For the love of driving....

Today has been stressful, busy, and unsatisfying. I have been running arround like a nutria rat sans it's head and it's barely noon. What I would give for a drive.... A real drive through the twist and turns in the maze New Orleans calls a freeway system. I'd like a drive at full speed with just enough traffic to challenge my reflexes. I crave the control, the acceleration, and the fluidness of driving. I travel to Northshore from the Westbank two or three times a week. I know the route well and there are just enough curves, bridges, inclines, and merges to keep my thoughts on the task at hand; drive like a bat out of hell. It's to the point now that I know exactly when to down shift. Feel the rush of the RPMs as the needles jumps to attention and the torque pushes me back into the seat. It's almost like a hug from my car. She likes the drive almost as much as I do. My drive starts at the toll boothes. There is a merging of 8 lanes into four on a semi-steep incline into a curve to the bridge. I floor it and fight my way into the front. The cityscape looms before me the mighty Mississippi River below. The road curves again under an overpass and arround the superdome. The freeway splits and I aim for the hard right to I-10 towards Slidell and gamble my way arround the turn at a speed only safe for the most attendant of drivers. I hit the turn with a kick to the gas, the suspension responds and the car glides arround a curve like a lover's touch. I smile and enjoy the moment. A brief straight way to loosen her up and I approach the highrise in third and my german girl flaunts all she has in a quickening of speed. Down in a coast and then arround again. Onward into greatness through a 2.8 liter narrow V-6 with a light curb weight, my fill of torque, and german engineerd suspension. There are many cars that may be faster, more expensive, and flashier, but my Jetta is the one I crave. There is only one other car that grabs my desire. The Mercedes Benz SLR McLaren. Check her out on the link up top. The quest to know the joy of learning her reflexes and handling overwhelms me. Anyone got half a mill to make her mine? All 600 plus horse powers of her. The SLR is beautiful. Zero~60 in a little over 3. Please let me live long enough for someone to will me enough money one day to own her. Day-dreaming again...
Give me a full tank of gas, light traffic, a pack of smokes and 38 minutes for one way and all is right in the world. The phone rings yet again and I am yanked back to my reality.
Have a good one.
Y'all take care,
Charissa

Escape Con 1, the quest for blue water...

I have only been back from vacation for 26 days and I am already plotting my next escape from the Big not so Easy. New Orleans really isn't a bad city. I just don't understand how I missed it so much. Example one: It's May and the temperature is 90+ degrees with 500% humidity. I stepped out of a cold shower and promptly started sweating again. My god, I have died and gone to hell where the demons have southern accents.
I miss the ocean especially the blue part. I see the Mighty Mississippi everyday, but it is brown. The only deep thoughts that river inspires are the ones that involve rope and the people that are making me angry. I'm sure your momma's told you all about the swift current of the Mississippi. A friend of mine suggested a murky, dark, gator infested bayou for my daydreaming, but the mosquitoes that inhabit the marsh will fly away with one of your limbs if aren't careful. Those cute over-priced pants I got the other day just wouldn't be as cute if I were missing a leg. Lake Pontchatrain is alright, but it's brown too. Driving over the twin span it looks bluish, but get in a boat and the brown reveals itself. Key West spoiled me, the only brown water there were the puddles on Duval street. On second thought I'm not even sure those puddles were water.....ewwww! Anyway~

~~~~Need Ocean~~~

On a serious note, I could spend hours looking at the ocean. Some of my shipmates are still serving out their sentences onboard the ship. They would tell me I'm crazy, but I miss being out to sea. No matter how homesick or frustrated I got with darn boat I never got tired of the ocean. Us crazy people have weird obsessions. Shopping, blue water, chocolate, escaping New Orleans. Can you be a lot crazy??

I guess I will have spend a lot of time at the pool. That won't be hard. I'm coaching a swim team. It is a volunteer position. I have 50+ kids, ages 5-17, for two hours a day, five days a week. Yes, my name is Charissa and I enjoy torture. Actually, I have a lot of fun. The pool water is blue. My kids are great. They try hard and they have a lot of heart; that's all I can ask. We have our first meet on Wednesday. I'm excited and slightly nervous. We are up against a bigger and more experienced team. The pool is not a soothing as the ocean. I do not have worry about some weird thing touching me in the pool. I guess everything has it's advantages. Speaking of which I must get over to the non-brown pool for swim practice.

Ya'll Take Care,

Charissa

In the company of friends..

A while back, a really good friend of mine gave me a one of those cutesy artwork kind of plaques with one of those little clever sayings written on it. I'll never forgot the saying, "If you have one good friend then you have more than your fair share." I've been blessed with a few really great friends. My friends are special people. (By special, I am not insinuating short bus kind of special. ) Anyone that can truly know me for any length of time and still like me has got to be a wonderful kind of person. I am more moody, demanding, and melo-dramatic than fifty beauty pagent contestants in need of midol. I need not mention talkative. Somehow through all of y faults my friends are still there for me. This blog is not the usual whiny, shallow, and only slightly funny blog. This blog is a tribute to the people who really know me and like me anyway. Thank you.

A friend will help you move.

A true friend will help you move a body

~~~~~

Laughter is the shortest distance between friends.

