The Crab Chronicles

One Hundred Words

I was reading a job ad a little while ago and the company is looking for someone to write 100 word stories for a newsletter. The ad really intrigued me. So instead of my usual long-winded Sunday essay, I am going to try and broadcast my news in 100 word bites. I guess in today's fast-paced world, 100 words is about as many as most folks are willing to read. So here goes.

MICHAEL

I was talking to a friend of mine last night and telling him about Michael’s stressed out demeanor since the wreck last Thursday, and my friend – who is a professional counselor – advised me to back off. Stop trying to micromanage Michael’s life. My first thought was to tell him where to head in, because Michael is MY son and I think I know him better than anyone else in the world. Then later I thought about it and I thought yep, he’s right. I’ve got to take my medicine. I’ve got to shut up and let the boy stumble. Not fun, but I am trying.

COOKING IS CARING

A friend texted me last night and told me her son was biking to a friend’s house yesterday and wrecked his bike. I immediately felt my heart start pounding. It’s so scary when your child is in a wreck and hurt, I well know. She was spending the night in the hospital. I’ve never been able to sleep at all when someone I love is in the hospital. Such a scary feeling. So today I am making some homemade chicken and dumplings and blueberry muffins for their supper. I cannot fix the situation, but I can give them a good supper.

[Yes, I know the stories above are a teeny bit over 100 words but I'm getting there.]

VIDEO HATRED

I like to check out websites with interesting content, but I have become very jaded and cynical. Every time I go on a new website there is some video running somewhere on the page. I start reading the content and the video starts; sometimes more than one video. The noise is so distracting. I have to scroll around and find the annoying video. I cannot always make it stop. If I could write a letter to complain it would say: if I see you’ve got an annoying video on a page know this: I will NOT buy anything from your company.

MARK RICHT

I was dismayed to see that Mark Richt is Stepping Down as head coach of the University of Georgia football team. He’s coached there for 15 years and he’s a wonderful human being as well as a winning coach. He cares about his players and has been known to say things like, if you miss the punt it’s OK, we’re going to love you anyway. The article on the UGA website is a bit fuzzy on whether or not he was fired. It implies perhaps he is going to take on some other job at UGA. They should be more honest.

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I love this!

O Christmas Tree

Well it started out a yucko day because we were all pretty upset about Michael's car accident last night, and nobody slept well.He is OK and his friends are OK, and I've told him over and over that human beings are far more important than automobiles.

I took Michael over to the tow place to get his stuff out of the car. Not my first rodeo at a place like that, but those places are always depressing, seeing all the bashed up cars.

However, after running some errands, we decided to go ahead with our traditional Black Friday plans - which have nothing to do with shopping. You couldn't pay me to go to a mall today, or anywhere near one.

Michael and his friend Eric helped me decorate the Christmas tree. No matter what happens with cars or finances or any sort of material issues, we WILL have Christmas.

Amen.

Thanksgiving Drama

Well, my brother came in Wednesday afternoon and we had our big meal Wednesday night, because Michael had to work yesterday. I posted this on Facebook yesterday:

The Thompsons had a small but delightful celebration. All the "big" cooking was done last night because that's when we could all be together. Michael had to work all afternoon today and Bruce had to go home this afternoon and be at work tomorrow morning. So last night was the feast -- steaks, scallops, homemade mashed potatoes, squash casserole, roasted onions/carrots, pecan pie, and Apricot Brandy pound cake. YUM.
Today, Bruce and I went to lunch at Hudson Grille when Michael was working and I had the traditional lunch - salad, turkey, dressing, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and apple pie. Bruce had a ginormous burger. We both could only eat a fraction of our food, so we walked out with several takeout boxes and there's enough food left over from my lunch to feed Mother and I dinner -- although I may not eat again until Saturday! HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

So last night, after dinner, I was in my bathrobe watching TV and I got a call from a friend, LeeAnn, whose daughter is a friend of Michael's. She had seen Michael standing outside his car in front of the mall and he had been in a wreck. LeeAnn and her wonderful husband picked up Michael and his friend and brought them home.

Michael was turning left and another car came out of nowhere and hit him. He got cited because he was turning, though. He was SO upset. Really really upset. The car wasn't that badly damaged but it had to be towed.

I hope the car can be fixed. We don't need all this extra stress right here at the holidays, but I just keep telling myself it could have been worse.

Michael has final exams Monday. It's his last day of class, though.

Let's hope Christmas will be drama free!

Real Southern Cooking

I was born in Augusta Georgia and I started cooking [real cooking, not just tuna salad and jello] when I was about 10, so I’ve been cooking now for over 40 years. I’ve lived in either Georgia or Tennessee my entire life, and I come from a long line of strong Southern women who were good cooks. So I know about southern cooking.

Mamaw Hasty, my mother’s mother, was a FANTASTIC cook. I always say when I get to heaven my first meal will be Mamaw’s fried chicken and homemade biscuits and gravy. My daddy loved her green beans above any other food in the world, and she always made them for him, because he had a fit over them. I’ve never tasted green beans that good since she died.

Over at the Bitter Southerner they got a professional food writer to come up with what they call The Seven Essential Southern Dishes. This is troubling for a couple of reasons. One, they left off fried chicken. I’m sure it was deliberate – what better marketing than to get folks riled up. Second, they left off barbeque. That’s just flat out wrong.

Then again, to be fair, barbeque deserves its own article, because it IS in a class by itself.

I told my mother [at 81 years old a true old southern lady] about my issues with the BS article and she talked me through how Mamaw made green beans, and other issues I had with the article.

