Sort of Wordless, Um...Friday

(sammy and his many cats...totally rock and roll)


(come talk to me, peter gabriel)

Community

I'm, all at once, amazed and confused at the idea of community. In this day and age, I don't think it's as easy as it once was to figure out. Before, you had your neighbors, your church group, moms with kids the same age, etc. Now, however, the idea of community is completely different and expanded. Blogs and facebook and email and suddenly we have access to people who would, normally, never be in our lives. Or in our lives for a brief moment and then moved along.

Sometimes I long for a girlfriend to just drop by and drink hot chocolate as we talk of things big and small...but then I realize that I do have that girlfriend. Even if she isn't in the same town and the talk comes via email. I can get on our shared community page or facebook and reconnect to a best friend from high school, encourage one another through our careers. If I need some mommy reassurance, a quick question via the appropriate medium and I have at least 20 moms of all ages jumping in, in minutes, to help and answer. When I'm having a hard day, a quick email to any number of friends from any number of points in my life are there to listen and talk me down.

Community is so different than when my mom was home all day raising kids. And I, for one, am deeply blessed and eternally grateful for that. My community is big and varied and all over the place, physically, age wise and experiences. And while I don't have many "just dropping by" girlfriends near, I do have some and am making more all the time, but I'm also abundantly blessed by those virtual ties that keep so many connected as well. "Dropping by" may look different, but the benefits are still the same.


(soul meets body, death cab for cutie)

Yeah. I Don't Get It

There are certain popular artists that most people love that I...just don't get. Elvis? Well, I often say that there is only one true Elvis and his last name is Costello. Whitney Houston? Ew. Sade? So don't get that one. The Rolling Stones? Really? Nails on a Jagger chalk board. And, usually, I can find SOMEONE to agree with me. However The Beatles is where that one lone person I've found and I usually part ways. Because DUDE. I don't get the Beatle love.

We weren't raised on the Beatles like so many people my age were. My parents tended toward the Slim Whitman (Seriously. No link. And I beg of you not to google. Unless you meet a similar exploding end like the Martians...) and "classic county" vein. So I was raised on the Statler Brothers and Oak Ridge Boys and Jim Reeves as well as Alan Jackson and Randy Travis (which, have I ever shared the story of the boy in Jr. High that looked just like Randy Travis? I don't remember his name, but his nickname was chango (monkey in Spanish) because of his ears. He was only in town for a year, from somewhere Midwestish and I had a huge crush. Drinking Cherry 7up totally reminds me of him..) ANYWAY.

I don't really know my parents position on the Beatles, but I'm assuming it's not one that is favorable. Who knows, though. Maybe they are closet fans? My point is, though, that I wasn't raised on them and I can't remember the first time I heard them and actually knew who they were. But I was underwhelmed. My sister used to watch...Hard Days Night? and since my sister was the epitome of cool to me at the time, I tried REALLY hard to love it. But I just didn't get it.

Maybe some of it is that I don't have any touchstone in my life that includes a love of the Beatles. Maybe I'm just obstinate. Maybe I'm new wave...

Looking at the evidence, though, you would THINK I would love them. I really do like a lot of their songs. When they aren't singing. Neil Finn cites them as an influence ALL THE TIME. And, well, everybody seems to get it but me. And I've tried. Really I have. But...nope. I got nuthin for this one.


(I don't think I could ever find words that convey what this song means to me. An absolute favorite: lied, midge ure)

My Love. My World.

I always assume I'll die before Isaac. He's strong and healthy and in great shape. He's mentally with it and not prone to stress or worry. You know, unlike me. Who, while really healthy, is not in great shape. And is convinced the worry and stress will kill me sooner than later.

A lovely pint sized patient sneezed on Isaac the other day at work. He has been saddled with a cold ever since. Sammy hasn't gotten it at all and I have its very mild cousin. Isaac definitely has gotten the worst of it. He is in full Barry White voice-mode, stuffed up and not feeling great at all. We stayed in as much as possible this weekend and I think we'll be done and over by the end of the week. HOWEVER...

Thanks to my own cold fueled sinuses, the past two nights I've had dreams Isaac died of this. Dreams that clearly show I don't want to deal with all the business paperwork after he's gone and of the "holy cow what would I DO" variety (luckily his life insurance lets me sulk and hibernate and wonder A LOT). So, naturally, I'm obsessed with how he's feeling. If his lungs are normal cold feeling or abnormal need a hospital die of pneumonia feeling. And apparently I keep "looking" at him weirdly.

I'm pretty sure he's going to have to go to the doctor soon, just to appease me. Because, in all seriousness, I do not know what I would do without him. Somehow, someway, he's become my whole world. And with all of my aches and pains and issues, I can deal with those much better than having the love of my life sick with a cold. THAT is killing me.

(See? Again with the stress and worry...)


(better than ezra, breathless)

Top of Lungs

I find myself singing in stores a lot lately. I maintain it's not my fault...I totally wouldn't be if they played something horrible, but they don't. Take Friday for example. Isaac was home with Sammy, nursing his cold (before lovingly passing it along to me...) and I ran out to take care of a few errands. Store number one:


(regret, new order)

Right? How is one supposed to shop in silence when they play things that simply beg to be sung? I was planning on paying attention to the other songs playing but ran into friends, instead. However...

Not to be outdone, store number two had this going:


(when smokey sings, abc)

I mean, C'mon! Are there people out there impervious to the charms of ABC? If so, I don't want to know. (And do you ever wonder if Martin Fry and Tim Gunn were separated at birth? No? Just me?)

I left the stores clearly in denial. I was choosing to believe that these places have just stumbled on to the greatest music ever made...not that my music is now the stuff of muzak compilations. Denial is much happier.

Everything's good in the world tonight, indeed...