Memories of Music...

Today was the first day of school. For my "Mass Media and Society" class, I was required to find a song that I feel defines me as a person and post a YouTube link to it. I liked this idea so much, I decided to share it with all of you.

The song I chose was "Return to Pooh Corner" by Kenny Loggins. Perhaps it doesn't define me so much as it defines my childhood.



Every time I hear the familiar melody and words of this song I picture my dad, sitting on the couch playing his guitar. I'm about 5 years old, it's close to bedtime, so I'm already pretty sleepy. My sisters and I are lying on the floor in our pajamas. Dad has been playing songs for us for the last hour, and we are begging him to play just one more. (Stalling bedtime for as long as possible)



Dad smiles, and tells us it's getting late. We give him the best puppy-dog eyes we can manange and add a synchronized "Pleease?" Dad smiles again, and shakes his head. He's no match for his little girls. "Okay. Just one more. Which song do you want to hear?" The decision is unanimous. "The Christopher Robin song!" (If you've ever heard the song before, you'll know why we gave it this alternate title.)

Dad's voice is always the one I hear in my head whenever I think about "Return to Pooh Corner." Kenny Loggins does alright I guess, but he's no match for Dad in my mind.


My family is a large part of what defines me as a person. So is music. Sitting here thinking about Dad singing and playing the guitar makes me want to find the time to pick up my guitar, or sit at the piano, or just start singing for the heck of it. (A little note about me: If you want to get through to me in the most effective way possible, you'll be able to do it with music. Every time.)

There are probably quite a few songs I could compile that would spell out the many different seasons of my life. Maybe someday I will find the time to put them all together, but until then...here's the link to my chosen song for the day:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BpXUYIOoFzM

If you were to pick one song that defines you or a significant part of your life, what would it be? I would love to know your stories.

A Night on the Town...

Last night, my husband and I took the night off from being parents for a few hours and went out to the theatre to see "The Lion King" broadway musical. I took a few pictures during the course of the afternoon and evening, and will be posting them for your viewing pleasure. You're welcome.



My best friend Alicia agreed to come and watch the kids for us, and she was due to get here at 4:30 so Tyler and I could go out to dinner before the show. About 45 minutes before she was due to come over, I went upstairs to get ready for my night out. My hair was wet, so I pulled out my blow-dryer to fix it. Being the clumsy butter fingers that I am, I dropped the stupid thing on the tile floor of our bathroom. Admittedly, I've dropped it many times before, so I didn't think much of the incident until I plugged the thing in. I flipped the "ON" switch, and...nothing. I am 45 minutes away from a night at the theatre, and my stupid blowdryer goes and gives up the ghost!



Needless to say, I'm pissed. How dare that piece of crap just up and die on me right as I need it the most? I discarded the traitorous appliance into the trash where it belonged, then moved on to my only option. It turned out to be my saving grace.

Months ago, on the recommendation of my sister, I purchased a hair straightener. Not just any straightener, a Remington "Wet 2 Straight" hair straightener. You're actually supposed to be able to use this thing to dry your wet/damp hair and make it look fabulous without a blow dryer. I've really loved it, but due to a warning from that same sister that I mentioned before, I've only ever used it on my already dry hair. Last night, however, I had to put my faith in this little appliance's claims. What do you know? It worked! My hair looked fabulous, and I had to do a little dance of celebration. Yay!

Alicia arrived soon after I'd finished getting ready, and I took her through the nightly routine for the kids. By then, it was about 5:00. I kissed the little ones and Tyler and I walked out the door.

We went to one of our favorite restaraunts and enjoyed a lovely dinner. I was even careful not to spill food/raspberry lemonade all over myself (impressive, I know). Then, we were on our way to the theatre (to be pronounced THE-ah-tah!)

We got there VERY early, an hour and a half early, to be exact. We decided that, rather than sit around waiting, we would walk around the city for a while. The weather was perfect. Warm, but cloudy with just the right amount of wind to keep things extra pleasant. We thought we would look around in the local shops and things. The only problem? ALL of the shops were either empty and out of business, or they closed at 6 pm. Stupid, but true.



I didn't really mind the closed shops so much as I minded the fact that my feet were getting all sorts of blistered from walking around in the worst walking shoes EVER! I had to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, dig around in my purse for a band-aid (a Mom is always prepared!) and bandage up my poor torn up heel. I was limping as we made our way to the theatre, and had to replace my bandage, but we were there!

We got our tickets torn, and still had plently of time to hang around before the house opened. Finally, we made our way up to our seats. I'm not trying to brag (much), but we have pretty awesome seats. Here's the view:



Right next to our seats, we turn and see an entire set of percussion instruments. To be honest, we were pretty worried that having those things playing right next to us would drown out the entire show. When the percussionist came to take his place and prepare for the show, Tyler actually stood and asked him how loud it would be. The guy didn't really know, but he said he didn't think it would be too loud. I thought: "Yeah, we'll see."

