The Sunday Six: Edition: Hot on Their Heels


This week, it's all about shoes y'all.  I fell into a nest of good'uns, so if you're not interested in looking at a bunch of foot coverings, then now's the time to turn back. 

All of these, every pair, is on sale, and IN MY SIZE!  It's like they want my head to explode! (So much so that I typed the words 'my head' twice without even noticing it the first time.)

: : exampilations : :
-1- Look at these beautes... the first on the site to make the blood rush through my aorta! They come in 'peach' and 'cognac'. These two alone would make me as happy as a dog's tail!  Lucky day. (for whoever gets 'em!)

-2- I don't own shoes this bright but I sure do like them.  I think I could find something to wear them with. Probably a bunch of somethings.
-3- The heels on these are perilously tall and ominously skinny which is a combination that ups my chances of falling and catching my early death, but the top half of the shoe looks so verah nice that I might be willing to risk it.  Hey, like Bobby Boucher would say, "ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-ma-Mama always said"... it may kill you to be beautiful.
-4- I had like the lil' upholstery tacks to da side of these and the heels look innocent enough.
-5- As for these next ones, I like a t-strap Mary Jane like Sir-Mix-Alot likes big butts (and I cannot lie).
-6- I've been wanting a pair of faux (pronounce it "fawx" like my friend, Angela, taught me if you want to be real fancy) snakeskin shoes since I saw a girl wearing some on my big trip to The Big Pomme. I believe these would be acceptable.
I really do love all of these heels, I do, but just looking at them all makes MawMaw want to go put on a pair of these and rest my dogs:
Hope you're having a happy Sunday, y'all! xo


A Memoir

My sweet friend Missy tagged me with this meme (ages ago). I think it's an interesting one, and it took me a few days to think about it. I'm hesitant to admit that because you may be expecting to be blown away by all the profound therein. And well, you may be disappointed, by the lack of the profound. Anyway, here it are.

The Rules:
1. Write your own Six-Word Memoir.
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you want.
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post.

Offer others grace.  Love always wins.

I tag no one, but if you wish to play along, get after it. 
I'd love to read what you come up with.


The Sunday Six : 17


French General 
Every time I visit, I want to take out a small loan so that I can join their monthly Jewelry Club.  Their jewelry kits are fantastic and I want them all, every last one.  (Especially December 2009, which is unfortunate because I am way late to that party.)

It's pretty much my favorite.

Antoine Dodson
He has introduced me to a few of my new favorite sayings, including but not limited to, "You are dumb. You are so dumb.  You are really dumb." Today marks the start of a holiday commemorating this yoot (as Vinny Gambini would say).  So you can run and tell that!
(youtube video)
grayish lavender
My heart has deep pockets that hold lots of love for this color.  I know I confessed my love for another favorite polish mere days ago, but my heart is fickle. 

(essie: marino cool)
(stile eye shadow: grace)

old typewriters
I want one.  Buy me one and I promise to type you a letter and then mail it to you, just like the old days.  I'll even seal the envelope with my wax seal.  Fant-cee, no?

Of course, this one has its merits, too, although I couldn't fulfill my promise with it.  Unless I promised to eat a waffle in the shape of a keyboard.  That's a promise I could keep.

Friends that speak life over me.  It's a short sentence, but it has far-reaching impact and my cup overflows with gratitude.  Thank you for your part in setting me free.
Happy Thunday, you guyth!
love, love, love



If you so desire, 
you may play this ridiculous game along with me by googling
"your name + given phrase" (don't forget them quotes
and then post the nonsensical results. Gauntlet. Thrown.

Jodie looks like.....
Jodie looks like she's about to cry.
Jodie looks like she's having a ball.  Sounds schizophrenic.  Also sounds like you're spying on me in my 5am class. 
Jodie looks like she's thinking, "We know, Latifah. We know."... I prob'ly am.

Jodie likes.....
Jodie likes this song.  It's my new favorite, hands down. You Are More
Jodie likes cotton candy.  It's true.  She loves how it makes her feel like a little girl again. 
Jodie likes me.  Yes I do.  I like you!

Jodie likes to talk. That she do.  Although with new people I am quiet.  It's not because I hate you. It's because I'm not good at small talk with new people.  I'm socially not good.  It's the introvert in me.

Jodie says.....
Jodie says she's sorry.  Yeah, if that whole socially not good thing has ever made you feel bad.  I am, I'm sorry.
Jodie says, "I'd do anything for a bit of glam." I am a fan of the glam and I might do something for a bit of it (like buy some lip gloss and eyeliner) but I wouldn't do anything for it (like sell my soul).
Jodie says hello. I do!! I'm powerful pleased to see you! Come in a while and rest ya face! Put yourself level on a chair and stay some more!
Jodie says "at da start of da song is it a different language?? Its confusing!!" Yes, yes, that is exactly something I might say, except when I say "it's" in that context, I use an apostrophe and I would put a comma after 'song'.

