Dangermond.org

imbroglio: a complicated and embarrassing state of things.
quandary: a state of difficulty or perplexity

Here’s how a fabulous day is made in New Orleans. My bike is still in the shop from my ditch diving and so I walked the Bean – then knocked on H&T’s door to get them to come clean the bayou with me. Roped a big limb in the bayou (I want to be a cowgirl) and used Big Blue to pull it out and put it on the corner. Several big black bags full and a sense of a mitzvah [the term mitzvah has come to express any act of human kindness, such as the burial of the body of an unknown person] – my mitzvah, picking up other people’s crap.

Then mom cancelled lunch – typical. Alcoholic mothers are emotionally unavailable – I would say this is true of my mother, except she is incapable of keeping appointments more than anything. We had set up lunch on Saturday and at 11:30 on Sunday she called to say she had just had a bowl of cereal so she didn’t want lunch and would catch up with me later. Meanwhile, I just sat and read the paper – trying to cool off after the bayou clean up. I was on the phone with S and decided I was going to the Quarter to support businesses there (someone recently told me the Quarter has been dead lately). While on the phone with S talking about my house quandry, K (the carpenter) called and asked me a question, and I answered and then began talking about another situation at the house and he said, “no Rachel, Steve informed me that all communiques are to go through him so I am just calling about this one question and cannot talk to you about anything else.” I hung up on him.

He called back a couple of times and I didn’t take the call.

All dressed up I went first to UAL – United Apparel Liquidators – fabulous store and I did some retail therapy. Then I strolled over to Muriel’s to look for my ex-brother in law who is part owner. R was on vacation but I sat at the bar and had a delicious bowl of turtle soup and a roasted mushroom salad – yum yum – and a Cosmopolitan. On my left side was a beautiful woman holding her cell phone, obviously waiting for someone. She had a martini. On my right was a mother and daughter, both beautiful – the woman, J, looked like an Eileen Fisher model and her daughter was strikingly modelesque as well. And then the drum roll began – thunder claps that rivaled cannons, lightning that could be detected deep in the bowels of an old French Quarter building, and rain that sounded like Noah was building his ark once again. We all ordered another round of drinks. The beauitful blonde’s friends had arrived and I scooted down by the mother and daughter – J and C – and so we began our talk.

I said I had moved back from California because I missed New Orleans, but what New Orleans had come to mean to me was society – something developed here to such a high pitch that it is inimitable elsewhere. Post Katrina the social fabric has become even more important. We spoke about how we lived for months with just the bare necessities, which taught us that “things” don’t matter. J talked about being 59 and half and having just gotten out of a long term relationship and now having lost her home where she raised her daughter, her three rental properties and her mother’s house. She’s living in a condo uptown with her mother and C is also uptown – in the Isle of Denial. J said she has always been able to pull herself together through most anything but this time she is daunted – so I recommended E to her.

Of course before the conversation was ended we had to get to that one degree of separation. I kept thinking that C looked very familiar and turns out she teaches Pilates at Uncle Joe’s – I said ah that is where I know you from. She started talking about J and seeing her in a few weeks in New York. I said I miss J too (but I didn’t mention that J is sadly for me, now, a casualty from my imbroglio).

I went by the LaLa to do a few things and I found the wood chips that K writes on. One said “get Tai Chi clothes” and I just shook my head. I came home to get the Bean to go to Bacchanal and K called again and this time I answered. Before he could say anything I said “Look I have no room in my apartment for Noah, last night I didn’t sleep and I paced the rooms – rooms that would be two rooms – so I have no room for Noah, also I talked to Steve because I have a full time job and I can’t manage a house remodel and a stressful job so I want to get up and work in the morning and you do your work and if there are questions ask Steve or Dave – because that is why they are here, to offer expert guidance, and I don’t have it in me right now to deal with your emotional baggage.” And so began an almost hour long monologue from K about everything in his life that all got narrowed down in my mind to two things: he said he felt S was taking away his creativity and two he told me that my “feminity is so powerful” that he had to close himself off to parts of me. He also said that Noah believes something is going on between us. OH MY GOD – what is it with the drama in my life? Any father and son duos out there should run for the fucking hills because I am going to get a bow and arrow and next pair that appears on my doorstep I am going to pin to the wall as an example for all others – to NOT COME AROUND ME.

