The weekend is almost here and...
I rather feel like expressing myself now. And I could certainly use the release!
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A public declaration of principle, policy and intention of a royal, twenty-something personality.
I rather feel like expressing myself now. And I could certainly use the release!
Here I go again, making a "spectacle" of myself with my new glasses...
The first pair is my fun, chichi pair. You can't tell because of the lighting, but they're kind of a shiny, bronzy color. Lana will take credit for picking these out, and I must say, she has fabulous taste.
The second pair is my everyday pair. Again with the poor lighting, but they're a chocolatey-brown color with silver Chanel C's on the sides.
Lastly, we have my third pair, in classic black. I love the dotted-quilted accents and the shiny Chanel C's on the sides.
The Queen MAB summer concert series has been extended, adding fall tour dates. Nickel Creek was the seventh stop, at the "rock-n-roll house of worship," the Ryman Auditorium.
The inclement weather didn't deter Mandy, Brad, Lisa, Miller, Mason, Lori, Amanda and myself from hopping over to the East side of Nashville, for some pre-concert sustenance at Beyond the Edge.
Nickel Creek recently announced they are taking an "indefinite break" from recording together and touring as a group, so I had been looking forward to this show for awhile. Overall, the concert was superb, yet a little more mellow than I prefer. Lisa, Jamey and I saw them last year at the War Memorial with the Ditty Bops, and the band rocked out, tearing off into upbeat bluegrass rifts. Funny thing is, the Ryman is a better venue for acoustics than the War Memorial, but I don't feel like the band took full advantage.
Some memorable moments of the evening:
It has begun. My favorite season of the year has commenced. Some may bloom in the spring, but my senses come alive in the fall.
See
Hear
Smell
Taste
Feel
Just like that pinecone that rolled up to my doormat yesterday, I welcome you, autumn.
Last weekend, Lana and I became privy to a fascinating nugget of information, presented to us by an unlikely source.
On Saturday afternoon, we made a jaunt over to the Mall at Green Hills, for a browse at the Sephora to find Lana a new bronzer, followed by a three-hour excursion at Lens Crafters, in an effort to spend a large chunk of my medical reimbursement from work.
We entered the store and began trying on the rows and rows of glasses. I guess we must have been animated and laughing sort of loudly, because I look over, and there's a young gentleman watching us and smiling. I realize he is a store employee, and I kind of wave him over for help. He comments about how much fun Lana and I are having and that he wants to join in.
As we are trying on different glasses, Lana hands me a pair that I don't like. I comment aloud that they look too futuristic, like those headband sunglasses that used to come in Wendy's kids meals. Marcus, as the store employee is called, looks at me funny and says, "wait, how do you remember those sunglasses? How old are you?" When I tell him that I'm 25, his mouth falls open and he looks at Lana and asks the same question. He's dumbfounded and tells us that he we looked a lot younger. Of course, Lana and I are both thrilled by this.
Throughout the course of three hours, Lana and I get to know Marcus intimately. He becomes "one of the gals," and shows us photos of his three children, ex-wife, and current boyfriend. Marcus practically falls in love with Lana and I, and he asks us if we have boyfriends. Lana and I look at each other in disgust and mumble "no." Lana chimes in that there aren't any good guys in Nashville, and Marcus retorts that there are, but they're all at the gay bar.
Lana laments that she just doesn't understand why she and all of her fabulous girlfriends are single and Marcus attempts to shed some light. He looks at Lana and I and says, "you both are very pretty girls and you look all cute with your makeup and earrings. Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm afraid that guys might think ya'll are too high maintenance."
Lana and I turn to each other in shock, and exclaim, "we aren't high maintenance," and "we can't help it if we look cute," and "we're guy-girls and we like sports and boy stuff too." Marcus nods in agreement, but says, "guys really just want girls who aren't going to give them any problems or challenge them. It's like the song goes, 'Get an Ugly Girl to Marry You.'" Lana and I burst out laughing and Marcus begins to sing the song.
I just consumed the best nectarine of my life. Or maybe it wasn't the best nectarine of my life, but a combination of hunger for something sweet and the absence of a pint of ice cream in my freezer, that leads me to make such a proclamation.
Normally, the fruit I purchase at the grocery store doesn't ever make it into my belly. I'll spend careful amounts of time selecting the perfect piece of fruit, void of bruises, dents and other imperfections. Once home, the fruit is placed in the fridge, a.k.a. "the place fruit goes to die."
