Why do people gossip?  The gossip and fear of people gossiping stops many a fun moment dead in its tracks.   I am completely guilty of my fair share of gossip, but in the last 2 years or so, ever since I found a church home and frankly, honey, found a malignant lump in my left breast, my perspective and tolerance for gossip has diminished somewhat.

Now do not get too self righteous.  You know you can talk bad about folks just like the next person.  

True, voiceinmyhead, I can.  The only reason I bring this up is to point out I am beginning to understand it all.  I have wise friend who says, “We are all children of the universe.”  Whether you have a secular focus or a religious one, we are in competition with each other to be the favorite child.  It really is sibling rivalry at its core.  If and only if we face that fact and stop the competition will we be free to just be who we are meant to be.

Every single friend I have has someone out there gossiping about them.  Nobody is immune.  How do you inoculate yourself from that?  Do you strive to be perfect by wearing the right clothes, saying the perfect thing at all times, joining the right clubs, sending your children to the right schools.  Do you worry that you laugh too loudly, act too silly, or ever put your foot in your mouth?  Well then, ask yourself,  Do you always think of others, always remembering to be thoughtful and kind.  Are you always interesting, polite, generous, forgiving, and loyal.   Do you help the down trodden, speak out for justice, and calmly represent everything good and right in the world?  If that is your plan to avoid the mean talk behind your back, to avoid anything that might be judged, ( and I mean anything) then let me tell you a little secret.  Mother Theresa was a saint and I ain’t no saint and honey, neither are you.

We can try to be better people and we should.  We can work at being good children of the universe, but somebody will always talk about you behind your back.  No kidding. The very nicest friends I have are targets at times of some mean comments.  You (and I) will never ever be adored by all of mankind.  You will never be forgiven by every single person you offend or otherwise annoy by your mere taking up space at the table of life. Remember we are all a big family.  Brothers and sisters will bicker and complain about each other. I am trying to understand it and with help, move past it.

Let go of the fear that somebody is going to judge you or talk about you, because I promise somebody already is!!!  Honestly. They are.

…knowing that if you are kind and honest and do nobody any harm,  flouncing about while wearing a tiara and a big green gown just gives people something harmless to talk about, and that is a good thing even if it is at “The Club,” or the Cotillion, for that matter.  (An organization my dear husband will never likely be invited to join, due to his wife’s totally outrageous behavior.  Oh and here’s some gossip for you.  Did you know she kept her MAIDEN name?  Yes, honey.  She did.  It is not like she is from a important Savannah family or anything, so why keep your name?  Her daddy was just a teacher, I hear, in Statesboro, Georgia no less.  Plus she has a tattoo, God bless her poor, pitiful heart.) 

The voicemyhead is being  sarcastic now… but there is truth in humor.   So do not move through your one and only life in fear that people will start talking about you.  They already are.  Give them something fun to discuss.  Put on rhinestones and chiffon and come on a flounce with the Mint Julep Queens.   We are not perfect, but fear not.  Just being a Queen makes it all ok.

I can just imagine some of my friends being embarrassed for me after the day I had yesterday.  Which reminds me.  One of the questions in our Table Topics game is “What would you find more embarrassing? a) Seeing that your fly was down B) Finding out you had toilet tissue stuck to your shoe c) Discovering you have spinach stuck in your teeth.”  The girls, Stephen, and I all agreed the spinach offensive would be the most mortifying.    Over supper we use the Table Topics to generate some interesting conversations. 

My family used to discuss what random act of kindness we each had performed, but lately we are trudging through our days without being randomly kind.  So either we need to step it up in that department or we need to just be happy talking about the Table Topics. 

My day was one from hell.  Actually it could have been worse. The voiceinmyhead remembers worse days. 

I had not slept well the night before.  The Time change on Saturday was still messing with me.  Daylight saving time and “Spring Forward” was killing me.  To top it off, I had had one too many glasses of wine.  That never happens to me.  No kidding.  I have a pretty high tolerance or I did before Lent. I live in darn Savannah.  We drink in this town. 

But you see, if you give up alcohol for Lent and then have a glass on two on Sunday (because Sunday is not an official day of Lent), so you can have the item you gave up…well that one glass will knock you silly and then when you have another it will make you forget that you had a glass  already.  By the time you have finished the 3rd glass, it is all over and the next day is ugly.  Sad and ugly.  So I sit at lunch with Carolyn and admit it.  I am more head-achy and hung over than I have been in years and it is all because I gave up wine for Lent and then over indulged last night. 

