November 30, 2010

In Bed Before Eleven

Tonight, I was going to write a blog entry about Advent and this being the Week of Hope.

Instead, I responded vulnerably to a vulnerably honest email and wrote a poem that will not be making an appearance on this blog.

Last night, a friend told me they'd been catching up on my blog after a long spell of not reading it. Curious, I asked, "And what did you learn about my life from it?"

"I learned that there are pictures of you in a bikini somewhere."

Not the response I expected. But funny. And true.

There are photos of me in a bikini, and there are poems I have written this month, and neither are going to make it onto the blog.

I am flaunting my right to privacy. Is that rude?

You know what though, tonight's emails showed me that when someone is willing to risk vulnerability with me, I can surprise even myself with my ability to be honest in return.

The End.

November 28, 2010

Fridge Poetry

Nadine and I have magnetic poetry on our fridge door. I always wanted magnetic poetry when I was small. It is very satisfying to have it as a part of my "grown-up life."

Whenever I spot a new poem, I smile. This one made me laugh out loud tonight:

Spiderman could not climb the tree
So he cursed every blossom
& his life

And this is one I am quite proud of writing:

I am bruised like a cliche

November 27, 2010

Yesterday I Fell In Love...

...with a pair of boots.

I hate shoe shopping. There are so few shoes that fit right, that are that perfect intersection of comfort, style, and utility.

And right now, I need winter shoes. Winter boots and winter shoes. At least two pairs of durable and warm foot coverings for the coming months.

These boots hit the sweet spot.

Now to drum up $250 so I can call them my own.

Kidding. I'll just think about them.


November 25, 2010

She's That Kind of Girl, Folks (Round 22)*

Two preamble thoughts:
a) I was going to save some of these for future weeks that are lacking, but I just couldn't choose which ones to pull. They're all soooooooo good.
b) I've decided that Nadine is like Sleep Talkin' Man, except she says outrageous things when she is awake and uses less profanity. Also, there are fewer talking animals. 

That is all.
(Here are the last twenty-one weeks.)

her: I'm trying to play Lexulous and it's stressing me out.

her: Are you not participating in my pity party???

her: I don't want spells on my underwear.

her: If I didn't have a body...It would be much cheaper to live.

her: Remember when I said I was going to get up and brush my teeth? Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii...didn't really mean it.

her: It's not like, oh crap, I'm in an unhappy marriage because my mother WILLED it.

her: Is that a sign of being a grown-up? Paying for the dentist instead of going to a Hanson concert?

her: If not, I'll pull out my Rob Ford face.
me: What's your Rob Ford face look like?
her: It looks like two middle fingers!

her: Have a....have a day? Try to have a good day.
me: I will...I mean, who doesn't love this voice?
her: You should call all your guy friends and leave messages for them. But don't tell them who it is.
me: Yeah, cause caller ID won't give that away...

her: Parents don't use condoms! Condoms are for one-night stands!

her: My parents made sure I wasn't too popular by dressing me in Christian T-shirts.

her boy: Know how you become rich?
her: Get a boob job and marry a boy bander?

her: He may be homeless, but he's no bum!

her: I would mortgage my house for a belt!

her: I didn't know I was the drinker in this relationship!

her: I don't wait for people when it's Christmas.

her: Ok, I'm going to put on pants that stay up. Because that's the kind of girl I am.

*allusion to the last quote, and allusion to this song by DC Talk...

November 23, 2010

Things That Are Difficult

  1. Being on the receiving end of unexpected generosity.
  2. Taking conversations with new friends from the "mid-range" level to the "honestly honest" level.
  3. Knowing how to handle gossip.
  4. Being patient with small children.
  5. Being patient with overgrown children.
  6. Waiting. For pretty much anything.
  7. Going to bed on time.
That is all.

For today.

November 21, 2010

Advent Doors

I didn't grow up in a liturgically-religious family, and I only vaguely understood Advent and Lent for a long time. But since I finished university, I've realized that liturgy can be beautiful and solemn and joyful and incredibly meaningful.

