Still What I Want For Christmas...

Is not my two front teeth. Though I did go to the dentist recently and so I am thinking about teeth and dentistry and being grateful for what I have.

I recently had a request to update this list. Unsurprisingly, some of the same things are on it -- but I have managed to cross a few things off the list. I'll highlight the repeats in red. Here's a link to the original list, as well.

1. Super awesome recording equipment.
2. DSLR
3. A new phone
4. Boyfriend. Might seem lame-o to actually put this on a Christmas list, but oh well. I've been known to do lame, potentially embarrassing things before. I've turned out okay anyway.
5. A Miele vacuum. Probably a Marin.
6. An awesome SmartWool sock collection
8. Someone to go to Italy and Britain with.
9. Vacation days enough to visit above countries.
10. Lots of board games.
11. an awesome wall garden
12. time with family

Here's what I crossed off my list:
4. Nintendo DS Lite with Mario Bros. game and Brain Age.
5. No more accounting!
6. New job. Preferably in Utah or Seattle or San Francisco. Since this is a wish list, pay should be >$70K/year, 40 hrs/week, with 4+ weeks vacation. Unreal expectations, yes, I know... (location and new job)
7. Real furniture. None of this twin-bed-without-a-real-bedframe-put-on-risers-so-it's-three-feet-tall-and-wobbly garbage. Or the fakey "desk" I've got.*

Neighbor Nostalgia

I don't always love my neighbor. Sometimes she plays Justin Timberlake & soundalikes all day, really loud. Sometimes she has loud parties. By her own admission, she can be a little wild.

We've always been friendly, though, and said "hi" when we pass each other on the street, etc.

Last night, I was working on a project and I could hear her music perfectly well through my wall. She had turned on Frank Sinatra's Christmas album and listened to the whole thing. It was the first time I haven't wanted to tear my hair out at her music choice. Actually, for a little while, it made me smile, but it also made me feel a little bit like I was invading--like I was listening to her memories, peering into her mind, being her Ghost of Christmas Past.

I would not have expected her to be so sentimental in her music choice, from the very little I know of her. (We have had perhaps two or three conversations longer than a minute.) But, as I got her secondhand sentimental Sinatra floating through the walls, I felt a Christmas connection with her. Frank Sinatra would not be my sentimental album of choice for the holiday season, but I appreciated that she was celebrating Christmas, and that she is sentimental, just like me.

Maybe today I'll play Mannheim Steamroller really loud and she will get some neighbor nostalgia back. ;) 

No Air

Two songs:

No Air
She's An Angel

These two are both running through my head. TMBG is beating out Sparks n Brown, by a lot. The only thing they really have in common is lyrics that overlap with the title of this post.

Today, I went to put air in the tires of my car. It got cold, and it became time for the Yearly Yuck. (There are lots of Yearly Yucks, but this was the one I was going to tackle today.) It was 22 degrees on Monday, so I didn't do it then. Tuesday, it was 24 degrees and I still didn't want to do it. Today, I decided I would go at lunch. I was on my way home, and I failed to stop at the first gas station I saw. (A fatal mistake, in terms of the eliminating the Yuck plan.) I thought, "I need to go to the bank, so I'll just go to the gas station closer to home and then go a block down the road to the bank after."

Well, I'm telling you, it was a fruitless endeavor, because where I live is a giant construction zone, and apparently they dug up the bank in the last month without me noticing, and due to the subsequent construction all the parking at the gas station was full. Not only that, but the air was "out of order." I'm cursed with Out of Order signs on air compression machines when I need them most. I'm not kidding. This is at least the third time this has happened to me in the five years I've had my car.

I don't like filling my tires up with air. When I have a Mr. Darcy, I will bat my eyelashes or make some otherwise prohibited treat or do something in exchange, but he will handle the air tire car thing. Always, because:

1. it's cold and my hands always freeze up and it makes getting the little caps off hard, and then I always drop them and they squiggle away from me.
2. it's at a gas station. I don't like gas stations.
3. I'm vulnerable. I'm bending down and it would be easy for someone to run me over or come up and bop me on the head or something.
4. the air is always out of order!!
5. pulling out the little air thing is always awkward and I worry I will run out or yank the tube off.
6. it must be one of the only quarter-driven things left in the US. (I have quarters. but still!)
7. I always worry that i'm not using my gauge correctly and I will over/under fill as a result.