Isn’t that sad?  Not really.  Wait.  It gets worse.  So I am sitting there and all of sudden my skin starts to feel like it is buzzing.  My scalp starts tingling and the soles of my feet start burning up.  Uh-oh.  Oh crap.  What in the world?  Then “bam” the memories of what this is all about start to hit me.  A darn Anxiety attack.  No.  It can not be. I have not had an anxiety attack in ages. 

There is no way to gracefully panic.  There is no way to elegantly pass out.  There is no way to stylishly puke.  Luckily I was just being Erica at lunch and NOT Queen Erica.  Queens keep a stiff upper lip and do not fall apart.  It would have been worse if you had been in green gown and tiara.   There is no way to not call attention to oneself when you have trouble standing up because the room is spinning and the adrenaline that is normal when you are in a fight or fright-life threatening situation is now pumping thought your veins and causing you to have all sorts of strange physical reactions that don’t stop.

Now my chest is feeling tight and my heart is racing and I know I should breath slowly and deeply, but instead the shallow breaths starts and then I hyperventilate.  Are you kidding?  That is not very smart.  So I shakily tell Carolyn,  “Carolyn, I think I am gonna pass out.  I am having a anxiety attack.”

Normally Carolyn is a walking medicine cabinet.  She sells real estate for a living, but in another life she was a pharmacist, I believe.  Or maybe a dealer.

“Do you have a Xanax?” I ask, praying that she does. 

“No.  I am sorry. You will be fine.  What can I do?” She tries to comfort me.

“I have some at home.  I need to get home.” I can’t even see.  That is an exaggeration.  I can see, but everything is blurry.  Ok, fine. But you can see. And you can stop this if you just concentrate.  Focus.  The voiceinmyhead is really annoyed with me.

I am trying to focus.  So I stumble up and she has to support me.  I make it to the steps and put my head between my knees.  It reminds me of the last time I almost passed out. 

The mammographer was showing me the small metal chip that the radiologist had inserted with a large needle into the lump I had found in my breast.  I was standing there calmly and then suddenly the room was spinning and I almost hit the floor.  It was April 30, 2010 and I had just had a needle biopsy.  Ginger, the R.N in charge fanned me as I lay on the examine table.   She told me about her vacation plans to go to Thailand and ride elephants.  It helped get my mind off the fear and it gave her something to do besides take my blood pressure every few minutes.

So as I sat trembling and shaking on the steps of Johnny Harris, all I could think was how ridiculous it was that I could not control this random reaction.  Carolyn helped me get into the car.  It felt like I was having a stroke, but I wasn’t. That’s just what anxiety attacks feel like.

So when it was all over, normally I would feel a tad bit embarrassed that I had caused a little scene.  Having a friend have to almost carry me out and all that mess.  That kind of embarrassment, you know?  But today, at this point in my life, I am not embarrassed.  I am proud to be who am.  Imperfections and all.  But given a choice, I would much rather have had spinach stuck in my teeth or had problems with my zipper.    

Going on 10 years ago I had visions of each unique member of  the Mint Julep Queens developing their own style.  As I saw it, the member would evolve and produce her own iconic image of what a Queen is.  What does a Queen wear?  Who is that queen that lives in your heart and gets out only on select occasions?

I remember telling Wendy about the group when she wanted to know what we all wore.  Wendy is an artist and an exceptional visual person who needs to have a mental image of the MJQs to begin to wrap her mind around our frivolous existence.  At the time, I explained that we each wore what we thought was Regal.  It could be a true pageant queen dress, a fairy tale princess dress or an historic costume.  The only requirement was to wear green since we did want group photos to be pretty and having one hue just seemed smart.

Not to mention the fact that you love green!  and red heads look so good in green. Of course now you barely qualify as a red head.  Which reminds me, you need to call Dennis and make an appointment for a color restoration.  Get out your calendar and let’s see…what will work?  …uhmm

The voiceinmyhead is painfully aware of how 8 years have aged me and talking about my unrealized goals for the Mint Julep Queens just makes me sound pitiful.

Not exactly pitiful.  More like naive. 

So I had thought the self-costuming and excitement would happen.  I would have adored seeing Queen Dottie in a Queen Elizabeth styled ruff and an ermine trimmed cloak would have been so exquisite.   Dottie would be just wonderful as an Elizabethan Queen.

