Photo study: my old jewelry box

While doing some organizing over the weekend, I went through my high school jewelry box.

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I loved this locket. I remember putting different things in it, but I didn’t remember leaving a tiny diamond earring inside. This diamond would be lost on my giant earlobes.

 

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I have no idea where the tiny diamond came from, but I remember wearing it.

 

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I didn’t usually wear these together. Yes, I was one of those two-different-earring people, because Pretty in Pink. Duh.

 

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Once upon a time, there was Heartland by Bath and Bodyworks in this locket. I had a thing for different kinds of lockets. I know it’s not technically a locket, but you know. The perfume has since dried and there is only a faint hint of Heartland.

 

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Three rubies, one pearl, and one diamond. I wore these in my second holes, because of course I did. I first had my ears pierced at three, then again after the holes closed up, then I pierced second holes myself with a pin and ice when I was in high school, because of course I did. At first, I did one ear because I thought that was kind of cool, then I did the other when I was bored one Sunday night watching 120 Minutes on MTV.

Royal Ascot 2013

As longtime readers know, the Royal Ascot is one of my favorite things in the world. The Royal Ascot is a multi-day horserace in England where people wear the gaudiest, most ridiculous hats you have ever seen. I look forward to this each year and hope to see if for myself one day because OMG crazyass hats.

Let’s go to the photos.

Duchess Drunky de Wheresmywine needs to call a taxi.

Duchess Drunky de Wheresmywine needs to call a taxi.

it is well known that chocolate is not sold at the Royal Ascot, so Countess Hershey brings her own.

it is well known that chocolate is not sold at the Royal Ascot, so Countess Hershey brings her own.

Duchess Pearly Unicorn of Skeletonshire

Duchess Pearly Unicorn of Skeletonshire

Lady Aero de Plane

Lady Aero de Plane

"Darling Frederick, why are you saluting?" "Mummy, you always said to salute the flag." "yes, Darling, that is - oh, never mind."

“Darling Frederick, why are you saluting?”
“Mummy, you always said to salute the flag.”
“yes, Darling, that is – oh, never mind.”

NEVERMORE!

NEVERMORE!

"Yes, Winifred, I do believe Prince Harry is looking." "I can't tell, Imogen, this hat is blocking my view." "Mine is too. It could be that ginger from Harry Potter, I'm not sure."

“Yes, Winifred, I do believe Prince Harry is looking.”
“I can’t tell, Imogen, this hat is blocking my view.”
“Mine is too. It could be that ginger from Harry Potter, I’m not sure.”

Sir Tom Fish-Petty from across the pond. Far across the pond. He swam.

Sir Tom Fish-Petty from across the pond. Far across the pond. He swam.

Lady Foxy Lady

Lady Foxy Lady

Lady Rose Bush-Head of the Steffordshire Bush-Heads.

Lady Rose Bush-Head of the Steffordshire Bush-Heads.

I love a good dessert. not on my head. and not with a Marilyn Monroe impersonator.

I love a good dessert. not on my head. and not with a Marilyn Monroe impersonator.

If I have learned anything, it's to not trust a woman wielding a bunny. Put that bunny in a pot and it's Fatal Attraction time.

If I have learned anything, it’s to not trust a woman wielding a bunny. Put that bunny in a pot and it’s Fatal Attraction time.

If you don't have a hat, get a newspaper and make one. Top it with yellow sunglasses and a granny cardigan and voila! you are the Zooey desChanel of the Royal Ascot.

If you don’t have a hat, get a newspaper and make one. Top it with yellow sunglasses and a granny cardigan and voila! you are the Zooey desChanel of the Royal Ascot.

If you don't have a hat just use your golden umbrella. And put a snail on your arm.

If you don’t have a hat just use your golden umbrella.

or just put a bird on it.

or just put a bird on it.

"Mummy, I want to ride the pony!" "Darling, that's just some old nag with a horse hat."

“Mummy, I want to ride the pony!”
“Darling, that’s just some old nag with a horse hat.”

dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness this thing called Lego Wedding.

dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness this thing called Lego Wedding.

and 9 months after the Lego wedding, the Royal Ascot stork brought the royal baby. on a hat. amen.

and 9 months after the Lego wedding, the Royal Ascot stork brought the royal baby. on a hat. amen.

bottoms up, horse bitches!

bottoms up, horse bitches!

 

photo study: the Vicki’s Secret “Fashion” Show

As you know, I am nothing if not a fashion maven, so I was highly anticipating the annual Vicki's Secret Fashion Show. Let's get to it – there is a lot of fashion to get to.

 

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Do you think it's hard for Super Boob Angel to fly with glass wings? I like her micro-micro mini. I always wear mine with my peek-a-boob crime fighting top so everyone can see that my undies and bra match. That's very important in superhero fashion.