Jodie wants.....
Jodie wants to save the beaches.  Although she's also confused as to why she would want to save the beaches that don't seem to be in any peril.

Jodie wants to play. I do! I do! I do!  I love to play!
Jodie wants to dance! ...all she wants to do is dance! (And she'd like to be good at it too, if it's not too much to ask.... and um, evidently it is. I make Elaine Benes look like a trained professional.)

Jodie does.....
Jodie does have a pet dog.  It's dead to her though, so does that really count?
Jodie does not want you to know anything about her personal life.  Lies and deceit.  Sure, I have a level of privacy, but I actually like sharing, and aren't ya glad?
Jodie does not have Multiple Personality Disorder. No, she does not. I know, because I just asked her.

Jodie hates.....
Jodie hates me now.  No, I don't.  Rest easy, boo.
Jodie hates being mistaken for star.  I don't think this has ever happened, but I don't think I'd hate it.  I might even give out a fake autograph?  What?!  It's not my fault you mistook me for a star.  Just don't try to sell it.  It's a fake.
Jodie hates adorable things, happy couples, children and puppies.  Hahaha!  That makes me laugh.  It's not true of this Jodie, but still, it makes me laugh.

Jodie can.....
Jodie can protect herself. Aw yeah! I told you I'm part Swamp Person. "When I'm hungry I bites the noses off livin' grizzly b'ars!"
Jodie can bicycle 45km.  I just did some fancy conversions on the old intraweb and found out that's 27.9617 miles, I'd have to say I'm really not sure I actually CAN do that.  I don't know though.  I've been doing some things lately that I didn't think I could do, so maybe. 

Jodie goes.....
Jodie goes out clubbing. That, she don't.  Not night clubbing, or golf clubbing, or any other sort of clubbing.
Jodie goes back to the future.  Okay, I'll go, but only if I get to keep the DeLorean.  Final offer.

Jodie is.....
Jodie is Lady Gaga's biggest fan.  Untrue.  I am not gaga for Gaga.
Jodie is a woman of immense integrity and class.  Awww pshaw, thank ya honey chile.  You sho nice!
Jodie is back.  Gettin' there.

Jodie loves.....
Jodie loves coffee.  Fo to the rizzle.
Jodie loves a bargain. So, so much! What a thrill! Just thinking about a bargain gets me all bleary eyed!  (Does that make me more of a Grandma than the blue purse?  Will I be this excited about Bingo in like, two years?) (Aw, I ain't foolin' nobody.  I love Bingo now!)
Jodie loves the outdoor life. Yes she really does, as long as The Outdoor Life doesn't actually get on her

Awww, see how much fun that was?! Now go do yours so I can read that!
And have a happy day, y'all!


Remember that time I went to New York and never told y'all about it?

La Grande Pomme
[Originally set to post June 2009]

I just returned from NYC.

New Yawk Sit-tay!

(Before you start believing lies about me though, let me make this disclaimer--  I am no ubiquarian.
I have not seen the globe, or even most of the country. [Yet.]
And no, this trip did not in any way have anything to do with promoting my book.
I have 18 followers, people. I am not a famous person.)

ubiquarian -- a person who goes everywhere

The real reason we went is because My Sister the Genius graduated to become the Sister Genius and Best Nurse On the Entire Sphere of the Earth.  [SGaBNOtESotE for short.]  This was my first time up to New Yawk. What a city! It was humongous and unpredictable and it smelled both delicious and disgusting. We had ourselves a good time, kenching and yamming for five days scraight (that is not a typo).
kench -- to laugh loudly

to yam -- to eat of stuff heartily

One of my favorite things was the Met(ropolitan Museum of Art). The oil paintings were spectacular. They're enormous... I was all astonishment! My favorite single thing in the museum though, was a long banner, probably fifteen feet in length, of the genealogy of Jesus. From Adam down the line... all the way to the birth of Christ. It was stunning. I was so disappointed to find out they had not a single replica in the bookstore. They don't even make it. It's the one thing I really wanted to bring back. I'm (still) still disappointed about that...

While there, we also saw Swan Lake (beautiful and also got an acute case of the giggles because we were nodding off)(What? It was dark up in there and Mama was tired!), the view of Manhattan from the top of the Rockefeller Center, walked through FAO Schwarz and Central Park, ate my first gelato in an authentic Italian restaurant that served homemade pasta, took the dinner cruise to get a close-up of Lady Liberty (she's so beautiful), ate hot dogs on the street, rode the subway (which smells of many a gambrinous man's watering hole), went to Chinatown (twice), ate at Tavern on the Green (which served us bread and BUTTER BALLS! Amen.) and Carnegie Deli (sandwiches bigger than my head), and much more.  One more event worth noting was our trip to Tiffany's where the elevator operator made sure to let us know that the Sterling Silver was on the 5th Floor.  I said, "Really?  'Cause I was here fo' da yella diamond!  That, or you know, the Clearance Aisle." I did.  I totally said that in my head. 

gambrinous -- full of beer

Oh, and the driving-- it is so amusing! Frightening too, since no one seems to operate by any road rules. It's fantastic!! I would've wrecked in 40 seconds or fewer.