Last year, a friend sent me a link to a site called The Advent Door. It's a series of paintings and reflections to take you through the Advent season. I am going to enjoy it again this year, and wanted to share it with you all, should you be looking for some liturgy and art this month.

I won't promise it, but I'm considering my blogging my thoughts/answers to her reflective questions. You could then leave comments with your own additions.

(Santa Claus parade occurred today and I walked past part of it... Apparently Shrek, tractor trailers, and Westjet airplanes are now "holiday themed." Who would have known.)

November 20, 2010

Megamind = Megasmiles

Since I woke up this morning thinking about Megamind, I thought I'd just say that if you have a child, access to a child, or are a child at heart, you should go and see it. Hilarious and heartwarming.

Here is the final trailer:

And the ComicCon trailer:

And a clip of witty banter:

November 19, 2010

Kids. Still Cute!

Since this week ended on a surprisingly high note (who would have thought I'd not only survive a PD Day, but actually enjoy it!?), I'm going to share some fun nannying moments before I forget again that this job can be glorious.

First, G. and I are getting along great. His favourite topic of conversation is "Things I Could Beat Beth At" and the list is endless (in his mind). I have trouble knowing how to encourage him without lying and/or inflating his ego in an unhealthy way.

I also love telling him how much I appreciate his patience with C. This positive reinforcement seems to help.

And now a list of funny things that C. has said recently:

(eating a cracker) Crunchy things get wet in your mouth. Want to feel it?

(after blowing me a kiss) There were no hearts when I did that!

(talking about his "girlfriend") I just walked up to her and gave her a hug. I can't believe I did that! And then I gave her a kiss! I can't believe I did that!

(the girlfriend again) I might kiss her tonight. I just might kiss her.

Ah, kids!

And now I'm off to go shopping for a winter coat. Because my boss told me that my job for the weekend is to buy a down jacket. Which she will then pay for. So that I don't stand in the cold schoolyard swearing about my job next month.


November 18, 2010

Pondering Follicular & Other Situations (Round 21)

Nadine-quotes are now being collected for a special themed-edition that will run early in December... You'll love it. I know this, because I love it. (Hint: one of last week's quotes is on this theme. But you wouldn't know it.)

Without further ado, this week's quotes:

me: Okay. I'm going pee. Then to bed. (this is my way of ending our conversation late at night)
her: Pee, then bed. That's the best order.

her: Yeah, he has gay face.

me: I have two questions for you.
her: Hello.

her: I like voices.

her: You know how you said massive clubbing? I may have written down massive sex. What's massive sex?
me: Um, I said excessive clubbing.

me: (prepping for Mumford & Sons) I don't know if I have EVER been so excited for a concert!
her: It's like you're me, when I was 18 and going to see Jake.

her: I have never sat down to ponder the follicular situation of men.

November 17, 2010

I Lie, I Lie, And I Lie. And... I Lie.*

I recently told a friend that I'd realized a fundamental difference between the two of us.

“You lie to yourself a lot less than I do. Either you honestly have not realized something about who you are and how you act OR you own up to it, admit it to yourself and others, and move along. I, on the other hand, will realize something about myself and then proceed to pretend it's not true, hiding it from others and denying it while simultaneously attempting to change it.”

Public self-reflection, a deep honesty and vulnerability are not easy for me. In the words of Marcus Mumford, “I am afraid of what I will discover inside.

In the past few weeks, I've heard myself telling more lies than usual (or maybe I'm just more aware that I'm lying?). Most have been these “little white lies” that seem harmless and innocent and really just serve to save face. Some have been indirect, lies that lead people to believe something other than the truth with some mild misdirection. And a few have been lies of omission, where saying nothing & withholding truth is a type of dishonesty.

But I think at the root of each one is a lie that I tell myself – either about myself, or about the person I'm lying to.

I care too deeply about the way others view me. I was recently asked which I would want to have a lot of: respect, fame, love, or power. The choice was easy for me. Respect. The hardest thing for me to hear is someone saying (or communicating in other ways), “I am disappointed in you.” So to save face, I lie.

