St. Louis Wedding and Portraiture Photography - Pinxit

First - I have been blogging my butt off.. there are seveal new entries in the last 72 hours and possibly a few more. I’m just warning you guys… Now I was at the Mominthemirror.com blog - which I read and enjoy regularly. Today she was talking about choosing to raise her kids in the city- I understood but it made me think…this was my response.

I was born a suburb kid. I didn’t know the first thing about city living but know now I was always a city girl on the inside and now I am a city mom.
I first noticed this about myself reading a blog today about this mom who felt she had abandoned her city roots for the betterment of her son, he called her a nature girl – and she balked until she took a look at herself. I am aware I am a city girl by the response of my best suburb friends TiTo (that is two people - people) We have constant arguments on which is better city living or suburb living – they dwell in her family home in St. Charles County MO. It takes me 40 minutes to get to her house- needless to say we don’t visit as much as we’d like.
“You step out side and hit an alley at the end of your 3 feet of yard” she pointed out.
“It only takes me two minutes to mow it, and I’m five minutes from every where – you drive 20 minutes to get gas”
“I don’t!”
“Do too, at least I don’t have to send passenger pigeons to tell my friends hi”
“At least I can get a cell phone signal in my house”
“Your cookie cutter just like the rest of the block house- that you had to put a boulder in the yard to make it different?”
We concede a draw cause she’s right my house gets no signal, and she does live twenty minutes from civilization.
How did I end up so far form my suburb roots? Was it falling in love with a city man? I don’t want to give him too much credit, as I wanted the city long before I met him. I longed for college in a big city town like Chi, or Atlanta, as a matter of fact I wanted to go to Spellman so bad I could taste it – I never even applied – too scared of rejection, ended up at the most non big city school near me, the University of Missouri (MIZZOU). It is probably one of my bigger regrets and secrets. When I ws a kid I would tag along with my city smart cousins and take the bus into downtown and mall walk. Yearly trips with my mom to the At museum and Zoo, and major trips with my middle school to the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago made me love city ambiance. But I always chose safely when choosing college and my first few apartments, the county was where my family was, buying “better” houses on faux wooded lots where gorgeous oaks were cut down to build snap together houses and little trees were replanted to make everything look natural.
How was I to unleash my inner city dweller?
I fell in love with poetry in 1999, and found myself hanging most regularly in poetry spots speckled around St. Louis city. Tuesdays were in the Central West End, Monday nights on the Delmar Loop, Wednesday’s night was Troy’s near Lafayette Park, Sunday was Love Jones at the Bistro near the Fox theatre and my still spot Legacy on Friday. Then there were all those little spots I would stop in on – The once upon a star café in the CWE, Venice Café, Churchill’s, Cicero’s anywhere they put a mic and invited a poet. They all invited me, fed me. The people, the cultures, the smells, the food, everything was different than it was in the ‘burbs. NOTHING was cookie cut out and it was okay that I wasn’t either. So in falling in love with the poetry – it made me fall in love with the city, it made me fall in love with myself. I found the theatre, The Black Rep, the bookstores, the buses. I thrived on having access to different people. I loved the rhythm of the streets and the anonymity because St. Louis City was coming out of a coma at this time, and if I had been smart I would have bought property then but I was young and hind sight is 20/20.
I envy my husbands time in New York, the ultimate city. New York is the City’s CITY. What I wouldn’t give for a year to soak in the subways and the theaters and Central Park and China town and Harlem, you have no idea what I wouldn’t give to live a year there. But even in all of my city girl glory, I know there is a limit to what my wants for me and my wants for my girl are. While I am still a city mom- yes I plan on joining a gym for the baby, yes, we have a dog park in our neighborhood, yes my block has more nationalities on it than a food court in a airport, we are glad of this and we are happy. My immediate neighbors are Hispanic and Black we got white people across the street – gay people catty corner – college kids in the apartments on the top of the block – professional people, working class people – everybody. I worry that my heart will harden – but I make sure I speak to the people on our street when I see them and I plan on joining the neighborhood group.
Its not the pretty suburbs with the .25 acre yards and room for playgroup equipment for Cammy, but its not the ghetto from Good times either. We can go to the Botanical Gardens which are literally a stone’s throw from our front door, go to Tower Grove which is six blocks away, take the seven minute drive to Forest Park or drive to a playground and hang out when we need a jungle gym. Besides we do good as the city family. And whileI admit I did look at houses in the burbs when we were house hunting – now just isn’t the time, it will come, I’m sure when the absolute quite will be what we want for our family but for now I can still smell the roses through the city sounds and smells. City life is as simple for me as suburb living. It is as slow in our brownstone as it is in my sisters suburban ranch home. Life is what you make it where ever you happen to make it. Though I worry am I raising my daughter at a disadvantage? Sure we go to museums and see all the new exhibits and she certainly wouldn’t ever be able to claim her parents didn’t expose her to other cultures, she’s one and has already eaten Thai, Vegetarian/Vegan, Chinese, Greek, Persian, Authentic Mexican, Pan Asian, Japanese, Korean, Ethiopian, Caribbean, Creole, and French. And we know and count friends people from at least 2/3’s of these backgrounds. So we got the cultural gap and the diversity gap covered. But what if this is all too much? What if she needs the quiet, spacious childhood city living cannot offer? Yes the sights and sounds of the city will be second nature but what about butterflies in her own backyard.
The lady who’s blog sparked this interest, this thought process – at least for it to be blogged she believes my city child will be hipper and wiser than her county child. That her child will suffer from an achievement gap and mine will learn faster, rise quicker in college, work and life. She thinks my kid (city kids) will be the one . They’ll probably be the ones hiring or firing him in about 15 years. She worries the differences will stack against her son. I worry that my child will see her son’s and his easy laid back world and she will wonder why I didn’t give her that.
That mom said:.