And then Bacchanal – possibly the coolest place in the whole world. The after the storm weather, the Bean by my chair, a garden full of interesting people, music, food, wine, cheese, a dwarf, Europeans, doctors, students, musicians, hairstylists, fence builders, Halliburton managers, psychiatrists and chefs – the list goes on and on. Bury me at Bacchanal is my new mantra. And Ms. Arlene wins the popularity contest hands down whereever she shows up. One guy was so enchanted with her and I said you know that corgis are the mythological steeds for leprechauns and he was so delighted with this image that he left with a big smile on his face.

“Just because your voice reaches halfway around the world doesn’t mean you are wiser than when it reached only to the end of the bar.”
– Edward R. Murrow

Friday T called and I told him to meet me later at Sip for Bastille Day then G and T joined us and we ended up back at G’s house. Sitting on the front porch listening to Damien Rice play from T’s car in the driveway, we talked about current events. T said she is having a hard time, she has suicidal thoughts all the time. We all chimed in and said “same here.” She said but y’all seem so positive all the time and we all agreed it has been a daily negotiation. The feeling like “go ahead car and slam into me” or “let the plane drop out of the sky” is ever present in our lives living in this Post-Katrina time. T said, but I have two children, I shouldn’t entertain thoughts like this. Yeah, but whatyagonnado?

Saturday I rode my bike home after waiting out the thunderstorm and ran smack into a ditch filled with water – it was almost like being in a swimming pool with a bike. I took it in but by the time they had fixed it, I was across town at Bacchanal. Talking to P & E there they said they want to move to Costa Rica – they’re selling their rental property and going to rent out their house and go. This was their plan pre-K and they are still considering it.

Sunday I walked around the bayou a little on the late side of the morning and we stopped in at the LaLa because Arlene dragged me over there. Yesterday when I went by to get my mail with G in the truck – N came running out to greet me and K wouldn’t talk to me. Total cold shoulder. I am so tired of this game. He billed 65 hours last week and I told Steve, my contractor, that that was too much. I don’t want him working 24/7 because he works himself into a state of frustration and he needs to take time to “sharpen his saw” – and I also told Steve I don’t want to do what we talked about doing – K working directly for me – I ratted out K and said he has been asking me out and I find that inappropriate considering our relationship – me the owner and him the carpenter. At one point I was going to let N come stay with me to get away from his father but then I realized I was taking care of two men again and I nixed that right away.

But back to this morning, it was already quite warm and as I crossed the footbridge and passed Holy Rosary, I heard soft laughter coming from a porch. I looked over and a woman was sitting in a rocker, bare feet up on the rail, laughing into a phone. It made me think of Tennessee Williams and how voices carry and are punctuated in the warm humid air. In the green house sat an elderly woman reading the Sunday paper. Then behind Cypress trees a man drank his ice coffee and read the paper. Turning back from the Dumaine Bridge jazz played upstairs in the house that has been bellowing moldy Katrina muck onto the sidewalk for months now.

H&T and I are cleaning up the bayou this morning. The Great Egret will appreciate his habitat being tidied up.

Met a woman who used to be a merchandise manager at Macy’s – she loved her job – but she no longer has it – Macy’s has decided not to reopen in New Orleans. The downtown store was immediately scrapped, but everyone thought Esplanade Mall in Kenner was set to reopen after the roof damage was repaired but now Macy’s has said it officially is not coming back to New Orleans – I say boycott – support Saks.

Spike Lee’s documentary “When the levees broke: A requiem in four acts” will air on August 21 and 22 in two parts on HBO. Then in its entirety on August 29.

My Cougar friend is on Match.com and she had a guy ask her what she has learned from her past relationships – she wrote him a long diatribe but said in the end she condensed it to one thing – actions speak louder than words. I agree. Making out with your ex when you are newly married says a lot about the investment you are making into your marriage and inaction also speaks volumes. Don’t want to bring flowers because it is “wanted” or “expected” – give me a break – you don’t love enough to do something for someone else. End of story.

My learning curve started back in San Francisco when I started seeing a nutritionist because I was fascinated with eating right but never seemed to get the right mix of food to satiate me. I went through a program with a woman name Sonia that was enlightening. I learned I was hypoglycemic – a condition that is not fully recognized by the medical community much like PMS is not recognized (that alone is enough to make you want to run away from the medical community). So I now eat four small meals a day and don’t let 4 waking hours go by without eating a balanced meal of protein, complex carbs, fat and vegetables and fruit. But I also learned a lot of emotional issues were caught up in my eating – which had wide and many tendrils but boiled down to not feeling adequate enough to be accepted for who I am – at work I had to be perfect, to my lovers I have to do everything for them, with my family I have to be always yielding – this has carried over into my recent therapy and has led me to a wider understanding that our actions are an attempt to get a reaction, but if you have been going through life issuing the same actions and getting the same reactions that aren’t working for you – maybe that whole game plan isn’t working and you need to reevaulate.