I'm uncomfortable with this place of external and internal lies.

But I also know I can't just force my way through with a big ol' dose of straight-up vulnerability. I've tried.

There is a blog post that I have sat down to write at least six times in the last three months. And each time I sit down, I distract myself. My mind goes blank and my heart panics, and I can't write it, even though 85% of it already exists in my mind.

The same thing is happening with my second, promised post about Mumford & Sons. All the words are in my head (albeit in a very jumbled order), but the thought of writing them down and hitting publish feels something like I imagine it would feel if I were ever to go out dressed in "club-appropriate" apparel.


There are people in my life who are allowed to see me in a bikini or short-shorts (at the beach). But I'm not comfortable with the idea of parading down a street for anyone and everyone to see me like that.

Similarly, the insights I had into my own heart and the things I felt on Saturday night, the role of music in my life and a rant about “Christian art” and what it means to live pity-free and side-by-side with people of different beliefs - these are things I hold too close to my heart to blog about this week. Maybe ever.

A secular friend told me they hope I don't censor myself in the planned Mumford entry for their sake; I replied that I censor myself for the religious audience as often as I do for the non-religious readers. (Am I allowed to admit that there are things I just really don't care to publish on my blog? I think so. I'm just sorry it's coming after I promised I would.)

I would rather cop out honestly like this, then write a half-honest entry or just avoid writing it for six months, like the other post I mentioned.

(A friend tweeted awhile back, "In response to ______________, I vow to write clearly or not write at all." I feel like that is a principle I could use more of in my life.)

So if you want to hear my thoughts, you can ask me about it next time we hang out or talk on the phone. Or you can send me an email sharing some of your thoughts on similar topics.** And who knows, maybe I'll even include a bikini photo in my response.
I'm kidding about the photo.
Very, very kidding.
Like, there isn't a chance it would ever happen.

*this title is a quote from one of the most quotable TV shows of the decade: The IT Crowd. This particular line occurs at 0:45 of this clip:

** if you don't have the ability to contact me in any of these ways, I may not actually know you. But if you are keen to hear more, leave a comment and introduce yourself; maybe we'll start some sort of dialogue.

November 16, 2010

Mumford & Sons: The Music

I've been itching to blog about the Mumford & Sons concert, but it took a few days for all my thoughts to settle. At the end of the night, I honestly felt like I was a snow-globe that had just been shaken for the last three hours, complete with an aching back.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. This momentous event is getting two blog entries. One that is a strict review of the musical event, and the other a more in-depth analysis of my personal experience. These are my thoughts on the music/performances. The externals.

The first act was a-man called King Charles. I dislike his persona but quite enjoyed his sound. It's amazing what you can do with a guitar and a voice. His white pants were horribly scandalous and unattractively distracting (that video is not for the faint of heart, conservative and young readers). I'm mildly jealous of his hair, although I was annoyed when he flipped it in front of his face and sang behind it as if he were veiled.

"I paid money to be here tonight," I complained to my friend, "I want to see the musicians. Particularly their hands and faces." (I said something similar about the opening act for The Morning Benders, as they all turned inward and played for each other instead of their fans.)

Anyway, mad skills. Strange man. I suppose most geniuses are like that. Most notable songs were his cover of "We Didn't Start the Fire" and the encore piece with the whole gang...

Next up was Cadillac Sky. If you have any interest in bluegrass or folk, you need to give them a listen. Blew me away. And not just their beards. Yes. Fantastic group of men. The song that stood out to me? "Hangman." How do people move their fingers so fast over such teeny little strings!?!? Floored me and energized me. And apparently, inspired Mumford & Sons to become a band...

Which brings us to the main event.

My friend Steph memorizes the set list for every concert she attends; I had to write it into my handy phone, but I kept track.