I hope that their exposure to all walks and talks of life has done more than
render them street smart, cynical and sophisticated. I hope that it enables them
to postpone snobbery and the prejudgments that most of us immediately form.

I chose this life for my child exactly for this reason. So she would see so many walks of life and know she is not better because of what she is but perhaps because of who she is. And if all of these things we are giving her will make her sophisticated and street smart all the better for her, we just want her to be happy, and have every opportunity we had and the few our parents couldn’t provide, cause honestly from my memories there weren’t many. If she is a snob, I hope it is because she has excelled at everything we have challenged her with and I hope she is the kind of girl next door/round the way kinda girl who brings people with her – not shuts them out.
Because the truth is, my daughter is a city kid. She is pleasantly overwhelmed at new things and never overstimulated, at least not yet, and loves to play at home as well as a good adventure like last weekends circus.
And I am a city parent. Even if we could afford to live in the suburbs my husband would find acceptable, I’d have a hard time giving my daughter the kind of diversity I know helped me blossom and I don’t believe city living will leave her any harder around the edges when she enters adulthood, just maybe smarter about the possibilities good and bad the world will offer her
So, we live in a medium size city, biggest one in our state, not far from a major tourist trap. We keep memberships to the Gardens and other societies. We walk to the park. We go to the classic ice cream shop after church in North City, where the candy counter, shoot the whole place looks like it was lifted out of the 1950’s sans the white only signs, and my husband can remember going with his father, over his BTL and my Carmel pecan sundae. We drive to Barnes and Nobel and Borders for reading hours and quiet time cause we always forget to return library books (which is funny since the library is closer) – besides we like to own them. .
So I know suburbs are okay – but with everything a city can offer I just wouldn’t want to live there.

* The RIAA sued an 83 year old woman for downloading music illegally, even though a copy of her death certificate was sent to the RIAA a week before it filed the suit.

* A ten year old mattress weighs double what it did when it was new, because of the -ahem- debris which is absorbed through the years. That debris includes dust mites (their droppings and their decaying bodies), mold, millions of dead skin cells, dandruff, animal and human hair, secretions, excretions, lint, pollen, dust, soil, sand and a lot of perspiration, of which the average person loses a quart per day. Good night!

* A private elementary school in Alexandria, Virginia, accidentally served margaritas to its schoolchildren, thinking it was limeade.

* Each year, more people are killed by teddy bears than by grizzly bears.

* Quebec City, Canada, has about as much street crime as Disney World.

* Seven percent of Americans claim they never bathe at all.

* If you hook Jell-O up to an EEG, it registers movements almost identical to a human adult’s brain waves.

* The leading cause of on-the-job deaths in workplaces in America is homicide.

* A British gymnast survived a fall from a fourth story window because he went into a somersault and came down on two feet.

* Amusement park attendance goes up after a fatal accident. It seems many people want to ride upon the same ride that killed someone.

* Microsoft threatened 17 year old Mike Rowe with a lawsuit after the young man launched a website named MikeRoweSoft.com.

* Astronauts cannot burp in space. There is no gravity to separate liquid from gas in their stomachs.

* The glue on Israeli postage stamps is certified kosher.

* The winter of 1932 was so cold that Niagara Falls froze completely solid.

* There are more plastic flamingoes in the United States than real ones.

* In 1998, more fast-food employees were murdered on the job than police officers.

* According to Genesis 1:20-22 the chicken came before the egg.

* Only 14% of Americans say they’ve skinny dipped with the opposite sex.

* Half of all Americans live within 50 miles of their birthplace.

* Cats can hear ultrasound.

* In all three Godfather films, when you see oranges, there is a death (or a very close call) coming up soon.

* 23% of employees say they have had sex in the office.

* 40% of all people who come to a party in your home snoop in your medicine cabinet.

* The first Fords had engines made by Dodge.

* Chewing gum while peeling onions will keep you from crying.

* In 2003, there were 86 days of below-freezing weather in Hell, Michigan. So hell has frozen over many times

I was just reading a fellow bloogers entry which was talking about how she lost a friend in hip hop and a conversation she had with someone about the loss. She spoke on black men’s blindness to the state of Rap music. Then there is Crazy Al Cayne. If you have ever watched BET uncut - which I have been party to watch so we have ample (no pun intened) images to use for these types of discussions. Besides my husband thinks Joker the bail bondsman is hilarious, recently we were watching and after my heart cried yet again for the throngs of girls gyrating to a 50 cent track, we had the pleasure of watching Al rap about Tits and Ass while dressed in a milk carton outfit.
Now while some people will say that it is hypocrytical that I would find this song and video amusing while upset with Nelly and 50 cent for the content of their videos are missing the point. I liked Crazy Al because he clearly was not taking himself or his song seriously. Women with butt attachments and balloon breasts that are clearly fake are not demeaning themselves, no one is suguesting we can’t laugh at our selves. But to have a man objectify a woman by running a credit card down her butt cheeks is vulgar and unnecessary and there is nothing funny about it.

People use the argument that Rappers are rapping about the reality they live in. I guarentee Snoop Dog is not gang banging anything cause he has to. Anybody remember how straight his walk was when he was facing a murder rap? And none of these rappers have lived in any hood since their first album dropped- My biggest complaint is they are fronting about keeping it real - but they rent all teh crap in their music videos. Hello?!?! But I’m just talking for the hey of if.

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Originally uploaded by Queue_D.

When was the last time you slept this good?

I am reposting this from Richs blog - well cause it needs to be said. If I have one more girlfriend call me about some jerk but when I point out how cool so and so is…. forget it just read below and go give Rich his props

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

That’s what I’ll talking about right there!!!