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Do you know how hard it is to find matching Battenburg lace wings and corsets? It's nearly impossible unless you have a DeLorean and can travel back to the Victorian era. Clearly Vicki went back to great-great-great grandma Queen Victoria for inspiration here. The cameo makes it classy.

 

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When I'm fighting crime, I'm always sure to have my aero-dynamic cape/floatation device ready. 

 

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Never fear, Banana Boob Batgirl is here (with matching thong).

 

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Oh, look, it's the poster girl for former Runaways singer Cherrie Curry's book, Neon Angel. I would say she looks ready for the Vegas Strip, but she's already stripped.

 

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"Well, fiddle-dee-dee! I do declare, the front of my dress has plum blown right off. Whatever shall I do?"

 

photo study: random pictures

I take a lot of pictures.  I would like to say it's because I'm a scrapbooker, but it's because things make me laugh and I take pictures of things.  

And I have a weird sense of humor.  Obviously.

For no reason I thought I'd share some of the pics I've taken that I laughed at while perusing my iPhoto when looking for one specific picture that still remains to be found.  Oh well.

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"Say wha?"

This is my Lucy dog.  Lucy is a basset hound and the breed makes for great photo opportunities.  

 

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"Drunk Words with Friends."

My good friend Professor Hillary and I are horrible people.  We love the Words with Friends, but being highly competitive people as well as demented, we decided that our games needed themes.  The theme of this game was to use words associated with booze.  I lost.

 

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"Well, guess they're not getting my money!"

This is the actual sign on the door of a nice Japanese restaurant in Baton Rouge.  Prof. Hillary and I laughed for five minutes before we took our doo-rags off and went in for lunch.

 

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"Zat you Santa Claus?"

The hubs took me to a seedy bar to hear an '80s cover band and we saw Santa.  I spent two hours commenting on this sighting. 

 

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"But is Florence in it?"

I find the tvguide.com helpful, but when you scroll too far down the screen you land on the adult channels. And I'm not talking about VH1.  Just the idea of the Jeffersons XXX Porn Parody was enough to make me laugh.  

 

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"She looks so peaceful."

This is my friend and bidness padnuh, Megan after I shot her at ScrapFest!  Nah.  She stretched out on the floor for some reason and I told her to stay there so I could take a picture, "so it will look like I shot you."  For some reason she listened to me.  

More randomness to follow.  

photo study: I love baseball

I'm not sure if I'm mentioned this before, but I love the baseball.  I don't know what it is – the spirit of the game, the excitement of all bases loaded with two outs, the concessions you can only get at baseball games, the seventh inning stretch, the tight pants… 

It truly is America's game.  

Knowing this, Prince Harry came across the pond to throw out the first pitch at the Mets vs. Twins game last week.  Luckily, someone took pictures.

 
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Someone get this boy a uniform.  Look at that form, that arm – he clearly needs to be in the majors.  Prince Harry, say goodbye to your polo pony and get a green card, honey.  America needs you.   I'm emailing the President on your behalf later today.  Maybe we could do an exchange – England can have Beyonce.  And JLo.

Off the subject, but have I mentioned how much I admire all branches of the military, our nation's allies included?

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photo study: meanwhile in Washington

I don't know if y'all have heard, but down south of where I live in Louisiana, in the Gulf of Mexico, there was an oil spill.  Except that it wasn't an oil spill.  An oil spill is a tanker truck turning over on the interstate.  This is thousands of barrels of oil pouring into the Gulf everyday and it's been going on since April 20th with the blast on the Deepwater Horizon rig triggering a huge spill, soiling 100 miles of coastline, threatening some of the richest U.S. fisheries and endangering a fragile marine ecosystem.  So, what does that mean to average Mr. and Mrs. America who isn't hearing about this everyday?  The spill happened one week before the start of brown shrimp season in Louisiana, that means hundreds of shrimpers are out of work, not to mention all the other fishermen who are now unemployed.  The spill is real to those families.  This also means your summer vacation to Gulf Shores or Florida may have to be canceled as oil is being reported nearing the white sand beaches.   

So, I thought I'd share some pictures of the coast, accompanied by photos of the President and Vice President in Washington this week.  

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A Brown Pelican is seen on the beach at East Grand Terre Island along the Louisiana coast on Thursday, June 3, 2010. (AP Photo/Charlie Riedel)

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Meanwhile, I assume this pic of Vice President and Mrs. Biden with  Cookie Monster and friends was taken at the Muppet Summit on Wetland Protection.  