Finally, several minutes late, the lights went down and the show began. I'm not gonna lie, the show was spectacular. The music, the costumes, the choreography...all amazing. And the drums right next to us? We actually loved it. They weren't so loud that they drowned anything out, in fact some of the sounds he was making were so subtle we couldn't imagine that anyone else would have even noticed them. I was amazed, watching the guy out of the corner of my eye as he played the bongos and other instruments. Every tiny little change in the pressure and position of his hands and fingers made such different sounds. I was blown away by how talented he was. Well done, Drummer Man! I have no idea what your name is, but thanks!

Overall, I loved my night out, and I would like to thank all the people who made it possible.

First, I'd like to thank Alicia for coming to babysit. You're my hero!

Second, I'd like to thank Remington for making the world's best hair straightener.

Next, I want to send a big thanks in the direction of Winger's for a fabulous dinner.

I'd also like to thank myself for being smart enough to stock my purse with Band-Aids.

I want to thank all of the actors and actresses who made "The Lion King" such a fantastic experience.

Another thanks must go to Mr. Drummer Man for making the show that much more interesting from our perspective.

Finally, I want to thank Tyler for spending such a great evening on the town with me. Let's go again soon! :)

Dreaming, Plotting, Planning...

I have ALWAYS wanted to go to England. That's right, England. For years, I have harbored a dear ambition to visit the land of Stonehenge, the birthplace of my literary heroes: Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and Thomas Hardy.


Don't get me wrong, I love being an American. However, if I could find the means to do so, I would gladly move my family to England and live there. I would like nothing more than to own a house in the British countryside, where I could spend my days writing while my kids grow up learning to speak with British accents.

I'm not alone in this wish. My dear husband would pack things up and our little family would be flying across the pond tomorrow if it was possible. He has different interests than I do, though. He is a history buff. Big time. One of his primary interests? The British Monarchy. He can tell you just about anything you want to know on monarchs ranging from Alfred the Great to William the Conqueror to Queen Elizabeth II. He would spend much of his time in England studying everything he could get his hands on regarding Britain's royal line.


Mark my words, my husband and I will be taking this trip someday. We will be visiting the land of Big Ben, the Thames, and Harry Potter. When? I have no idea. A cross-Atlantic trip isn't really feasible for two full-time students/parents of two. (However, if anyone out there has a few thousand dollars/pounds/Euro just lying around that they would like to donate towards two round trip plane tickets to England, just let me know.)

Until then, I'll just keep on plotting this glorious vacation...ahhh happy day...

(PS: If anyone is interested, my husband's writings on history and other subjects can be found on his blog: www.RivitedHistory.com)

Men: Embrace Your Baldness!!!

A number of years ago, I went out to dinner with my family. (I mean my husband, my parents, one or two of my siblings, and my uncle) Imagine us, all gathered around one of those circular corner booths, chatting away pleasantly. My uncle had just returned from a long stint of working as an entertainer on a cruise ship, and we were enjoying the chance to catch up with him.

Somehow, the conversation turned to Donald Trump and his extraordinary comb-over. My uncle then chimed in with a story from his time on the cruise ship, talking about one of the passengers he encountered. Apparently, this man was entirely bald on top, but the rest of his hair was really long. This man apparently used bobby pins to sculpt what was left of his hair into a swirling hair-beanie on the top of his shiny, bald head. Yikes, right?


This, of course, started an extensive conversation about comb-overs in general. The basic gist of the conversation was that they are utterly ridiculous. If a man is bald, he should embrace it. To me, at least, even the shiniest bald head says: "This guy is bald" but then my mind quickly moves on to something else. A comb-over on the other hand screams "BALD AND SELF-CONSCIOUS!!!"

Anyway, while this conversation is going on, I look over at my mom (she was sitting across the table from me and my uncle). Her face is bright red and she's gesturing, subtly but urgently in an attempt to get our attention. No one caught on quickly enough though, and the conversation ran its course. The bill came, and we all stood up to leave. That's when we noticed what Mom had been so desperately trying to tell us about.

Sitting in the booth right next to ours, in a position that would have allowed him to hear every word of our conversation, was a man with one of those REALLY bad comb-overs. I'm talking about the kind where the combed-over hair didn't completely reach the other side of his bald "patch" (and by "patch," I of course mean an entire barren wilderness). As we abashedly walk past him and his wife, we hear her say: "They think they're funny, don't they?"


Very embarrassing, but hey, maybe we did that guy a favor in the end. Comb-overs are one of the worst decisions any balding man can make. Unless he plans to have surgery to replace his hair, he needs to accept that it's gone. Cut what's left of that stuff into a style that suits you. Buzz it, trim it, or go the whole hog and pull out the Bic razors. Anything but a comb-over!

Warning: The Following Post Contains a LOT of Whining...

So…I think I need an intervention.



I am currently working on my Generals for an Associate’s degree, after which I plan to move on to my Bachelor’s. That’s a very natural progression, right? Nope, apparently not for me.

Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled to be going to college. However, here's the frustrating part: I am still undecided on my major. That's right. It took me a very long time to finally settle on my current course of study. I felt really good about it for a while, and now I’m waffling again! Seriously? I am 28 years old, am I really that indecisive? Yes. Yes I am.

Allow me to take you on a journey through the many different avenues that I have considered travelling during my time back in college:

--English, with an emphasis in professional and technical writing (Declared, then changed)
--Nursing, (Never officially declared, mainly because I HATE needles and because I took a chemistry class and remembered that I suck at, and therefore despise science classes)
--Respiratory Therapy (Never declared, just a desperate, fleeting idea)
--Radiology (Never declared, another fleeting idea)
--Psychology (My original, intended major right out of high school 10 years ago—I wanted to go on through my Doctorate and become a psychiatrist. This option is still not entirely off the table in my mind.)
--English (Because it would be the easiest, most comfortable course of action for me. English is my mind's mother ship.)
--Journalism (My current, declared major)

These are just the highlights of course. The mess and chaos that has been my disconnected train of thought on this matter has been dizzying.

And now, I’m seriously considering changing my mind AGAIN to pursue a BIS degree (Bachelor of Integrated Studies). This is a degree in which a student chooses 3 areas of emphasis, bringing them all together into one integrated degree. Sounds perfect, right?

To an indecisive person like me, not having to choose between my 3 favorite subjects and then finding a way to bring them together is a very attractive option. I would probably have declared this major instead of Journalism had I known it existed before now. This way, I can study three subjects: Psychology, English, and Communications. When I decide to go on to graduate school, I’ll have more options before me. (And then I can start this whole ridiculous process all over again!)

However, I am still undecided. Yeah, I know it's ludicrous.



So, where’s my intervention? Where is that Magic 8 ball that I can get a straight answer out of? I need someone to grab my face, stare me right in the eyes, point to a clear path and say: “Do this, you freaking lunatic!” Anyone want to take a crack at that? I’m all ears!

Brace Yourself...

I posted this rant several months ago, before most of you read my blog. Now you all get to endure its awesomeness again, because I'm still pissed off at the morons at Kit Kat's advertising department. Pull it together Kit Kat!!!
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Okay, I started a little rant about this on facebook, but that tiny status update wasn't very satisfying so...here we go.

I am sick and tired of commercials where I am forced to listen to the nauseating sounds of people eating. The most prominent culprits on the radar right now: Kit Kat, Light & Fit, and Dairy Queen.



I remember Kit Kat's commercials from the 90's. Happy people running around, singing that "Gimme a break" song. That wasn't annoying, in fact it's one of the most memorable candy bar jingles ever. Now, some schmuck at their advertising firm thought: "Hey I know what we can do, let's take our famous jingle and use the sounds of people chewing and smacking their lips as instruments." Morons! All this commercial makes me want to do is change the channel, hit the fast forward button on the DVR, or mute the sound altogether. Because of this stupid commercial, I cringe every time I look at a Kit Kat bar. Gimme a break, people! Seriously!



The Light & Fit commercial is just as bad, and less clever. It shows two women sitting in a room. Apparently, they're strangers to each other. One of them is humming and slurping on a cup of prominently displayed Light & Fit yogurt, like a freaking toddler--no, toddlers are more sophisticated--it's more like a St. Bernard. The other woman looks over and expresses her surprise at the number of calories in the yogurt. I don't care that that cup of yogurt supposedly has less calories than any other, all I can think about is how annoying that woman/St. Bernard is. No thanks, Light & Fit.



Dairy Queen is also doing something stupid with their advertising these days. Now, I've enjoyed a Blizzard or two in my lifetime, but these commercials have ruined them for me. There's some crazy family that's driving around, tailgating a Blizzard truck. Most of the commercials haven't been too bad, until now. Just tonight I was exposed to one of the most disgusting displays I've seen in quite a while. Apparently, this insane family has parked their van to sleep for the night. For whatever reason, their teenage kids are able to fall asleep with frozen dairy treats in their hands, so the parents lean their seats back and start eating their kids' Blizzards. Not only am I forced to listen to them smacking and slurping on the ice cream, they're also talking with their mouths full. Really? This is supposed to make me want to go out and buy a Blizzard? What are these people on, anyway?

What can I say? I am appalled. Am I the only one, though? It it just me that gets so annoyed by these commercials that I refuse to even entertain the idea of wasting money on the products they advertise? Maybe I'm just stubborn, but I've got to stick it to the man somehow, right?

Found One!

As promised, I have been on the lookout for any signs that I found entertaining and lo and behold, I came across a new one over the weekend.

Just the other day, (Saturday) my family and I were driving home from a visit at Tyler's parents' house. During the drive, I looked up and saw a billboard that made me laugh. It was just so unexpected. Imagine what it was like for an unsuspecting passenger like me to look up and see these blaring white letters:



I'm just saying, how many people went home after seeing that and looked up the answer? I wonder if there was anyone who was thinking that very question to themselves and saw this billboard as an act of providence. If so, I'm glad that those good people were able to find some answers. Thank you billboards. Your wisdom is never-ending.