Don’t be this woman who wears unicorns while having lonely little tea parties in her living room. Be the person who thoughtfully and lovingly purchased the unicorn for this woman to wear while having lonely little tea parties in her living room.
Author Archives: Lib
The Music Challenge #5
Funerals are depressing things. I don’t do well with funerals. I think I may have mentioned that before. The thing is, when I die, I’d like it to not be so depressing. You’ve seen movies like Love Actually where Liam Neeson gives his wife a great send off to Bye Bye Baby. Or any film or TV show where an Irishman dies and they throw a big party at the local pub. Lots of Guinness to go around. Little bit of Danny Boy thrown in for good measure … That’s what I want.
My younger sister and I have discussed this topic at great length over the years. It’s almost like a game. When we go, what should our funeral song be? What would be a great funeral song for the people we know? (although that version of the game can get a little mean – funny as hell, but a little mean).
You can actually go several ways with the funeral song question. I’ve decided to add my go-tos to The Music Challenge list as the following songs always make me think of death and funerals when I hear them. Not that I’ve ever heard a one of them at an actual funeral. In fact, I’m used to hearing rather slow and melancholic hymns, but the bottom line is, when these songs flash across the radio, I have had the thought “THAT would be a GREAT funeral song for…” Continue reading
The Music Challenge #4
For your Friday merriment, and as a continuation of music that has created some awesome dance movements, I’d like to add one special song that reminds me of one of the most awesome dance moments ever ….
Christopher Walken rocking out to the musical stylings of Fatboy Slim’s Weapon of Choice. In-freaking-credible. Everytime I hear ANYTHING by Fatboy Slim, the first five seconds bring me to Christopher Walken killing it in this music video.
Song number 15 of 365. Watch. Absorb. Enjoy. (and you’re welcome)
15. Fatboy Slim, Weapon of Choice (2003)
The Music Challenge #3
I am not a dancer. I was in ballet when I was like 5, maybe? I didn’t even make it to the recital. I sucked at dancing. I still do. I have no rhythm. I’ve said it before – I dance like Elaine from Seinfeld. Not kidding – we could be twins.
Doesn’t mean I don’t dance. I just have a lot of people staring at me to stop when I do it. I have attended many many dances and clubs over the years. Do I wish I could bust moves like Young MC? Of course! Everyone wishes they didn’t look like they were simultaneously spazzing, seizing, and swallowing a toad while grooving to their favorite tunes, but sadly, that’s just not me.
I admire dancing. I think the people who do it are amazing. It’s art in motion. Who couldn’t appreciate that? So while I was at the gym today and a little C+C Music Factory came across my itunes, I decided it was time to add some dance music to my 365 songs.
All of these got me shaking my stuff on the dance floor (even if they shouldn’t have) in one way or another. Because there are so many dance songs that take me back, today’s selections focus a bit more on the pre-choreographed group dance crazes that I actually learned at some point in my life. Still doesn’t mean my particular execution wasn’t so atrocious it forced innocent people to avert their eyes, but it did get me on the floor sharing a united moment with the masses.
Here you go. In no particular order: Continue reading
Total-Take-Back: Potty Mouth
My brother decided 2014 was the year of extremely thoughtful and personal gift giving. He was very excited to give us Poo-Pourri. Please, watch.
It was a little Christmas gift set. There was the traditional Poo-Pourri, which you shake and spritz into the toilet, alleviating any foul stench in the air, and it was accompanied by a little mouth spray like Binaca called Potty Mouth.
Poo-Pourri mouth freshener and toilet spray.
I was brushing my teeth and I’d never used a mouth spritzer before. Sure I’ve used Listerine and other mouth washes, but I’ve never used Binaca or something like it. The flavor of this spray was Candy Cane. Couldn’t be too bad, right? I thought I’d try it out. So I grabbed the spray from the counter and released a few pumps into my mouth.
It was the most wretched, foul-tasting thing that has ever hit my tongue! I was gagging over the bathroom sink. How could this breath booster be so awful?!!! Then I realized I hadn’t shaken the bottle like you do with the Poo-Pouri. All of the minty freshness must have settled at the bottom. I shook the bottle rigorously and reluctantly sprayed the supposed Candy Cane pleasantness back into my mouth. Again, I gagged.
What sort of disgusting mouth spray did my brother buy us? I grabbed my toothbrush and rapidly began scrubbing my tongue as hard as I could to remove the revolting taste that seemingly stained it forever.
