I miss the youthful, ignorant Inner Stooges who helped me be rather risky, crazy, and fun-loving.    They gave me a mythical belief that I am invincible.  I can do it all and have a riotous time in the process.

I miss Moe.  Moe would say, “Nothing bad ever happens to me.  I know I should not be having this second shot of tequila, but it will all be ok in the morning because I am so massively smart.  I will just skip American Lit.  So what if I make a B?  I know I should be taking advanced biology, but the easy ‘A’ in psychology will help my GPA. And a ‘B’ average is plenty good enough in liberal arts.  Especially if you do not have to really work for it. ”

Larry was always yammering “Go ahead.  Stay up all night writing that paper.  Or now that I think about it, don’t!  It won’t matter that much later, but instead go ahead and decorate for Christmas.  Climb up on the roof edge and string the Christmas lights now.  Plug ‘em in first.  Or start a new project. Pull out all your art supplies right this second, wash your brushes, then put the brushes in a nice tin can and start the painting.  Leave the decorations in the corner until you need them. And tomorrow, go adopt a rescue kitty.”

Curly would tell me, “Ritz crackers dipped in blue cheese dressing counts as the main course for supper.  Four Little Debbies is fine if you drink milk with it.  Chase that with some black olives and celery with pimento cheese as a palate cleanser.”  Curly really did not know the concept of palate cleanser.  That is totally a manufactured memory. The voiceinmyhead likes pointing out Curly was none too bright.

I think the Three Stooges helped me seize fun and ignore responsibility years ago.  My Three Stooges are in hiding.  Or at least locked  in the closet for the last few months since they can be such an embarrassment.  

This weekend I am going out with the Mint Julep Queens even though I have tons of to do and am exhausted from being an adult all the darn time time.   I mean it.  All the darn time.  Working, parenting, wife-ing.  Is Wife-ing a word?  It should be.  Anyone who is or has been a wife knows what I mean. Although part of me is wishing I could put on warm jammies, watch Cary Grant movies, and not talk to anybody for a  couple of hours on Saturday night.  A larger part of me knows that if I put on a rhinestone tiara. I will have fun.   That Larger part is my inner Curly.  If I put on green chiffon and huge-ass petti-coat I will flounce about like a young girl again, right Larry?  If I wear my glitter eye liner and Dior Rouge lipstick I will take a good photo and look more like a Royal Character.  Ok with you, Moe?  If I just show up, ready to play, I will have an adventure.

Somebody will smile and laugh and feel joy that they too are a Queen in their heart of hearts.  Somebody will do a Queen’s wave and clap.  A little girl will approach  and have her mom take a picture with the Queens after she is given a tiara of her very own.  Which reminds me, I need to go shopping for that.  Maybe somebody recovering from chemo will be out on their birthday and the MJQs will serenade them with a special Happy Birthday song. It has happened.

I have so much pushing on me to do, I do not have time or energy to go out-n-about acting all outlandish.  Every lady I know is in the same boat.  But making a memory and being kid again is my priority for exactly five hours this weekend.  I will listen to the clamoring of the Stooges.  I will let them out of the closet.  If we all set aside a few hours every few months or so to just be a kids again, celebrate being alive, and be a tad bit silly– the world would be better place.  Or at least it would be more slap-stick and not so downright mean, which does not sound too bad right about now.

What about Shemp?  He got left out.  Don’t worry. Shemp is doing my shopping for childrens’  Royal Trinkets. 

The Mint Julep Queens have a new Minister of Transportation, Sir Richard.  His 1966 Black Cadillac convertible , Dezi was our chariot during the Tybee Island Mardi Gras Parade.  The MJQ Krewe took turns riding and walking down the Butler Avenue.

 Click for a big image

Tybee Island is calling our names again.  It is whispering “Royal Highnesses!  Please come back and Flounce down our Quaint streets.  Come back and wave to the commoners who eagerly line the parade routes and-”

Wait.  Parade?  We do not work making floats or trudging along behind loud marching bands.  A parade?  We may watch one, but the effort involved getting a float together and the crepe paper.   Really crepe paper, of all things.

“Highness,  there is no effort needed.  No float required.  Just come in full regalia  and pass out tokens of your incredible kind esteem to the throngs that will line the path cheering for you.”

Do we have to wear heels?

“Majesty, Converse All-Stars, properly bejeweled will suffice.”

Well then,  please let the committee know that the MJQs accept with pleasure their kind invitation to attend Tybee Island’s Mardi Gras & Mint Julep Queen Parade.  

“Very good, Majesty. ”

That is all.

