You remind me...

“You remind me of a girl that I once knew…” -Usher

One of the things that always amazes me about music, as well as one of the things I love about it, is that it is intrinsically tied to our memories.  If you think about it, large life moments are tied to song in one way or another.  At birthdays we sing the birthday song, when something good happens we burst into, “For he’s a jolly good fellow” (if you were born before the year 1970) and at weddings when they begin the music for the Chicken Dance, you know you are in the presence of true and everlasting love. 

More recently, when the DJ cues up “Single Ladies,” by Beyoncé, you know it is time for the bouquet toss and therefore time for me to head for the nearest bathroom and wait it out in stealth silence.  There is nothing like an elbow to the cheek bone to ruin a perfectly good open bar and I, for one, refuse to stand for something so heinous!

Musical memories can trigger all sorts of things.  For instance, the amazing time you had at the BSB concert with your High School friends, or belting out any and every Queen song in the mirror, or running down the street, pleasantly surprised to hear “You’ve Got it (The Right Stuff)” by New Kids on the Block blasting from your iPod.  A word of caution; although it is natural to get lost in the beat, do not fail to notice the busted tree root covering the sidewalk.  There is nothing like a little trip and a stubbed toe to enhance your musical journey!

As you get older, you find that embarrassing small children through song is quite an amusing pastime.  When “this is the part of me that you’re never gonna ever take away from me, no,” comes on the radio you can’t help but start a little arm dance action.  Soon, a little voice from behind you goes, “Can you stop? This is embarrassing.”  Naturally, you bask in the joy when you you turn up the volume, add some flair to your dance moves and shame emanates from the back seat.  “Throw your sticks and stones, throw your bombs and blows, but you’re not gonna break my soul!!”  I am going to be such a good mom someday!

Then there are the nostalgic romance songs like that of your first slow dance.  It was so memorable that I’ve racked my brain for the past five minutes trying to recall something about that song and/or event but there is nada.  In the land of make believe, “I Swear” by All 4 One, was a fantastic first dance song. 

Today, I experienced how a new singer (recording artist) can bring back fond memories of times gone by.  Let’s be real for a second shall we?  The new Biebs song, “Boyfriend,” is a rip off of Justin Timberlake and the video is so blatantly Timberlake it borders on plagiarism (that’s not to say I don’t like the Biebs song but he ripped it off, it’s a fact).  It was the whiff of Timberlake, however that brought me back to those good ole college days when my friends and I pondered the age old question, “Did sexy leave?”  Although we never came to a clear conclusion on this incredibly philosophical question, we decided that we'd help Justin bring sexy back anyway! 

Also, I would like to mention, for the record, that the new One Direction “What Makes You Beautiful” video looks eerily like the NKOTB “Summertime” video minus the 40 year old men hitting on 18 year old girls…I’m looking at you Donnie Wahlberg!

Unfortunately, music is also tied to sad occasions.  If music only brought back fond memories then we wouldn’t have country music, soul music or the songs of teenage love gone wrong music brought to you ever so irritatingly and amazingly by Miss Taylor Swift.  Whether you are a fan or not there isn’t one person who heard the verse,

“He’s the reason for the tear drops on my guitar, the only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star.  He’s the song in the car I keep singing don’t know why I do,”

who didn’t immediately go swooshing back to their slightly awkward, angst filled, pining/puppy love High School hallways. 

Music is there to remind us that our life is and was worth living, the good times, the bad times and the incredibly awkward or unsettling.  Music is what gets you through, and I for one will celebrate that every chance I get. 

Till next time

~E

“Last Dance.  Last Chance for Love.  Last Chance, for romance… tonight.  I need you by me, beside me, to guide.  To hold me, to scold me and when I’m bad, I’m so, so bad. So let’s dance the last dance, let’s dance the last dance.  Let’s dance the last dance…tonight!!” ~Donna Summer

 

Comments on Dating: Volume One...