When I began my long journey here of reevaluating how I took care of my men to ensure they would love me I did not have any idea that I would wind up where I am today – but once you see and understand the situation, you have to hop the worn path you are in and find a new groove. Inevitably I picked selfish men who couldn’t or wouldn’t give back in equal measure so I often felt that as much as I could do for them it would never be enough. I know marriages that work that way – the lover and the beloved – the lover is constantly trying to please the beloved but the beloved will not be pleased. This is the dynamic that makes ficition great, but is not going to make my life great.

Nirvana is what I seek – balance in all aspects of life – work, home, love, friendship, family – I have had enough drama.

G called early this morning – said she had waited for an appropriate time because she had awakened at 5:30AM this morning in tears over a horrific nightmare about me. In her nightmare, we were at a wedding. I was in the wedding party and she was a guest. Everyone was outside waiting for the ceremony to begin. She asked where I was and someone said the reason we were waiting was because Rachel is in the building with Nick and V. G was confused as to why, what was happening; she got nervous. Someone told her we were having a disagreement. The person said, “the wife wants a diamond ring.” G said that doesn’t sound right. Then a speaker said Wade had gone in to calm things down. The speaker said W has a special link to Rachel. G started towards the building and someone blocked her and said “no, they’re all dead, it was a murder suicide.” G said she fell to her knees wailing and suddenly my life flashed in front of her and questions such as who would care for Arlene? clouded her grief.

It took her a long time to shake the dream and then she thought she knew it’s origin – she had talked to her neighbor about watching her dogs and it made her think of and miss Lark – the woman who was killed in a supposed love triangle middle of last year. When I first returned to New Orleans, I remember going to the Tuesday green market and having my knives sharpened. The guy had a dog under his table and someone recognized it as his daughter’s. The woman who was killed in the love triangle.

Since I have such representational dreams I thought about what G’s might mean – on an obvious level, it represents the death of four (five counting S) friendships, in Jungian terms the amplification of the dream would be first G’s relationship to me, she could fear losing my friendship; the events might signify a troubled past – mine – of which her history of this trouble means loss – losing Lark – who was on her mind when she went to bed – the culmination was G trying to take care of practical matters – who would watch Arlene if I was gone? Who would watch her dogs if she was gone? All valid.

I long for the decadence of being in my own house, one that I have created through purpose and intent, but alas that day is off in the distance. Dave Trahan, my contractor, told me to go look at a house he is doing on Laurel and State – it is (will be) beautiful – after seeing it (I went to inspect the concrete board because the metal siding for the addition is simply ridiculous – $25,000 after the initial bid was $12,000) I knew the truth – Trahan & Associates do fabulous work – quality. But I can tell you what I surmised as I walked through the painted rooms – the LaLa will not be finished until 2007.

The counter tops will take 5 months once ordered, they can’t be ordered until the cabinets are set, the cabinets can’t be set until the interior is painted, the interior can’t be painted until the sheetrockers float the walls, shall I continue? The new windows that replace the three large windows have a six week lead time once ordered – that is for windows without glass – I don’t know what the lead time is once the windows are set and we order the glass – possibly another two to three weeks. So we’ll get half the siding up on the walls without windows, a roof on, and on the side where the windows go have to come back and do more siding later. Are you starting to get my drift? There are still miles to go.

So I had a talk with K today – this one about business – I had a personal one with him while driving back from Atlanta when I told him my heart is still healing and I’m not up for dinner or coffee or dating – I didn’t tell him I’m not sure I’ll ever be up for dating – I just never dated and I don’t think I want to start now. Maybe I’m out of touch but I’m all about attraction forcing the hand rather than the hand forcing the attraction. Now about the house – I told him I can’t handle a full-time job and management of the LaLa – I can’t be called into impromptu meetings on a daily basis about whether I want to use concrete board or green board or 2×4 versus some other size wood – because I don’t have the expertise to answer these questions. I will and can respond to questions of aesthetics or cost evaluations – but I can’t make decisions on areas I have no expertise in. For these questions, he needs to call Dave or Steve – my contractors.

