Archives for March 2013

Free And Clear

When I was in college, I used to live for those little stretches-o-time when there was nothing due: no papers, no tests, no reading assignments, NADA. Emma Kate and I used to laugh about the fact that she was never happier than when she had her whole morning and afternoon scheduled with classes and study sessions and meetings and Bible studies, and I was never happier than when I had 48-72 hours to do nothing but watch old Letterman episodes on VHS.

What can I say? I’ve always been super motivated.

Over the last two weeks I’ve thought about Emma Kate about 96 times, mainly because my schedule would’ve been her dream come true in college. It’s not that I’m any busier than anybody else; it’s just that about four different projects – two at work, one at home, one with writing – were all demanding my attention, and I knew that if I didn’t hunker down and put on some sassy blinders and FINISH, ALREADY, I was going to find myself in a spiral of procrastination and deadline-related despair.

(For some reason I pictured myself standing in a mall parking lot wearing a leotard and leg warmers and holding up a boom box a la John Cusack in Say Anything when I typed that last sentence.)

(Which can only lead me to think that at some point in my mental life, leotards and procrastination have gotten all tied up together.)

(I think that there is more symbolism there than I care to unpack at this juncture.)

Anyway, this past Saturday morning I am so happy to say that I finished the last of All The Deadlines. And I am telling you that when I woke up this morning and didn’t have that immediate sense of TODAY I MUST FINISH SO-AND-SO, I almost conjured up a single tear to fall gently down the left side of my face.

(I am about to head down the most random rabbit trail ever.)


I have no idea why, but I always think of one particular Sheena Easton video when I make any reference to a single tear. So tonight, after I wrote that sentence about the single tear (all of six minutes ago), I wanted to make sure that my single tear video memory is accurate.

I am sad to report that it is not.

But that’s almost irrelevant.

Because if you have four minutes to spare, I beg you to watch this CERTIFIED TREASURE OF THE EIGHTIES.

I have so many thoughts and also questions.

1. Did anyone else notice that Sheena’s earrings mimic the shape of her bangs? Or either her bangs mimic the shape of her earrings? Regardless, that is a lot of spiral.

2. About thirty seconds into the video, I thought, That’s some of the worst fake piano playing I’ve ever seen – and then lo and behold she just stands up and walks off even though there is still piano playing in the song. But I guess that kinda makes sense because the piano was playing by itself at the beginning of the video.

3. No. It doesn’t make sense at all. This is all very confusing.

4. But clearly it’s safe to assume that she was tired of all the fake piano playing.

5. I imagine we can all relate. Sometimes it is exhausting to pretend.

6. After Sheena (that is in fact her real name; I just consulted Wikipedia) gets up from the piano, she takes a few steps into a portion of her music room / dining room / den where she keeps a couple of large video game consoles in the middle of the room. AS DO WE ALL.

7. Why is the guy in camo when he’s playing the video game? Is he a military man?

8. Is the piano part a flashback? Or has the guy snuck into her house so that he can show off his tuxedo shirt while he plays the piano and stares at her?

9. MAYBE he wore the tuxedo shirt while he was “paintin’ the town.” And now he’s “come back around” to play her piano and stare at her like a creepy piano-playing stalker.

10. I’ll tell you what: it’s a good thing that video game console was on wheels. It would have been the devil to move that thing across carpet.

11. I don’t know the nature of her specific gripe against the Defender game, but I think it’s safe to say that after she pushed that sucker off of the balcony, she’s certainly not going to have to deal with it anymore.

12. Truth be told, there have been times when I’ve considered doing something similar with our Wii. But it’s not nearly as dramatic to throw a Wii off the deck and into the backyard. It would just land softly on the grass and then I’d have to go pick it up.

13. I like how the glass shatters in the picture just in case we miss the fact that HE SHATTERED HER HEART.

14. You know what would’ve made the video even better? A SINGLE TEAR.

So there you have it. A post that starts with an update on deadlines and ends with a Sheena Easton video from 1983.

I guess it’s safe to say that things are almost back to normal around here.

Happy Monday, y’all.

A Survey-Type Something-Or-Other


I’m not sure if you remember me, but I occasionally post some things here.

It’s delightful to see you again.

And I am happy to say that I am almost caught up on life again. Last week I finally finished some work-related stuff that’s been hanging over my head, celebrated the little guy’s (upcoming) birthday with a few of his friends, wondered if the house was going to fall in when roofers were here (thankfully the house remained intact), avoided certain frostbite (okay. slight exaggeration.) while watching a baseball game in 44 degree weather, and managed to be sound asleep by 10:30 every single night.

I can’t even tell you how proud I am of that whole asleep-by-10:30 thing.

I don’t think that’s happened since I was in 3rd grade.

Last week I also tried one of those little 90-calorie Snickers ice cream bars for the first time, and SWEET MERCY THEY ARE DANGEROUS. I mean, I appreciate that they’re only 90 calories and all, but as soon as I tried one, I wanted to eat three more. Which sort of defeats the purpose of the 90-calorie dessert option.


One of the things that I am determined to check off my to-do list this week is an article about summer vacations that I’m writing for HomeLife magazine. Earlier tonight I was wondering what would be the quickest way to finish a little sidebar survey that’s going to go with the article, and then I remembered OH, WAIT – I HAVE A BLOG.

It’s a handy little thing, a blog is.

So if there are a few of you who wouldn’t mind answering a couple of super-quick survey questions for the sidebar, I’d be mighty grateful. Be warned that I may quote some of your responses, but I’ll only use your first name if I do.

All righty. The questions.

1. What’s your favorite destination for a family vacation?

2. Typically, what is your state of mind by the time you actually arrive at your vacation destination?

Thanks in advance, y’all, for your help – I appreciate it so much!


So the thing about the work that I do (besides the fact that it involves very complex mathematical formulas and demands a high degree of skill in terms of applying the principles of quantum physics) (whatever) (I’ve never been very strong with the numbers and especially the symbols) is that there are a couple of times every year when it just gets cuckoo. It’s not a bad thing, mind you – in a weird way it is very fun and makes me feel kind of like I’m on the staff of the West Beverly Blaze and Andrea Zuckerman is my demanding but fair editor who is pushing me toward a seemingly impossible deadline – but it’s hectic.

So I think it’s safe to say that I’m going to be a little scarce around here for the next week or so. My days are a little more full than what is typical for me, and by the time I get home and tend to homework and fix supper and then clean up the kitchen (credit where credit is due: my husband cleaned up the kitchen tonight) (bless him), my introverted side is begging for some peace and quiet and maybe even some quality reality television.

How could I possibly deprive the introvert of Chris Harrison and Sean Lowe? HOW, I ASK YOU?

Given all of that, I think it makes sense to put the blog on the way-back burner this week so that Andrea Zuckerman and I can plow through our work-related need-to-do lists.

Those quantum physics problems aren’t going to solve themselves, you know.

Y’all have a good week!

Needless to say I will miss you terribly.