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A long time ago in a disagreement with my estranged husband, I found him fighting tooth and nail on our material possessions and what I didn’t know then but know now is that was his emotional vocabulary (stunted, I admit, but nonetheless the only tools in his toolbox). Luckily, after a bit of time I understood that the fight was toxic and that it was poisoning me and so I said, have at it, it’s all yours and walked away. The day I did that monkeys jumped off my back. I was reading a media post this morning that quoted Pete Dexter’s line from Paris Trout: “Poison snake bites you, you’re poison too.”

That is why when it came to my separation of property with my last husband, I had learned a few things – nothing can make up for the hurt and sadness you are feeling and most certainly not any material objects so best to approach things fair and amicably. We did I’m thankful to say.

Which is why when it came to my mother’s belongings, I was like, don’t need them, none can replace the love or her presence in my life, although I do look at the Spanish vase she gave me every day on my countertop and think of her – it is exotic and beautiful and old-fashioned yet timeless.

Poison snake bites you, you’re poison. I learned they blow the horn to charge in battle and to retreat. Sometimes it is better to walk away and keep your blood pumping pure.

As a sign of the times, we couldn’t keep our eyes open till the end of the Oscars. We had taped it but still even fast forwarding through commercials we were toast. Woke this morning to my NYT update:

Breaking News Alert

The New York Times

Sun, March 07, 2010 — 11:57 PM ET

—–

Kathryn Bigelow Wins Best Director Oscar for ‘The Hurt Locker’

Kathryn Bigelow, director of the Iraq war thriller “The Hurt Locker,” is the first woman to win an Oscar for best

director. Only four women have been nominated in the category (Linda Wertmüller, “Seven Beauties,” 1976; Jane Campion, “The Piano,” 1993; Sofia Coppola, “Lost In Translation,” 2003).

I was talking to  someone recently who didn’t understand blog from Twitter from Facebook and here are my explanations:

Facebook – like slam books from when I was in grade school. We all carried spiral back composition books our friends wrote in spontaneously.

Twitter – like fence talk, you tell your neighbor you heard Sam’s dog is loose again, and then he tells his neighbor and so on and so on.

Blog – as a journalist you could say I blog because it is close to what I do for a living – investigative reporting, but blogging is also autobiographical so it is a form of nonfiction creative writing, but most importantly blogging is a realm of reality manifest. To wit, a quote from Louise Nevelson “What we call reality is an agreement that people have arrived at to make life more livable.” [I lost my favorite buttons one Mardi Gras during the 80s that said DON’T FUCK WITH MY REALITY.]

Spring is in the air and today was just over the top wonderful with blue skies, cotton ball clouds, and lots of outdoor time. I made coconut shrimp and udon noodles for lunch and afterwards, Tin and I went over to the little park by Cabrini and he wandered around amidst the 4 and 5 year olds that were running up and down and all around. Then we went on the swing and it was the first time I had put him in the baby swing, I normally swing with him in my pack, and he loved it, and when I took him out – he pitched a fit – one of many of his fits lately if you take something away from him. He thinks its a zero sum game, but he’ll learn as time goes on, there are plenty of things and happenings and people to go around.

Gone are the days of the Oscar parties at my house where I would have semicircles of chairs and plenty of catty critics to narrate the red carpet. Now Oscar night is about curling up in the flannels and getting through the first half. I’m rooting for Hurt Locker to sweep the awards – Bigelow deserves it, the screenwriter deserves it. We watched Inglorious Bastards last night and it was signature Tarantino – tense the entire film.

After so much up and down for nearly two years, we are finally on a nice little stretch here – spring is the air, Tin is more than we could have asked for in a son, the economy though not recovering to any great lengths is moving ahead, and so we are looking forward to the year. The other day a friend was over and he was telling us all the horror stories of his children when one pushed a quarter up the other’s nose, one had a huge allergic reaction right at the time about four kids had died from some strange virus, and on and on. I said I hope Tin doesn’t have any emergency visits – and he looked at me and said, “Get ready, it’s just starting.”

Can we talk about something else, I said to him. We then talked about his work and his plans for growing his business (which is shrinking and growing depending on his mood). I had just spent time with another friend talking about whether she would retire and what would the next phase of her working life be. I have friends getting into Jazz Fest for the first time with their art and some who did not get in this year for the first time. Things are constantly in flux it seems.