My Mamaw cooked GREEN BEANS until they fell apart. She stringed them first – you always pinch off the ends and pull the strings off, and rinse them under cold water. Put them in a pot and cover with water and put in a hunk of fatback the size of your fist, plus a teaspoon of salt. (She always rinsed off her fatback under cold water, and didn’t use that curing salt that came on the meat.) Bring them to a boil, then cut them back to a low simmer, with the lid on, and cook 1-3 hours. She always kind of went by when the fatback got done. She never called it fatback – she called it streak of lean. If you can’t find fatback, just use a couple of pieces of raw bacon.

Of course, when you refrigerate the beans then later pull them out, you skim off the fat, at least we do. My grandfather or my dad always ate the fatback.

Mamaw attended Bessie Tift College and majored in Home Economics, and she never put sugar in any vegetable. [Mother and I boil corn on the cob in a big pot with some sugar in the water, though. Makes the corn sweeter.]

Crisco was considered superior to other fats and used for biscuits and cakes. Bacon grease was poured into jars or cans and saved to cook with. Mother remembers that from World War II the fat [lard] was rationed and hard to buy. She never remembered corn oil or canola oil – liquid fats like that were hard to find, and expensive. Mamaw always used hog fat or butter. If you lived in the city you had to use your ration tickets for butter. Mother was glad that during the war they lived on a farm, because they always ate well.

Anyway, I digressed. Back to the Bitter Southerner article..

In an attempt to correct some of the issues I see with their list of foods and recipes, I’ve included here two tried and true recipes and tips.

 

CORNBREAD [also good for hoecakes, and corn muffins]

* we use Lewis Grizzard's mama's recipe:

1 1/2 cups White Lily self-rising cornmeal [don’t use anything but White Lily; you don’t have to use baking powder, baking soda, or flour, if you use White Lily]

1 egg

1 cup buttermilk [you can use sweet milk or even canned milk but it won’t be as good]

2 heaping spoonfulls of Duke's mayonnaise

pinch salt

Mix it all together. Pour it in a cast iron skillet* that has been greased with Crisco or bacon drippings. Mamaw would put the grease in the iron skillet and put it in the oven and let it get real hot, then pour in the batter and put it back in the oven. That makes a nice brown crust on the outside of the cornbread. Cook it about 375 for 20-30 minutes. You can tell if the edges turn brown – light brown.

 

Pound Cake

Pound cake is quintessentially southern. I wrote an entire blog about it. Pound cake stars in my childhood memories – smelling a pound cake cooking is bliss.

 

1 stick butter [real butter, not margarine]

1 cup Crisco

3 cups sugar

Cream the butter/Crisco/sugar a long time. Really let the mixer cream it until it's like buttah, y'all.

Add in 5 large eggs, one at a time, just beating them in carefully, but not overbeating.

Set out 3 cups of cake flour in one bowl on the counter, and a 1 cup of sour cream. In the sour cream, mix in 1/4 tsp. baking soda. Alternate mixing in the sour cream and the flour, beating well after each addition but not overbeating, until everything is incorporated.

Add in 1 teaspoon vanilla, and one teaspoon almond flavoring.

Bake at 350 about 90 minutes. Check it after 80 minutes, if you don't know if your oven runs hot or cool. No oven is perfect.

SOME COMMON MISTAKES:

Use real butter and real sour cream. Don't try to go low fat. Use real vanilla extract and real almond extract. The fake, or "imitation" kinds are not as good. Be sure and grease and flour your pan well. I use a bundt pan that's nearly as old as me, and just give it a spray of Baker's Secret.

A good pound cake will actually be better the second day, as long as you keep it in a good cake carrier.

 

* A good cast iron skillet is a treasure. We have several that have been passed down in our family for decades. Apparently the South isn't the only region to recognize the value of cast iron. Check out this article from Bon Appetit magazine: How to Use a Cast Iron Skillet.

Above [in color] me and my brother with Mamaw and Papaw, about 1964; one of Mamaw's handwritten pages of recipes; Mamaw and my uncle Bobby around 1924.

Job Interview Hell

Since I am blogging about my work life, which I normally don't do, I thought I'd share some stories of some job interview situations that were bizarre. I've had countless job interviews over the years.

Sometimes I didn't want the job. Sometimes I was offered the job and turned it down. On a couple of occasions in my life I got a job I probably shouldn't have gotten but then I learned some interesting things -- so it all worked out OK in the end. After I had some therapy.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

Keep in mind while reading that I have worked for a number of different firms in my 25+ year paralegal career, and I have tons of interview "war stories." I have tons of case war stories, but you'll have to buy the book to hear those.

At a firm where I interviewed in Knoxville, one of my first job interviews ever, I was told that since I was right out of school I should pay THEM for the privilege of working there. They proceeded to offer me a job at a salary that wasn't actually enough for me to live on, which wasn't a surprise.

At another job interview in Knoxville I was told "Don't ever expect anyone to say thank you around here. We don't have time to hold your hand. We won't say anything to you unless you screw something up."

When I first moved to Atlanta I worked for about a year for a very demanding attorney. After I realized that particular job was never going to get any easier and I wasn't ever going to be any happier, I started interviewing for other jobs, off and on, for the next 5 years or so.

So I have a ton of job interviewing stories from those years, the mid 1990's.