Lots of reasons not to like it. But mostly I'd gotten my gumption up to actually do the Yuck, and then I couldn't even take care of it, which made it even Yuckier! Sigh. And now it's still hanging over me, so I still have No Air.

Mrs. Darcy

Pride and Prejudice (I) 

I was thinking about Pride and Prejudice this morning as I was driving to the dentist. It was before 7am and the light was just starting to filter in from the east. I thought of the song, “Dawn,” from the soundtrack of the "Keira Knightley version" that has thrilled so many female hearts due to its romantic nature – you know, the one that plays as Mr. Darcy strides across the field and the sun comes up behind him and she is waiting as if called by Bronte force, wearing her nightgown and a robe, and he proposes to her again and all is right with the world.

I thought of the first time I went to see that movie, and how I was disappointed. (Having been “raised” on the "Colin Firth edition," this one seemed lacking in both length and Wyckham getting served.) I went with my parents and my little sister, and, though I had laughed and smiled throughout, there was something that was bothering me: the scene at the end. It seemed so unromantic to me at the time! I thought, “All he says at the end is “Mrs. Darcy” like ten times, with a silly look on his face. Wasn’t there anything better he had to say? I demand more flowery words! Why does just hearing that make her ‘incandescently happy?’” 

I brought my concern up to my mom, complaining as I left the theatre. She just got this soft smile on her face. I am not sure I've ever seen that look on her face since then, and I hadn't ever seen it before. I think she tried to explain to me, but I was determined to be disappointed, “Dawn” or no “Dawn.” 

Now, I am not a “Mrs. Darcy,” or a “Mrs.” at all. But being single for awhile has taught me some things. Additionally, watching my boss with his wife has taught me a lot of things. He frequently calls her “Mrs. Darcy.” (His last name isn't Darcy, but for the sake of this post, we will pretend.)

Prime example: recently, unfortunately, his lovely spouse was diagnosed with breast cancer. She’s been a champion through the chemo, but, as is to be expected, she has ‘bad’ days sometimes. The other day, she must have been struggling a bit, because my boss came into my office and said, “Mrs. Darcy isn’t feeling so great and she wants me to make her a cookie.”  

Fine. So Mrs. Darcy wants a cookie. Big deal. There are many ways he could have responded: 

1. “You should make yourself some cookies then.” But he didn’t. 

2. “I’ll go buy you some cookies from the store after work, okay?” (It was 2 pm, and we had many, many things to do that day.) 

3. “How about I pop over to the store and get you some?”  

4. “How about you wait until after work and if you still want them, I’ll make them?” 

5. “Why are you asking me for cookies?” 

But he did none of those things. Instead, he went downstairs, got out the KitchenAid, and immediately started whipping up a batch of cookie dough…because Mrs. Darcy wanted a cookie, so a cookie she was going to have, by Jingo! He didn’t put it off, or complain. He looked at his calendar, mentally rearranged, and got the flour out, because he loves her, because he cares, and because she is Mrs. to his Mr. and he respects her, her trust, their relationship, and is a true partner to her. My heart warmed enough that he probably could have baked those cookies in it. It made me want someone who would make me proverbial cookies if I were having a bad day.  

So, Mr. Darcy, I get it. I understand now why Mrs. Darcy, hearing you call her by that title, was made “incandescently happy” by that simple luxury.  

And, I might add, that since I began writing this post, Mrs. Darcy had another round of chemo today, and she again asked for a cookie. And again, he made her cookies. This is not a one-time occurrence -- I think she must be incandescently happy, despite the chemo, to have her very own Mr. Darcy in her life.

Also, Mr. Darcy was kind enough to ask the help if they wanted a cookie, too, and generously shared. 

It made me think of the line, "My dear Lizzie, I could not have parted with you for any less." (That might be a paraphrase, but I think you still get the context.) As much as I don't like being single, I have decided that my future Mr. needs to be a maker of emotional cookies when I've had a proverbial chemo day and make a request of his time. I will do my best not to abuse it, just as I'm sure the Mrs. Darcy in question doesn't. But

Perhaps the thing I admire most about this particular Mr. is that I think he would have been pretty willing to make cookies even if Mrs. Darcy hadn't had a chemo day -- even just a regular Bad Day would be enough to provoke the thoughtful gesture. 

Here's to all the Mr. Darcys and Mrs. Darcys who work together to make married life happy.

But when it Is over...

