The Musings of a Latte Queen: Narratives of Everyday Life

It is very hard for me to believe books will go the way of the dinosaurs. This past weekend was the annual Greater St. Louis Book Fair, held in the parking lot of Macy's in the West County Mall.  This year, like other years, people lined up, skating in and out of the black rubber lanes, waiting for the opening of the event.  Like other years, people had the option of paying on Thursday to enter that evening for a chance to view the rare and collectible volumes. It was a bibliophiles dream!  There were tables and tables, rows and row or books, and people of all sizes, shapes, colors, ages, income, education, and employment levels snaking in and out of the rows of books.  To a person, they all carried a bag, pushed a shopping cart, some with suitcases, others with storage tubs, all carefully examining the volumes before them, picking them up, turning them over, opening to pages, standing and reading. This annual event in Des Peres is matched with a few other annu...

Some things are and will always be the constants in my life, the things I know will be there when I want them to and will be the way I need them to be. I am taking a few classes on Coursera.com, a chance to renew the liberal arts in me and make my heart explore the deep things of the soul.  Now, I am terribly behind in a couple of classes, I signed up for them before I decided to toss my hat in the ring for the school board election.  I've been spending the past three weeks recuperating from the relenting schedule, the emotional turmoil, and the complete upheaval of life that putting yourself on the public stage entails. So it is in my recovery and renewal that I inevitably turned to the contacts in my life.  Those things that are assured to be just what my soul needed and my spirit craved.  Beyond a conversation with God and a moment with my family, it is my relationship with books and coffee where I experience the divine. Maybe it is the writer in me, maybe i...

It is raining...again! There is something about the rain that makes one want to just snuggle up under some covers, sip a latte, and read a good book, watch an old movie, sleep, sleep, sleep. Today is no exception, it is Thursday, what happens on Thursday? Piles of research sitting on floor beside the laptop begging to be read, photos begging to be analyzed, articles begging to be written, and the only motivation right now is a warm latte and a good book - that will be reviewed, of course, but a good book and covers. Then, stopping to look outside, one is reminded of the power of the dynamic of words, the power to utter a phrase and change the conversation, alter the narrative. Such is this moment, on this rainy day when the narrative is being altered about the race, ethnicity, and identity of the Boston Massacre bomber. Sometimes, in the rush for justice and in the insatiable social media, tweet, blog, right now news stream, they get it wrong and they did just that yesterda...

Rain can be cleansing and refreshing, replenishing to the soil and the earth, preventing droughts, and renewing the land. Today, the rain and the gray clouds are like teardrops on the pavement. Boston did not have to happen. The lives lost did not have to happen.  A little 8 year old boy did not have to die, his little 6 year old sister maimed for life, his mother fighting life threatening illnesses. Teardrops are falling. I tried hard not to listen to the news yesterday and even this morning as more and more reports are coming in.  It is unsettling, unknowing, and uncertain - the feelings that tower over us all in the light of another tragedy. One often wants to just ask "why?" when this happens, when anything that is beyond our comprehension devastates lives.  We are still healing from a tragic loss four months ago and now another one is set on the national stage. A good friend of mine is a Muslim woman and she fears the questioning that will happen to anyon...

I dubbed this No-Filter Monday because I was really tired of being PC about everything. So, let me get this straight, in church (went yesterday) you all want to say the man is in charge and women should submit - even if the man is a screw-up who jacks up everything. Then the media from left to right portrays black women as whores, sluts, mammys, or mad black women who are only worth $0.64 for every $1.00 a white man makes (thank you Dr. Melissa Harris-Perry for giving it straight on Sunday). And today is Tax Day so a bunch of white (yes, white), rich men in Congress and their uber wealthy buddies have their money hidden in tax accounts in the Caymen Islands or in trust fund accounts for Buffy and Miffy, but the average Joe or Jane is being sued by the IRS because of a missed $22 in gas credits for working at home. Then to top the whole thing off, the student loan interest is capitalized again and again because you are not making any substantial money to pay the stupid thing bec...

Sipping a homemade caramel-coconut milk latte, looking out the balcony windows, watching the gentle breeze in the trees, tiny buds swaying, I'm sitting here, looking out at the future and pondering the past few months, wondering if it was worth it. I recuperated at home the past couple of days, I really didn't realize how physically exhausted I'd become over the past few weeks of the election.  The week of the election we went to Chicago so even then, I was on a fast pace.  When I finally sat down, I realized I had a lot to process. Someone complimented me on the way I ran my campaign, dubbing me the "thinking man's candidate" and someone else said they really respected me for running in a community like Kirkwood.  The accolades meant a lot to me because it was a hard race, very hard, one I am still processing. Like anyone who lives in a community and wants the best outcome for their children, I tuned into the election, to what all the candidates had to ...

It has been almost a week since the election. I lost, never expected to win.  I made it an election and I got people to talk about the issues, that is important to me. The aftermath will be interesting.  I realized that either people want the popular, but not-very-bright, because to have something more substantive forces them to think, to confront their prejudices, and to examine their motives. It is the same in every aspect of life.  Power and control are twins that keep coming up in everything related to the public sphere. I realized it in the general election, even more so in our local election, and simply in the every day happenings at the local elementary school - people like to be 'in charge' in some way and will do whatever, say whatever to keep their little fiefdom. Why? Perhaps it is a bit of the narcissist in them, in us.  Like the addict who always insists that it is someone else who is "distracting" them and they "just can't do this an...

The exhilarating joy of life and learning. This is the day after the election and for the first time in about four months, I am not planning a speech, researching notes, writing a post, or anything related to the school district. Pretty happy right now. No, I did not win the election, congratulations to the winners, but did win a new friend, brought issues to light, made it a campaign, and kept my race clean.  Pretty happy right now about that. We are traveling this weekend to rest and regroup and will be returning to get caught up on four months of missed laundry, writing, and studying. I learned a lot and am very proud of myself for running, especially since I am not from here and live in our version of Peyton Place, at times.  I am very happy. My girls hugged me this morning and said, "yeah, we get our mom back."  My husband was a silent support last night as we waited for results while enjoying appetizers at Cicero's.  I thanked him for his ...

April 1st has been an emotional day for me every since my son was born. Today, on this Monday, I am definitely a bit emotional, thoughtful, thankful, and hopeful. My first born, my beautiful boy, came into this world to a young, naive, mother who barely knew anything.  My tall, skinny frame held him inside, my late father teasing me that they were going to have to "tie a wheelbarrow around you" because from the back I never looked pregnant.  I can close my eyes now and see the rush to the hospital, the nurse who was mad she couldn't "prep" me (glad they do not do all that stuff anymore!), and the doctors barely ready to catch the boy who was definitely coming before the car could be parked. I loved him from before the moment I held his chubby body and and looked into those squinty eyes and apple cheeks.  His head was covered in hair that eventually curled softly and his color "came in" as we say with black babies - a really soft shade of tan.  Th...