I never thought I would say this but I wish I would have paid more attention in Soc 101: Introduction to Sociology.  Every day it seems I find people and their relationships more and more fascinating.  For example, as I am typing this there is a Dad helplessly trying to get his three year old daughter to stop driving into him with her Barbie Jeep across the street.  I never had a Barbie Jeep but I road in my friend Mary's convertible from time to time because my Dad felt it would be the same...it wasn't.

Anyway, for your amusement, today I want to talk about types.  Yes the who you date, who you like types.  Types are fantastically amusing to me, for whatever reason.  In fantasy land I go for the semi buff, tall, long blond haired dudes that are not gross (hard to find).  Did you know the most long haired blond dudes are either homeless and/or didn’t have time in their busy schedule do some much needed hygienic maintenance for the past 5 years?  Not saying this applies to all, it is just what I have observed.

I have said it before and I will say it again, if Clay Matthews comes a-knocking, I went voluntarily.  This also applies if the guy from Sons of Anarchy shows up (pre-haircut).  But I digress…

Have you ever realized that most people date the same person over and over with just slight variances in personality or name?  No one ever sees it in themselves but everybody does it on some level.  Similar personality, just different hair or face.  

I love when people try to tell you they are eclectic because if you look at their choices, this is very rarely the case.  And eclectic people like to pick other eclectic people thus making them the same.  Patterns make the world go round.

Interestingly enough you usually have a type until you meet the right person.  Through my years working one on one with people, rarely are significant others what you expected.  A person's gorgeous prince charming can often look like the guy from Swamp People.  Even if you haven’t seen the show I am sure that you can imagine!  He may look homeless and completely mismatched but he is a prince charming and this is pretty cool.

Some of my single friends and I were discussing this very topic and determined that aside from looks, emotionally damaged and/or unavailable (emotionally or otherwise) is also a type.  Throw in immature/unsettled and you have quite a party.  Say hi to the lackluster free spirit who doesn't like to be tied down when you leave. 

To bring us off this crazy train for a second... types or not, my personal opinion is that if you are real with yourself and try to make yourself the best person  you can possibly be, there will be someone to match you.  Until that happens, consider dating to be some fascinating anthropological study that you can muse about to all the people who read your blog.  Someone should really get on that!

Till next time… and I promise that will be soon.

~E 

We are Family...

The idea to write a post about sibling relationships hit me a few months ago but the writing never really come together.  I would write a paragraph or two but almost immediately decide they were garbage and completely unworthy of hitting the save button.  Yesterday, however, my roommate handed me this article called, “Sibling Rivalry Grows Up,” by Elizabeth Bernstein and I guess you could say that the creative juices started flowing.

If you think about it, our sibling relationships are the longest relationships we have.  They outlast parents and children, aunts and uncles, boyfriends and girlfriends and even husbands and wives.  That is probably why they are such a royal pain in the ass. 

Growing up, I was a huge ‘Sister, Sister’ fan.  They were best friends, had so much fun, did each others hair and my delusional eight year old self thought that this was what most sister/sibling relationships were like.  The fact that none of my friends had an easy or perfect relationship with their siblings didn’t seem to influence my thought processes because after all, TV is real.  Everybody knows that!

From the womb, I’m guessing, my sister and I were off to a tumultuous start.  I gave her a stuffed Grover as an initial peace offering but I was very unsure about this peculiar interloper.  You see, I was Numero Uno.  As the first grandchild on both sides, for three years I was the Grand Marshall of this parade and master of this circus...literally.  Suddenly there was an adorable new float in town and the parade route changed directions.  The new float was shiny and soft and got more ooohhhs and ahhhhs than I ever remembered getting.  The new kid in town got every one's attention and even got the better tortoise on our family trip to South Dakota.

I had to act fast.  Things were spinning out of control and my world was changing.  When she started to move around I became privy to some very pivotal information that only older siblings know...if I do something, she want to do it too!  Genius!!  I became her leader and she blindly followed me wherever I want to go. 

