Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Arkansas and Oklahoma/Texas Face Off



Contrary to what you might think, I am actually a native Texan and not originally from Arkansas. I was born near Amarillo, Texas, later lived in the Houston area and then moved to Arkansas when I was 10 years old. After being raised in the Natural State, I gladly left home for the University of Oklahoma and later married a wonderful guy from Edmond—hoping that he would take me back there someday. And as crazy as it sounds, we still live in Little Rock and actually like it.

But as we have been traveling a lot lately, and I’ve begun to think twice about the land-that-I-love. After going to Texas two weekends ago for a wedding and then to Oklahoma City last week for a friend’s 30th birthday, I began to wonder what it was about Arkansas that we liked so much. For instance, if Arkansas faced-off with Texas or Oklahoma, which state would prevail?

1. Let’s start with the obvious: Sports.

What kills me is that people in Arkansas hate OU and the University of Texas. Arkansans even tell Aggie jokes which strikes me as completely ironic because the state is well-known for Tyson foods, Hogs and soybeans. But back to sports, who would ever question the dominance of OU and UT over Arkansas? Hell, as much as I hate to say it, OSU could even stomp the Hogs. I know Arkansas will occasionally win a hard-fought battle against these arch enemies who aren’t even in the SEC, but overall—if I’m being honest, this is a point for Oklahoma and Texas.

2. Targets/Shopping.

With a state as large as Texas, it is inevitable that the shopping is going to be better than Arkansas. So let’s just throw Texas out on this one, and focus on the shopping debate between Arkansas and Oklahoma. First, I think it is important to say that I’m not talking about designer shopping, because I’m really only concerned with essential purchases. And I could argue that most essential shopping can be done at a Target store. Except not in Arkansas. In the land of Wal-Mart, (Wal-Mart was founded in Bentonville, Arkansas) there isn’t even a single, solitary, Super Target. If I want to buy the creations of Mossimo along with an ear of corn, I’m out of luck. Even on the shampoo aisle in Edmond, Oklahoma’s Target I started to get depressed. Who knew there were more than five choices of shampoo and conditioner? Point to Oklahoma and Texas.

3. News coverage.

While in Texas two weekends ago, my husband and I learned of the conflict in Iran, and thank goodness. If we’d been in Arkansas, watching the local news, who knows what local grass-fire would have eclipsed this international crisis? To be fair, in Arkansas, local stations do cover national and international stories, but honestly, one station actually brags about only covering the local news, as if we aren’t insulated enough from the rest of the world. Yes, we have the Internet and wear shoes most of the time, but after watching a night full of Channel 4, you have to laugh as we perpetuate our own stereotypes. Point to Oklahoma and Texas.

4. Accents.

Most people who have never been to Arkansas would think that we have beautiful Southern accents. Designing Women and Gone with the Wind’s Tara come to mind. And then you hear an Arkansan talk. It’s this “Arkansas” accent that hits you right between the eyes and the terms, “hillbilly” and “hick” come to mind. Now, some people can’t help it. They’ve been raised here and while they might be well educated and very non-Hillbilly, the accent is just as unavoidable as it is distinct. Case-and-point: (And I am not making this up.) When traveling in Europe one summer during college, my travel companion and I were literally standing in the middle of the Forum in Rome. When suddenly, I was frozen in my Chacos, listening to the distinct and somewhat jarring sounds of an Arkansan speaking. I immediately told my travel-mate that I was sure those people were from Arkansas, and to make things even more hilarious and small-town, I knew them. It was my preacher, his wife and daughter. We had a nice chat with Mrs. Anne and went on our way.

To contrast, let’s examine the Texas and Oklahoma accents. Texas: I had a pledge sister in college from Panhandle, Texas. She had a beautiful drawl that everyone loved. It endeared us to her. The accent of this cattle-rancher’s daughter didn’t cause us to wince, we actually thought it was sweet. Oklahoma: Most people from Oklahoma are accent-neutral. In fact, it’s such an ambiguous accent that when my husband first went to training with his company in New Jersey, people couldn’t guess where he was from. Now, eight years of Arkansas later, his teammates are making fun of what he has accidentally absorbed. I said it was unavoidable. Point to Texas and Oklahoma.