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Friendship doubles our joy and divides our grief.

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Good friends are hard to find, harder to leave, and impossible to forget.

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A simple friend thinks the friendship over when you have an argument.

A real friend knows that it's not a friendship until after you've had a fight.

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A friend is quick to listen, slow to judge and always ready to shop.

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Laughing when they shouln't be laughing is some of the best laughing friends do.

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A friend can tell how your day has been by the way you say "Hello."

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Retail Therapy~~

I had a very stressful day, today. I won't whine into the details, b/c it is all my fault for over scheduling myself anyway. However, the icing on the cake was I didn't even get a chance to nurture my frustrations with a little retail therapy. Just imagine rows and rows of beautiful new clothes in all the hottest colors whose greatest wish is to be purchased into a loving home. Imagine the sweet and caring shoes all lined up and just dying to show off my pedicure. Imagine all of the lonely bra and panty sets at Vicki's that want nothing more than to be the newest in my five drawer collection. Poor things they will have to waste away without me.

Oh, the guilt is too much to bare.

Online shopping is easy, convenient, and can be done in your PJ's. The problem with online shopping is it robs you off all the textures, colors, and the sensory overload I crave on days like today. Did I mention the instant gratification of getting something new and anticipation of planning an event just so I can wear it? I am a serious shopper. I must admit that I don't get to the mall as much as I like. One of my most favorite shopping partners got whisked off too California and life has not been the same with out her being readily available for shopping excursions. We met up and went on a road trip not to long ago. Four malls later, and let's just say that it will take many months for my bank account to recover. Beans and weenies for dinner bites, but you should see the great new outfits I got!!

My favorite place for retail therapy is Aventura Mall. The only draw back to Aventura is that it is a few miles north of Miami. Aventura is precisely 14 hours from New Orleans a tad far for a and after work jaunt. Maybe I could make a weekend trip?? Aventura has all of my favorite stores and valet parking (less distance to haul my new acquired treasures) My shopping/ ship buddy Jen and I once spent eight hours straight shopping at the mall in Puerto Rico. I said we were serious.

I actually dress up to go to the mall. Sales people are nicer and they are the gatekeepers of pertinent shopping knowledge. They know when the new stuff comes out, and the not as new stuff goes on sale.

Pier I is a great place for a mini-dose of retail therapy. It always smells fabulous. Ginger peach is exceptional. There are bright colors, a multitude of textures and everything fits at Pier I. Payless runs a close second, especially during BOGO.

All this talk of shopping has increased my need to engage in retail therapy. I think Target is still open. I'll catch up l8ter.

Yall Take Care,

Charissa

The Blog Beginning~

This is my first entry and suddenly the woman that never shuts up is at a loss for words. Can you blame me? What I write, is sent into the eternity of cyberspace for anyone who wants to read my deepest thoughts. Okay, so I could make my blog private, but that's dumb. My thoughts are not that deep anyway. My blog will just be an expression of my not so deep thoughts and ideas. I guess if I look at it that way, blogging is another way of expressing ideas, like painting or story telling. blah, blah, blah,

What was that about being at loss for words?

Who am I kidding? I'm southern woman. Talking is an art form. Give me a tall glass of super sweet ice tea, a pack of smokes, and I can talk for as long as takes the government to fill a pothole in New Orleans.

Hey, I think I'm funny too.

Don't get me wrong. There is special place in my heart for New Orleans. It's the place right next to my stomach. New Orleans, by far, has the best food in the world, but that is a whole other blog. Back to the trials of the Big Easy~~ The first thing I realized when I moved back to to New Orleans is there was some mighty big reasons I left in the first place. Corrupt Politicians, pot holes that deepen by the day, and public schools that teach semi-smart kids how to be competely illiterate are just a few of the reasons I wanted out. However, I must admit the most annoying thing about being from Nawalins' is that everyone knows your momma. You can't go to the store on the way to work with out someone asking you, "how is your mom and them?" This may sound charming, but it isn't for someone who is perpetually late and doesn't enjoy explaining the last seven years of my life before I have had my morning cup a joe and 15 cigarettes. One more thing, maybe I'm crazy, but why doesn't anyone ever ask about my Daddy? ~~Anyway~~

This blog is my way of venting, thinking and hopefully improving my creative writing. I do have a long term goal of writing a book one day that actual sells a few copies. Before I go, I must give credit to the "New Yorker" who "learned" me about blogging.

You can check out his blog at newyorkerfarfromhome.blogspot.com

Well, Have a good one.

Y'all take care and tell your Mom and them I said hello.

~Charissa