“One last thing I must reveal to you.  The commitee has named the Parade a Mardi Gras Parade and the MJQs are not part of the advertising.”

What?!

“-merely as a precaution, you understand.  The Tybee Island police and security departments may not be equipped to managed the extreme attendance if You, The Queens are an announced participant.  May we let this be a surprise appearence for the residents, so as not to over strain the bobbies?  They have a hard enough time dealing with the masses.”

Well, if we must…it is better for the Realm.

“Very good, M’am.  Now I am off to purchase some glitter for the Royal Converse.   —*whew* that was a close one.”

Yep.  I am a day late and a dollar short.  So the fine print contest is over.

You missed the October 31 deadline… by a few hours.  Figures.  The voiceinmyhead, my self-talking, overworked,  inner voice is not surprised.

Organizing an all out effort to win a position as a blogger for Paula is not on my to do list.  Shoot.  I did not even know the contest existed until 15 minutes ago.  I was in the middle of researching, filing, and organizing my writing.

Researching is code for procrastination.  Filing is code for tossing stuff in the trash.  And writing?  Well, writing is code for…Writing is writing! Really.  Being a full time mother of a high school student, Sage and a 5th grader, Selia, plus working outside my home as speech therapist and a part-time writer, I sure understand all the demands placed on women’s time.  Demands placed by our family, our jobs, and even ourselves.

Hey. You talkin’ ’bout me?  I’m  just giving friendly guidance.  Gotta keep you on task, so to speak.  Oh.  Right.  The inner voice all women have keeps a running a “to do” list and a running tab on what is next.  A litany of  ”Have I called to RSVP for Mimi’s party?  Is the dog due for its flea meds?  I wonder if the dryer is breaking?  I smell burning dust. No, that is the heater.  Coils need cleaning….”  And the list goes on and on.  But do I ever schedude time for FUN?  Not often.  But when I do honeys, it is a red letter day, (or night.)

So tonight I am going out tonight.  Do you have dinner planned for Stephen and the girls?  Naw.  I figure they can get dinner on their own.  Wow! Throwing caution to the wind!  I like it!  Let the party begin.  

So clearly my writing is hard to schedule.  My life is very busy.  But ultimately one priority is making time for FUN!    

(click for the big pic)

The Mint Julep Queens address notes to each other “Dear Queen So-So” and many of us close our letters with a one of a kind closing such as, ”Yours in all that is Pomp and Circumstance,” “Reign On!,”  or “Keep Reigning!:).”  Jennifer says, “Time to Queen it up in Savannah, Georgia!” and now Lee Ann has a phrase- “Rock & Reign!”

One needs a special closing when one writes anything as Queen.  The more we do the more we need to remember to write those thank-you notes to the sweet commoners who come to our aid, who pay homage, or generally applaud our local Reign. We encourage Queens to develop their own unique letter closing so we can end our little notes with a flourish.  Just so you know, The Royal Wave need not be unique, since we do it in unison, a tab bit like synchronized wave with an attached British ”He-llooo” when riding in our carriage.  We want our waves to look alike, but lock step sameness in attire and literary voice is just too dull.  Maybe isolating the proper closing that expresses your own special Regal power will take some time and that is ok.  Better for your phrase to represent the real you, than to force it and come up with an incongruity or tacky.

I suggest that everyone needs a club name at some time in their lives, as well. You best be thinking about that too, if you do not have one.  Linda gave us the idea several years ago when she divulged that when she went clubbing, she went out as Aida.  It was just a whole lot safer she thought for folks to not know her real identity.  Queen Lee Ann has been an Mint Julep Queen for several years now and she has finally found the Closing proclamation “Rock and Reign!” since she ran the Rock and Roll Marathon a few weeks months ago.  It suits her.  And lucky girl, she has a new club name, too! 

So every four years we have a Leap Year lounge party.  I expect it will be so much fun that we will talk about it for the next four years.  The only really sad part about this, (and honeys, you can count on me to find the cloud attached to the silver lining)..the sad disappointing part is that so many MJQs will miss it. and they will have to wait another 4 years to have another chance to say they were there.  There at Mercury lounge, under an assumed club name, shaking their Royalty on the dance floor.

 Of 30 members, I would guess 8 queens will be totally excited to cut loose and hang out in a seedy bar dancing to some R & B. Luckily for me, the joy of putting a tiara on and wearing jeans and boots is not influenced by attendance.  Or the lack there of. 

Oh come on!  You know that you get all irked when so few queens participate.  Just face it.  What is fun for you is NOT necessarily fun for all.

