Mom-isms

I love my Mother. She's beautiful, funny, fun to be around, and I find myself evolving into a version of her more and more each year.

This is a fact that I am overall very happy with. I look like her, I act like her, and my siblings will tell you that I am a "second mom" to them...whether they like it or not.

I got her smile, her hips, her love for wine and even her singing voice. Of all of this, I am very happy with. Well, you can have the hips but I'll take the rest.

One thing my mother does is confuse her Proper Nouns. For years she has done this and for years we have harassed her for this. Her latest is confusing the popular networking sites and calling them "Myface" and "Spacebook" rather than "MySpace" and "Facebook."

A few months ago I mentioned that I had a crush on a certain boy and was spending time with him. To this my Mom replies: "So, are you and ____ (pause) getting cozy?"

"Getting COZY? WHAT???" I said. Even she thought that one was a little off.

In case you're curious, No, me and ____ were NOT getting "cozy." Whatever that means.

So, I guess Karma's getting back at me because these days as I talk to my sister or my clients (who are all way more into pop culture than I) I find myself asking them about the latest slang and/or rap dance moves. To which they laugh and give me the look that I am oh so familiar with from giving it to my own mother. It's the "Are you seriously asking me this?" and "She is soooo clueless" to which I reply much like my own mother that "I don't really care what ya'll think; just tell me what it means. "

So, I'll raise my glass of wine to you, mom and don't worry, I'm not going to post this on MyFace.

Mom, Elizabeth, Dad

Photo-Grapher

As you may or may not know, photography is one of my hobbies. I have always taken lots of photos but have only in the past few years attempted at making an art of it...complete with a photography class and a fancy digital camera.

When I am really on top of pursuing this particular hobby, I post photos on www.flickr.com. You can see some of them to the right AND if you click on it, you can see ALL of them. That's right folks, ALL of the Sarah Lindsey Photos that I choose to post for the internet to view.

Recently I received an email that THIS photo was selected on a short list of photos for a tourism site for New Orleans. St. Louis Cathedral

I was absolutely thrilled and agreed to have my photo used.

Today I received another email stating that yes, my photo had been chosen for Schmapp’s New Orleans site WITH my name on it. Yes folks, I’m published.

You can see the photo Here on the Schmapp website.

Another exciting addition to my photographic world is the arrival of: (Cue: Stevie Wonder’s “Isn’t She Lovely”)


Cleo the Canon

I introduce you to my brand new Canon Rebel EOS Digital Rebel XTi. I have faith that she will accompany me on many new adventures capturing them to the best of her abilities as a fancy schmancy pretty camera. (I mean, do you SEE that screen on the back?!?!) She’s amazing!

Unfortunately, because they don’t charge the batteries before they send them to you, she is currently charging and not able to perform as she was made to at this time. I assure you that as soon as she’s ready a new photo shoot will be posted ASAP.

Thanks to all of you that gave me Christmas money. Cleo and I will be very happy together.

As for Olympus, she will still remain a part of my life, she is just going into retirement…still up for the party occasionally but she’ll be mostly resting. She and I have had a good four year run.

So, out with the old, on with the FABULOUS!!! Keep checking for new Cleo photos. She'll be sure to impress.

Because every creature deserves the right to be GLAMOROUS

I occasionally receive email updates from Subversive Cross Stitch which sells kits to make inappropriate cross stitch patterns such as:

I would highly DIScourage you from visiting this site if you are easily offended...or hate the "F" word.

In this week's email they included a link for THIS FABULOUS SITE where you can purchase no less than Wigs for your kitties.

I personally enjoy "Pink Passion" as seen here:

"Pink makes your kitty feel elegant, modern and quintessentially feline."

Of course, if colors aren't your thing, you can always go with "Bashful Blonde:"

"Blonde sets off your kitty’s eyes and makes your kitty look tan."

Because the model in the blonde wig strikingly resembles Herkey, the cat I live with, I am considering a purchase.

Because, "If you have any creature in the house with a head bigger than a walnut(including boyfriends), you need a Kitty Wig™."- Carolyn Sortor

When in Doubt, Ask an Expert

I just got off the phone with my good friend Grant. He called me for advice on a subject in which he just knew I am an expert. Expecting him to ask me about women, dating or fashion, I was all ears, ready to give my expertise advice.
He said that he recently saw something and he just knew that I would be able to identify it because of my extensive knowledge of the subject…mullets.