1. Sigh No More
2. Roll Away Your Stone
3. Winter Winds
4. White Blank Page
5. Timshel
6.Gave You All
7. Litte Lion Man
8. ??? (A new song, but I googled it and think I found it.)
9. Thistles & Weeds
10. Broken Crown (also new)
11. After The Storm
12. Awake My Soul (with Cadillac Sky)

13. Dust Bowl Dance
14. (with King Charles and Cadillac Sky)

15. The Cave - what other place to end, but this?

Most notable about the band* was the way each man has their own style of playing and interacting; the keyboarder (Ben Lovett) is the "natural leader." He spoke the most with the audience, and seemed to soak in the energy the crazed fans emitted. The bassist (Ted Dwayne) usually looked like he was alone in a room, plucking out the painful past on his strings. I almost felt like I was intruding. Banjo/dobro-playing Country Winston was back and forth between bandmates, playing side-by-side with one or the other. I almost didn't notice him, and yet he was everywhere. He's a rocker, a staple, the steady one.

Which leaves Marcus Mumford to be the genius. It's undeniable. I was floored.

I cannot believe that he is only 23 years old, although Wikipedia would not lie to me. His voice and his lyrics are so full of angst and ache that I find it hard to believe that he is embracing both wisdom and brokenness so fully at a young age.

Each song he sings is intimate and personal and gripping. I don't understand how he can possibly play the drums while singing lead vocals (particularly for this song). And his bashful persona...I buy it. I bet you any money he truly is an introvert.

In conclusion: Musically, worth every penny I spent ($33 for the ticket & $15 for parking). I only wish that I could have seen more of the stage without standing on tip-toe and leaning on the person in front of me. And that I had had a little more elbow room (or brain space). But I will expand on that in the next entry...

*most their live performance, so this excludes all the other things I noticed from their album. Like the fact that they make angry banjo music believable. Or how they make manly music (half the audience on Saturday was male, which is surprising for a concert).

November 15, 2010

Dear Life,

Please stop getting away from me. I just can't seem to get a handle on you. I need more time. More time to sleep, more time to think, and more time to write, specifically.

That is all I have time for before I fall asleep tonight. But it is not all that I'd like to say to you. You fascinate me and I have a lot of opinions about you. Most of them are probably wrong, but maybe if I had more time, we could talk them through.


November 13, 2010

Totally Worth It

Shout out to a couple friendships tonight, while I wait for Kings of Leon to play on Jimmy Fallon.*

Friendship #1 (and 1.5):
I actually meet Friend 1.5 first, but we're only casual acquaintances. I meet Friend 1 and take her for a coffee, thinking I probably won't meet her again...but then she moves to my city and becomes my coworker and before long, my friend. I drive 9 hours to go to her wedding (to Friend 1.5). She was the first person I cried about leaving behind in Vancouver. But then they end up moving to Ontario a few months later. New territory for them both. It is not much of a sacrifice to hop on a bus to the next town over for a dinner of eggplant parmesan, followed by a dessert of pumpkin ice cream, chocolate biscotti, and chai (all homemade!!!!!!!!!).

Hanging out tonight was hilarious. And encouraging. The best combination of worlds. I wish I'd just tape recorded the whole night. (Amelia and Varun can't help but being funny, and Amelia blogs about their inter-cultural marriage regularly. Read it here.)

Friendship #2:
You know those friendships that are totally unexpected, random conversations that end up being so much more than you could have imagined at the time?

I caught up with just such a friend earlier this week. We talked on the phone for nearly two hours, and I did not tell him that I love him. We are incredibly different, and incredibly similar. It boggles my mind.

I told him that I want to adopt children from developing countries some day. He said, "You're like Angelina Jolie!"

We talked about the reality that I do doubt my faith, but can't get away from the amazingness that I believe Jesus is. He said, "If Christians could get rid of all that hokey-pokey stuff about Jesus healing a blind man and burning a tree, and boil it down to the main moral teachings, I'd totally get on board."

But then he reminded me, "You've changed every view I ever had of religion. I talk about it with respect now."