This arrangement was working perfectly until my parents decided it was time for her to start talking and making her own decisions (parents ruin everything).  Throughout our adolescent years I would say we had our moments.  Sometimes we would laugh until our stomachs hurt so bad that we physically couldn’t laugh anymore and other times there would be hair pulling or shoulder punching or a combination of the two.  The whole “I’m not touching you” finger to the face trick is still one of my least favorites.

People always used to say to me, “Someday you and your sister will be best friends.”  I thought they were full of crap.

Now here is the part in my story where many of you, I’d imagine, are waiting for me to say how harmonious and wonderful our relationship is now that we are older.  Well, reality bites.  I love my sister to death and if anyone tried to hurt her there would be a whole lot of crazy coming their way.  But this whole idea of a perfect sibling relationship is myth, in my opinion. 

In terms of our relationship, I would say that it is a continual work in progress.  It is always a relationship that I want to get better but that takes time.  There are 20+ years of fights, jealousies, grudges and laughs.  People go through therapy after 2 years in a rough relationship, do you honestly think this sibling stuff gets fixed overnight?  Um, no.

It is my experience that sibling conflict arises for the following reasons; either you are too much the same, incredibly different or a fierce combination of the two.  We are a fierce combination of the two.  Here is a typical exchange between my sister and me. 

                                                Her-“Ugh, you are too girly.”

                                                Me- “Sweatpants and athletic sandals, what a new look for you.”

After, we exchange faces at each other and go about our business until we come together to find something to laugh at our parents about because they are the crazy ones after all.  We are both stubborn and want to be right.  We fight the same and have the same thought processes.  Conflict is easy when it is with someone who knows you better than you do…or someone who knows your next move. 

At the end of the day, you keep trying because they are you and you are them.  You have the same DNA; no one else can say that!  Contrary to popular opinion, that means something.  They aren’t friends, they aren’t neighbors, they aren’t partners...they are siblings.  Love them or hate them, you can’t change that…and, if you’re like me, at the end of the day, no matter what the fight or the hurt feelings; you wouldn’t trade them for anything.

xx B

~E

Trapped in the Digital Age...

“Very good work kids, you may now have a text break.” –New Girl on Fox

Yes, my friends.  This is what the world has come to.  What happened to the days of “talk amongst yourselves”?  These days it’s easier to text your best friend sitting one row behind, two seats to the left, than to hold an intellectual, human, non-technological conversation.  We now have entire worlds created in Virtual Reality where the whole purpose is not to talk to other humans. 

I saw an article that said people born before 1990 were going to be the last generation to remember using such things as rotary phones or even phones with a cord, rabbit ear antennae,  cassette tapes, records, dial-up internet, pay phones and the list goes on. 

I hated adjusting those rabbit ear antennae when I was younger.  Cable did not enter our household until I left for college therefore countless hours were spent trying to clear the picture.  And as it went, when you got the screen perfect and walked away, there went the picture!  Very frustrating!

Change like this happens in every generation.  My parent’s Peter Frampton records were replaced by my Ace of Base cassette tapes.  An 8 Track is something I’ve only heard about.  When my grandmother was courting, or stalking, my grandfather she would first have to get word from a friend in town as to his whereabouts.  Then hitch a ride on a wagon in the hopes that he was still around when she got there.  That is dedication my friends and it is apparently effective.  Today, all you have to do is ‘Check In’ and the whole world knows where you are. 

Back in my day, approximately ten years ago, DSL was just beginning and comparatively speaking it moved at a snail’s pace.  I actually remember the day I discovered an amazing new search engine called ‘Google.’  I told everyone I knew that it was far superior to the ones we were using, like AOL or Yahoo.  For those of you readers not around, Google in 2002 was far different from the Google of 2012, practically from the Mesozoic era

As far as cell phones are concerned, you would have considered yourself very lucky to have one if you were in High School.  My parents were definitely not on the ‘teenagers should have cell phones’ bandwagon.  They weren’t on the ‘Car’ wagon either come to think of it.  Oh the agony!  I had to take the bus!