I simply forget it's there. Or I'll remember it's there and then I go to eat it and it's not ripe enough, therefore allowing it to linger a few days more in the fridge, only to rediscover an uninticing, fuzzy growth that has overtaken the fruit.
But this time it was different...
I purchased four nectarines at the Publix, when I went grocery shopping with Lana, two Sunday's ago. I had eaten three of them, as of last Friday afternoon. But my attempts to eat the fourth, and final nectarine, had previously been thwarted, as the little bugger wouldn't ripen. It's almost as if it knew it's destiny, to become a simple sugar in my digestive system.
Truth is, I had forgotten about that nectarine. Until tonight.
I literally yelped with joy when I realized what the wadded up paper bag contained, hiding in the back of my fridge. And I actually talked to it, while I rinsed it and cut it into perfect, juicy slices. (That's what happens when you live alone---you talk to your fruit).
The rest is comestible history.
It's been an eventful week, therefore, I have more thoughts to share with you. Unfortunately, due to rising fuel costs, economic inflation and my current impoverished state, I've had to increase the charge for sharing my thoughts, to a quarter. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause, but I can assure you, my thoughts are worth the money.
I'm ready if you are.
Thought # 1
The Aspen Bungalow has been overtaken by uninvited guests. You might call them ants, but I like to refer to them as "the-little-bastards-that-won't-go-away-despite-my-attempts-to-end-their-diminutive-lives-with-devious-traps-and-potent-poisonous-spray-solutions."
I have searched and searched my kitchen over, for any evidence of sticky, sugary goo, or crumbles of long-forgotten food hiding in the depths of linoleum and formica, that may be enticing these vermin into my personal sanctuary. Truth is, I'm a clean person. I don't say that with a cavalier attitude, either. I may even be bold enough to say that I'm the cleanest, neatest, tidiest person that any of you have ever met, and it's a borderline obsessive-compulsive condition. I abhor dirt, germs and all things filth. I am the poster-child for Purell.
So, why am I infested with ants? And even more puzzling, why can't I get them to just leave my pristine abode alone?
Thought #2
Yesterday morning, I attended the CWJC Fall Semester Kickoff, with the lady I mentor, Gladys. Gladys and I are in engaging in a group discussion with a couple of other ladies in the program, when one the ladies interrupts, looks directly at me, and says, "Hey---has anyone ever told you that you look like Mariah Carey?" Upon hearing this, I burst out laughing, and then realized she was serious. Now, I have never, ever in my lifetime, been told that I look like Mariah, therefore I found her observation a little odd.
I got to work later that afternoon, and relayed the incident to my officemate and another co-worker. Immediately as I said "Mariah Carey," both of them broke out in simultaneous choruses of agreement. Again, I am shocked by the response.
But surely I don't really look like Mariah Carey. I, once again, told the story to Lana and Sarah last night, and was met with the same, enthusiastic response: "Wow, you really do look like Mariah Carey!"
I don't see it and I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended. Afterall, at one point in time, Mariah was a pretty girl who took care of herself and could be labeled as classy. But all of this is a moot point, thanks to incidences such as Glitter, the breakdown, and her general ho-ing around town.
Thought #3
Recently, Daily Candy sent me a link to a fantasy celebrity league, called Fafarrazi. Basically, it's like fantasy sports, except you draft celebrities and you receive points based on catfights, plastic surgeries, hookups, breakups and other public spectacles. It's kind of a sick sport, and I'm looking forward to being a part of it. I plan to create a league soon, and am extending an invitation for you to join in the fun. Email me if you're a taker!
Thought #4
The Cubmobile needs an oil change really badly, but I'm afraid to take her on down to the Firestone. Every time I go in there, they tell me that something is wrong with my car. Your first inclination might be to say, "they're a bunch of money-hungry crooks that are taking advantage of a clueless gal," but I trust them for the most part. Their diagnoses have been correct the past several times they've checked out the car (after receiving second opinions and the gold standard opinion on cars, Daddy Brown). Plus, my car isn't getting any younger.
Anyway, she needs an oil change, and I fear, a whole lot more. I am soooooo broke-phi-broke.
Thank you, and come again soon!
I have several thoughts that I'd like to share with you today.
Thought #1
I battle allergies on a daily basis. I'm allergic to a variety of plant-pollens, dust and mold spores. My allergies have also been known to inflame on days where the air quality is poor. Amidst discussions with friends about our shared allergies, I've often mentioned how I can tell the air quality is suffering based on my allergic reactions on a daily basis. I won't name any names, but there is one particular friend o' mine that consistently mocks me when I mention the air quality.