G called last night after I begged off and left her to her date and came home to my book. I had seen H&T outside and they were picking up soup then coming home and suddenly that sounded like a great idea. When G called, T had left and she was going on about how sweet he is – brought her flowers (albeit carnations) – and how thoughtful (many cited examples of thoughtfulness) as she studied the baby’s breath in the carnations, she spoke in a stream of consciousness (wine induced) about what a nice guy he is-as if trying to convince herself that these qualities could supersede all the others and win the day. Good luck, I thought. What do women want – how the hell would I know? Or any woman I know, know. But I’ll venture we know it when we smell it – no, wait that’s me, I’m the one who has to like the smell, well S said she cares about smell too, but I digress, we do know it, when whatever it is is there in the other, then we can name it and say, ah that’s what I want. But it’s all so individual and so ephemeral.

Now back to construction – I’m in the final throes of this Brinkley book and can’t help thinking that so many people out there fared so much worse than me that I need to quit my grousing about losing love and racking up house debt – but today at the dentist – my hygenist has a unique perspective – she asked the typical “how’d you fare?” I told her I have survivor’s guilt because I really didn’t have damage but I feel so damaged – she lives in Metairie and she said all she wants is to redo her kitchen, but she didn’t get any damage, the two big trees – an oak on one side and a magnolia on the other both dropped limbs very carefully in the interstitial space between her and her neighbors’ houses. “All those people who lost everything…they’re getting new appliances and new carpet and everything and I’m sitting here looking at all my old stuff every single day.” Certainly a different perspective – goes to show you if you want something to complain about you can find it anywhere, anytime. But life is too short to focus on what is not working – I’d rather rejoice in all the pleasures of what is and will be.

I went to a neighborhood meeting tonight and there was a record turn out according to the moderator. That’s good, people are interested in their community. You know what this is – this is the DIY era. New Orleans is asking everyone to DIY (do it yourself) and fix their houses, fix their psyches, fix their neighborhoods, their public places all themselves – all by themselves. My company is in DIY mode. We are not going to sell to a bigger fish – instead we are going to DIY. And that means at work, at play, at home, no one is picking up after you and no one is planning for you, so it’s all about you 24/7 and that means get off your ass and get it done or shut the hell up. Welcome to DIY soul repair, heart repair, home repair, environment repair, career repair.

I am the mother ship of DIY.

I’ve been living at the American Can since May of last year when S and I moved here from California and bought the LaLa and started working on it. How many times have I been down at the pool and had to come all the way up here to use the bathroom? I just found out there is a bathroom right beside the gym. Surprise surprise.

I’m 47 years old and have been married for 24 years to 3 different men and I just realized how much I love being on my own – surprise surprise.

Last night G and E came over and we had a business meeting and a lot of wine and cheese and we listen to a lot of music. I played them my new favorite song – Crazy by Gnarls Barley – and a bunch of other tunes that we all enjoyed. It is so unbelievably wonderful to listen to music you love with friends you like hanging out with and drinking good wine and eating cheese. Why can’t life always be so good? Well it’s so good I’m going to do it again tonight at Sip, which now has a location here in MidCity and on Tuesdays and Thursdays hosts a music themed wine tasting – tonight it is French Hip Hop – who knew?

Before I left for Atlanta I had read Ernie’s blog and responded to an entry because someone asked him why there is this penchant for self revelation by bloggers – I thought E didn’t post it because I was scathing in my response to the guy – but turns out he didn’t get it. My response was remove the scales from your eyes, dude, because since Freud our world has been all about self-revelation and in so doing we have moved closer to an understanding about what it means to be human beings – I have read fiction such as MiddleMarch, The Dead, On Human Bondage, Things Fall Apart, and The Rabbit Series that helped me understand myself, I’ve read autobiographies by Katherine Graham, Bill Clinton and Maya Angelou that moved me closer to understanding other people’s motivations, I’ve read poetry by Jane Hirschfield, William Wordsworth and Wislawa Szymborska, which helped me grasp the multi dimensions of humanity, and I read and write a blog to both learn more about myself and others – to know what it means to be alive and living in full technicolor in this day and age.

Self revelation isn’t meant for everyone – but as a writer it is do or die.

Sheryl Crow said Lance and she had irreconciliable differences but they still love each other. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, Lance wanted to come be by her side, she wouldn’t allow it because she didn’t want to have to go through the inevitable break up all over again.

Among the Multitude
Walt Whitman

Among the men and women the multitude,
I perceive one picking me out by secret and divine signs,
Acknowledging none else, not parent, wife, husband,
brother, child, any nearer than I am,
Some are baffled, but that one is not — that one knows me.

Ah lover and perfect equal,
I meant that you should discover me so by faint indirections,
And I when I meet you mean to discover you by the like in you.