5. Fun things to do.

Little Rock is the capital city of Arkansas and one of the largest cities in the state. We don’t have a professional sports team, or even a Cheesecake Factory, but we do have the Skatium. The one skating rink in the city is so hopping on Sunday nights that the police are called out to manage all of the pre-teens who take to the street. Some wander their way up to Wal-Mart to get a coke while others hangout at the snow-cone hut and make it a perfect weekend.

In Oklahoma City, they have an area called Bricktown which is quickly becoming Oklahoma’s version of the San Antonio Riverwalk. The Oklahoma City Thunder shoots baskets at the Ford Center and Billy Joel and Elton John actually had a sold-out concert in Tulsa. Snow cones on Sunday begin to pale in comparison to these Oklahoma and Texas attractions. Point to Oklahoma and Texas.

I could go on.

But as I write all of this, I begin to feel like a horrible person. After all, I defend Arkansas all over the U. S. when people make fun of Bill Clinton’s home state. Although Texas and Oklahoma are clearly the winners here, I’ll continue to pay that high Arkansas-state income tax with a smile on my face; I’ll faithfully save for my future-children’s private-high school education; and I’ll cheer for the doomed Hogs as they willingly enter into an eight year football contract with Texas A & M. It’s a pride for Arkansas that is unexplainable. Tiger Lily to Arkansas.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Lily-less

One of my favorite past-times is blogging- both reading and writing. I love it when I get a really good idea for a post and get exited when I open my Google Reader and have a menu of entries awaiting me. However, with the onset of the heat, a back-breaking schedule of school, work, travel and more work, I haven't really found any Lily-inspiration lately.

I'm Lily-less.

I'm not motivated to blog about Michael Jackson. It's only proper to make fun of someone when they're alive.

I don't want to point to the Iranian conflict and say "I told you so" to all of the readers out there that commented on my "Tweet Resistance" saying that Twitter is a fad, so I won't.

I considered blogging about the U.S. Open and Bethpage Black. But with Rocco, Tiger and Ernie all out of it there was no use. I need more excitement like a play-off, not a rain delay.

I need inspiration. I need time off. I need the air conditioner pumped up to the next level.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Miss Appointments



She fought tooth and nail for her rights to free speech while defying the pageant tradition of touting world peace and vowing to help starving children. She defended those racy photos where the photographer accidentally took picture after picture of her boobs. She pleaded with Donald Trump to save her Miss California crown, and now after all that controversy is behind her, Carrie Prejean has a blond moment. She forgets to go to her Miss California appointments. Trump was not as forgiving this time, and she was fired.
I am not only giving Miss X-California a Tiger Lily, but I am here to say that I am now officially irritated with her. Let's just run down her moments of brilliance from the last few months:

Statement against same-sex marriage during the Miss USA pageant: My reaction—So what, free speech. She should, however, be prepared to lose the Miss USA competition even if it’s not fair.

Nude pictures that were an “accident”: My reaction—Liar. An accident? Right. Especially because she changed her story when more pictures surfaced on TMZ.com that were obviously not an accident. She quickly pulled the, “I’m not perfect” card. Close call, Carrie! You should be thanking your lucky-porn stars that the men on the evaluation committee allowed you to keep your crown.

I can just imagine how that meeting with Trump went:


Trump: “Well Carrie, I can see by these pictures that you didn’t mean to pose nude. (wink, wink) My wife, who is also a model, is constantly having accidental nude pictures taken. You can keep your crown.” (Taps her on the butt.)

Accepting pageant-funded fake boobs: My reaction—who cares, tons of people have fake boobs that were given to them by people who now regret footing the bill.

Not appearing at her Miss California appointments: My reaction—totally ridiculous. After being scrutinized, criticized and demoralized on national television, you don’t bother to show up to work. Nice.



Carrie had such potential for a positive Tiger Lily. She could have received what would have been a Tiger Lily for being a fantastically outspoken beauty contestant who spoke her mind no matter what the consequences. But now, thanks to her lack of attendance, my Tiger Lily is awarded to the Beauty Queen that that made just one too many mistakes.