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I think Biden got the answer on how to save these guys from Grover.  Don't worry, EVEN BROWNER pelicans, Biden's got this!  (AP Photo/Charlie Riedel)

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My man Paul McCartney was honored Wednesday night at the White House with the Gershwin Prize (I know, I wasn't invited either) and he performed "Michelle," with Obama mouthing the words in the front row.  I'm sure that being a widely publicized environmentalist, McCartney gave the president advice on how to solve the crisis in the Gulf. 

Well, maybe during the commercial breaks.  Yeah, the evening was filmed as a concert for PBS to air in July.  

Glad the president had time for that.

photo study: my most personal yet – the purses

Those of you who have been reading the blog for a while know I'm  a bit of a purse person.  Okay, that's a lie.  I've been obsessed with purses since middle school and had a crocodile bag in 10th grade.  Does that tell you a little about me?  My first "name brand" bag was a Liz Claiborne I think my Aunt Vicki gave me (I was envious of her Gucci bag at the age of 12) and I began saving for bags and buying my own early on.  

So, it should come as no surprise that my purses are the first things I packed for the move.  

Just for fun, I took pictures of some of my favorites (you will see a pattern) and for even more fun, what was in the purses when I dumped them out onto my bed before packing.

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 The makeup.  I kind of like lipstick.  And oil blotting sheets.  I will gladly donate them to BP if it will help.

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 Snacks.  A plastic spoon.  A handful of pens.  If you want to make me happy, give me a nice pen.  

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Giftcards, hotel room keys, and a Vera Bradley notepad.  And Excedrin Migraine.  

Now the purses.   My bed wasn't made.  Don't judge.

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 A Dooney bucket bag, probably my most neutral bag.  I think you'll see what I mean in a second.

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 One of my favorites.  My Brighton embroidered slouch.  It screams fall with all my fave colors.

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 A reversible Brighton slouch.  This is me doing girly.

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 This flannel Vera Bradley is fantastic and hunter-chic.

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 My plaid Dooney.

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I kind of have a thing for plaid.  Just a little.  My first Brighton bag, a shopper tote in a bee pattern that I love love love.  

 

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 Plaid domed Coach.  

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My favorite color green.  This Dooney is a favorite.

 
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This Varsity Stripe Legacy Coach bag has been a go-to bag since the day I bought it.  I use the matching wallet every day.  It's the most well-designed bag I've ever owned and come on, it goes with everything.  Well, it does if you're like me and happen to wear brown, orange, and hot pink.  

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I didn't take pictures of every purse.  That would have been an all-day project.  Here are most of the Vera Bradleys.  I think there are 12.  There are more on top.  And that's not counting my totes.  

I know, I have an illness, but I don't care.  

photo study: the ENT’s office wall mural

The boy child has an ear and sinus infection (he's an overachiever), and because he has ear tubes, we headed to the ENT today.  I'll spare you the details of the exam room, but trust me – there were tools and equipment I haven't seen since I was a small child in Dr. Watkin's office on Line Avenue in Shreveport.  And I got to assist! Guess all that ER, Grey's Anatomy, and Private Practice came in handy!

What I look most forward to at this this particular doctor's office is the wall mural in the waiting room.  It is nothing short of a masterpiece in waiting room art.  And it spans the length of the room.  It is long.  I'm not good with measurement, so I couldn't tell you how long it is, but it's long.  One half of it is a Louisiana bayou scene, one half is a typical Louisiana home and family.  

Here is almost half of the bayou scene.

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Don't worry, I took close-ups.

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And even closer-ups.

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What can I say, I'm a sucker for hound dogs.  

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Don't look now, but it's my uncle Earl.

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Oh, it's my pets, Boudreaux and Bandit, playing on a log — those silly critters.

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Now for the other half of the mural.  It's the old homestead at Tallow Creek.  Been in the family for generations. I've restored it back to original white paint and had the gardner put in the historically accurate ferns.  The name of the brick is Old Jackson and the trailing roses are "Elizabeth Taylor."

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I thought it was nice of the artist to depict our family on the way home from church on Sunday in our smart car.   

If you're not from Louisiana, and judging by the blog's stats — you're not — I can tell you this mural is a fair representation of the entire state.  We all either live in shacks or on plantations and fish for our dinner in the swamp, that is if we're not eating what we happened to kill that crawled up onto the porch.  It's not for everybody, but it's life here in Louisiana.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to have Mammy tighten my corset so I can get into this here ball gown and go to the fancy debutante shindig across the lake.  

photo study: healthcare bill signed into law

This is not a political blog.  There are plenty of political blogs on the interwebs and plenty of fine bloggers who do a fine job of reporting and/or editorializing the beltway as they see fit.  Any political commentary you may read on The Kerry Blog is strictly to be taken with a grain of Splenda and is meant as satire only.  