Here's a couple snippity snaps of our time there:
The Brooklyn Bridge
It took us a while to figure out which bridge (so many bridges!) was, in fact, The Brooklyn Bridge and that delighted us more than you could ever imagine.  Maybe though, imagining won't be so hard when you see this next picture, because The Silliness, it is Our Strong Suit. 
This was taken on the evening of our fant-cee Dinner Cruise.  What can I say except fancy makes us stupid, and stupid is my favorite.

And in conclusion, thank you Jesus, that all of our planes were volacious and that I no longer have those bangs. Amen and Hallelujah.

volacious - Apt or fit for flying. 


How to Boss Your Kids Around and Make Them Feel Like Failures

Once upon a time, your kids are meeting your friends' kids for the first time so you give your kids the so-help-me talk as you pull up to their house. It goes a little something like this:

Okay, now listen, use your manners.
Be polite, be considerate and share.
Don't  be bossy! (Finger pointed very bossily)
Don't leave anyone out! Play nice.   (bossy! bossy! bossy!)
You all have great manners and I know you'll behave well. (trying to bring it back around to the positive)
Have fun, and Oh! DON'T ask for anything to eat.   You may accept if it's offered but don't ask.
(Then you give 'em the stank eye to show that you are so serious.)
Okay, let's go!

Then you step out of the car and walk up to the door smiling and looking like the Rockefeller's.

Each of those statements really just reiterates the one before it though, doesn't it.
Don't embarrass me.
Don't embarrass me.
Don't embarrass me.
Don't embarrass me.
And sweet mother of pearl so help me, DON'T EMBARRASS ME.     

Poor darlins.  So much pressure.  I've totally done this to them.  Most of it before Love & Logic (because I am a natural at being an awesome parent) and I still resist the urge to boss the little punks around, but I'm getting better.  Truly, I am. I do less dumb stuff now. 

...and when I do do dumb stuff, (because I totally do) I rely heavily on the grace of God expressed in this statement:

The sure hand of God is beneath me, just as it is beneath my children.

...and then I breathe again.


The Sunday Six : 16


noise trade
Free music, y'all.

I've never actually ordered anything but their stuff is so pretty!  I always go look and swoon.  Let me to exampilate:
(campomaggi bag)

(clothilde shoes)

(sequinned heels)

(trix coat)
Gazing upon this list, I have settled this one fact within my tiny heart: I am part MawMaw.  A very large part.

It's hard to choose a favorite from that list, but if I were forced to narrow it down I believe I'd go with the coat.  It's the collar.  And the pockets... and the sleeve length... and the color.  I need that coat.  Next up would be the Clothilde Heels, because how am I supposed to resist a Cajun name like Clothilde?  Huh?  Ce n'est pas possible.  Plus they're just darlin'!  (and now I'm part Texan)

sweet truffle dress
purses (or handbags)... whichever suits your fancy.
Such as these:


(especially that blue one... See?  Maw to the Maw.) 

Good books.  I'm well on my way to becoming a bibliobibuli.  I read Life of Pi...  such a good story.  Current selection: Ruby Slippers and my new Message Bible, Conversations, which I love

Thanks for all of your suggestions, too.  I knew y'all would help Mama out.

Other peoples' brave stories.  Their openness and vulnerability makes me feel brave, and helps me to do hard things, which life is full of.  I'm so thankful for those stories.

Happy Sunday, beauties!


D is for Draftsack

 a bag of garbage; figuratively meaning a big paunch or belly

Sometimes, watching numbers rise is fun, like if it's your IQ, or the number of Benjamin's in your wallet.  Heck, even Jackson's or Hamilton's.  (Who am I kidding, I even get excited about the Washington's).

If that number is instead, inches around your middle, and everywhere else, well that's just less fun.  And not in a less is more kind of way.

We all have a breaking point; a number we reach where we say, that's it.  This line, I will not cross.  I've reached that line, and I'm too embarrassed to even tell you what it is.  Maybe when I get to the AFTER, I'll have the courage to show you the BEFORE & AFTER pictures.  Vanity restricts me for now. 
Vanity is cruelty.  
It whispers ugly things to me.  
Things that all say this one thing: 
You are not good enough. 

I finished reading Life of Pi and I loved it.  I agree with one of the reviewers who said, "it's difficult to stop reading when the pages run out".  I found several word gems in those pages (which is why I enjoy reading so much anyway).  One, in particular, speaks to this issue and this draftsack I've been schlepping around.  