The voiceinmyhead is speaking out of turn.  That is one of the issues I am working on and I feel that just accepting the lack of availability for Fun evenings out is part of learning to Reign. Learning that each Queen gets what they put into the group.  If they put in Royal spirit and Girl Power energy, they get that back.  If you sow little Diamonds of Fun, you will be handed whole Tiaras of Joy.

Oh my goodness.  I cannot stand that. <eyes rolling> Sooo syrupy sweet and Hallmark card of you.

It is not.  “I own Tiaras of Joy” is cool sounding.  I think it needs to be on a Jessica Kagan Cushman cuff bracelet at Bergdorfs.  Just think.  Acrylic resin for 150.00.  Or one of her diamond things for 1500.00.  Yep, that would be cool.  And so Royal!

How about “I am so Royal!”?

Oh my, yes!!! Fun Queens would get one and queens who never do anything with the group…NOPE.  So sad too bad. They do not qualify. So that cute bracelet would be like a prize for just being Fun loving:) They would have to attend at least 2 parties a year to get one.

Ah HA! there you go.  Back to normal.  Being controlling and judgemental again. My work here is done. Time for a little retail therapy.  What are shipping costs at Berdorfs??? 

But prizes for Queens?  I do not have that kind of cash.  Are you kidding me?

Well one day.  Just do some window shopping now and plan for the day when you have that kind of money.  Prizes for people who participate is a great idea. It is the reward/ gold star method of controlling behavior.

Encouraging. NOT controlling.  I am encouraging. Really. 

<yeah whatever> 

(These shoes are Queen Lee Ann’s.  If only this image could capture the twinkly lights that covered the straps!  Ohhh! Ahhh! -The epic cute-ness of it makes me dizzy. I need to sit down right after I pour myself a little drink.)  

Flashing shoes are remarkable.  Don’t you mean flash-y?  “Y” not ing???  Nope. I mean what I said.  These shoes are flashing with a little battery pack in the platform sole.  Since it is Leap Year this year and we need another Leap Year Lounge Party,  I want this type of thing to wear to a dark, old club.    

I can see it now. I would walk in with a swish of chiffon and glitter in my hair and my platforms all electric.  (Think of the sashay Renee` Zellweger did in ”Down with Love,” but in a big pouf dress.)  A really authentic R & B band would be playing in the corner.  Just making it all feel like New Orleans in the French Quarter, but better (’cause we are in Savannah, honey and in case you did not know, Savannah trumps New Orleans in the super Southern Icon department.  Or at least I believe it does.)  So anyway, back to me and my imaginings…these shoes literally flash and glow as I get to dance and flounce to my hearts content. 

One thing I adore about Being Queen is it allows me to forget the hardships of the week.  It gives my brain time that is free from worrying with the demands of my over scheduled life and listening to the self criticizing, agonizing inner voice, thevoiceinmyhead who keeps track of my To Do List.  The voice that asks me whether I have done enough, said too much, worn the right dress, remembered a birthday, put a thank you note in the mail, finished a report, sent the report to the right doctor, remembered to spell check the damn report, helped a child with autism, finished my billing, been kind to my children & husband, put enough money in the bank, done my share, eaten enough fiber, walked the dog, scheduled the dog’s fecal exam, emptied the dishwasher, changed my invisalign trays, or forgotten something.  The voiceinmyhead is constantly thinking I have forgotten something. 

Now wait right there.  You are making me sound like a nag.  I just hate to be late.  I do not want things to fall through the cracks. I hate for things not to run perfectly, you know. I am on your side!  I am the unpaid personal assisitant and you have lots going on, so someone has to worry about it.  I am just helping you out and you darn well know it!    

I know.  You are a big help. How about this.  Since I can’t pay you, why don’t you take some time off when I wear my tiara? It would work for both of us.  You always say it is too heavy and gives you a headache.

Hey that’s down right decent of you.  Sure! I would love a little holiday.  When will you wear your tiara again? I will plan a little vay-kay.  You sure you will be ok without me?  I mean I keep track of soooo much!  And that darn tiara does give me a headache. I got such a big ol’ pumpkin head with all this brain I got happenin’ in here…boy oh boy some time off. *giggle*

Yeah. I will be fine. We got an event on the 28th so that is time you can stop all the worrying and the lists for a few hours. Mint Julep Queens do not worry or work.  Queens flounce through the moment with peace and poise…and sometimes electric shoes. *giggle*

Cell phone pictures are grainy and shady.  That might be a good thing. So was this joint.  It was a fabulous time and total adventure with the commoners.  If fact, we acted common our selves and so we fit right in.

November 11th was Kelsey’s Membership photo op and Flounce Night.  We met at McDonough’s and she had her photo made on Drayton Street as the cars rode by giving us a really nice headlight effect in the background.  Paul Suszynski did the picture for her.  I cannot wait to see them.