This Christmas, while taking pictures on the iPhones of my High School aged cousins, it occurred to me that maybe these generations are the ones missing out.  Technology makes everything so easy that there is little need to think outside the box.

For example, the art of note passing.  There were many different ways to pass notes but here are my personal favorites.  In 8^th grade French class my friend Brittany and I went through practically an entire notebook a week with the teacher only catching us one time.  Even then, because we were good students, she only gave us a dirty look and kept walking.  The key there was good timing and quick hands. 

In High School, I had my note passing ‘Pièce de resistance.’  Every day in third period French II, I would write a note to my friend Bethany and stuff it down a crevice in the desk behind me.  Then in her sixth period French III class, she would write her response and place it back in the crevice for me to pick up the following day.  It was quite the successful fete if I do say so myself.

However, this might explain why I did so poorly grasping the French language.

A few years ago, I recall hearing a story about how Kiera Knightly threw her Blackberry into the ocean while filming Pirates of the Caribbean because she was ‘too available.’  Don’t think I haven’t thought of it myself.  The second I got my first Blackberry, I was hooked.  I got email, calls, text messages and more in one tiny device!  It was almost like the phone was calling my name saying, “Check me, Check me.”  Nine times out of then there was nothing there but then that one time you see that tiny little icon telling you that you have received a message.  Someone wants to talk to YOU!  How amazing!  “You have received 20% off coupon to Express.”  Darn, but maybe I’ll go shopping.

Sometimes, if my phone dies, I pretend I didn’t notice.  Although I am not sure why, it gives me some small sense of satisfaction.  I AM ALL POWERFULL and you will not control me!  Sadly, it lasts only a short while because I realize it is my lifeline to the outside world and so I plug it in the charger. 

Personally, I am a big fan of technology detox from time to time.  In my opinion, it is quite necessary.  Think of all the fun things you could do.  You could learn how to read a map!  You could talk to your family and friends face to face!  You could see sights and sounds that have been untouched my cell phone towers!  Or you could just let your phone die for a while and relax.  The beauty is that when people ask why you didn’t immediately return their call, text or email, you can respond, “Sorry, no signal.”  And that is not a lie!

It’s all time for us all to power down for a little bit and get back to basics.  Add some spontaneity and creativity back into your life.

Until Next Time,

~ E

Kissing Toads...

Have you ever kissed a toad?  Of course you have!  Everyone kisses toads in their lives. 

Hasn’t your mother ever said to you, “You’ve got to kiss a lot of toads before you get a Prince”?  Whether she used frogs or toads in her analogy is beside the point, both are applicable.  If by some stroke of luck your mother has never had to utter these words, consider yourself the luckiest person in the world.

Due to my recent dating adventures, my mother has once again passed the afore mentioned wisdom on to me.  I have determined the following: I hate when she says that!

Nobody wants to kiss a frog or a toad!  It’s gross.  I blame Disney.

For your amusement, I will now re-enact a toad encounter.

The setting is a nice, semi casual restaurant, complete with dim lighting and a secluded booth.  The choice is perfect for a dinner date because it’s not too fancy, where you are overdressed with a pair of jeans and a nice top, yet a step up from Arby’s you know he's OK.  It’s about thirty minutes into the mindless first date chatter that you realize this date isn’t going anywhere.

Your mind starts to wander a little. “I can’t believe I’m missing Real Housewives for this.  No, that’s bad.  This is good for me. Yes! Positive! Stay Positive!  I did set the DVR, didn’t I? Where is my brain sometimes?? Let’s see.  I curled my hair, then brushed my teeth, then looked at the dirty kitchen, then walked away from the dirty kitchen, then…grabbed the remote and set the DVR.  Awesome it’s done. Phew”

The time goes on and you give it an honest try by throwing some humorous remarks in there and trying to engage in the occasional witty banter.

As you finish the meal and engage in the “I liked the potatoes but the chicken was a little dry” conversation, you realize [CRAP] this date went a lot better for him than it did for me.  This is when you panic and prepare for the slightly awkward, I’ll walk you to your car, should we hold hands through our gloves action because you know the end of the night kiss is coming. 