This had to be a terrible prank. I grabbed the bottle to look at the ingredients. Was this some ridiculous Spencer’s gag gift my brother had bought for a bit of personal merriment? Was he maniacally laughing somewhere at my gullible expense?
I was looking at the label when I saw it. I’d been spraying the Poo-Pourii repeatedly into my mouth. I’d used the wrong bottle.
We won’t ever talk about this again.
PS – the actual Candy Cane stuff was pretty good.
My Husband & Chris Pratt’s Abs
Clifford and I struck an accord this December. He wants to grow a beard. I like clean-cut. Maybe clean-cut with a bit of scruff, but he wants a full-on-lumberjack-not-quite-ZZ-Top-looking beard.
Yeah.
Anyway, I know beards are trending right now, particularly thanks to hipster types that are into those special beard oils and overpriced maintenance kits. Heck, Wil Wheaton shared a blog post about the year of the beard just yesterday. It’s a thing. I get it. Still not my thing.
So when Clifford came to me and told me he was going balls to the walls with it, I laughed. I rolled my eyes. I said, “I don’t think so.”
But he was set on growing a beard. It was his dream. A dream I had prevented from happening for over nine years. We had finally hit our impasse. Well, when at an impasse, no time like the present to negotiate. And negotiate terms I did.
I had two:
- Six months. He would have until June 15th, 2015 to grow his beard. At that time we would reassess his poor decision.
- He has to have a six pack (and I’m not talking beer here, folks)
See, the way I see it is that if I have to stare at that hideous monstrosity day in and day out hiding the face with which I fell in love, it’s only fair that something just as lovely is substituted in return to refocus my attentions elsewhere. A six pack is a worthy substitution.
So on June 15th, if he likes the beard, AND he has a six pack, the beard stays. Otherwise, that thing is coming off faster than a prom dress with much less sentimental attachment in its wake.
I felt my husband needed some inspiration for his journey. Gaining a six pack is no easy feat. He’s no longer what you might call a spring chicken, but he’s still only 34. Six months of hard work is doable. I needed to show him some other guys in their 30s who took it and ran with it so he could understand the possibilities. I wanted him to see exactly how I wanted him to look what he could look like with some hard work and dedication.
Enter Chris Pratt (well, and Stephen Amell). Just as women everywhere have their little boards of inspiration, I thought Clifford could use one, too. After all, sometimes telling someone isn’t the same as showing them what you mean. So I sent him these.
A beard like this would be great.
A beard like this would be absolutely acceptable.
Abs like this is what I mean.
Clifford could SO make this happen.
He pretty much laughed in my face, “whatever’d” me, and kept on growing his beard.
It’s been about a month since we made our deal, so I thought it was time for a quick check-in the other day. Maybe a few motivational words to keep Clifford going. I sent him this.
What better motivation than Chris Pratt’s abs? Then I received an immediate cease and desist request. I believe the words he texted were: Stop sending me these pics. Don’t need the guys on the job seeing me open pics of half-naked dudes. So stop.
The text was followed by a phone call. Clifford said he was with his contractor and his client showing them pictures of samples on his phone when all of a sudden Chris Pratt showed up in all his glory. And he didn’t show up on the phone like he does in the aforementioned text message. He showed up like this.
Clifford said the contractor and client both looked at him, then at each other, then to Chris Pratt’s abs, then they looked anywhere but at Clifford and Chris Pratt’s abs. No one said a word and Clifford went back to showing samples.
Needless to say, he was not as pleased with Chris Pratt’s motivational abs as I’d hoped he’d be (never thought I’d write a sentence like that… hmmm).
Regardless, it’s on. The Great Beard/Ab Compromise of 2015. A thank you in advance to Chris Pratt and Stephen Amell for unknowingly offering your bodies yourselves as stimulus on Clifford’s quest to meeting my conditions.
It all comes down to June 15th, folks. Stay tuned.
The Music Challenge #2
I was at the gym yesterday listening to Matisyahu’s One Day and I was reminded of just how much I dug reggae in the day. Still do, really. Reggae is the one type of music that, no matter the lyrics, takes me to my happy place. It makes me smile and adds an extra bounce to my step. I’m not kidding – reggae songs could have some of the most sad, depressing lyrics of any song on Earth (like a Country song) and somehow, somehow, joy fills my heart. It gives me an energy that lasts for hours.