We had one adventure after another.  All unique to the place, pace, and time.  A guy came up to Lee Ann and stroked her mink while informing us he was a hunter and tanned hides and prepared to prepare furs and this was a nice one.  Then he showed her the hole in his back pants pocket and processed to flirt with her for the first part of this night.  Another guy who looked like a famous celebrity came up to wish us well.  I will post his photo and you tell me, doesn’t he look like an old Mr Clean?  A Mr. Clean who has let himself go through the years and put on a few pounds.  Guess he stopped mopping or something. 

Then we went on a carriage ride with a sweet girl from upstate New york as our guide.  She tried to do the standard tour for about 5 minutes and then gave up, since we knew more about the city than she. One of the wonderful white horses was named King.  The other one was Cheney.  Cheney will only work with King.  He either has to pull the carriage all by himself or he will allow King to work by his side.  King had a really good ol’ horse personality I think, and when I came up to talk with him he nudged and nuzzled and Cheney got jealous and pushed him to try and get the spotlight on him.  King was misnamed.  He was more of a “George.”  Maybe in a stretch, King George. 

After wine that Lee Ann sweetly brought on the ride, we went upstairs to Billy(Lee) ‘S Place.  It reminded me of Emma Kelly’s place years ago.  A piano player and  a bunch of drunk old folks hanging around and singing.  Of course, I was rather over served myself and one of the Queens had made error in her cocktail orders and thought a Manhattan was a pretty drink, therefore ordered one.  The Pretty drink had her getting her beauty sleep by resting her head. We took a cab home and paid the price the next day.  I am writing a essay about the experience, but this blog entry will have to just let y’all know tad bit about what we did.  Who was there? and Did we have fun?  Lee Ann, Kelsey, Barbara, Becky C, Lady Katie and three of Barbara’s sorority chums from Ohio State were there.  I told u what we did. And yes.  We had Fun.

(click for the BIG image)

So when we Flounced on October 8th, I was disappointed for a whole host of reasons.  All of them due to my dashed expectations.  To my mood and my lack of patience.  I still cannot get fake eyelashes on my darn eyes.  That is an exaggeration.  I can do it, IF and only if I have 30 extra minutes to deal with the glue and the placement and the eyeliner and the misery when the glue gets in the rim of my eye and I have to start over from square one.  Plus, add in the fact that I wear contacts and that complicates the mistakes when the glue does seep around past the eyelash base.  Oh you do care about that. I am just telling you to give you one tiny little window into the experience of that night. 

When we arrived at Ellis Square there was a freak show going one.  At least that is how I thought of it, since it not only looked like a carnival sideshow show, but it smelled like one, too.  The eau d’ horses’ urine and the cigarette smoke really destroy the ambiance.  Maybe next flounce I will pack a small travel size Diorissimo or Miss Dior Cheri.  The nosegay from the Victorian era is becoming a concept that I may embrace, now that I think about it…

Anyway, the show included a couple.  A man and a women who were fighting.  Or at least I thought so.  I thought so until I got closer and heard the guy tell the lady (right after he almost hit her and she fell to the ground) to “Just lay there. “  She did.  He told her, “Just lay there and be still. “  She did it some more.  Then she would bounce up and do a Karate Kid kick and they would circle each other sparring and hitting the air.  The she would fall and “just lay there.” 

I start feeling a tad dizzy from the obvious lack of charm that we are surrounded by.  The commoners were not just commoners.  They were extra common,  commoners. 

I love waving to the commoners and they love us, but I have decided Ellis Squareon Saturday night is too much like Bourbon Street.  Too tourista.  So the tourist element, at this time and at this location was not the level of tourist one finds in say…Charleston.  It was the River Street and Bourbon Street level of experience.  Not Royalty worthy.

But to return to the good thing that I am grabbing holt of.  (Yes.  I said it. Grabbin’ Holt of. It is a saying).  The freak show couple was not a really fighting and they were not paid actors.  The producer guy, Chip who come up and told us he was filming in Ellis Square had not hired the Fighting Couple to add color to his film, “Untouched.” After researching his name, I saw on his blog that he had found out the couples’ name and they were just being silly. So I have hope for his film. 

The Fighting Couple was completely on their own. They were free agents acting out their own peculiar fantasy in the middle of Ellis Square, just like the MJQs were.  So when I critique the fantasy, which I love doing by the way, all I can say is this, “Be Royal.  Wear chiffon. Spread Joy.  If you can’t do all three, do one of them. What are y’all spreading?” Looked to me like they were just spreading cra-zee….