This friend of mine---we'll call her Adnama---thinks the whole "air quality thing" is preposterous, nothing more than a sham. In case others of you are as uninformed as she, let me provide for you a little tutorial, compliments of AirNow:
Every morning, I watch Good Morning America. Among the news segments, the News Channel 2 staff provides local news updates, weather forecasts, traffic advisories, pollen counts, and yes, air quality alerts. See, I fall in the category of "sensitive groups," meaning that an AQI of 101 to 150 (symbolized by the color orange), is unhealthy for me and causes an allergic reaction, resulting in headaches, nasal congestion and fatigue.
Perhaps Adnama will be satisfied with this explanation. If not, she's just "bastard people."
Thought #2
Sometime this weekend, I replaced my old license plate with a new license plate, recently issued by the state of Tennessee. I was not overwhelmingly in love with my previous plate, but I found the design to be simple and aesthetically pleasing enough. It was mediocre at best. However, I strongly dislike the new Tennessee license plate design. It's not only faded and boring, but also displays outdated font. It's a major step down from the last plate. And worst of all, the new plate showcases nothing indicative of Tennessee's rich tradition. Yes, it features Tennessee's rolling hills, but you can barely see them in spite all of the lettering. "Boring, boring, boring, boring, boring..." Why do I care so much??? Because I do, that's why.
Thought #3
Last night, the gals and I spent p.m. at PM Nashville, a Belmont-area hipster-sushi joint. "It's a Zen thing, like how many babies fit in a tire." We looked hot. Here we are for your viewing pleasure.
Amanda, Amy, Lana, MA, Natalie & Sarah
Thought #4
I watched Waiting for Guffman twice this weekend, and laughed heartily both times. I also made reference to the movie several times in this post. "Which brings me to the number 5..."
Thought #5
"There are five letters in the word Blaine. Now, if you mix up the letters in the word Blaine, mix 'em around, eventually, you'll come up with Nebali."
Beginning today, Derek Webb, former frontman of Caedmon's Call, is releasing his 2005 album, Mockingbird, for free download at FreeDerekWebb.com.
Derek's writing is thought-provoking and a call to action, touching on subjects including politics, social justice and war. Derek has stated that he tackled these subjects to stimulate discussion and engage people to bring about changes in what he sees as some of the greatest problems the world is facing today. Derek also writes about the dysfunctional relationship between legalism and a relationship with Christ, and how society views the "modern church."
So often, we get caught up in the legalism of society and the church, and we forget what it's really all about: Christ's unconditional, unwaivering, all-encompassing love. Freedom from the law does not mean freedom from responsibility, but it does mean that a blameless man sacrificed his own life so that you and I may live peacefully and abundantly.
In turn for the FREE album download, Derek suggests you make a $10 contribution to one of three featured nonprofits, Blood:Water Mission, International Justice Mission, and Mocha Club.
Read Derek's explanation of the promotion below:
i love music. i have grown up with music as a close confidant. and i believe in the power of music to move people. there's something remarkable about the way a melody can soften someone to a new idea.
as an artist (and often an agitator), this is something i am keenly aware of. my most recent record 'mockingbird' deals with many sensitive issues including poverty, war, and the basic ethics by which we live and deal with others. but i found that music has been an exceptional means by which to get this potentially difficult conversation going. and this is certainly an important moment for dialogue amongst people who disagree about how to best love and take care of people, to get into the nuances of the issues.
one of the things that excites me most about the future of our business is how easy it is becoming to deliver music to people who want to hear it. i heard a story once about keith green caring so much that people were able to hear and engage with his music that he gave it away for free, which was a very difficult and expensive thing to do at that time. it's actually never been as simple as it is today to connect music with music fans. and i want people to have a chance to listen to mockingbird and engage in the conversation.
so this is why, on september 1st, we're launching freederekwebb.com, a place where anyone can go online and not just hear but actually download, keep, and share 'mockingbird' completely for free. In addition, freederekwebb.com will give you an opportunity to invite your friends to download 'mockingbird' in order to get them in on the conversation as well.
we hope this bold campaign will provide a jumping off point for conversations about all of these issues, and communicate my commitment to playing my part in starting them. so please help us spread the word: on september 1st, 'mockingbird' will be set free!
derek webb
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