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Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Vitamin D

Today is a better day. I had lunch with Mandy and Siebe on the outdoor patio of Long Shot's, the new restaurant on Music Row. My seat faced direct, bright sunlight, and it felt good to soak it up in the warm, pre-spring weather. I absorbed some much needed Vitamin D. I've got the first sprinkling of freckles on my face, and a bit of color on my cheeks. I feel better today.

1 Do not fret because of evil men
or be envious of those who do wrong;

2 for like the grass they will soon wither,
like green plants they will soon die away.

3 Trust in the LORD and do good;
dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture.

4 Delight yourself in the LORD
and he will give you the desires of your heart.

5 Commit your way to the LORD;
trust in him and he will do this:

6 He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.

Psalm 37: 1-6

Monday, February 26, 2007

Don't forget to bring a towel!

My tummy hurts. I think it's because I'm lonely. Not pathetic. Just lonely. I have a hard time admitting loneliness. My heart views it as a weakness, and I'm too proud to show it. I'm about to curl up with a cup of tea and sympathy, and have a good cry.

I did smile tonight though. Someone sent me something that meant a lot to me. I didn't think this person remembered, but they did. I hope this person knows who they are, because their gesture was the highlight of my day. Thanks Towelie.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

The Joys of Apartment Living

Last night, I'm scrunched up on the couch watching a bunch of tooley guys attempt to sing well on American Idol, when I hear a loud and intrusive bang outside in the breezeway. The stairwell runs up and down the outside wall of my living room, and the noise sounded like someone fell down the steps, or was possibly pushed? I paused, but didn't think much of it. The occurrence of such noises are not unheard of when you live in an apartment.

A minute more, I hear angry voices, and they're growing louder. I hear something bang up against my own door. By this time, I've muted the television (not that I missed much with the poor sampling of AI talent), and I hear a woman's voice start yelling choice expletives at someone else, echoing through the breezeway.

Drama. I get up and walk to my door, and peer out the peephole. I see a man and a woman, both in their late 50s/early 60s, well dressed, screaming at each other. The woman appears to be really out of control and erratic, almost like she's sloppy drunk. The man is holding her back with force, keeping her away from the door opposite mine in the breezeway.

I'm watching all of this through the peephole in amazement. I've lived in the Aspen Bungalow for over three years now, and nothing like this has ever happened. The woman breaks free from the man and proceeds to bang hard against my neighbor's door. Very loudly. I hear more screaming and yelling, and more expletives, but at this point, I'm already on the phone with 911.

I've never called 911 before, and I wasn't terribly impressed with their accuracy and speed in processing my call. First of all, it rang several times before anyone picked up. Once I told the operator where I was and what was going on, he asked me to repeat it all a second time. Then, the phone sounded like it went out for a minute, and I said "hello?" and, the operator said that he was transferring me to the local system. I got another operator and I had to repeat the whole thing another time. Finally, I was told that someone was on the way. It wasn't a very efficient process and I'm really glad I wasn't laid out on my kitchen floor or something.

Anyway--- during the entire five minute 911 phone call, the screaming, yelling, and banging is still going on. I have no idea where this is coming from, as I don't know my across the hall neighbors. They've lived there for at least six months, but I've never once laid eyes on them.

I sit back down on the couch and quietly wait. A few minutes later, I hear a knock on my door, and I'm up like lightning. The peephole doesn't allow me to see who it is, so I ask who it is, and I hear "Franklin Police" on the other side. I open the door, and he asks if everything is okay, and I explain that it's not my apartment, but the apartment across from me, as I point to the opposite door. Way to go with the details, 911.

I close the door as he turns to the opposite door and knocks. I'm watching through the peephole as a different man and woman open the door, along with another police officer inside. The officer disappears. I'm glued to the peephole, and a few minutes later, the two officers emerge. One disappears toward the parking lot, and the officer that originally knocked on my door knocks again.

He asks to come in, and asks me to tell him what I saw and to describe what the couple looked like. He tells me that it's some kind of "ex-wife drama." In the meantime, the other officer comes into my apartment and says that she didn't see anybody out in the parking lot. We talk a few minutes more. Bastard Cat Jack is rolling and wallering around in the middle of the floor, and the police officers began to crack jokes about him. I thank them for coming so quickly, and then they exit.

My night picks up much where it started. I finish out the last half-hour of American Idol, with a yawn, and then I'm off to bed.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Ace Yum

American Idol is missing an Ace Young this year. I am missing Ace Young this year.

V-O-V. He's hot. Pardon me while I wipe the drool off my chin.

Friday, February 16, 2007

For the Love

No doubt by now, many of you have heard the news that Live Nation dropped their 2007 summer concert series and announced recently that Starwood Ampitheatre, Nashville's only outdoor venue, is being sold to a "non-entertainment industry" developer. Our beloved venue will likely be bulldozed for a grocery store or condo development.