Sometimes during those years I'd interview at firms where I learned that they wouldn't be able to hire me because of my current boss. Other defense attorneys feared her. They feared retaliation. She didn't play well with others. She had a reputation similar to that of a mafioso, which is sort of funny because she was from the sticks and had a Southern accent that made Bill Clinton sound like a Yankee.

When I had interviewed with her, after driving down to Atlanta from Knoxville and smoking in the car, she had told me I would have to quit smoking. I did, eventually, but only towards the end of the time I worked for her. She made me want to smoke more. She made me want to chain smoke, actually, because of the stress, but since I was only able to steal 2 brief smoke breaks in a day I was able to cut down drastically while working for her, and I finally quit.

During that time I had a phone interview with the legal department of a large company and one of the questions was "Do you smoke?" I said yes, but not necessarily at work -- I had already cut down and was trying to quit -- and the interviewer said very rudely "Well we don't like people who smoke and so this interview is TERMINATED." Now, I sort of understand that attitude, but we're talking twenty years ago, and I thought the question was really rude and how the call ended was really rude. Within a year or so I had stopped smoking. I had also learned that no paralegal ever stayed with that company very long.

I interviewed for a job years ago at a large, prestigious firm here in Atlanta, and part of the multi-step interview process was... weird. I got a call from the paralegal on the team who proceeded to ask me a lot of questions about my birth and my astrological sign. I am not kidding. When she found out I was born in July under the sign of Cancer, she was triumphant, telling me how fabulous it would be for me to join the team. Now, I think astrology is fun to dabble in - heck, my blog isn't called The Crab Chronicles because I like seafood, although I do love seafood. [I digress.] I would never make any sort of serious decision based on someone's birthday, though. Anyway, this same paralegal who interviewed me later turned out to be, well, very strange. Let's just say that. One day she said she had to leave early for a doctor's appointment. She never came back. The next day, from home, she  sent a very long email to the partner in charge of the team, telling that attorney in detail just what a terrible person she was, and a terrible lawyer. Soon after, the lawyer left the firm and left town.

Wow.

Another time, years ago, I had an interview with a much larger, even more prestigious firm, the kind of firm where there are original Picassos on the walls. The paralegal coordinator who interviewed me used a long sparkly purple pen that looked like it belonged in the backpack of a fifth grader. Oh...kay. Then she proceeded to ask me the sort of HR questions that I find really annoying and useless, like what's your biggest asset you can bring to the job, what's your biggest drawback, etc. I can always field those questions pretty easily. The question she asked that threw me, for a minute, was this one: "Why do your friends like you?" I did what I always do when I am nervous, I became instantly a comedienne, throwing out bad one liners. "Because I PAY THEM!" I said, chuckling. The purple pen was writing that down as I finished chuckling and looked at her. "Oh no, that's not my final answer, no, I was just kidding," I said. She looked at me in total puzzlement. OMG, I thought, I would be working in the same office with someone who was born without any sense of humor whatsoever. Yikes.

In hindsight I realized the perfect [funny] answer would have been "Friends? I don't have any friends." That might have gotten me some sympathy points, possibly even the job itself because that firm is what is known among the paralegal community as a sweatshop.

I interviewed with a defense firm a few years later that has a very good reputation in town. One of the partners who interviewed me had a voice exactly identical to Kevin Costner. I am very sensitive to voices and I have a very musical ear, so I always notice voices and accents. This was in the mid 1990's and Kevin Costner was hot hot hot. I wanted to close my eyes and pretend I was actually in the presence of Kevin Costner. I didn't. I was incredibly distracted, though, and my answers probably made no sense. The lawyer was pretty attractive, and that didn't help. Then again if he had talked like Kevin Costner and looked like George Wendt I might have gotten the giggles and blown the interview anyway..

A few years ago, I interviewed at a firm here where the founding partner was so paranoid about anyone in her office knowing she was interviewing candidates that the whole interview was conducted in her car, driving around Buckhead. She told me in addition to paralegal work, she wanted me to spy on all the associates in the offices and report to her what they were doing. She was sure they were cheating her. I was horrified. She didn't offer me the job, thank goodness.

I interviewed for a job that sounded pretty interesting, until I learned a bizarre but crucial fact. The attorney, a sole practitioner, had her office on a separate floor from my office. OK. I would get plenty of exercise, I thought, always a good thing. I didn't mind being the receptionist/paralegal. But then I learned my desk would be on the first floor and there would be nobody else around, and I would sit right in front of a door that faced the street. No security anywhere. I Googled the office and saw I'd be sitting right in front of a big plate glass window, too. By myself. In midtown. No other offices on the first floor. Anyone could walk in off the street. I seriously thought about it. I thought about getting a permit to carry a concealed weapon in my purse; not something I've ever wanted to do. Nope. Pass.

I interviewed once in Knoxville with a lawyer who had his secretary call me before the interview and ask every question you're not supposed to ask someone - are you married? Kids? Dating anyone? Age? Do you go to church? Etc. I was very young and I didn't know any better so I answered all the questions. I went in for a personal interview and later learned he hired a paralegal who was prettier than me. I'm actually glad I didn't get that job.

I turned down a job a couple of years ago that sounded really interesting at first. Boutique firm. Interesting cases. Nice offices. Not a bad commute. I found out that one of the partners I'd be working with closely refused to use anything but his Apple computer. Everyone else had HP computers. Hmmm... He also like to work at night, until late at night. His partner liked to come in early. They wanted me to answer the phones, do all the paralegal work, be the office manager, write marketing materials, clean up, etc. Now, I don't mind wearing many hats. BTDT and it can be kind of fun, particularly in a small firm. The pay was ridiculous, though. Just slightly above minimum wage. Plus they didn't pay parking.  Um... NO. The biggest mistake those guys made was letting me talk to the woman leaving the job, who whispered to me exactly WHY she was leaving, thus guaranteeing I would not want that job.