Yes folks, I am a master of mullets. This knowledge comes not from ever having one or living with anyone who had one (Thanks Dad and Charles) but because of my extensive “mullet watching” hours and various visited websites on the subject.

I have even taken part in the creation of a mullet:


So, as Grant began to explain the logistics of this horrendous ‘do, I knew he had come to the right place. This particular hair-raising hair-do consisted of a bald head with a small, 2-3 in wisp of hair at the base of the hairline. Because the back part is in fact longer than what’s on top, we declared it was, in fact, a mullet. Yes folks, there was definitely a business to party ratio going on.

Because I have never seen this type of mullet before, I was not sure of a name for it. No, it was not a “Kentucky Waterfall” and probably had nothing to do with a Camaro so we affectionally named it a “West Virginia WTF.” I also suggested “neck-warmer” This name, of course, is up for debate and can be changed as we get more suggestions.

Dear Metro Nashville Police Department,

Please leave me alone.

I understand your concern about my driving habits. I realize that it is harder to stop when one is driving fast or above the speed limit. I understand the dangers and hazards of multitasking at the wheel. In fact, just last week I finished driving school online. I am familiar with all of the rules, regulations and high standards that a driver in these United States is expected to follow.

However, do you have ANY idea how much time I save every year by speeding? How much more I can get done in a day?

I am merely trying to save the world and slowing my car means slowing that process and really, what's more important here?

So here's my plea: All I'm asking is for a blind eye, a turned head, a disabled radar. I assure you there are worse crimes being committed. You too can do your part in saving the world oh great Police Department. Just think of the lives that can be saved; robberies that could be prevented and murderers stopped dead in their tracks. Just think of all the good YOU could do.

So, when you see me in my black Honda Civic please don't interrupt me. Saving the world is a full time job.

Thank You,
Sarah

Dear Santa Claus...

I think I may need a GPS.

For many years I have considered myself to be fairly geographically inclined. I can usually find my way around and know more or less where I have come from and where I need to go. So, I ask, how is it that I made it to Goodlettsville TWICE today without trying?

Goodlettsville is a suburb of Nashville to the North and while trying to travel from North Nashville to East Nashville, somehow I ended up in another county. TWICE.

I have lived in the Nashville area for 13 years and can make it from Franklin to Nashville on I-65 with my eyes closed. Well, at least I think I could, I've never really tried. However, the second I veer off of 65 onto 40, 440, or 24 I have no idea what's going on. In fact, for a few years while in college, I would have to call my good friend Sara (who had lived in Nashville for considerably less time) and ask her how to get to the airport. And yes, I had to call her EVERY time.

This is not something I understand. I have always thought I knew what was going on regarding directions and arriving to point B from point A but at some point that information left me...Probably with the part of my brain that remembers names...but I digress.

So, here is my Grown up Christmas List:
A GPS - so I can successfully drive to my clients' houses

And, well, while we're at it, I'd like a new camera, clothes, Money, maintenance on my car, a massage, and a new pair of brown boots.
Sincerely,
Sarah Katherine Lindsey
P.S. I'm ALWAYS good.

Archive #7 - Baby Got Back

One of my favorites:
Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Workin it


It's no surprise that I was "blessed" with a larger backside than some other white girls. I've always had it, always will and unless it gets to the point where I have to order an additional plane ticket to ride comfortably, I'm ok with it.

It is also no surprise that men (and women apparently) of some ethnic groups (hell, "even white boys got to shout") are particularly fond of a girl who's "got a motor in the back of her Honda."

Ever since I "became a woman" I have endured comments from men about the booty. Once when walking back to our ghetto hotel in New Orleans, a man screamed down the street "Dayum! You got a booty like a black girl!" Thanks.

Having that said, the following is what I had the pleasure of experiencing today:

For my internship I go to client's homes in predominantly African American neighborhoods mostly comprised of government-owned housing. Today I went to see a client. She was not home. On my way back to my car I walked by quite a few of the residents. They were men, women, babies, teenagers, etc. On the opposite side of the street was a woman walking and carrying her small baby. I hear:

"Work it girl!"

I ignore it. Surely no one is yelling at me. I look around.

"Work it girl!"

"What?"

"Work it girl!"

It's clear she's talking to me, now. I laugh.

"It's been a while since I seen a booty like dat on a white girl!"

I laugh again

"You work it girl, work it, work it, work it."

So I get back into my Honda, promptly turn off my workout tapes by Fonda and dial 1-900-MIX-A-LOT. Baby got back.