——————-

Work is good but it requires “continuous partial attention” (a term coined by Microsoft exec Linda Stone) – it colors relationships outside of work who are not used to constant interruption – you try to explain but you can’t – you don’t want to but you have to – it’s like saying I am not going to learn how to use a computer, I will not go on the internet, I will not have a cell phone – modern workers don’t have the luxury of being apart.

Observations from a road trip to a bat mitzvah:

Rabbi kept mentioning 9/11 and the War in Iraq – I told him, hey, what up?, how about Katrina in your own backyard. For the final ceremony he dwelled on Katrina.

Kudzu is taking over the world – or at least the southeast.

Black W stickers abound in Alabama – I thought they were supporting the hotel chain because the logo is so similar.

Even while noticing the few absent family members this weekend, you can’t help but notice the amazing expansion of an already large family.

Upon returning to Louisiana – the bumper sticker said “Is it 2008 yet?”

Over the state line coming into Louisiana – a Pelican flew over Beau Sauvage. A few miles later, devastation.

I’ve decided to quit sharing with others the woes of renovating a house in Post-Katrina times. My new thing is I am building Taj Majal.

After S, my youngest niece, finished her Bat Mitzvah, my brother R, talked about the past year. He said it has been a hard one, losing his mother to a heart attack (he is my half brother), losing his sister in a car accident (again not related to me), and having gone through difficult times with his oldest daughter N, and having watched his family in New Orleans go through Katrina – he said he gets through the troubled times by calling on a reservoir inside of him that is filled with good memories and he told his youngest daughter that she occupies 3/4 of that reservoir – my entire row openly sobbed.

A reading from services on Saturday morning:

In this quiet hour of worship, we reflect upon the meaning of our lives.

I harbor within-we all do-a vision of my highest self, a dream of what I could and should become. May I pursue this vision, labor to make real my dream. Thus will I give meaning to my life.

An artist in the course of painting will pause, lay aside the brush, step back from the canvas, and consider what needs to be done, what direction is to be taken. So does each of us on this Sabbath eve pause to reflect. As I hope to make my life a work of art, so may this hour of worship help me to turn back to the canvas of life to paint the portrait of my highest self.

May my efforts to grow in the moral stature bring me joy of achievement. And may I always hold before my eyes the vision of perfection we call by the name of God-grow towards that.

Amen

Ricca’s carries original and reproduction of cast iron and wood architectural features and caters to the city of New Orleans. You might imagine how important they have been as people have tried to rebuild their homes in post-Katrina times. Mr. Ricca, 57 years old, died in his sleep. A sad day for the city.

Read an article that said bloggers who plug products should disclose if they are being compensated to keep the integrity of blogs intact. Do we have integrity? Meanwhile don’t go see Lost City – it is typical Andy Garcia drivel – except the music is fabulous – so buy the CD and skip the film. That’s my anti-plug for the day.

Here’s my plug – try Romney Pilates – I was going to Uncle Joe’s – which is great, but almost a little cultish – Romney is just as disciplined without the attitude. Plus you can always eat at La Boulangerie after you finished working off 150 calories (so that entitles you to what?).

For doing renovations or building in the city here is my hit list from what I have learned on the LaLa:

Dependable and good work: Earl Stephens Electric, George’s Plumbing, Bud Logan Contractor, Trahan & Associates Builders, Cast Enterprises Alarm, Jericho (footings), Metal Window Corp (CA).

Do not recommend: Schild Construction, Jaco Construction (sheetrock), A-1 Home Improvement

More to come – off to Hotlanta…..

Looked at the ceiling for an awfully long time this morning as the Bean stared at me – usually I’m a bounce out of bed type – but agh – wasn’t in the mood this morning. The day came around – sometimes you throw yourself on the mercy of the cosmos and the cosmos respond! My carpenter, K told me today instead of leaving for good on the 14th he is coming back after a three week break and going to keep working on the house to get it done. Fantastic.

He has been replacing the back deck and stairs that Kim’s guys installed improperly.

I called E, the electrician, and he is coming by tomorrow morning before I take off for Atlanta and to go over some changes – he didn’t even flinch.

I spoke to the woman in California about the windows and am perhaps relieved to be getting it all taken care of — in getting new windows I get rid of ones with bad memories, I eliminate the need for shutters by using high impact glass, and I unify the addition since the other windows were manufactured by the same place. WaLa!

The bayou is dirty and needs my care – but the floating debris will have to wait till I return (sadly it probably will) – note to self: who is throwing litter in the bayou?

Had a great session with E – we went into overtime – she said we are peeling back the onion and getting to the core. Yee Ha!

And now for a road trip – Hotlanta here I come……..