This Tiger Lily is dedicated to a friend that is one of my most loyal blog followers and just happens to be an x- killer-smart beauty contestant. She’s beautiful, poised and shows up to work on time.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Tweet Resistance




I am a huge proponent of all the new social media. Facebook is something that I've come to love and use every day. I joined Twitter a few months ago and obviously, I have my own blog. It is my goal to be uber-connected and cutting-edge. (I'm fighting the impending "out of touch" label that accompanies a 30th birthday.) My tweets feed to my Facebook and to my blog. My website connects you to my virtual portfolio then back to my blog. I have a wiki that explains what an RSS feed is and how to use it-- and my RSS feed is built within my Gmail account where I get Facebook updates. As soon as I can afford a video camera, I'll be posting my own videos on YouTube instead of just watching them. Not to mention Flickr.


To my surprise, there are many people out there that are resisting this new technology. They refuse to join Facebook, let alone actually post a status update. They make fun of the Twitter tweets and cling on to email like it's really something progressive. I actually had a friend that asked me over lunch: "What's a blog?" I couldn't hide my horror.

Let's just review a few of the great things in life that people resisted in such a manner:
  • Elvis and the Beatles
  • Women's Rights and the abolition of slavery
  • Television, computers, cell phones and email
It's inevitable. This new technology is here to stay and much like the good 'ole computer, I think we'll be seeing more of the same. If you refuse to catch on now, you'll be so confused in 2015 that you'll be asking your 7 year-old to explain things to you. (Sound familiar to anyone that has shown their mom or dad how to work the DVD player lately, for the 40th time?) This is not just a passing fad like disco, it's more like the automobile-- it's changing the way we live.

One of the largest sources of information on the web is a wiki-- this means that the users are driving the content. CNN and Fox update the news through a series of blogs. John Mayer announces his relationship status via Twitter and even Michelle Obama updates her Facebook page. Please, if Oprah, in her infinite wisdom has joined Twitter, why are you resisting?

In fact, I would bet my next pay check that although you may have stonewalled Facebook and Twitter, you're already indulging in some of this new technology. I'm sure you've read an online customer review before you made your latest purchase from Target, Amazon or Zappos. Or, you've watched a YouTube video lately and passed it along to a friend. (Why is it that those that are dragging their feet with social media have seemed to really embrace the forward? Oh how I wish that would become extinct.)

So kudos to those of you that are on board. And for those of you that aren't, the time was yesterday. Look at it as liberation from being "fed" information from companies and news channels. Instead, real people, just like you and me, are giving you the news, the product reviews and a real look at Dominoes Pizza. And bonus, you get to keep up with your 100 friends from college that you don't have time to talk to over the phone.


Tiger Lily to those of you make fun of those tweets. The joke's on you. Things are changing and you're getting left behind.

Special thanks to Stone Ward SWIM for inspiring my technology Tiger Lily. If you are interested in getting up-to-date, check out the link.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Tiger Lily to Angst-- Sallinger Style



A Rare Re-Post in Honor of the Late Sallinger.

About two weeks ago, Matt and I went on a much-needed vacation to Mexico. I was looking forward to eating too much at our all-inclusive resort and basking in the hot Cancun sun while washing away the swine flu with every hand-wash. And as part of my normal vacation ritual, I brought along a couple of books to read. (I am on this kick where I'm trying to read classics.) So as I was browsing the "required summer reading" shelves at Barnes and Noble, I ran across The Catcher in the Rye.

This particular edition of the "American Classic" didn't have a synopsis printed on the back or on the inside cover and I decided to take a gamble. I had no idea what the book was about, but I knew it was a classic and the first page caught my attention:

“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. In the first place, my parents would have about two hemorrhages apiece if I told anything pretty personal about them. They’re quite touchy about anything like that, especially my father.”
The story opens with a depressed and angry 16-year old named Holden Caulfield, who has just been kicked out of his third or fourth prep school. The remaining 100 or so pages follow his trip home to face his parents who Holden expects will be very disappointed with him, yet again. The more the story continued to do nothing but follow this kid, the more engrossed I became. I empathized with this "screw up" who was terribly whiny and foul-mouthed. And as he described every adult he saw as a "phoney," I began to adopt his cynical views and became a little unhappy-- even on vacation. If I hadn't picked up Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons before we left, I might be in therapy right now.

