Author Archives: Lib

Lib Goes To The Library – Part 5

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Here it is – through the course of renewing this book repeatedly, and beyond that of which is apparently allowed (see previous post), I have discovered so much about myself.

I have the attention span of a toddler, the shallow investment of an angsty teen, the procrastination of a college kid, and the evasion tack of one unnamed actor/ former NFL player being cross-examined on the stand.

Did I know these things before now? Maybe … but with this experiment of reading a book thoroughly through, I think it’s been made much clearer to me; I would even venture to say undeniably so. Continue reading

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Brexit – A Soap Box Production

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I woke up to my Twitter timeline blowing up over Brexit. If you don’t know what Brexit is, I’m sorry you don’t follow major world events that could ultimately affect your future or your children’s futures in some way, shape, form or other. There’s nothing I can really do for you if this is the case. I suppose a well-wish of Godspeed back to your bubble is about all I can offer you. Perhaps the next time you choose to emerge from beneath your Unaware Rock, something more to your liking or level of understanding will be taking place such as who won The Voice or which Bachelorette got the boot. If you are this person, this post is exactly for you, but because it will likely make you think about things beyond what’s right in front of your face, you may not want to read it. Continue reading

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Lib Goes To The Library – Part 4

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A continuation of  Lib Goes To The Library,  Lib Goes To The Library – Part 2, and Part 3

So yes, I’ve been reduced to coercing  a rather straight laced librarian into breaking the rules. Maybe not break so much as bend them a bit. Have you ever seen a librarian that bends the rules? It went something like this: Continue reading

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The Particpant – A Soap Box Production

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This is the soap box I promised last week. If you haven’t read where I’m going with this, you can do so here. By the way, if you think everyone deserves a participation ribbon, this post is NOT for you. You’ve been warned.  Continue reading

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The Martian

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Clifford and I watched The Martian Saturday night. We hadn’t had a date night in forever because of, well, life. So it was great, but for the record, I don’t think he’ll be watching a sci-fi flick with me again anytime soon. Continue reading

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Scripps Made Me Laugh – Then Cry

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During the 5th grade spelling bee, I went out on the word flamingo. Two m’s. I had made it to the final three or four. Jonathan Stair picked up my slack, having spelled flamingo correctly, and ran with it. He may have won the whole thing, I can’t quite recall. So having participated in at least one bee back in the day, I appreciate the preparation and the stress that goes into such an endeavor. I watch the Scripps National Spelling Bee blips on the net here and there and am so stoked my spelling bee days never made it beyond the New Paris Elementary gym floor.

So when this popped up into my Twitter timeline this week, I nearly spit out my drink. Continue reading

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Lib Goes To The Library – Part 3

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A continuation of  Lib Goes To The Library and Lib Goes To The Library – Part 2

I renewed it again. I will read a book dammit. I will read THIS book. It’s going to happen – mark my words.

 

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The Art Of The Rolling Stop

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I’ve had it mentioned to me on more than one occassion – “That wasn’t a stop.” My response is always the same. “Yes, it was. It was a rolling stop.”

I was born into a life of breezing through two-ways and all-ways and everything in between. Being raised on back country roads lends itself to a slightly wider berth in the interpretation department of vehicular rules and regulations than it does for the average urban Joe.

Here’s the thing, a true rolling stop takes finesse. Some may call it sloppy driving or poor judgement , but I call it art. A real rolling stop is a form that should be celebrated for the Venus de Milo that it is.  It’s not a pause, or a brief moment of looking all ways. It is a stop. If you believe it, the cops will believe it, too.

I should know.

3AM on a dark island road somewhere in Savannah.  I rolled.  Immediately after the turn, the blue lights glowed in the rearview.  I pulled over, knowing full well why I was being pulled over, and admitting so the moment the window went down. The police officer and I had a wonderful chat. I explained the virtues of a rolling stop for a young 20 something female driving home at 3 in the morning on a dark island road in a dangerous city all by her lonesome.  Sold. There was no ticket given, no warning either. I think I may have even received an apology for him possibly scaring me at such an hour in such a desolate area.  In hindsight, that was the only nice cop I ever met during my time in Savannah. Maybe I’ll share my other cop encounters next week.

Anyway, no matter the approach, the key  is to have plausible deniability. Either you witness the indicator brush the top of the 0 mph ever so slightly before moving forward, OR convince yourself the speedometer is broken, OR go the organic route by closing your eyes and feeling the stop in your bones. Though don’t keep your eyes closed. Do like a long blink. Seriously, don’t drive with your eyes closed. Any of these techniques can work, but you have to practice. The best method is to possibly combine all three at a given time. It’s a delicate balance and it’s not for the faint of heart.  I feel very confident in my ability to pull it off, but  few could truly perfect it as I have, but then I also feel 96% of the population that have been granted a license should have it revoked.

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Lib Goes To The Library – Part 2

 

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A continuation of  Lib Goes To The Library

 

I had to renew the book.

 

 

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Aunt Lee

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It was my first trip to Atlanta with Clifford. His folks were throwing a party. I don’t recall the occasion. For them it could have been to celebrate a momentous life event or to simply celebrate the friendships they’d cultivated in their years since immigrating to the states. See, when I first met Clifford, his family had only been here for four years. They had no immediate family when they first arrived stateside, so the friendships they built were important to them.  There was one group in particular, however, that went beyond the box of “beloved friends”. Family isn’t always blood, and that’s what they were. They were family.

So when people started arriving and being introduced to Clifford’s female friend, I had already heard a lot about them. The Orffs – they were a package deal so it seemed. Three boys, the folks, Uncle Bob and Aunt Lee. They were  New Yorkers that had somehow found their way down South. I didn’t have to understand it, but as I longed for Northern conversations, I quickly accepted it (says the Hoosier umpteen years later still living well below the Mason-Dixon line). They were loud. They were funny. And they knew how to drink. I liked them immediately.

This is them (basically).

This is them (and Scott).

There was one standout among them, though. She had me at “Darlin”. Aunt Lee became my favorite person on the planet that day. Though married, she was an independent woman. She owned her own business when she didn’t need to work. She was smart, gorgeous, and so full of love – for everyone. It radiated off her in a way I can’t describe, but the moment she walked into a room, the energy changed. There was light. It was a bright light. Her smile was so sincere and her laugh was so contagious. She had everyone’s attention and we were all wrapped around her finger, yet she had no idea. That’s what made her so special.

A little ball of sunshine and some sisterly love.

Sisterly love.

Through the years she would offer me words of wisdom about sisters, spouses and stuff. She had a faith in Clifford and I that warmed my heart. She took me to pick out our wedding bands. She welcomed us to our new home. She suffered losses but became all the stronger for them. She was a selfless and steady rock for others over and over and over again. She never met a stranger and she loved with her whole heart.  Aunt Lee was the type of person everyone should strive to be. I can only hope to one day have an ounce of the compassion and the love this woman expressed and exuded on a daily basis.

We lose people throughout our lives. It’s just what we do. Some we lose because of distance. Some we lose because of pride. Some we lose because we change and grow. And some we lose because it’s simply their time to go.  The latter forces us to evaluate our lives a little more closely. It forces us to reflect on who we are now and compare that to who we once were, all while contemplating who we could be. I met Aunt Lee 17 years ago. My life was changed for the better for having had her in it, no matter how short that time was cut. We could never have enough Aunt Lee in our lives. Take a moment today, tomorrow, soon, to contemplate who you could be. Sieze the day, darlins. She always did.

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