Lips collide.  Maybe there were sparks, most likely there were not.  One or both of you lie, saying how great a time you had, you go back to your car and the date is over.  In the end it was all relatively painless but you find yourself in desperate need of some comfort.  This is when go home, grab some wine and see what excitement the DVR has in store. 

Maybe later you will call your mom, ramble on about how you are going to end up an old spinster who talks to her cats while knitting them scarves in her rocking chair and crying because she doesn't even like cats to begin with.  Her response to this highly theatrical musing will be, “Everything is OK.  You have to kiss a lot of frogs (toads) before you meet your Prince.”

And if your Mom is anything like my Mom, she will further comfort you by repeating this very familiar saying , “Juilliard called.  They are still holding a spot for you.”  From the other end of the phone, hysterical laughter commences.

End Scene.

For the record, I would like to say something on behalf of the toads.  In this circus act we call dating, women meet every kind of toad.  Toads come in all shapes and sizes.  There are pretty toads, average toads, big toads, small toads, loud toads, quiet toads and more.  There are also bat sh** crazy toads that are drawn to you for some reason or another and are in serious need of attention from mental health professionals.  I digress.

There is nothing wrong with these toads; they just aren’t the right toads for you.  Although I have never been a man, or ever claimed to know what they’re thinking, on some level the same must also be true.  Not every girl is a beautiful Princess.  Sometimes they go out with ugly/evil stepsisters and I am sure it is very frustrating as well. 

Frustrations when dealing with toads are inevitable.  That is what your mother, or friends are there for.  To tell you that someday one of those toads will turn into a Prince.  Until then, think of toad encounters as humorous collections of stories you can share for years to come.

Or perhaps until they get written into a book…things to think about.

Until next time,

~E                                                                                                                     

Forward Movement...

Resolutions, Champagne, Dick Clark and a kiss at midnight.  Those are the three things New Years Eve is known for...other than a hangover.  A unique and, I dare say, lovable quality about New Years is that it presents us with an opportunity to start fresh.  We have proverbially wiped the slate clean and are able to face the year with an entirely different type of courage. 

Deep down, underneath the layers of sequins and alcohol, we know that the mundane day to day never really changes and for a few hours we believe that the drudgery is over.  All the challenges of last year have magically dissipated and the bright, shiny, spanking new year has arrived!! Woo hoo! 

Excitement and hope surround the beginning of a new year and it is intoxicating!  If you don’t believe me then go to a gym and see how the masses have flocked to it in the hopes that this year will be different.  This year they will have the body of a Victoria Secret Model!  Statistically, there is a very small chance that this is going to happen but I applaud people for trying.

Soon, however, March storms in and our bright shiny year begins to tarnish.  Our motivation begins to wane and, to our chagrin, we realize that this year is shaping up to be no different than the past.  Defeated, most of us throw in the towel and say, “next year I will do it!”

While anticipating the year to come, I began to wonder, “What if it was New Year’s Eve all year?”  One thing I have learned in the past year is that the only person that can change my life is me.  It is a simple concept in theory but a little more difficult in execution.

Around September of last year I started getting bored with life in general.  All my normal happenings became only mildly entertaining and after wallowing in a state of perpetual mediocrity for two months, I decided that I was going to shake things up.  Since my job wasn’t changing, I would have to move.  Although I loved my apartment,  I unknowingly created a cozy little comfort zone, or cocoon, and leaving often seemed like too much of a hassle.  I had decorated myself into a rut.     

First, I made a list of everything I wanted in a new living space; location, price, and roommate.  Being a person who likes to have things settled, it was hard to turn down perspective roommates or properties but I was sticking to my guns.  I held out for the right one and am delighted to report that I found it.  In fact, I think it picked me!  The right location, for less than I wanted to pay and an awesome/responsible roommate. 

Since this leap worked out so well, I figured I would keep momentum going in the New Year.  There are new friends to meet, experiences to be had, trips to take, and more steps in the right direction. 