Does this upset anyone else as much as it does me? If you are one of the Queen MAB Faithful, and you followed the 2006 Queen MAB Concert Series, you'd know that I spent many warm (and some chilly) nights on the Starwood grass hill, and even bebopping against the security fence at the front of the stage. I can't imagine what Nashville looks like without an outdoor venue, and I certainly can't imagine relocating the regular outdoor acts that come to Nashville each year to the vapid and hollow GEC.

If Starwood closes, it will join the souls of defunct Nashville concert venues including 328 Performance Hall, and will put an end to yearly festivals just like other Nashville bygones including Riverstages, Dancin' in the District, The Uptown Mix, and the SoBro Summer Concert Series.

What's happening to Music City???

In a grassroots effort to save Starwood, music lovers around the Nashville and Middle Tennessee area are uniting. If you'd like to be a part of the movement, visit HERE to sign the petition to SAVE STARWOOD.

Visit the SAVE STARWOOD MySpace page for the latest updates.

Visit the Live Nation MySpace page to [kindly] voice your complaints about their decision to close Starwood.

A sorority sister of mine from college, Kim K., is deeply involved in the effort. Visit HERE, and read her inspirational and sentimental blogs about Starwood.

And, for the love of Music City, please go sign the petition.

Get Your Dad.

I know where I'll be this weekend. Anyone want to join me? And by the way, this ain't a joke.

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Note to Self

In honor of Valentine's Day, I wrote a love letter to myself. It's time I took the advice of a wise woman and shelve the self-deprecation for a day or two. Here tis:

Dear Self,

Have you looked in the mirror today and exclaimed aloud how fabulous you are? You look really hot today in those jeans. They make your ass look small and your legs look long. I see that you are wearing your pink Valentine's Day jacket. It's so pretty with your jewelry. Your makeup looks really nice today, too.

I am so proud of you, self. You are a beautiful, intelligent, witty, and strong young woman. I admire your independence and your confidence. Your creativity and thirst to learn will continue to open up new opportunities for you. Don't be so afraid to take a chance on what makes you happy.

Self, you are a loyal friend and you are going to make the BEST wife and mother someday. That Lemon Caper Chicken dinner you cooked last night could have appeared on the menu in a gourmet restaurant. And your care and attention you paid to cutting up the fruit pieces for your dark chocolate fondue for this evening did not go unnoticed.

Have you reminded yourself lately that you are "fearfully and wonderfully made" (
Psalm 139:14)? Do you remember that He engraved you on his palms (Isaiah 49:16) and that you are made in His image (Genesis 1:27)? Self, He has an amazing plan for you (Jeremiah 29:11). Be patient, self.

Self, you rock my face off. Happy Valentine's Day! I love you!


Friday, February 9, 2007

Queen MAB's 100th Post

In honor of my 100th post and the recent one year anniversary of the Queen MAB Manifesto, my new blog layout launched this morning. Isn't it lovely? It was created by the talented Katie of Sparkledesign. The Manifesto will be under construction during the next few days, so bear with me as I do a little bit of remodeling.

Monday, February 5, 2007

Ad Bowl XLI

Was anyone else totally bored by the lackluster Super Bowl commercials last night? It seems like they get worse and worse every year, or they are completely ineffective in enticing me to purchase the products the advertisers are selling. However, there were a few commercials that caught my attention and garnered my appreciation of their creativity.

One of the funniest commercials of the evening wasn't created by a team of advertising and marketing executives (the 21-year-old that created the commercial at least has a marketing degree), yet it was very effective in selling the product. Doritos created a contest called "Crash the Super Bowl" and this commercial was the winning entry. It was one of the few that made me laugh out loud last night. I also have to give it points for incorporating the product numerous times into the ad, highlighting the product's selling points, and creating memorable associations the consumer should have with the product (i.e. crunchy, bold, cheesy, etc.).

It's about time that advertisers pulled their heads out of the sand, and realized that males aren't the only ones watching the Super Bowl. In case you haven't noticed, Super Bowl ad space is largely dominated by beer, viagra, and potato chips. This commercial by Revlon, advertising their new line of color glazes, features Sheryl Crow on the "Not Fade Away" tour while they convince her to use the product. Now while this commercial is not exactly groundbreaking in creativity, it does stand alone amongst all of ads for cars, fast food, and soda. I feel a bit more justified and less ignored knowing that advertisers may finally begin to recognize that women like sports too. It also scored high with me because of the shot of the Briley Parkway interstate sign, a subtle shout-out to Nashville.

Super Bowl commercials aren't limited to consumer goods, and it's always nice to see one or two that resemble public service announcements. The American Heart Association issued a very creative plug for their Beat Your Risk website, in hopes that viewers will begin to take an active interest in their heart health, after all of the Superbowl-appropriate hot wings, queso dip, and taquitos disappear. I loved the "gotham-like, bad guys" theme of this commercial.