The thing about it...my Giants did win. And I'm so glad.

The last time a home team lost in Game 7 was the year my parents got married. That was a long time ago. There have only been nine Game 7s since, including the one that was played yesterday.

The thing that always kills me, and turns me off from watching sports in general, is that losing hurts on such a greater magnitude than winning feels good. Watching the faces of the Royals...the despair, the grief, the fighting back tears...I genuinely felt gut-wrenchingly sad for them. Here they are, a tiny-market team that made it to the end of October for the first time since before I was born (also a long time ago, but not as long as my parents have been married), and they have everything they need: fast guys, awesome defense, decent starting pitchers, and stellar relief pitchers. It was right there! They could have won at home. It was so close. Just one hit, and the game could have been different. The MVP would have been different. Maybe the Chevy guy wouldn't have stuttered so bad at the awards ceremony. Who knows? The look of utter disbelief made me sad.

I will admit, the giddy hug-jump-dance at the middle of the field looks fun, so if you're a Giant, have fun, and be smart like Panda and bring goggles so you don't get champagne in your eyes. He probably learned that after the first time. Just goes to show what experience will do for you. (I honestly hope the champagne they pop everywhere is the cheap stuff. Why spray it around the locker room anyway, otherwise? I also feel sorry for the janitors. I hope the Giants paid the cleaning bill.) To lose at home and watch others prance around your home territory just seems like adding insult to injury.

Also, SF fans, what's with the two gunfights and one stabbing in "celebration?" Not cool.

But sadly for the Royals, it is, in fact, over. Wish I could have gone to a game. Also wish that I could go with my coworker JB to the parade tomorrow. Who cares about the rain? It would be fun...and I'm not even that into parades.


Side note about the 2012 Giants team: 

I had just moved to Oregon in 2012 when they went on their stat-defying run. Through the rain, through injury...they fought and fought. I had a crush on Brandon Crawford.  I trash talked with my friend who grew up in St. Louis and assured me that the Cards would beat the Giants handily. Panda's three-home-run game was epic. It seemed like they wanted it. They seemed like real people. They made mistakes, and there were nail-biting moments. The reality seemed to go in slow motion because I was drinking it all in -- I was so stressed out, having just moved, and missing Seattle and my coworkers so much I almost couldn't breathe some days.

I felt like I was a Giant...that I was going to make it through the rain, through the travel, against the stacked odds...and they won. I won. I'll remember that World Series in a way I probably won't remember any other.

It's not Over...

As I write this, there are two outs in the top of the 9th inning, nobody on. My Giants in orange and black are clinging to a 3-2 lead, riding the coattails of MadBum's iron arm and the "nitty gritty dirt band" quality of just hanging in there.

The thing that's great about baseball is that it's not over til it's over. With two outs, nobody on, there is still a chance something can happen. It's like baseball is Pandora's box. When all hope seems lost, you're not up against the clock. You're up against your mind and the strength of the pitching arm of the opposing teams. If you get on, then the thread of hope is woven with more gossamer as everyone rooting for your team starts to believe that something, anything, will happen just to keep the game alive...extend the streak...change the game. Maybe a solo home run will turn things around, or maybe four batters will get on. Or in a 93 mph blur, your hope is dashed as strike three zips by.

Now there are just three outs left in the game...game 7 of the World Series. I have seen these Giants more times live than any other baseball team, ever. I have watched almost every game this October. I have believed. I have jumped up and down. I have hung my head and turned off the tv for stretches as I couldn't handle the blowouts. I have never given up though.

That's what I love about baseball...you should never give up until Mighty Casey, or Mini Joe, strikes out. You have to be vigilant. The little things matter. But until all three outs are called, something can happen. Rally monkeys can save the day. Bobbleheads can jiggle sinisterly and do a voodoo-like dance, intimidating the other team into submission. Whatever superstitious thing you believe, or don't believe, it can probably happen in baseball...the tides can turn. They have. They will.

It's not over til it's over. Hope is real, and can be realized. Just take the 18-inning game earlier this year. I missed the first inning but hung in the rest. I was in knots. It wasn't even an elimination game like this one is. I'm rushing to type this because right now, Royals fans are hoping, wishing, aching for it to not be over. There's just one out left. MadBum's doing his thing. Life is so much like baseball.  Like, for example, someone just hit a double. There was an error. Now it turned into a triple. It's entirely possible that with just one pitch, the tide may have turned. I just wanted the game to be over. My heart is in knots.