There's a small firm here in town where I interviewed and part of the process was a test to see if I could read the partner's handwriting. He wrote all his briefs out by hand. Refused to use a computer. I don't mind typing briefs, but trying to read his handwriting was like trying to read Chinese. By the time I was through with that interview I was sweating and feeling nauseated.

I interviewed once at a firm that handled all the defense work for one insurance company, and to get into the office I had to press a buzzer and appear in front of a camera. The door stayed locked at all times. Each of the 4 attorneys I interviewed with separately asked me variations on the same questions: How do you handle stress? How would you handle it if someone called you up and yelled at you on the phone? How would you handle being threatened? How do you deal with people who are very unhappy and won't stop calling you? Have you ever had a client yell at you? Why? How did you handle it? Do you think clients have the right to cuss you out? How would you handle cursing and threats of severe harm?

By the end of all those questions I thought to myself, y'all must pop Xanax like tic tacs around here. No thank you.

This isn't an interview anecdote but I will close with it anyway. I once had a very elderly attorney scold me because as I was getting a cup of coffee some attorney told me a joke and I laughed, out loud. The old attorney glared at me and said "This is a LAW FIRM. We don't LAUGH around here."

True. Very true.

After that, I confined my laughter to after hours, at a bar with everyone else in the local legal community.

A Rockstar Employee

I read an ad the other day for a “Rockstar profile writer” and I responded to the ad, with great excitement, because it sounded like a terrific job. Writing full-time? Interviewing interesting people? I was practically drooling I was so excited.

It felt really weird. The application asked for links to my best stories and a link to my LinkedIn profile, and a photo. The application didn’t give me a chance to write a normal cover letter or send a resume, which I thought was weird. Then again, I got the impression that the ad was written by someone in their 20’s, or possibly 30’s. I don’t know many millenials who use the word “rockstar.”

The word “rockstar” to me conjures up an image of Jim Morrison, who was the quintessential “rockstar.” His defining characteristic, to me, was that he used a lot of drugs and died young. Was he a genius? Debatable, but probably. I don’t think any employers truly want a “rockstar” – someone who lives fast and furious and burns out.

I think what an employer truly wants is someone who stands out from the crowd by being extremely dedicated to the job, loyal to a fault, and willing to go the extra mile to get things done. What would you call such a person? “Rockstar” seems the opposite of that. “Rockstar” seems to imply youth. Then again the Rolling Stones are bonafide “rockstars” and also grandpas and eligible for social security.

There is a perception in the business world that someone in their 50’s shouldn’t be hired because they will not be as productive as someone younger. I understand that perception. When I was in my 20’s I felt the same way.

Now that I am in my 50’s, though, I see the other side of the coin.

Since I missed the chance to write a real cover letter, I wanted to respond to the ad and explain why I would be the perfect person for the writing position.

What most people don’t realize about being a paralegal is that it develops a lot of skill sets critical to being a good journalist or writer.

RESPONSIBILITIES (what you'll be doing)

Researching and writing original content. I’ve been writing a blog since 2005 and I’ve written more than 3,000 blog entries here at The Crab Chronicles. I’ve also written many articles for online and print publications. Like, hundreds of them. I’ve also written website materials for myself and for a number of lawyers.

Reading background material and preparing interview questions. In my paralegal life, I’ve read literally thousands of pages of depositions and file materials and called and interviewed witnesses. Not once or twice, but literally hundreds of times. I’ve interviewed CEOs of companies, store clerks, and all sorts of folks in between.

Interviewing top business executives. I was an employment law paralegal for 15 years. I’ve interviewed countless business executives – not about fun profiles of them either, about touchy subjects like why they’ve been accused of sexual harassment. If I can handle those interviews I can handle anything.

Crafting catchy headlines. Every time I write a blog headline I keep in mind what search engines will pick up. The first time I read the definition of the term “SEO” [search engine optimization] I laughed because I’d been doing SEO for years already.

Preparing irresistible story ideas. What makes an “irresistible story idea”? Once that’s defined I will be able to take the ball and run with it.

Email intro'ing clients to our photographers. That sounds like standard business correspondence, not anything terribly difficult. If I’m trying to describe the photographer in a positive way, I can do that. It’s like writing a press release.

Interfacing with countless internal cloud-based tools like Slack and Trello. I’ve never used Slack or Trello. However, I just watched several videos about them. I understand why one would use them when employees are scattered around and working from home. Being in the same room with someone and handing them paper? That’s so yesterday. Trello looks like a more evolved version of Outlook, but it looks pretty easy to use.

Editing your colleague's stories. I’ve been editing briefs for lawyers for many years. I’ve also edited website content for lawyers. I’ve edited my mother’s blogs for years now. I’ve edited countless papers for my children, which is why they get good grades in English. Editing is my favorite thing to do, next to writing.

QUALIFICATIONS (skills you should have)

● 3+ years of professional writing experience. I have been a professional writer for more than 6 years and I have a master’s degree in Creative Writing.

● Skilled at writing 2,000 word features and 500 word stories alike. I’ve written two books and I’m working on a third. I’ve written more than 3,000 blogs, most of which are shorter than 500 words.

● Outstanding interview skills. As a paralegal, I interviewed witnesses countless times. I’ve interviewed many people for my blog featured called Twenty Questions. I worked for a newspaper once and got to interview famous people. No sweat. I can interview anyone about anything.

