Truths

• No matter where I am or what I am doing, I automatically feel like I'm drunk and it's 3am whenever I hear "Rock Lobster".
  
• One of my favorite things about Asheville: we get snow-capped mountains. I can look out my window at work and see them.
  
• Creepy Emo guy and Jessica Simpson's #1 Hanger-on had their baby. His middle name is Mowgli. I'm guessing Bagheera and Baloo will be named co-godfathers. They aren't leaving that kid with much of more than the "Bear Necessities" are they? Now I think I'm done with the "Jungle Book" jokes. For now.
  
• I sometimes forget that TV characters are not real people. I get confused because characters like Pamela Anderson are actually real. Well, that's up for discussion.
  
• The latin name for the Pileated Woodpecker is dryocopus pileatus. That was for Leslie.

Weekly Ponderosa

Back to the tidbits kiddies I'm beat!

(1) Tina Fey as Sarah Palin was clutch...it really is creepy the similarities. Why do only the comedy shows have the wherewithal to call out the BS? Why are the Daily Show/Colbert Report/SNL the shows that actually go, "Hey, you guys realize this is all spin and absolute crap, right?" No wonder we are getting more cynical. PS I looked up what a flerg was...just go to Urban Dictionary. It fits.



(2) Thank you Drew Brees for absolutely killing my fantasy standings this week. Of course the team I was playing in that league was comprised of many of my players from my other league, so I knew I'd probably win one and lose won, which I did. And in real life Brees was playing my Redskins, so sorta glad he sucked.

(3) Leave for VA on Wednesday right after work for a wedding (surprise! A wedding!) Another bonsai trip with another huge one sitting on the horizon. I love to travel but it truly does exhaust me.

(4) I watched "Snatch" again on Saturday night. I love that movie. It is such a guy film but also is so funny.

(5) Jonathan and I were speaking vaguely about our personal long-term plans last week and it made me realize how few of them I actually have. I made a whole bunch after college but they blew up in my face so fantastically that I haven't made many since then. I need to get over that and start thinking about what I actually want. Cuz I have no idea.

(6) There is a prank war happening at work. And it gets better and better. I love my coworkers and essentially disdain my job, but I guess it is the people that make the experience.

Dodge These Bullets

• With the addition of the queen sized bed (thank you Leslie) I bought two new pillows. In other news, I'm still domesticated and mildly boring.

• Our Quizzo team finally won a pitcher for the best team name. This only took 7 months. And before you ask, yes, yes I do have friends. That I don't pay. Much.

• What ever happened to that cute girl from “Northern Exposure” with the mole and who could do that eye brow lift thing? The one opposite Aidan (I'm sorry even 5 years before “Sex and the City” John Corbett was Aidan. He still is. Always will be. That Aidan gets around) up in Alaska? Where the heck has she gone?

• Riding high on the lazy river-like tsunami of confidence from the McSweeney's print, Easter afternoon I got to seriously delve into some writings and I actually finished a short story. “Story” is a loose description, it's really a very stylized monologue from an old woman living on the coast in Maine. I like it, but I'm the only person who has ever read it. Time will tell whether it is any good or just adjective-heavy word vomit. Sometimes I feel like a Chimp playing with his own poop. Some may call it art, others call it “Hey, that monkey is playing with his poop,” while the monkey is thinking, “Wheeee!”. How's that for an artist's statement of purpose.

• Lately I've been stuck on the song “Sons and Daughters” by the Decemberists. I've had this song for over a year, but it's got new life. I heart Colin Meloy. He go wit his nerd self. Only person I know that can use words like “dirigible”, “Legionnaire”, “indolent” and “colonnade” in songs and still sound earnest.

• Friday night I had a very vivid dream that I was thrown into running a trail race that I hadn't trained for. In the dream it was a 7 mile race and I was three miles in and breathing hard. That's when I woke up having an asthma attack. I don't know if the attack spawned the dream or vice versa, but while I wasn't breathing I marveled at my subconscious' imagination. If I'm ever not breathing ask me where my inhaler is and I'll try to tell you. Or just yell “Does anyone have an albuterol inhaler!?” and maybe someone will throw one at you.

• Murphy and Romano: two days. Bad Idea Girls take on the Dirty South. Look for highlights. There will be many I'm sure.

• I got an email from Nat the other detailing how her drive back to her house was interrupted by a cow giving birth on her road. It got out of the fence and was giving birth, right there in the road. That is the part of my hometown that I truly miss. That sort of thing isn't exactly abnormal and part of some of my most fond memories. Being stuck behind cows was a normal excuse for being late to school.