But again.  It is NOT about YOUR ideas.  It is about each woman’s own connection to Royal spirit.  Maybe Dottie does not want to be all costume-y and historic looking.  Maybe she does not want to call attention to herself.  Just because she is one of the oldest Queens, seems you could be more…

Mature…NOT oldest.  Mature.  And I agree.  It is not about me.  But this is. Why not at least try to get some costume connections going?  Like with Savannah College of Art and Design.  They have a costume department.  Maybe someone would like to design a gown for me.  It could happen.  If I had to select a look…just one, I want a Fairy Queen Midsummer Night’s Dream look.   With a custom crown that lights up and has an art nouveau vibe to it.

Why so magical?

I do not know, honey.  But I think I heard someone say they could not fit into their big ol’ mass of multicolored chiffon and that she was too old and needed a “serious” dress.   I  am praying right this second that I never get too old for a cray-zee dress and that some how I can convince SCAD’s costume department to take us all on as clients who need wardrobe assistance in a desperate way.  Queen Kim is helping with this project so I have every confidence it will happen…and hopefully soon enough to keep someone out there from buying a Darn Boring Ass dress.  Or God forbid letting their darn husband buy them a “serious” from Nordstroms or somewhere equally mature.

Maybe you need to accept that some queens prefer a simple dress.  More Margaret Thatcher looking and less Elizabeth I…face it. 

Maybe we become the Mint Julep Prime Ministers?

No. There is room in the group for simple, serious and low key.  Really. It is just not YOUR look.  You have talked about this before.  Let it go. we are each different in style and personalty.  Each Queen expresses their royalty in a unique way. 

The voiceinmyhead has gotten all tolerant and accepting.  

After almost 10 years organizing this group, it is high time.  It is what it is…  

 (click, honey. you need to see these BIG)

If bad things happen in 3’s, do good things also happen in 3’s?  I drove home today after having a temporary crown placed after breaking a permanent crown last Friday.  I drove along under a huge canopy of oak tree branches laced over head like massive fluid elephant legs bent all over the the street and connecting in rough vein-like grey patches.  The largeness of the trunks and branches created an Extreme the arbor over Washington Avenue.  Although I adore the iconic Southern-ness of live oaks and drippy smoke colored Spanish Moss, and it took every fiber of my being to focus on being thankful for that view.

Face it.  You were feeling sorry for yourself and not thankful.  Not thankful at all. You were looking in the mirror and fretting over your numb, lop-sided lips.

I was looking at the trees and thinking how lucky I am to be in this car and not lying in a hospital bed recovering from some God-awful illness or injury.

Keep your focus on the road or you will have a wreck, the voiceinmyhead kept saying. You know you are not supposed to be driving less than 24 hours after being under anesthetic.

Oh yeah.  I forgot to tell you, I had a D & C yesterday.  Just a routine thing they tell me, but not at all fun or Royal.  So the bad stuff: 1. D&C at the hospitial, 2. Broken Crown at the dentist, and then 3. ripped contacts and no replacements in stock.

Thankfully I got your attention off the damn live oak trees down Washington Avenue or you would have gotten a ticket when we sped past that police car.  So that must be Good Thing Number 1.  See!  The Good things are really starting!

The voiceinmyhead is so seldom positive. I guess that is good thing number 2  right by itself.

So Good Thing Number 3 is what we are waiting for.

Maybe it already happened and I missed it.

Uhmmm.  Let me think.  This morning you saw a photo that helped you figure out that one of your dreams is to ride with a Krewe in a parade during Festival season in New Orleans.  Identifying a dream is an important step.  A step to what I do not know, but a step.

Really?

Yes.  Laissez les bons temp rouler!

The voiceinmyhead knows me pretty well.

(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.

       Mary selected the Andrew Low House as the location of her photo for the membership directory. The flounce in October was one of the most diverse and unpredictable ones we have ever had. We meet the producer of a local movie.  We eat the pirates house olive puff Queen Ann brought along and we had hot dogs at a new deli on Broughton. The ones of Ann and her girls and of me and mine will follow very soon.

Planning for November 11 is going well.  I know the Arty Party is that night so lots of MJQs will miss the photo shoot with Kelsey.  Honestly lots missed Mary’s, too! The core group will flounce on and be the visual presence of Queendom in Savannah for the group.  Never fear.