"To look out with idle hope is tantamount to dreaming one's life away."

Translation in Jodie's world: Idle hope... Sitting here and hoping things will change... There is no ship coming to rescue me.  To hope to someday be thinner because I watch The Biggest Loser but then later eat myself into misery is tantamount to dreaming my life away and also digging a deeper hole that I'll have to climb out of later.  

Every week I share things that I love with y'all.  Mostly it's "stuff" that I want, but what I really want is freedom.  This is not God's best.  This is not what I was designed for.  I am not living the abundant life.  Bondage in abundance is not what he meant, but it's what I have. 

I've reached that point where I'm taking myself out of life, hiding myself away; saying "no" more than I want to because I'm embarrassed and ashamed. I don't want people looking at me.  I don't want to put on clothes that fit too closely and spend hours comparing myself to you and trying to cover my "trouble spots", all while trying to put off the vibe that "I'm okay".  I don't want new accessories or new shoes, or a new pair of jeans.  All of those things that I customarily love all just feel like putting lipstick on a pig.  Shopping isn't fun anymore, and that is a dismal thing unto my soul.  I'm a shopper, y'all.   When people say "women be shoppin'", they're talking about me.  But I don't want to shop.  I want my life back.  I want confidence.  They don't sell that at Target.

There is nothing idle about getting free, is there?  I signed a contract and for the next 6 months (at least), I'll be pummeled and pounding the fat out of my draftsack and other regions at a Monday-Friday 5am class, very reminiscent of a B.L. Last Chance Workout.  

I have never been so sore in all my life.  I have to slide and shimmy my way out of bed because it's not yet possible to sit up with ease and I think it goes without saying that lowering myself into a sitting position and then trying to stand up out of it are exceedingly painful and difficult.  It's as hard as it was after my first C-section.  Yeah.  That hard.   I'm hurtin' y'all.

But I'm hurting in a different way than I've been hurting.

It feels like hope. It feels like coming alive.  And it feels good.


The Sunday Six : 15


My new favorite Fall-Winter polish, Borghese : Palermo Plum
I'm afraid the picture doesn't do it much justice though... too bad because it is lurvely.

puddle skippers
In [blue] please!  I love these strong...  verah, verah strong.

I'm getting bored with my current selection and I'd like some more. I like these and those, or if you live in the swamp, dese and dose.
(source, for both)
This time of year.  I'm starting to see lots of great ideas of things to make and it's getting me all a-stir with excitement!  I always find WAY more ideas that I can actually do, which grieves my heart a little, but I like to do something every year and seeing all of the great things people are making is getting me all sorts of giddy!

Buying and making Christmas gifts.  I enjoy both so, so much!  I like gifting my people with stuff I know they'll love and finding something that is just "them".  What do y'all want for Christmas this year?  What does your tiny heart desireth? 

Swamp People.  I have really enjoyed that show and I'm sad it's over.  I'm really gonna miss Troy Landry.   Although if I get too lonesome, I could just go visit my Daddy.

(Troy Landry)
I tell you, the first time I saw the show, my mouth stood open because I realized that I am part swamp person.  I am.  I grew up along the Bayou Teche with a Dad that hunted and fished (although it wasn't alligator) (except for that one time he shot one that got too close when we were swimming in the bayou).  (We fried the tail and ate it.) (It was good, too.) I learned how to make crawfish traps before I was ten.  I knew how to set my own fishing line, start to finish.  I learned how to find bait for fishing, either scooping up grass shrimp along the bank of the bayou or pouring soapy water on the ground driving the worms up and out.  I baited my own hook, too.  ...and I understood everything they said on the show without closed caption.  :)  I'm part swamp person, and I like it.

Happy Sunday y'all! 


C is for [a Crinigerous situation]

crinigerous - hairy

I have my face pressed in close to my magnifying mirror every day.  I keep all my gear lined up on the window sill.  I don't even move it anymore because why bother.  These hairs, they have no respect for my person or my clearly set boundaries.   I am bewildered and confounded at the rate of growth that is going on here.  Every day I'm plucking.  And every day seems to me, much too much!  If I had my druthers, I'd say every (3) days is much more sensible.
(Druthers is my new favorite word.)

How can so much hair grow every single day?  At this rate, how will I keep up with it in ten more years?  Will I be plucking twice a day to keep the tiny apostates at bay?  Thrice even?!  Say it ain't so!  Here I was hoping for life to get easier.

I never knew that my 30s would make me into such a crinigerous thing.  One option I suppose is just to let it alone to grow "organtically" and then I could just sign up for the local circus as Uncle Crazy Brows With The Occasional Neck Hair.

Except we don't have a local circus.

And I'm not an uncle.