That's the good thing about baseball...it's not over til it's over. I'm not giving up hope on my Giants. But I can't count the Royals out...not yet. It could just be one pitch away...the count is 0-2. This is insane. I feel like I'm racing against time to write this post real-time. It's exhilarating and fun.

It's just about over...but the fat lady hasn't sung. How I can't wait to hear her aria. Other times I want to stave her off. C'est la vie, and c'est la October. Maybe next October I will be on the other side...but for this October ...

Mustang (Not) Sally

I drove my first Mustang recently. I only killed it once...not the first time I started it, but after I started thinking a little too hard about what I was doing. I never did figure out to get it in reverse, but let's face it: "jazz" cars are meant to go forward, not backward!

Forward, with the top all the way down,
forward, with the wind whipping your hair;
Forward, with dark sunglasses on;
forward, the music blasting your ears
Forward! 

Not backward.

Here's hoping this Sally can sally forth and get her Mustang down the right road, going only a little too fast. (Fast enough to require all of the above, but not fast enough to get the attention of the cops.) 

Fancy Amaryllis

There's a song that's been going around the radio waves that I really don't like. The problem is that it's very catchy. The lyrics don't really make sense all the time, and when they do, you wish they didn't.

For the longest time, I thought the first line of the song was "First things, first, Amaryllis." Like the singer was addressing her friend, whose parents were flowery and also maybe not very nice because they named their child Amaryllis.

Turns out, she's saying, "First things first, I'm a realist."

I was really disappointed when I found that out.

Just like I was really glad when I found out the lyrics to "All About that Bass" were really "no treble" instead of "no trouble" like she makes it sound on the recording.

*cough* Anyway.

I was talking with my sister about growing garlic the other day. I really want to grow it because I use it and because I'm trying to grow things I eat and be a little more self-sufficient in that way. I have very limited space with which to experiment, so I have to be kinda careful, but I'm really hoping that this winter's garlic experiment will turn out to be a rousing success.

I checked out a few different books about different kinds of garlic, when to plant, what they look like, etc. And that's when I found out that garlic and amaryllis are actually in the same family. Who knew that something so beautiful and something so smelly were so closely related?

I love garlic and I've always had a special spot in my heart for amaryllis, so I was pleasantly surprised to learn of their shared genetic traits.

I'm probably the last person to figure this out, but the point is the journey, right? Now I'll never forget!

hard time etiquette

When I say, "hard time," I'm not referring to jail sentences.

I'm referring to times like when your boyfriend breaks up with you, you're having family drama, your job is shaky, one of your best friends tells you you're too needy, or you've just gotten bad news in the health department.

Some people hold all the hard time in.

I can't do that.

Not at all.

Sometimes, I really, really wish I could.

So what's a person to do when it feels like one or more life cornerstones have vanished and toppling into the abyss is looking like a very real possibility?

Here are a few things I have learned during my Hard Times, which I hope may help you if you are ever in one of these situations.

Rule number one in this day and age, if your heartache is related to any relationship, is No negative social media. None. Don't post cryptic comments condemning the perceived narcissist in your life. (It could be that the actual narcissist is YOU.) Don't post "poor me" comments and expect someone to take pity on you and ask you what the matter is. Just don't do it. It's in poor taste and I really can't recommend it. Don't even write blog posts about it! The fact is, while people love you and care about you, playing it that way really just makes you look like you're about thirteen years old emotionally. Maybe that's why sometimes I still mess up and do this -- because sometimes I feel about thirteen emotional years old.

Rule number two is related: try to fix the problems between you and the other person in your relationships with that person. Sometimes you legitimately need to talk to another person about what is happening, but chances are, if you communicate with the person directly, it will actually be easier on everybody. Being emotionally honest is hard; in the end, it will likely benefit you because then you will have dealt with the person directly, no he-said or she-said, and the other people close to you don't know all the details. This is especially hard to do with spouses or boyfriends/girlfriends. Because every time you tell a sister or mom or brother or friend something about the other person that really grated your cheese, they remember it. They might not see all the other good things the person does. So if you are considering getting back together with someone or whatever, the people you've told about your relationship's trials and tribulations will only remember the complaining that you did, and they will wonder why you're so daft as to actually think about putting yourself together with someone who did this, that, or the other thing to hurt you (or that you plain old didn't like) previously. I hate to tell you this, but this is what therapy, or strangers on airplanes are for. (I'm not trying to trivialize therapy. I'm just saying, sometimes, the point is that you tell a stranger who doesn't know any of the people involved so you can sort your feelings out by talking about it. Sometimes strangers on the plane really won't cut it -- there is no substitute for a good therapist.)