The more I tried to figure out why The Catcher in the Rye was such an American Classic, the more baffled I became. And now, after two weeks of reflection, I have decided that this story of a young man's angst must have been cutting-edge in the 1950's. I'm sure this book was banned not only for the language and the mention of "feeling sexy" around a prostitute, but also because no one in America would have wanted little Johnny to adopt such a negative outlook on life.

All in all, I quite prefer Ferris Bueller's teen-angst to Holden Caulfield's. While I can relate with both characters, Ferris provides a more playful and hopeful view of what comes next in life, where Holden just depresses the hell out of you.

In response to all of this, I have begun trying to really focus on the "glass-half-full" approach to life. That, and Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons has really brought me out this loathing for all mankind and I'm starting to recover. Tiger Lily to Salinger's teen angst; it has caused me to focus on being happy.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Roller Derby and the Deasons



On Saturday April 11th, I lost my Roller-Derby virginity in Tallahassee, Florida. (Please be warned, if you are going to be offended by sexual references, than this is not the post for you. And if you are easily offended but read on anyway- you can join me in accepting this particular Tiger Lily. I am awarding this one to myself.)

Matt and I went to visit my sister and her family over Easter weekend. My niece, five years old, spent much of the weekend playing with her Hannah Montana guitar. She serenaded us with The Best of Both Worlds all weekend which, ironically, is the best way to describe our visit. In the first world, we celebrated the holiest weekend in the entire Christian calendar. We shared jellybeans from the kids' Easter baskets, and even went to the Circus. In the second world, we went to the Roller Derby.


Let's back up. A few days before we flew down to Tallahassee, my sister called me to make sure that Matt and I would like to go to the Roller Derby before she purchased tickets. Obviously I was confused, because at first, I was under the impression that I would have to strap on some roller-blades and join in. My sister quickly assured me that I was not Roller Derby material and that we would be spectators only. Well, as you might have guessed, I was relieved and told her that we would love to go.

Now fast forward to Saturday night. Southern Discomfort (the name of the tournament we attended) started at 5:30 p.m. The actual match didn't actually start until 7:00, but the doors opened at 5:30 for us to claim our seats. We put our lawn chairs as close to the ensuing blood-shed as possible and went back outside the gates. I had on my new GAP t-shirt, matching bracelet with a cute little star charm and a preppy little white hoodie in case I got cold. I encouraged Matt to wear his khaki t-shirt with the pink piping, also from the GAP. He told me that he was worried he might look a little feminine and I assured him that he looked great. Obviously, I had no idea.


Back outside the gates, everyone enjoyed a few home-brought beers. I decided to hold out until I could get back inside, hoping they might be serving white wine, or at the least, margaritas, since I don't really drink beer. But as our tailgating came to an end, and we lined up to go back inside, I began to get the feeling that I didn't really have a good idea of what was about to happen-- and that I probably wouldn't be getting that glass of wine. I also began to notice that many of the soon-to-be spectators were wearing a lot of black, sporting some pretty cool tattoos and piercings and many had on "The Cure" t-shirts.

And then I saw them. The Roller Derby Girls. We had just rounded the corner where we could see the inside of Fairgrounds Building 2 where they had set up the make-shift roller-rink. Bitchie Cunningham skated right past me. She is the co-captain of "Capital Punishment," the name of the Tallahassee Roller Derby team. Her co-captain, The Great Wall of Gina, was close behind joking with Robin Cradles. They were dressed in fish-net hose, panties, helmets and knee pads. They looked pretty tough. Feeling a little GAPish, I pulled my hoodie a little closer.



We took our seats directly behind the Jacksonville Roller Girl's bench. Quite a seat, because I was close enough to read Anita HardOne's helmet sticker that said, "I Love Porn" and got to see Jenna Talls ice her butt after a bad spill. This was a treat because, like most of the Roller Girls, Jenna just had panties on over her fish-nets and let me tell you-- she has a great butt.