That being said, have you seen this f*ckery?

There was a bill signing at the White House today, you may have heard about it..  People took pictures.  I saw humor in them.

All of today's photos were stolen from Huffingtonpost.com.  

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 It's always embarrassing when no one meets your high five.  Just sad.  

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Who the hell let Gary Coleman in the White House?  Mr. Potter from It's a Wonderful Life is ashamed.  Pelosi can't clap with her eyes open.  And what's with the blue bracelet?  These Washington peeps can't accessorize for shit.  Someone get Rachel Zoe or Robert Verdi on the phone.  Stat.  

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 Everyone is overjoyed  that Gary Coleman will have healthcare at last.  

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 "Settle down, mofos."

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 "How you fine ladies doin'?  Why yes, I am Tiger Woods.  

photo study: my grandfather’s house

My grandparents were a tremendous influence on me growing up.  I learned volumes from them on things such as family, forgiveness, community, God, work, and charity.  

My grandmother, Patsy, was an adorable 4 foot 10 inch spitfire who would often curse with her signature "she-I-T" when she forgot to put the rolls in the oven or if the smoke alarm went off.  She named the hummingbirds that fed in their backyard every year — all with names that started with H.  She wore one of those aprons that said "nobody cooks like" with the extra letters to iron-on for your name, but in at least a decade of wearing, she never ironed her name on the apron.  She always had peppermints and Wrigley's Spearmint gum.  She hummed when she did housework and cooked.  She used two giant leather-bound dictionaries to work the Sunday crossword puzzle, but would call me for pop-culture references when I was in middle and high school.  I was devastated when Mammaw Patsy died of cancer in February of 2002, but I am grateful for every moment I was able to spend with her and for everything I learned from her.

My grandfather, Glenn, is another story altogether.  I love him to death.  He was a marine, a fireman, and is what my grandmother used to call "a tinkerer."  I've never seen someone do more to try to fix something in my life.  When we evacuated to Shreveport during Hurricane Katrina, my grandfather welcomed us with open arms.  Andrew was two months old and it was less than an ideal forced vacation to my hometown.  When we arrived I saw that my grandfather had all the pieces of an ironing board strewn all over the back porch and was attempting to reassemble it.  It was a wooden ironing board.  Made of wood.  He worked on the ironing board for almost the entire two weeks we were there before giving up on it and heading to Walmart for a new ironing board.  The old one had been his mother's and was probably from 1925, and no, I'm not exaggerating because my grandfather was born in 1926.  

Pappaw hates new stuff.  One of my favorite things to do when I'm at the house is to quiz him on the age of things around the house.  My favorite is the plastic green dustpan that was purchased the same year my mother was born.  So, just to show you the fun that surrounds Casa de Pappaw should you ever visit, here is my photo study.  

I like to call this collection of photos "The House Where Time Stands Still."

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It's always December 2003

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 I'm not sure if you can make it out, but the note says "Love you, Erin.  12-22-97 Merry X-mas!"  Erin is my cousin, who was 12 in 1997.

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This would be the new flat-screen tv next to the non-working console tv, which is now a shelf, obviously (holding the RECORD PLAYER).  The kids were watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, that's Johnny Depp looking weird.

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 This photo is from the entryway.  This lovely faux wicker set has been hanging in this exact spot since 1984 when my grandparents moved into the house.  Those candles used to be Williamsburg Blue and have never been lit.  The red flowers are new and are just awful.

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 This white, orange, and green carpet could probably induce seizures.  It's in the "computer room."  This is the room I would sleep in when I spent the night in high school.  I don't know how I didn't have nightmares.  The light fixture used to match — it was all kinds of disco awesome. 

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No, this isn't Pappaw's current phone number, so don't call and ask for his primo decorating tips.  Here's something funny though: I can remember my friend Will's phone number from high school because of this phone.  When I would spend the night at my grandparents' house and call him, it took ten minutes to dial the number because of all the 9s and 7s.  By the time the phone would ring, I'd already forgotten why I had called in the first place.

 

And now for the portion of the photo study I call "Paint it Brown."  The family joke is that my Pappaw paints everything brown so it resembles wood.  

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Yeah, he painted the birdhouse and pole brown. 

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No, the mailbox didn't come in brown — he had to paint it that color.  The original wooden post was hit by someone on the street, so Pappaw made a post out of some sort of metal and painted it brown to resemble wood.  I believe his exact words were "just let them try to run it over now." 

While I am poking fun at my grandfather, I love him very much and think he's the best.  I loved spending time with him during the holidays and hearing old fireman stories and talking about Andy Griffith .  He's the only person who calls my son, Andrew, "Andy" and I love that.