One of the most randomly original commercials came from an unlikely soure. It was totally unexpected, and I laughed out loud several times, especially when a reference was made to "save Holland." The message was clear and concise, and was one of the few commercials that triggered a memory of the product at hand.

Another commercial that I found really funny, was from Sprint, advertising their wireless broadband cards. I loved the "Connectile Dysfunction"play on words, and the cheeky parody of all of those uncomfortably embarrassing ED commercials.

Lastly, the NFL bid farewell to the football season with this sentimental tribute to its fans, featuring an ironic twist about no-longer-retiring quarterback, Brett Favre. Some of you may not know this about me, but I'm a closet GB Packers fan, from the days when the Titans didn't exist, and living in the state of Tennessee meant that pro sports were just a pipe dream (hence the reason that I am also a Cubs fan). I think it's hilarious that Favre announces on Feb. 2 that he will return for a 2007 season just 48 hours before this Superbowl ad airs alluding to his retirement. I'll be rootin' for him next season, and I'll pray for a Titans vs. Packers Super Bowl XLII.

Sunday, February 4, 2007

The Girl Who Cried Josh Turner

Today after church, me and my gangle of gal pals, trekked over to the CB for some country-fried love. You may think I'm referring to country-fried love in the form of Cracker Barrel's pecan pancakes, sawmill grits, or even chicken-n-dumplins. But, alas, I'm not. Today, the country-fried love was none other than handsome crooner, Josh Turner.

The six of us (Mandy, Emily, Sarah, Amanda, Amy and myself) are tucked amongst CB kitsch, namely the obscenely large display of dancing Easter bunnies, chirping chickadees, and resin painted eggs that were surely made by some 5-year-old in a Taiwanese sweatshop. A moment later, Mandy gasps and mumbles under her breath that Josh Turner, his wife, and his new baby are hovering in the corner, not ten feet from us. After we all sneak sly (and might I add, lustful) glances in his direction, we ponder ways we can get him to notice us.

Several weeks ago, a bunch of us went to see Josh Turner perform at the GEC, and we got a little nuts in our affections for him. I won't name any names, but many air kisses were exchanged, and some may have even given Josh a little peeksy at their goodies. So, during this Josh sighting today, we began to reminisce of our night out.

"Josh, do you remember me? I'm the one that you blew a kiss to the other night?"

"Josh, remember the girls? They sure do remember you..."

The banter continued to the table. Shortly after we are seated, Natalie arrives. When she is informed of Josh's presence in the lobby of the restaurant, she immediately begins to hyperventilate. Since moving from Texas several months ago, Nat has yet to see a real live Nashville celebrity (except for the Tanya Tucker look-a-like she saw at the airport). After a quick visit to the lobby, Natalie returns star-struck.

Thirty minutes later, we are still talking about Josh Turner and the imaginary conversations we'd have if any of us had the guts to actually approach him and proclaim undying love. Natalie wonders aloud if those in leadership positions receive enough positive feedback, and mentions she'd like to go tell Josh how fabulous he really is. We ask her what she'd say to him, and she says she would write it down first. Amanda lifts up her hand, as if she's written her "crib notes," and begins to read from her hand:

"Hi Josh. I really think you are awe [BREAK]

"some. Would you like to be my fri [BREAK]


We are obviously amused. Someone says, "what if they sat Josh at the table next to us?" We joke a bit about how his hotness would distract us from our cornbread, and I secretly elbow Emily, indicating for her to play along with my little prank. Amanda and Amy are turned away from the main walkway, and Natalie to the side. I gasp aloud, "ohmygosh, here he comes..." Nat freezes, Amanda goes white, and Amy's eyes get big. Em and I burst out laughing as I declare that it was a joke. She says, "in a few minutes, he really will walk right through and no one will believe you." I say, "ya, I'm the girl who cried Josh Turner."


Thursday, February 1, 2007

Happy Birthday Queen MAB Manifesto!

Today is the one year anniversary of the birth of my blog.

When I met my friend, Amanda, in October of 2004, one of the first things she mentioned about herself was her blog, the Diva Domain. During 2005, I would visit her blog everyday, along with Oreos and Milk, my friend Emily's blog, and I became wrapped up the world of the "blogeois." After awhile, I wondered why I didn't have my own blog.

Writing has always been a passion of mine, one I have nurtured since childhood, but somehow it got lost over the years in term papers from college and press releases at my job. I was using my craft, but for simply a means to an end. My blog reawakened the creativity within me, and has been integral in my decision to finally begin to pursue the quintessence of who I really am.

As I mentioned before, 2006 wasn't a spectacular year. But as I reflect on the things I did "right" in 2006, the Queen MAB Manifesto comes to mind. Chapter One of my blog has ended, and I confidently begin Chapter Two. Thank you for indulging my passion by faithfully reading.

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