Leaving your comfort zone is never easy but it’s how you move forward.  Make a list of all the things you want to do this year and just do them.  Keep it close so you are constantly reminded that this year, you have the ability to change your life.

My first task: learn to sing from a professional.   This 80’s cover band that has concerts in my head is in need of a front woman and my shampoo bottle is sick of listening to off key rehearsals!

Use the momentum of the New Year and take a few steps forward.  And in July, if the mundane finds you, take a few steps in a different direction.

Happy New Year

~E

Xmas Letter

It seems as though another joyous holiday season is upon us my friends.  Twinkle lights are up, Christmas music is playing and, most importantly, Lifetime has put “A Boyfriend for Christmas” back into its holiday rotation.  What more can you ask for?

For those of you new to my take on the Christmas letter, I invite you to sit back, relax, enjoy and forget all about the fact that it’s barely December and you’ve already blown your Christmas budget.  Now, for the year in review…

Two very profound words summed up early 2011: Green and Yellow.  “Uh huh.  You know what it is, I’m a Cheesehead, y’all are Cheese Wiz.  Aaron Rodgers, MVP Award.  Green and Yellow, Green and Yellow.”  If you were wondering, yes, I did just quote Lil’ Wayne and no, my Grandmother has no idea who that is. 

For Super Bowl Sunday, with the help of my pint size Packer fan friend Nicholas, I was able to infiltrate the Storer Super Bowl Bash and spread Cheesehead cheer.  The game was incredibly nerve-wracking but with a bottle of cider in one hand and a bottle of TUMS in the other, I made it through and victorious celebration commenced!

Spring was spent preparing for two very important events, my 25^th birthday and my trip to Europe.  In May, my friend Lauren and I celebrated our birthdays together.  In honor of our favorite long haired Packer, we named it Clay Day because we celebrated on Clay Matthews’ birthday.  Day one was spent out on the town.  Day two was spent at Kings Dominion.  Note: Riding every roller coaster twice in a four hour period is not the greatest idea following a night on the town.  Nonetheless, Clay-a-Palooza was a massive success.

After taking the week to recover from the birthday festivities, I packed my bags and headed to Spain!  My friend Whitney was teaching English in Almerìa and it took no convincing for me to hop on a plane.  The country was beautiful and the food was amazing.  To my chagrin, I discovered that all my pre trip exercising was in vain as there were no size regulations on who can wear a speedo.  You’re welcome for that visual presentJ

Getting from Spain to England proved to be slightly more difficult than anticipated.  But, I managed to make new travel friends and my ride was still waiting at the airport even though I was a few minutes late…ok, many hours late (Thanks Jack).  My family was in England for THE biggest event of the year; Laura and Adie’s wedding!  I cannot begin to tell you how much fun I had.  There was a trampoline, a dress-up tent, a live band and two proposals of marriage (only one of which I remember).   Note:  A bladder full of hard cider does not mix well with a trampoline and you should ensure a restroom is close by if you choose to engage in such activity.

Upon returning stateside, I enjoyed a fun filled summer with family and friends, and naturally, a few rednecks.  If you don’t recall from previous Christmas letters, I am somewhat of a redneck magnet.  This year I not only met the redneck Gary Busey at the Beef Festival, but I also enjoyed my first (and last) redneck boat trip.  A body guard and a therapy session was all I needed to get back to normal after that fun filled experience!

  The best thing about this summer was that I made it home not once but twice!  I had tons of fun with family, old friends, cheeky English teenagers and Justin Beiber look-a-likes.  Good thing I can hold my own with that motley crew!

The fall has been quite mellow but I was in need of a rest after all the events of 2011.  Although I don’t know what is in store for me in 2012, I am learning that sometimes you have to sit back and let the cards fall where they may.  I’m doing really well with this lack of control thing…kind of…a little bit…ok, not so much.

 Here’s hoping that 2011 was good to you and 2012 gets even better! 

Until next time,

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Love,