Somebody left some words of wisdom for Tin that said to be constant to yourself as that will guide you through uncertain times. I think that was great advice and it actually dovetailed with several of the other entries in his birthday book – be happy with what you have, be prepared to give up the life you had planned for the one that awaits you, don’t take anything for granted, etc. To thy own self be true.

It’s nice to know you don’t know everything and therefore can’t predict the future. But when the future comes it’s always nice to know it will be you who shows up.

March 07, 2010

1. Taurus (4/20-5/20)

   A whole new way of earning your daily bread may be well within your reach now, so if someone comes along with a good offer, don’t automatically turn it down. That goes double if the offer arrives after a certain person notices just how talented you are at something other than your actual vocation — your hobby, for example. Wouldn’t it be nice to do what you love for work? It’s not out of the question, you know.

Yesterday and today the front porch was calling again to come sit outside and feel the sun on your cheeks and watch the world come out yet again to play. I saw the recent widow and wanted to approach her with my condolences but she was on her phone. This morning as T1, T2 and Loca headed to the park for some playtime, I got on my bike and rode to the lakefront with God on Sunday as my playlist. Part way there, as pelicans were hovering in the air, seagulls were calling to the air, and cars were lumbering by, Why Me Lord by Kris Kristofferson came on and I felt once again bathed in the light of the day. This was a song I wanted to play at mom’s funeral along with Love is My Religion, which I did play, as Why Me Lord sums up so much of a life filled with gratitude for the pleasures I’ve known.

In either direction the lakefront is being dug up and shored up and resurfaced so it was impossible to get anywhere. I stopped in front of the Mardi Gras fountain where my dad used to take us in the early evening to get a snowball or ice cream cone and watch the fountain change colors. There are plaques for each krewe surrounding the fountain. I’m waiting for that to be restored as well one of these days so we can bring Tin.

The sun felt so good that I lay on a bench and looked up at the blue blue sky and then I saw the chemtrail – it’s always something.

I asked friends not to bring presents and instead bring words of wisdom for Tin. My favorite entry in his birthday book is a toss up between almost two year old Ruby’s “Poo Poo Poo” and much older Brady’s “Don’t Cook Bacon Naked.” Maybe the winner should go to Brady who drove to the party on his souped up electronic wheelchair that had been custom fitted with a double seat and was lit up like a Mardi Gras float.

Tin’s birth certificate came today where it says I’m his mom – got to love it! I felt bad that the entry for dad is empty and we had just been speaking about the need to surround Tin with good male role models. Then a friend stopped by and he carried Tin up and around and back and forth and I watched him as I sat at the table eating my salad thinking, okay, we wanted male role models, but not sure if this is what we had in mind. Ha!

We woke this morning after the celebration and I felt like I had a hangover – but I hadn’t touched a sip of wine or beer, maybe it was the carrot cake and ice cream that I had even though sugar and sweets are on my Lent fast. But you have to eat your’s son’s first birthday cake – it’s a rule. Meanwhile, on the front door was a rude campaign flyer from Jay Batt, reason enough to make me go to the polls and vote for Susan Guidry. I ran into a neighbor and walked there with him and his daughter, who was barely awake and snuggling on his chest. Then I came back home and was supposed to go to Target in Metairie and pick up some things and it was so unbelievably gorgeous and sunny and warm and nice outside that I said forgetaboutit. Life is too short to go to Metairie and Target when the sun is out. So I transferred Tin around in the backpack and we went to deliver thank you notes to friends and we basically bounced around the neighborhood.

A man in a truck said something to me and he had a Susan Guidry sign on his door and I yelled back, “I already voted.” And he yelled back, “No, I said to you I wish I was ten years younger I’d ask you out.” I squinted at him in the sunlight saying to myself, right, pimp purple stretch pants, a baby strapped to my back and what? I said, “I bet you I’m ten years older than you.” “How old are you?” he asked. I yelled back, “I’ll be 51 this year.” He said, “Damn! I got you beat by 11 years.” We both laughed and headed our way.

When the sun is out and the air is crisp, even 51 year old women who are slightly overweight and carrying a baby look good.