● Terrific researcher and master at LinkedIn and Google advanced searches. I currently work for a publisher and I spend a good deal of time researching. I was researching online starting in 1993, when most of you reading this were in grade school.

● A compulsion for impeccable attention-to-detail. I worked for lawyers for many years. If I had not been detail-oriented I wouldn’t have lasted 6 months as a paralegal.

● Exceptional ability to tell stories. I come from a family of storytellers. I love to tell stories, which is why I love to write. Most of my 3,000+ blogs are my written stories. I’ve also written 2 books and 3 feature-length screenplays, which is taking storytelling to a whole other level.

● Ability to translate complex ideas into simple ones. Talking to legal clients often involves explaining lawsuit complexities in easy-to-digest ways, and I’ve done that countless times. Also, I have read my kids’ school textbooks and explained concepts to them in simplified terms many many times.

● You know how to dive deep into someone's background, cut through the fat & get to the core of what's truly fascinating about them. Yes, I do. I learned this from attorneys, who hate anyone in their office wasting time. Cutting through BS is an important legal office skill.

● Can perform at high-quality under tight deadlines. I’ve done that my entire career.

● Whiz at headline writing and crafting SEO titles. Yep.

● Copy editor extraordinaire. Yep. Lawyers have given me Appeals Court and Supreme Court briefs to edit.

● 100% reliable. Always. I don’t drink, do drugs, smoke or drive anywhere at night, so yeah, this one is covered. I can also supply you with names of former employers who will vouch for me on this one.

● Killer communicator, both written and verbal. Read my blog. Call me.

● Self-directed. I’ve been mostly working from home now for years. My whole life is about being self-directed. I take care of myself, my mom, my son, an old house, my car, my dog, my career - all myself. All the time.

● Can start right away and hit the ground running. I can start on Thanksgiving if necessary. We're eating in the early afternoon and not watching football.

TEN MORE REASONS WHY I WOULD BE AWESOME – yeah, some of these are things you can’t ask me in an interview

1. I am looking for a job where I can stay for the next 10-20 years, not a stepping stone to another job.
2. I write every day, 300-3,000 words, whether I am getting paid or not.
3. I do not have small children at home and there is zero chance I will get pregnant and have to deal with childcare issues.
4. I’m not married and I don’t date so romance will never divert my attention.
5. I hate drama and BS. I will go to great lengths to avoid both.
6. I write every day, 300-3,000 words, whether I am getting paid or not.
7. I may be over 40 but I actually LIKE learning new technology things like Slack and Trello.
8. I have a terrific sense of humor and that often comes through in my writing.
9. You will never find anyone any nicer than me.
10. My threshold for boredom is very low, so I like to stay busy.

From My Resume:

Editorships:

            Assistant Editor The Big Bold Beautiful Blog, June 2011- January 2012

            A Marietta Gal's View (Editor only), July 2009 - present

            Editor, Home Depot legal departmental newsletter, The Legal Eagle, 2005-2006

            Contributing Editor, Chambers Mabry McClelland & Brooks paralegal guide, 1996

 

Blogs: 

The Write Rainmaker [my blog about writing services for small business owners]

The Crab Chronicles [daily blog] Writer and Editor, 2005-present

The Word Ocean devoted to publishing poetry by Southern poets

 

Recent Web Articles:

            A Fun Time At the Boneyard, Atlanta Area Mom’s Blog, 1/16/2015

            What Never to Say to Adoptive Parents, Atlanta Area Moms Blog, 3/10/15

            Ten Tips to Get Your Child to Eat, Atlanta Area Moms Blog, 4/1/15

            Cowgirls, (review), The Edge Atlanta, 5/19/14

            Eric Has Two Mothers, (guest blog), Monday Coffee and Other Stories, 01/29/2014

 

Recent Print Articles:

“Season of Ashes,” in Georgia Backroads Magazine, Fall 2015

Prosthetics: To Wear or Not to Wear,” In Motion magazine September/October 2013, pages 16-17

 

Publications:

            Authored:

Adopting Alesia: My Crusade for My Russian Daughter (nonfiction) Wyatt-MacKenzie Press, June 2009

This is a memoir about my daughter’s adoption from Russia in 2004.

Jack's New Family (Children’s fiction) United Writer’s Press, January 2007

Jack is a 9 year old Russian orphan adopted by a single American Mom. He describes in his own words [in Russian and English text] how it feels to be

adopted and live in America.

Contributed:

Our Day of Passing: An Anthology of Short Stories, Poems and Essays, edited by Ingrid Hall, Summer 2015

My essay about my father’s death, “The Last Gift,” was included in this anthology about death.

Monday Coffee and Other Stories of Mothering Children With Special Needs, edited by Lyn Jones and Liz Whiteacre, (nonfiction), fall 2013

My poem “My Daughter Sings” is included in this anthology of essays and poetry  by moms of special needs kids.

The Divinity of Dogs: True Stories of Miracles Inspired by Man's Best Friend, edited by Jennifer Skiff (nonfiction) Simon and Schuster, October 2012

My story “The dogs that lived outside the orphanage” is included in this collection of true stories.

Snowflakes: A Flurry of Adoption Stories, edited by Teresa Kelleher (nonfiction), Wyatt-MacKenzie Press, November 2009.

My essay “Interesting Connections Observed” was included in this collection of stories and poems by adopted children and parents.