I told him that I pray for him. I care about him & his life, and that's what I do. I said I hoped that didn't creep him out. He said, "It's really touching. I only have one person in the whole world praying for me..."

Moral of the stories: my friendships surprise me and make me smile and I like conversations that spin my head and change my heart just a little. Um, I just want to remember these nights and that when I am exhausted at the end of the week, it is totally. worth. it.

*I hardly watched their performance. Nadine and I were too busy talking. Roommate win. Late-night win. Sleep fail.

November 11, 2010

Caring and Sharing is So Passé... (Round 20)

This week's post contains a few tidbits from last week, when I changed it up. It also includes a mild-cussword. I feel the need to disclaim this, which maybe is needless, but I opted to post it because it is used in the context of quoting a game show, with an almost-appropriate response for those who are opposed to swearing. (I do censor sometimes as I choose what things to put on the blog; there are conversations that don't make it. Of course, you also miss out on all the serious conversations we have, which are plentiful and balance out all this ridiculousness. Nadine is as thoughtful and loving as she is witty and sharp.)

(discussing this "news" article, a hypothetical future conversation with a hypothetical future child)
her: "Mommy, what's shit-faced?" "It's go to your room, that's what it is."

me: Ooh, an article on dating in Toronto! Did you write this one!?
her: It was years ago...(curls up in a ball)
me: (reading from the article)
her: (whimpering) Yes...I think at that point in my life, I had been on one date. For ice cream.

her: It's like you're the man in the room!

her: Sharing and caring? Who shares and cares these days?

(on the amazingness that is CSI Miami)
her: Their writers must have so much fun writing the most awful things they can think of.

her: November is an unfortunate month. For girls everywhere. But I love Matthew.

me: Oh!
her: What?
me: I dropped a potato!
her: I thought that might have been an "Oh, I cut off my finger!" - that's one of the worst "Oh"s.

friend: You need a shirt that says, "I'm single."
me: More specifically, "I'm a nanny, not a single mom."
her: Or "Amber Alert! NOT MY CHILD!"

Grateful For Innocence

This is my most prized possession. A tiny New Testament given to my Grampie when he landed in England for training. It traveled through WWII with him. He didn't know Jesus at the time, but he read it, marked it up, studied it.

Last time I was home, Grampie told me more about his war experiences than I've ever heard him share. He doesn't like to talk about the war, which I've always understood (in theory). He has a collection of amusing anecdotes from his off-hours, and has shared a few vague generalities, but nothing concrete.

The two brief vignettes he shared were enough to shake me. It hit me, as I looked at the watery eyes of now-fragile man, that he has seen atrocities that would make me vomit. He had to kill or be killed. He saw death, more violently & more frequently than anyone else I know. His choice to be silent and to hold these memories within himself is a decision to protect those he loves. Because once you know something, you cannot un-know it.

Nearly every time we talk, Grampie asks about the boy-situation in my life. If there are none, he reassures me that I have plenty of time, and that I don't need anyone, anyway, since I have Jesus, my father, and his own loving self; he spends time every day on his knees for his family. And that is not an exaggeration. Every day. On his knees.

Ah, just thinking about this is making me teary. My Grampie has the ability to bring tears of love to my eyes faster and more frequently than anyone else in my life.

It is strange and almost impossible for me to imagine him as a young man, gaunt and dirty and living in a trench for weeks on end. Seeing death come to those around him. Sending death to visit others.

It hurts my heart. It makes me wish I could do something, sixty-five years later, to fix him; help him; give him back the innocence I don't even realize I carry with me.

Other Remembrance Day entries:
In Flanders' Fields - in remembring the past, let's not forget the present
A Moment of Silence - we each have our own stories and histories
Remembrance Day - a slightly biased article on why I wear a poppy (Grampie's story)

November 8, 2010

Nannying Is Good For Me...

...because it is bad for my pride. 

Instances where arrogance has slapped me in the face:

1. Someone who knows me as a nanny asks what I studied in university. I say, "English Literature." They say, "Oh, and did you graduate?" I bite back my instinctive and indignant retort, "At the top of my class!"