Rule number three: when someone, or a piece of bad information, does blindside you, and you feel a cornerstone is being ripped away unexpectedly, remember that it's okay to cry. It's okay to FEEL. It's okay to be mad at someone, and to tell them about it. In fact, feeling is preferable to being numb. I know it doesn't always feel that way at the time...but feelings are a blessing. It proves you're not a rock, or an island, you're a human being. Try to really feel it, ride it out, and then do everything in your power to move on. It might take a few cycles of crying or howling in rage or feeling really, really sorry for yourself, but still, do your best to move on and choose to look for ways to smile instead.

Rule four: take some time and do something nice for someone else. If you're feeling needy, try to forget yourself for awhile and think about someone else. It will probably snap you out of your doldrums and make you realize that you are not the only person with problems, thereby making you feel slightly better.

Rule five: Be quiet within yourself. Take time to be grateful for the things you have. Try not to be bitter about the things you don't have (like the fact that you're currently missing one or more cornerstones and you feel like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.). Sometimes, to get to that place of quiet, you need to exorcise the feelings in you. Writing is often the best way to do that. So write things down in a negative journal that you never go back and read. My art history teacher told me once that people are more likely to write in their journals when bad things are happening in their life. I was talking to my mom the other day and she mentioned a time that was really hard for her...my sister and I were both home for a period of a few months. Neither of us had jobs, and we were both erstwhile students. We were both sick, and so our spirits were down. We were crabby in general, and fought a lot. Mom said it was one of the hardest periods of her life to have two grown squabblers on her hands all the time. (After all, it's not really like she could put us in time out.) I don't really remember any of that. But what I do remember is that during that time, I wrote in my journal. Every day. I went through several pens and wrote a lot of nonsense. And every night as I wrote to myself, I thought, "Mr. Hall, you were right." Writing down things is good catharsis. But limit the time...don't let trying to think of the perfect way to describe your anguish take up any more mental energy. Just get it out. It doesn't have to be pretty, just get it done, and then move on.

That's a lot of rules, and it's hard not to feel like you're an exception to all the rules when you're feeling down and having a Hard Time. But hard times will pass. Just have faith, ride it out, and think, "tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it." Have feelings. Forgive yourself, and others, if necessary. People come and go in your life, and bad stuff happens. But there are many things to smile about in a day, if we just look around at the people around us.

I heard a talk awhile ago that made me think of this. I don't always like this speaker's topics, but this time, something really resonated with me and I sometimes make a joke about it as I tell people in gross understatement: "Hope ya know, I had a hard time."

beautiful things in unexpected places

Sometimes, you find beautiful things in unexpected places...a great meal in a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, an interesting conversation with someone you didn't think you liked, a flower in a vacant lot, a spot of green in the desert, one good painting in a modern art museum...the list could go on and on.

On Monday night I found something beautiful on facebook. A friend of mine made a post and for whatever reason I decided to click on it. I think that it was because a different friend on facebook shared a piece of classical music on facebook that I already knew, and so I was on the hunt for a new classical adventure. Also, I had a stressful day on Tuesday, and I think I was looking for something to help me relax. Sometimes, classical music is just what you need. 

Classical music can also sometimes just be aggravating: too many drums, too many screechy violins, too bouncy, too repetitive.

This is none of those things. I listened to about six seconds of it and was hooked. I put it on repeat and listened to it five times before I fell asleep. N, maybe your little one will particularly like it.

I share this with you because I love it. You should share things you love, things you're proud of, things that make you a better person.

Here it is:  http://www.npr.org/2014/09/21/349245154/a-pianist-hears-chopin-from-inside-his-instrument

Scroll down til you get to the Soundcloud item. Or, alternatively, try here.

Maybe you, too, will find something beautiful in this unexpected place.

The Gorge

A few weeks ago I went to the Gorge to see one of my favorite artists, Tom Petty. He brought along his band, the Heartbreakers. Click here for the review that was in the Seattle Times the next day.

