse. How would one do that, you may ask? By hiring a Voodoo preistess from NO name Ava Kay Jones (pretty WASPy sounding name for a voodooist, ya think?) who, with a boa constrictor wrapped around her neck, performed a pregame ritual before a Dec. 30, 2000, playoff game against the Rams. That day the Saints won their very first playoff game in its 33-yr. history!

Factoid: The Fleur-de-lis symbol was chosen for its link to French royalty and nobility.

New Who On The What?

OMG, New Kids On The Block aren't very new anymore, instead they look kinda old. Does this make you feel like someone just slapped your face and you woke up and realized you're as old as the people you used to pity?! These geriatrics will be performing live on The Today Show this Friday morning, if you care. This is the 20th anniversary of "Hanging Tough" which just blows my aging mind!!! NKOTB always reminds me of my KK and Sissy, b/c we went to their concert on the coast and got into a tiff with a woman and her carload of Donnie-rabid teens (it had to be Donnie, he was the wild one, right?!) on the way out. They wanted to kill us for not letting them in front of us! It was so funny, I could almost see the veins on their foreheads poking out they were so freakin' pissed! jody

Sums it up

Today has flown by! The weather ruined our shopping plans, but we're making it up tomorrow. My NAMI meeting was fun tonight, and that just about sums up my day. I don't know where it has gone, and I don't have a real thought that needs to be addressed. But as summer siezes us in it's clammy clutches, it's on my mind that I am, by absolute necessity, going to have to show some skin soon! Something to think about, and this little sign is SO right! jody

Guess Who!

These lovely ladies are two of my favorite childhood TV show icons! You know them, of course, as Marsha Brady and Edna Garrett, from The Brady Bunch and Facts of Life. I love how Mrs. Garrett has paired a nice blue hanky around her neck to go with the blue cactus on her teeshirt! Go Garrett!