2.With half an hour until I have to go get the boys for lunch, all the laundry is folded and I get a brief break. I love this treat. As I come downstairs to grab my computer, I catch an unpleasant whiff. Yes. That is precisely what I thought. The dog (usually outside, save for today's rain) has had an unfortunate series of accidents on the carpet.

I don't do doggy doo. I really don't do doggy diarrhea.

But I am amazed at what I'm capable of when I have no other options.

3. “Wait, you cook their dinners? And you do their laundry? I want a nanny...I have a bunny. We can have a bunny nanny.”

“You're not the boss of me! Only my mom and dad can tell me what to do!”

Fact: I am domestic help. Call me whatever you want (nanny, caregiver, child wrangler), at the end of the day, I wipe a bum and make food and try to shape character. I am not the ultimate boss. Any authority I have rests on the parents' delegation and giving of that authority. A giving that they could revoke.

4. I don't want to go to a fundraiser for my elementary school. The idea stresses me out greatly, and as I wonder why, I figure out a few different reasons. The main one, though, is the dread of someone asking me, “So what are you up to now?” I would have to say, “I'm nannying,” and let them assume a great deal of things about the last dozen years of my life.

What I end up saying (to the one person who asks) is, “I'm working as a nanny right now...I was out in Vancouver for a few years after university, and decided I didn't know what I I quit my job and moved to Toronto and am taking a year to figure it out.” Overshare. (No one from my class is there. This is both a relief and a disappointment, as I am significantly cuter and more confident than I was in grade 8.)

5. It's playdate time. We walk into the kitchen area of a classmate's house. My entire apartment would fit in their kitchen. And their ceilings are higher. Once we exhaust the upstairs toys, we head to the basement. The children run around, playing on the slide, climbing in the "jail," baking in the kitchen, riding on the fire engine. I wonder what to say. I don't belong in this world. I don't know how to act. Small talk stresses me out, even though the mothers are delightful and friendly and kind. I am keenly aware that I am the odd one out.

November 7, 2010

NaNoWriMo Update #2

photo by my lovely friend Jackie!

So, another update.

On Day 3, I killed it. I got sucked in and wrote for hours and made up for all the words I was behind.

But on Days 4-7, I wrote a total of maybe 150 words. Yup.

It is 8pm now - I was going to start writing at 2 this afternoon to make up for my NaNoWriMo neglect... I didn't come home until 5:30. I have not written a word, and I am about to turn on the TV for Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.

I give up.

Before you start freaking out, I have two qualifiers:

1. I am not going to stop writing my story, and I am going to continue making an intentional effort to work on it this month.

2. I will continue to write every day this month - on one thing or the other. Part of the reason I've not done any NaNoWriMo is that there are so many other things I want to write, and such a limited time to do it all in. I literally have a list of fifteen blog posts waiting to be written for this blog, plus daily entries on my Dear Stranger blog. Plus poems.

I actually consider this "failure" a great success. I am writing. I am thinking. I am doing and dreaming and encouraging others to do the same.* And I'm not going to stop any of those things.

*my friend Keri is kicking some serious NaNoWriMo butt after I challenged her to join me. I'm so proud of you, Keri!!! Keep it up!

November 6, 2010

The Morning Benders @ The Mod Club

I am the only person I know who listens to The Morning Benders (with the exception of Katie V, who accompanied me to last night's show and is now sold on their greatness). And after this post, all of you are going to check them out, okay?

I first heard of TMB through Fuel/Friends music blog, where I find out about most great indie bands. Although, I have to say, I feel pretty proud that I am beginning to find she writes about bands after I have heard of them! Win. Anyway, I first hear Excuses here. Shortly thereafter, I heard Promises through the KEXP Song of the Day Podcast (subscribe on iTunes; you won't regret it). When I realized that both songs were by the same band, I knew I needed to give them more attention.

Promises - I like the social commentary this video puts forth.