• I don't think I've loved my family more than I do right now. After the McSweeney's thing, I got a voicemail from my mom that said, “It's mom, I just wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you and I'm proud of you. I love you, bye bye.” I cried a little bit, saved the message and now look forward to having it come up every few weeks. This message is a miracle. A true, heaven sent, blind man can see, deaf man can hear sort of miracle. I am so thankful for it.

• So the question about the obligation of citizenship that you all did a fine job of not answering is becoming an essay on its own. And if its any good and it goes anywhere, I'll make a point to not reference you. No no don't feel like you need to thank me. I know I'm gracious.

• Still don't get the obsession over fancy handbags. Don't get it. It must be how gay men feel about women. Sure they are nice and all but nope, not feeling anything either way.

Notes on a Monday

* So I actually had Sunday off this week, which I shockingly discovered, so does most of the working world. Like I got to see people...when it was still light out.
* Apparently my church moved. They did not ask permission. For this reason I will continue to not give them any money.
* I've been really absent-minded lately. Today I put shampoo on my loofah and didn't realize I hadn't been washing my hair till I was already done.
* Poor Prince Harry. Why couldn't we just leave him alone in desert? He was doing great--no ladies, booze, Hitler costumes or having to suffer from not being as hot as his brother, just shooting up stuff and walking around--and what did the media do? Point him out like he's Waldo and now he has to take his gun and go back to his castle. Wait, did I just say I felt sorry for a royal? For suffering? I'm sorry I must be high.
* You know what movie was surprisingly good but it took me forever to watch it cuz I didn't think I'd like it? No, not "Gigli". That was as bad as expected. It was "The Departed." There is no part of me that wants to like Leonardo DiCaprio but he is a good actor...dammit. Liking Leo is like me and gaucho pants: other people love 'em but I can't help but feel like I beat up a clown and stole his pants. I can see their perks but they don't work for me. K kind of a bad analogy but I'm still recovering from washing my body with some TRESemme shampoo. Cut me some slack.
* Five of us went out for Leslie's birthday on Saturday night for some tappas and my 3rd visit to the French Broad Chocolate Lounge in a week. I don't even like sweets that much but I can't stop going. That was the most fun night in recent memory. And I didn't even lose my pants (note: I haven't actually, literally lost my pants in about 8 years. That was a quick learning curve.)
* Here is my second favorite blog of recent: Jessi Klein's NotBlog. I kind of want to be her friend.
* I recently heard myself on video. I have to decided to cease all talking forever. I sound like a smartass mouse.
* Currently I have the emotional capacity of a grapefruit. Not the size of a grapefruit, but the actual emotional capacity of one. Like if you were to stare longingly at a grapefruit and then expect reciprocation, that's what I'm like currently in the emotional sector. But less curvy. And not as full of vitamin C. Or from Florida.
* Hey guess what! I still want to be a writer. And I'm still scared of it. Soo...nothing is different.
* That's it, I'm swearing off boys for the rest of the afternoon.

More in the List Department

#1: On Saturday, French Broad Chocolate Company had the soft opening of their new Chocolate Lounge, located very close to the corner of Lexington and Patton, around the corner from Salsa's. GO TO THIS CHOCOLATE LOUNGE. It may have changed my life for the better, and I don't even like chocolate that much. Literally the best chocolates I have ever tasted. Like the world disappeared and I was overwhelmed with flavors and ideas. Godiva is like drinking Boone's Farm and this is the best wine you can imagine. And they serve beer and wine, and a Pisgah Porter does wonders for some seriously good dark chocolate truffles. Plus, my friend Katherine's artwork is featured throughout the lounge. It's gorgeous. So go. Afterward we went over to my friend Ian and Tammy's and sat around in their hot tub drinking bourbon. It was as awesome as it sounds.

#2 From Asheville, plane tickets to Flagstaff cost the same or more than they do to fly to London. Go figure.

#3 I got into a conversation with my mom the other day about kids with parents that are split, and I felt like I got to say a lot of things to her that I needed to say and never could figure out how to say. For someone who has been married and divorced several times, she has no idea what it does to kids. Or how long the effect lasts.

#4 The Giants represented the NFC East well last night, and for that I'll no longer make fun of Eli Manning for looking like he's 13. I'll say he's 15. Also: I expected the Super Bowl to be a "if you drink every time a Peyton Manning commercial comes on you'll be hammered by the two minute warning of the first half" but alas, no Peyton commercials. Or should I say thankfully there weren't. But how great was Tom Petty? I mean really, the person who thought of that: kisses, pies and a raise! Looks like a child molester, sings like a child molester, but still manages to be fairly awesome. Well done, Petty. You keep runnin' down that dream.