Call Me Okaasan: Adventures in Multicultural Mothering, edited by Suzanne Kamata (nonfiction) Wyatt-MacKenzie Press, May 2009. My essay, “Mothering My Russian-Speaking Children” was included in this collection of essays by mothers living all over the world. The book was named one of The Japan Times’ favorite books of 2009. Call Me Okaasan also won a bronze medal in the 2010 Independent Publisher's Book Awards competition.

Additional Writing (Play Reviews):

Guys and Dolls (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 11/4/13

Stomp (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 9/27/13

The Book Club Play (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 5/21/13

Stacey Todd Holt: from 'Swing' to Lead in 'The Producers' (Interview), The Edge Atlanta, 1/29/13

The Producers (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 1/29/13

Les Miserables (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 4/27/12

Billy Elliott: The Musical, (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 3/15/12

Spaghetti Squash, (Guest Blog), Adoption Under One Roof, 3/6/12

Memphis (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 2/2/12

Divided Among Themselves (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 10/3/11

Come Fly Away (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 8/5/11

A Lady With Whole-Life Swag, (Interview) The Big Bold Beautiful Blog, 8/3/11

Fiddler On the Roof (Review), The Edge Atlanta, 7/22/11

Website publications:

Adoption Under One Roof: Guest Columnist, Cooking With D, (September 2009-May 2011)

Education:

M.A. Creative Writing, University of Tennessee, Knoxville, 3.8 GPA

B.S. Drama, University of Georgia, Athens, 3.42 GPA

Honors:

• Golden Key National Honor Society, inducted 1984
• “The Lost Boy and the Train,” Poem, published in The Phoenix, the University of Tennessee literary magazine, 1990
• Finalist, Atlanta Film Festival Perfect Pitch contest, 2003, for screenplay “The Theory of Hip Movement”

photo by Lisa Amos

Pre-Holiday Runup

I keep a bucket out back for hauling gardening stuff and I noticed this morning that it's completely full of water. In the past several weeks we have gotten about 7 inches of water. Yikes. Now I will keep the rainwater because it's great for watering my plants but the sight of all that water freaks me out a bit. It hearkens back to the big floods of 2009..

Life is very slow these days, but that's a good thing.

Michael's last week of classes for the term is next week, and I spent a good deal of time helping him yesterday with end of term projects. One of them is a speech about Kazakhstan. "I guess I really should read up on the country, since I was born there." Well, yes, son. It's not just about yurts and horses. There is a lot to absorb. It's the 9th largest country in the world and has a fascinating history.

He is anxious about his 2 classes and hates that I have to help him, but as I see it, the fact he is living at home his freshman year is OK. I told him, truthfully, when I started college a senior roommate was crucial in making me study and learn how to organize my time. Accepting help is OK. Learning how to be a good student is just part of life. He hates homework and studying but he's smart enough so that he can make good grades with very little effort. He says he doesn't always understand what he reads. I told him that's true of all college students. If you understood everything perfectly there would be no learning going on. He hasn't made any new friends among his college classmates but that will come in time.

Still trying to picture Thanksgiving next week. I bought steaks yesterday. Nothing says holidays like good steaks -- in my house.

I had to run errands yesterday at 3:30 and I was horrified by the traffic. Then I realized it's the Friday before Thanksgiving, duh, and a lot of folks are likely taking next week off, the whole week. So the usual Friday traffic nightmare is even worse than usual.

I am so glad we are not going anywhere next week.

To those who are curious, no, I haven't heard from my daughter. I seriously doubt I will hear from her or see her over the holidays. I last talked to her about 4 months ago, and I have no way to contact her. I wish things were different but they aren't, and I just pray for her these days.

A lot of mental energy has been expended lately praying for folks. I have an uncle who has been dealing with some medical issues that are troubling. Mother has been pretty upset about that but we've gotten great daily updates and prayers are still going up. I have a dear friend who is going through a life crisis and there's little I can do to help, but I pray she forges ahead on a new path without fear. Re-thinking your life when you're in your 50's is tough going.

I am still getting job alerts emailed to me and I read a description of a job the other day that is my ultimate dream job. It's interviewing people for magazine profiles, and writing several long profiles a month. Interviewing people and writing is my idea of heaven, particularly interesting people - athletes, entrepreneurs, entertainers.  I started the Twenty Questions section of this blog for the specific reason that it's fun to interview people and learn what they do. My interview with Nathaniel Lande is my favorite one ever.

I tell my son that education is not something that starts and ends with school. Education is a lifelong process. I love learning about people - what other subject is more fascinating?!

Pre-Holiday Rant

I realized just yesterday that Thanksgiving is NEXT WEEK. Holy Terduckens Batman! Next week the Christmas madness really kicks into high gear. I don't want to get off on a rant here [in my head I hear Dennis Miller's voice saying that] but we are NOT READY.

We may never be ready, unless I get hold of a truckload of Xanax sometime soon.*

Then again, unlike most people, we stay home and family comes to us, family meaning my brother, who comes in Wednesday night and leaves Thursday afternoon because he has to work Friday. Everyone else - grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. - is either dead or not coming to my house, which is fine by me. [Actually, the dead relatives are welcome to come hang out.]

Holidays are still stressful to me, though. Just the thought of the pre-Thanksgiving crowd at Kroger makes me want to run and hide.

