Top 5 Toad

I LOVE Toad the Wet Sprocket. LOVE. Can't begin to explain the love. I so don't want to be one of "those" people, because there is music today that I clearly really love, but man. I miss the early 90s. I just do.

1. Walk On The Ocean ... my first year of college. My best friends. Back when life didn't really suck, we just thought it did.


2. Something's Always Wrong ... I don't often read comments on youtube, but that first one? About attaching to songs from a simpler time? Yeah. That.


3. All I Want ... I just forgot. So sublime.


4. Hold Her Down ... Yeah, I know. But I attached to this song at a point in my life that made sense and I've always loved it.


5. Good Intentions ... was this on a soundtrack? Friends? Axe Murderer? I associate it with both of those, oddly, but didn't look it up. Again. Man. I miss the 90s.

Swallowed Up

Sammy's school is, well, it is its own little ecosystem. I would guess that at least 65% of the parents of the kindergarten class are college professors. At least. PhDs seem a dime a dozen. It's been a little crazy this year, trying to figure all of this out.

It takes a LOT for me to feel stupid. Because I'm not. Stupid. I'm intelligent and read when I don't know something. I'm college educated, sure, but I also like to think that I have common sense, as well. I'm fairly well rounded. But throw me into a room with a bunch of the other moms? Wow. Inadequacy abounds.

There are a couple of the moms that I would love to know better. I feel we would hit it off and, well, it's not like we aren't going to see one another for the next several years. But drop offs usually consist of me in my sweats, or yesterday's clothes, feeling chagrined that I don't have anywhere to BE in order to have showered by 8 am. I try to be witty and charming but fret that it comes off as desperate and trying too hard. In a word, I feel like I have a giant "LIKE ME" sign on my forehead and I'm failing - miserably.

I'm a great person. I'm a terrific friend. I'm intelligent and witty and pretty darn fun to be around. But I get around these women who are so dang accomplished - with PURPOSE! - and it's high school all over again, on my side. I get tongue tied and down on myself. Which is ridiculous, because they are nothing but lovely to me. Nothing but welcoming and inclusive of my life. I'm the one invalidating my role and position and purpose. Not them. Maybe by the end of Sammy's school career I'll have this worked out. With friends firm on equal footing to show for it.


(the rain, swell season)

Camper I Am Not

I used to have things that I didn't like that I felt I had to apologize for. One? Camping. I loathe it. I don't understand why anyone would want to sleep outside with no running water for one night, not to mention any other length of time. Don't get it. Even a little tiny bit. And I used to feel I needed to apologize for it. But not so much, now.

Thankfully, while Isaac doesn't HATE camping, he certainly doesn't love it, either, and had more than his fair share growing up, so I don't have to feel guilty depriving him. He is just as comfy as I am to stay in the lap of budgeted luxury when we vacation. He's just as excited as I am (Sammy even more so!) to head back to New York. The sooner, the better. Roughing it, for us, is a beach house on the Oregon coast. I'm okay with that.

I always felt I had to apologize because it seems that I either love camping or I get labeled prissy or high maintenance or something else. And it took me many years before I could realize that neither extreme is true. I can both hate camping and NOT be high maintenance. Shocking, no? But where I live, camping is this badge of honor and women use it to show how down to earth they are. (Ok, SOME girls. Some actually like it, the crazy people *ahem Lora ahem*).

So, today, I'm announcing loudly and proudly: I think camping is dumb. I do not understand voluntarily going somewhere sans beds, internet and bathrooms for the sake of serenity. That's what the off button and yoga is for, right? This opinion, however, does not make my jeans-loving-heart high maintenance nor does it suddenly make me long for hours filled with pink and sparkles. I am the middle ground, dagnabit!

And, yes. I do realize this is another point on where the zombies will have an advantage. I've made my peace.


(camper van beethoven, one of these days)