#5 I'm in a lull. Don't feel I got too much goin' on.

Forever in Blue Jeans

The “Choose Cheesy” mix is a little over a year old (Thank you to Erin Hatcher for inspiring the mix and then saying, “Yeah you say these songs are cheesy...I don't. I say AMAZING.”) and I have to say, it has only gotten better with time (and it's expanded). It is a uniter, and I have yet to find a song that is more fun to sing loudly (with dramatic hand motions) while driving alone as “The Greatest Love of All” by Whitney “Crack is Whack” Houston. I mean really...it is so much fun it should be banned. I've given out multiple copies of the “Choose Cheesy” mix because it works so well in so many situations. I decided if I ever get married several of the songs from the Choose Cheesy mix will be incorporated into the reception playlist for three reasons:

1. Sheer Awesomeness.

2. Getting everyone onto the dance floor to sing them loudly. Like Romano and I will most certainly do our duet version of “Don't Go Breakin' My Heart”, and pretty much everyone I have ever known EVER will be out there to sing “Eternal Flame” and “I Think We're Alone Now” complete with dramatic hand motions, as most Cheesy songs dictate (And “Nothin's Gonna Stop Us Now” will be a solo performance by Liz)

3. Because when people all end up out on a dance floor, drinking and singing loudly, it breaks down barriers, creates strong memories and unites a group and I want a wedding that is a community event, not little separate groups. Music can be a very powerful tool, even if it is “Glory of Love” that is doing it. And dammit it's my fictional wedding, I plan to lose my voice from singing and pull all sorts of muscles dancing...not that kind of dancing you dirty dirty person.

All that to say: Cheesy songs have a great worth in uniting by agreement; pretty much everyone can say “Karma Chameleon” is cheesy, but that fact makes singing it all the more silly and fun. Actually knowing the words to the song is both an admission and a call to community. See? Now you can say knowing all the words to “Time After Time” has a higher altruistic purpose. Look at you, community builder. Hey, if you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting.

(sidebar: Ever notice that Jennifer Warnes sang both “Up Where We Belong” and “I've Had the Time of My Life”? How did this woman get on two of the most amazing cheesy songs of the 80s? Who is she? Does Jennifer Warnes have a superhero power of “Cheesy Yet Iconic Motion Picture Soundtrack Duets”? I wonder if in the 90s she embarked on a solo career and changed her name to Celine Dion in order to sing “My Heart Will Go On”. Probably.)

Title IX

Way back in November my dear friend Emilie (unintentionally) began a discussion that kind of evolved into one on women in music. It started with a comment about being disappointed in what came out of the artists of Lilith Fair since the tour ended, and concluded on the status of women in music today.
(now pause that thought)
This evening I saw the headline that Mia Hamm and Julie Foudy had been elected into the US Soccer Hall of Fame in their first year of eligibility. Of course Hamm now holds the record for highest number of votes cast and highest winning percentage, of which she is completely deserving. Anyway, reading the highlights of their monumental careers suddenly got me thinking about that discussion about music months ago. And not just because Emilie is a kick ass athlete with tons of heart, skill and guts (I first accidentally wrote asslete. I almost left it). There was something special about that time.
In hindsight, the late 90s were a good time to be a young woman. We had role models in places where none were a few years prior. Role models make doors in sheer cement walls. I think about the rise of Lilith Fair, the famous Women's World Cup where Brandi Chastain ripped off her jersey after winning the shootout in front of 90,000 fans...hell, even the Ya-Ya Sisterhood came out in those same few years. We had the first woman to play NCAA Divison I football kick a field goal, for cryin' out loud. If that wasn't empowering...
And then there was Claire Danes! Who didn't want to be Claire Danes!?

What saddens me is that the wave of role models hasn't really been followed by anything else. Lilith lead to, what? The Spice Girls? Britney? Avril? Hells no. What do we have that could ever compare or continue? Truly the only musician with the appeal and chops to even consider such an endeavor would be Norah Jones, who just doesn't inspire an all-day concert tour event. Maybe some chai tea in a overstuffed chair, yes, but not outdoor pavilion music.

Will we ever have a female asslete (giggle) whose influence could ever touch the width and breadth of Mia Hamm's? Venus and Serena Williams have appeal, but not at all in the same way. They are too Hollywood. And they play tennis. La de friggin' da.

I want there to be women for my nieces and my little sister to see who prove that the world is possible. Not just because you show off your body, or are a whore, or because you are beautiful. Do ya'll know of anyone I'm missing here? Role Models of that caliber?