So I wanted to just let fly with some rants, for a minute. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

CHRISTMAS MERCHANDISING -- before Halloween was even over I saw Christmas merchandise being stocked at CVS. I hate to sound Scroogey, but that's not about celebrating the birth of Christ, or celebrating family, or whatever noble sentiment one might associate with the holiday. It's about MONEY. Period. It gives me a small bit of satisfaction to picture Jesus with a whip creating havoc in the CVS or the Target or wherever. "And Jesus entered the temple and drove out all those who were buying and selling in the temple, and overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who were selling doves." Matthew 21:12

SNARKY VOICEMAIL GREETINGS -- I called someone the other day and had to hear "I'll get back to you at my earliest convenience." Really? So whenever the hell you feel like returning calls, you MIGHT get back to me?! Thanks. That's the verbal equivalent of the bouncer outside a nightclub not letting me in because I'm not pretty enough. My revenge on people who use that "my earliest convenience" phrase is to just not leave any message. I wish I had the guts to say something like "Yes, this is Officer Smith with the State Patrol, just wanted to know we've located your vehicle and I'm afraid it's currently a blazing car-b-que on I-285." 

Father's Talk With Son About Paris Terror Attack --OK, I'm sorry, but I thought the father's response to his child was ridiculous. The bad guys have guns and we have flowers and candles?! The child isn't stupid. He needs reassurance the bad guys won't win. I disagree with people who say how moving this was. It was idiotic. I want to hug that child and say Listen, ISIS won't win because we have BIGGER guns and more people!

SNARKY GUESTS -- Had a guest in the house recently who informed me that the floor in the guest bathroom was really not up to her standards of cleanliness and I needed to get in there with some industrial-type cleaner. I was so stunned, I had no words to reply with, other than "Get the F* out of my house" but that might sound like an over-reaction, so I exercised a tremendous amount of self-control and merely said "Sorry. We can't afford a maid right now."

TURKEY PURISTS -- A friend posted on Facebook that she needed suggestions about cooking Thanksgiving dinner for a huge crowd of people, and I suggested she poach the turkey in the crockpot. You buy a turkey breast and stick it in the crockpot with some herbs and butter, cover it with chicken broth and cook it all day. At the end of the day, you have incredibly moist and delicious turkey. You don't have the Norman Rockwell painting of the perfectly browned bird, no, but you have turkey THAT'S NOT DRY AND TASTELESS! Jeez, let go of the past already.

At my house, we don't eat turkey. Nobody likes it. We make do with a nice beef tenderloin, a couple of side dishes, a cold beer and pumpkin or pecan pie. Then we sit around and talk to each other instead of watching football on TV. Yeah, we're weird. Get over it.

CABLE COMPANIES -- in the recent dustup with Direct TV and Comcast, I informed both companies that I would not respond to any emailed bills, only paper bills. I keep getting emailed bills. I never should have given them my email address. Lesson learned. When they find that I don't pay emailed bills they will call me, of course, and I will tell them politely why my money goes out of here on paper, if I'm asked to pay someone, on paper. Call me a Luddite. I don't care.

PEOPLE WHO IGNORE EMAILS -- If you don't like to write long emails that's fine. Just respond in some way -- one sentence is fine. It lets me know you got the email and read it and you're not lying dead in front of your computer. Complete silence, however, is just rude.

ANTHONY BOURDAIN NEEDS TO CHECK INTO REHAB ALREADY AND SHUT UP! Guy Fieri rocks - Bless his little square peroxided head, he's going verbally toe-to-toe with the giant asshat of the food world, Anthony Bourdain [I think "bourdain" is a French word meaning verbose blithering idiot]. I LOVED reading Guy Fieri Fires Back at Anthony Bourdain: He's Definitely Gotta Have Issues. Um, yes. Bourdain cannot cook. All he can do is criticize. Kudos to Alton Brown, too:

"Alton Brown, a prolific cookbook author and Food Network host, also took issue with Bourdain’s sense of superiority. “When was the last time you saw Anthony Bourdain actually cook anything?” he said. “I’ve spent 14 years cooking my own food on television and I’ve never seen him cook a meal.” - People

 

*to any potential employers: I don't take Xanax. Never have. Never will. When I get stressed out I just go in the bathroom and cry for a while, then reach for the peanut M&Ms, not drugs or alcohol.

Hopes and Prayers for Our Girls

Yesterday my father would have turned 85 years old. I didn't really remember it was his birthday until later in the day, to be honest. I had watched the Dawgs defeat Auburn, which Dad would have loved. We ate Mexican food from Eduardo's for dinner, which Dad would have tolerated.

The weather was chilly but clear, and I walked Lola several times. Dad always loved getting outside on a pretty day. He loved dogs.

The one thing that would have puzzled him is why I couldn't call my daughter and wish her a happy Gotcha Day.

In 2004 when I appeared in a Russian courtroom for my daughter's adoption hearing, I was very happy that it was my father's birthday. I thought that was a good omen.

Above, the two of us outside the courthouse in Russia on adoption day, November 14, 2004.

My journey to adopt my daughter was long and arduous, as I've documented in my book Adopting Alesia. Just finding the money to adopt her and then overcoming so many obstacles along the way -- the orphanage director who didn't like Americans, the adoption agency who kept telling me to adopt another child, the many naysayers among my friends and family who told me I was crazy -- that was a journey of faith and a very tough road. I really thought once I got her home, and Alesia learned English, and learned what it was like to live in a family, that everything would be fine. It never occurred to me that the process of acclimating her to a new country, new family, and new life would be so incredibly difficult.

I had Alesia here at home with me from December 2004 until June 2011, and then she left, at my request. She was going through a time of pushing the boundaries as hard as possible, experimenting with every drug and drink out there, and determined to do exactly as she pleased and to hell with the consequences. I didn't know what to do any more. All I knew was that I had to keep Mother and Michael safe.