This summer, I happened to walk past The Big Chill and saw a sign saying Free Show With TMB - it was only a few days away, and I was thrilled. Even more thrilling was when Chris Chu (the band lead) retweeted my tweet about it. But then I was sick and job-hunting, and I couldn't go...

So I paid $15 to see them last night, in their 6th Toronto show of 2010 (more than they've played anywhere else this year). And it was well worth it.

Thoughts on the show:

1. I like The Mod Club. I like that there is a balcony where I can stand, free of the crowd, and actually observe the musicians perform. It reminded me a bit of The Commodore in Vancouver.

2. Indie bands are made up of:
The Hipster (the front man/woman, a perfect blend of chic & nerd),  
The Uber-Hipster (so hipster it hurts),  
The Nerd (actually a nerd, with the tiniest shred of chic), and  
The Rocker (not actually a hipster, but rounds out the band with a little accessibility for the rest of us).

3. TMB puts on a show that is more rock and less acoustic than expected. I like hearing that their range is wider than I thought, that they can maintain their "sound" whether playing unplugged or very plugged.

4. It takes a great band to do a cover justice (related: I love The Breaking Lakes cover of "Come Together"):

Dreams (Fleetwood Mac) - one of TMB's favourite songs, a great Canadian choice.

Imagine bubbles falling slowly down during the chorus:
Thunder only happens when it's raining
Players only love you when they're playing
They say, women, they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean you'll know
You'll know

4. I like seeing a band interact, but I dislike when the entire band turns in on itself, and we, the audience are on the outside. Face me. I paid money to watch your face and your hands, not to stare at your back.

5. I knew that the show would wrap up with this, the first song I heard. I love the way it builds. I love the way it evokes the 1950's. I love the way they made it both heavy-hitting and heartfelt. I love that there was a moment of stillness in the theatre, and then 500 of us sang along with the chorus.

Excuses - the oh-so-acoustic version of the epic finale

The title line is crushing:
I made an excuse
And you found another way to tell the truth

6. There was, of course, an encore. This new single.



7. The best detail of the show? They went on at 8:40, wrapped up by 10pm. Katie V and I had time for dessert and discussion at Dolce Gelato and still made it home before midnight. (We're old ladies. What can I say?)

Next weekend: Mumford & Sons. I AM READY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (although I can't decide if I should listen to their new tracks in advance, or be surprised by their amazingness live.)

November 4, 2010

Even From Afar (Round 19)

This week, a slight diversion from the regular format. Mostly because I was not a diligent scribe throughout the week. But still funny, and still true to Nadine's life with me.

Today, I'm minding my business at work, and get this text:

her: Eharmony is free all November. I dare you.... :)

So I respond:

me: I'm in. Also, I am not going to survive today. C is.... not listening well. Sigh.

her: Yuck. Three-hour timeout. That would be my call :)

me: The threat of losing a playdate is hardly working. And I WANT the playdate to happen.

her: There should be boarding school for toddlers.

me: I AM the boarding school equivalent.

her: Oh. Right. Note to self: hire a nanny when terrible twos/threes arrive.

me: I will, I think. At least part-time. Note to self - start saving for a nanny.

her: Last night The Boy threatened me with the idea of having ten boys. Um... I would pull out every strand of hair on my head. And then I would become a truck driver and leave him alone with the kids for days at a time.

me: That is a brilliant idea. Although, I'm not sure if he can really get ten boys without your okay...

her: He had a twins/triplets strategy so they would all be close in age. My strategy would involve tubes being tied.

me: I think I'm just going to post this conversation on my blog tonight.

her: You bring out the most random conversations in me. Even when we're not in the same room.

November 1, 2010

NaNoWriMo Update #1

Day 1 of NaNoWriMo: I wrote 2 pages. I was supposed to write 6.

Which means that I probably need to rethink my plan.

And get some immediate self-discipline.

(The idea of instant character growth reminds me of this song, played often on our cassette player.

Yes, my childhood was strange.)

On the upside, I do like the quality of what I've produced so far.