One cassette I listened to repeatedly was my precious UB40 Promises and Lies. I could pop that puppy in the recorder and sing along all day long. Maybe theirs wasn’t the same kind of reggae people think of when they think of such greats as Jimmy Cliff and Bob Marley – I mean they were sort of Brit pop? But hey – it was my happy music taking me to my happy place.
So adding to my 365 are 4 songs that no matter where I am, or what I’m doing, make me smile and feel a little lighter for a while. My Happy Place songs:
2. One Day, Matisyahu (2009)
3. Red, Red, Wine, UB40 (1983)
4. I Can See Clearly Now, Jimmy Cliff (1993)
5. Three Little Birds, Bob Marley (1992)
Tell me you connect somehow to at least one of these!
Best Big Brother Ever
Today’s post is just a big shout out to my Big Bro. I have THE BEST brother in the world!
Me and my big bro.
He spent three hours of his free time on a random Monday remotely making my very sick computer well again. Three hours spent piddling around with mind-numbing computer stuff, forcing him to watch the national football championship on delay – just so he could help his little sis. As a Big 10 alum (even though by some sick twist of fate he’s become a Florida fan), that’s HUGE (even if he was desperately pulling for Oregon because, c’mon, we all hate Ohio State).
Yeah, my brother is a pretty awesome guy. Without him, I wouldn’t have this blog either, wherein I can post crazy shout outs about his awesomeness. If you don’t know my big brother, you should. And if you do? Realize how lucky you are.
So um, thanks (?) mom and dad for, you know, making him happen.
The Music Challenge #1
I am not exactly sure how I’m going to structure The Music Challenge. So forgive me if it changes a bit from post to post. The one thing I do know is that they will not be in any particular order. I’m not ranking them. How would one even begin to rank 365 songs?
Also, I have changed my Thursday-Thank-Yous page (no one seemed particularly thankful on Thursdays) to The Music Challenge to keep my ongoing list of one year’s worth of songs that transport me or remind me of something special.
Kicking things off – today I share with you my beloved Billy Joel. I’m sure he’ll show up a few more times (big fan). However, there was one song that always throws me back to my tween years.
I watched the video a thousand times. It was pretty iconic for a music video in the day. It was also one of those songs, as a naïve tweener, where you know this musician is totally hitting the nail on the head. He’s calling out the man and sharing a killer message everyone should be listening to. I was being told by Billy Joel himself (in 4 minutes and 49 seconds) 40 years of newsworthy history that had brought us to the world as we knew it then (1989). Mind. Blown.
Every time I hear the song now, I’m reminded of a conversation I had with one of my uncles over dinner in Savannah. We were at Churchill’s Pub eating fish and chips. I remember that part as clear as day. I don’t know how we got on the topic. I was probably being some idealistic college student talking about changing the world because it’s so tragic now and that’s what you do in college – swim in idealism. He took in what I said, listening to me rant with a knowing look in his eye, and then proceeded to tell me how every generation thinks theirs is the one that’s messed up and destroying the world. They think every other generation had it so much better than theirs does. Maybe the 80s had things like The Cold War, but the 50s had things like the Korean Conflict. It wasn’t all poodle skirts and house fraus waiting on their husbands and children like some Leave It To Beaver episode. Yeah, my uncle is pretty smart. I loved that dinner with my uncle. I think it was the only one-on-one with him I’ve ever had.
Billy Joel is smart, too. This song is probably far from many a fan’s favorite of his, mine included, but it is memorable and it does remind me of an awesome moment shared with my uncle during a surprise dinner while he dropped knowledge bombs left and right. Backing up my uncle’s words, the song states, pretty boldly might I add, that the grass is not greener. Nor was it ever. A great song to kick off The Music Challenge.
- We Didn’t Start The Fire (1989)
I would love your thoughts on this song! Love it? Hate it? Does it remind you of something in particular?
The Road Not Taken
Yep. The title of this post is EXACTLY what it says. Hadn’t read this in a really long time and it called to me randomly late last night. SO FREAKING ON POINT. I forgot how much I love it. I hesitated in posting because everyone has posted this somewhere and it’s a bit cliché, but then I decided it’s my blog, I can be cliché, and I can post whatever I want. Enjoy!
- all credit to Mr. Frost
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