What made the ordeal worse was that I simply couldn't talk to her. I couldn't reason with her. I tried. My friends Bronwyn and Leslie -- both very wise ladies who knew and loved Alesia -- tried, and failed. I took her back to the therapist, and she advised me to lock Alesia in her room at night so that she couldn't escape. [Alesia had been climbing out the window every night for months, to go out partying all night.]

The very simple concept of cause and effect was incomprehensible to my daughter. For example, IF you shoplift, you will be arrested. IF you take too many drugs you will overdose. [two terrible experiences I never wished for her]

In the 4.5 years since she's been gone, I have read a lot and commiserated with a lot of other moms of girls adopted from Russia and other countries. We've all had to deal with a very sad reality: most of our girls will bolt once they are 18, and they will seek out love in a lot of scary and dangerous ways. My friend Cindy [adoptive mom to more than a dozen girls] has watched many of her girls seek out their birthmoms and then learn that those women are still incapable of parenting because drugs and alcohol are still more attractive to them than being a good example to their children. Cindy has a number of grandbabies born to these girls who think having a baby will bring them love, not realizing they are facing a huge burden, not a cure for loneliness.

I have a friend whose daughter is 19 years old and who is pregnant and still drinking. So she will likely have a child with the same type of brain damage. Thus the sad cycle continues.

For most of our adopted girls, the early trauma suffered with birthmoms or in orphanages pales in comparison to the burden of trying to function in a world where their brains simply cannot really comprehend cause and effect thinking, and they have huge issues with memory. Fetal alcohol exposure causes, among other things, what's called "swiss cheese memory." You tell a girl something one day and she has forgotten it by the next day. It's very difficult for facts and ideas to stay put in a brain that doesn't function properly. Therefore just finishing high school is very difficult. Remembering to use birth control is difficult. Remembering that drugs are bad for you is difficult.

Perhaps worst of all, most of these girls and young women refuse to believe their brains don't work properly. Simple tasks of daily life will always be a challenge, therefore they will need help all their lives. If they do not find a life partner who is really devoted and good, that makes everything much more difficult.

It breaks my heart.

However, my daughter is now 24 years old, and when I spoke to her last summer I detected some new maturity and intelligence. She doesn't call me often and I don't have any way to call her, but I still hold out hope. I pray for her every day -- and for all the adopted girls of all my friends. None of them asked for their lives to be so challenging, but it's the reality.

Please continue to pray for all these girls and young women. Miracles happen every.single.day.

Cutting Slack

I've been put into a position recently that many parents are unfamiliar with - in fact, none of my friends are in the same position. So I have nowhere to go for advice. My 19 year old son lives at home and goes to college and works part time.

So he's 19, and I try to cut him a lot of slack. I try not to "mama" him. If he were away at college and living in a dorm there would be no mothering available, except by phone. He would be on his own and I would be happily unaware of him partying until 4 a.m.

Let me emphasize this: HAPPILY UNAWARE

Yet, due to financial circumstances beyond my control, I am here and he is here living in the same home. Plus, I have an 81 year old in the same home. So for instance yesterday afternoon I texted Michael when he was in his last class and said hey, please stop by CVS and pick up some of the leg cramp pills for Granny, she is totally out. A little while later, he called me.

"Did you pick up the pills?" I asked.

"No. CVS is not on the way home!" he griped.

"Where are you now?" I asked.

"In the driveway."

Is this a common thing? Do most teens sit in the driveway, in their cars, and return calls?!?

When he got in, I asked him why he didn't get the pills. "I didn't go near CVS!" he said, and stalked off. [Clearly, he was HANGRY -- hunger + angry = hangry]

So I went in Mother's room and told her about it. "We already talked, Dee. He said last time he found the pills at Rite Aid, not CVS. It's fine," Mother said.

Michael went out later and got the pills for her. Good thing he did, as she had leg cramps in the night.

Michael got home long after dinner. He hasn't been eating much the past few days. I pulled out the salmon, rice, and asparagus and put them on the counter, then I went back to the family room and finished watching my movie. I resisted the almost overwhelming temptation to turn around and see how much food he ate. I know he ate all the salmon. Then he put his plate on the floor for Lola to lick. Next, I heard a lot of crunching. I don't know what that was about. Fritos? Cheetos? Don't know. I was just happy he got a vegetable, I think. Asparagus is his favorite.

When he comes in my room to show me his clothing choices I often want to scream things like HOLY MOTHER OF GOD DON'T WEAR BAGGY SEERSUCKER PANTS AND A TANK TOP TO SCHOOL ARE YOU INSANE?!?!?!?!?!! -- but I don't do that. I grit my teeth and try to remember when I wore Flashdance fashions to class at UGA and thought I looked awesome. My mother wouldn't have let me leave the house wearing a torn baggy sweatshirt.

He has tons of nice clothes, but he likes to be creative. Oh..... KAY.

I am an expert at biting my tongue.

Mother's favorite trick is to say "Well it's almost time for Jeopardy. Where is Michael? Will he be here for supper? What's he doing? Who's he with?"

Then I have to remind her that I do not have a tracking device on him and he is free to come and go as he pleases, pretty much. He's a great guy, 95% of the time.

Anyway, it's tricky, negotiating life with a 19 year old. Then again, as I watched the movie Unbroken last night I thought well, as long as I'm not in a Japanese prisoner of war camp I'm doing just fine..