It only took me watching the girls skate one or two times around the rink before I understood the game. Each team has one Jammer and it is her job to score. They score by getting in front of the other team's Jammer. The "pack" of Blockers and Pivots take off a few seconds before the two Jammers to make scoring a little harder. The Blockers slam you into the wall and I still don't know what the Pivots do. But what I do know is this: Roller Derby girls are hard-core and I wouldn't want to make one of them mad. For instance, one Blocker, I think her name was Tackle Boxxx, had a little skirt on that said, "Talk Shit. Get Hit." She meant it. And I was hooked.

Capital Punishment beat the Jacksonville Roller Girls after three (or was it four?) periods of hard-fought jamming. I was having so much fun that I almost joined in with the crowd as they began yelling for one of the skaters, "Go Fat Ass Bitch!" In fact, I would have had the time of my life if only the toilets at the fairgrounds had been flushing. When I realized that my drink choices were beer or jack-and-coke, I went for a few of the latter and quickly needed more than one restroom break. Let's just say, the no-flushing was just a little outside of my comfort zone and I decided to hold it.

Thanks to my naivety, needing to pee really bad most of the night and the GAP outfits I dressed us in, I award myself a Tiger Lily for my inaugural Roller Derby. I'm on the hunt for the next Little Rock Roller Derby where I will mentally award a Tiger Lily to the "me" in the crowd. She will be so easy to pick out.






Thursday, April 2, 2009

Sacred Queen and First Lady Embrace


First, I'd like to start with a few of my observations about the British culture:

My limited experience with the British* has lead me to believe that their culture encourages people to be sensational. And by sensational, I mean their sensational reaction to everyday life. Every story is a "big" story. Every relationship is steamy. Each crime is horrendous and the most outrageous of all mankind. Every person is destined for greatness and has a hidden talent just waiting to bloom.


I have also found that the British culture finds humor in silliness. Just take a look at some of the most brilliant British comedy out there, the (original) Office, Monty Python, Mr. Bean, Bridget Jones Diary: it's all a little bit silly. Sarcasm might even have to pack its bags and come back to America straight-away. It has no place across the pond.




Also, in the British culture, there are no "regular" people, are there? It's just one amazing, astonishing story after another. With loads of amazing stuff happening all around you every day, there is no way to be bored, sad or unsatisfied; instead, you are just constantly entertained.

And maybe that's just it, entertainment. This is a culture that wants to be entertained. Couple this need for sensational entertainment with their fascination with royalty and celebrity, and you get the following breaking news story: (I've edited some of the story out, but for the full story, go to: Did Michelle Obama break royal protocol by giving the Queen a hug?)

America's First Lady Michelle Obama broke royal protocol during
a reception at Buckingham Palace when she placed her arm around the Queen.

But rather than take offence, Her Majesty took the unusual step of returning the gesture by putting her arm round Mrs Obama's waist...

One said: '...The Queen started chatting to Michelle Obama. She appeared to look up at her and make a comment about how tall she was.

'As she did, she put her arm around Mrs Obama and rested her gloved hand on the small of her back.'

Almost simultaneously, Mrs Obama put her arm around the Queen's shoulders rather more firmly.

'The pair then looked at their feet and appeared to be discussing their shoes.

'The Queen then dropped her arm and, a few seconds later, Michelle did the same. The entire exchange lasted around eight to ten seconds but was absolutely extraordinary.'

No-one - including the ladies-in-waiting standing nearby - could believe their eyes. In 57 years, the Queen has never been seen to make that kind of gesture and it is certainly against all protocol to touch her.

How "absolutely extraordinary"! Perhaps all of the news of failing companies, lost investments, rising energy costs, and bailout negotiations have left the British media scrambling for a more entertaining and touching story. Well, Cheers! and Tiger Lily to the British. (Although I must note that CNN carried the same touching story this morning, just a little less sensational.)
*(In the sensational-style of the British I would like to note:) I am an expert in British culture. Having lived there for four weeks in college and visited almost two whole times, I have a firm grip on the ins-and-outs of British life. Moreover, I religiously follow the British celebrities in People like Jude Law and Kate Winslet, and they're British, aren't they?