Steve Winwood opened up for them. I didn't recognize most of the songs he played, but he sounded pretty good when he sang. He played his own organ. I loved how his guitar player had a big, fat smile on his face the entire time the band was playing. It made me smile, and I liked the performance so much more than I otherwise would have because of his attitude. I figured I would only know one of his songs that he played - "Higher Love" - but was surprised, because one of the first songs I learned to play in jazz band was the last number that he and his band played, "Gimme Some Lovin'." I had no idea it was his song!

There was so much energy in the performance, and his saxophone player was stellar. At one point he had two saxophones in his mouth and was playing them both, at the same time. My companion said to me, "He's like a young, short-haired Kenny G."

I stood up the entire half hour that the roadies were fiddling around with Tom Petty's instruments. They all looked like ZZ Top. I think Tom Petty put in a rider that all of his roadies had to have white beards that were at least eight inches long. Seriously. I couldn't wait for my first glimpse of him. I did try to make myself sit, thinking that I might be standing for some of the concert and I didn't want to wear myself out, but I was too nervous. And then I saw him!! He looked exactly how I thought he would, but his hair was longer, and he seemed really thin. I think he has had the pair of jeans he performed in since the 80s...I dunno. It was GREAT.

Here's the set list:

So You Want to Be a Rock 'n' Roll Star   (The Byrds cover)
From the first note, everybody was standing. I was surprised, because I didn't really recognize the song, but I liked it anyway. Tom Petty put his spin on it and it sounded amazing.

Mary Jane's Last Dance
This was about ten times better than any recording. It lasted longer, it was harder, grungier...there were elements that I could just tell: these guys are pros. They've been together, with the exception of the drummer, for longer than I've been alive.

Baby, Please Don't Go   (Big Joe Williams cover)
This reminded me of Arlo Guthrie's Pickle Song. This isn't my favorite version of the song, but it gets the point across...sort of talking singing. It made me smile.

American Dream Plan B
This was the first song he played off the new album, "Hypnotic Eye." I was totally amazed...and honestly surprised that this song was harder rock than anything of Tom's that I had ever heard before, and surprised at how much I liked it anyway. I was fully expecting to dislike anything that was new, just because I wanted him to play all my favorites...forget the new stuff! But in this case, I was glad for something untried...turns out it rang true.

Into the Great Wide Open
This song made me laugh so hard. Tom didn't speak very much during the show...he was there to perform songs, not jaw at the audience (which was over 20,000 people, I might add). But he did tell one story. He said, "I'm going to play you a song from 1991." The crowd went wild. "Oh, so that was a good year for you?" he asked. Everybody laughed. Then, "This song is the only thing I remember from that year." Everybody laughed harder. He chuckled a little at the memory and said, "We put Johnny Depp into this music video, and I'm telling you, I never met so many women in my life as I did while we were shooting that film." Then everybody cheered, and he started to play. It was so much better than the radio version...more riffs, and a lot more drums. They really had fun with it.

Forgotten Man
Off the top of my head, I don't really remember very much about this song. I think I was distracted, wondering if I would get to hear some of my favorites later in the night. Clearly, this is a Forgotten Man of a song.

I Won't Back Down   (Tom Petty song)
This was amazing. Everybody sang, as he waved at us to encourage "Hey, ah, there ain't no easy way out...Hey, ah!" It was great. I just swayed and closed my eyes and sang at the top of my lungs, which was probably pretty loud, because I had earplugs in and probably was overcompensating as a result. But I didn't care at the time, because oh, this was such a good rendition.

Free Fallin'   (Tom Petty song)
This song was so easy, I felt like I really could have fallen. It was an "across the universe" moment -- I could have been floating in a sea of tie-dye stars. Maybe that was because by that time the outdoor venue, the concert-going crowd and the fact that pot is now legal in Washington made it so I was probably high second-hand.

Tweeter and the Monkey Man (Traveling Wilburys cover)
This one, I didn't get. I've never liked it, and it was just tooooooo long. Like, ten minutes long. Maybe I could have handled six minutes, but it just seemed to take forever for me.

U Get Me High
Those of you who know me (which is my entire readership) know that part of the reason why I listened to "The Waiting" twice was because I was so entertained by how entirely stoned Tom Petty was in the music video. I mean, really, it's written all over his face. I don't know what that says about me as a person that I was entertained...I guess I was more amazed at the audacity he had to go to work completely high and have everything turn out okay anyway. Anyway, he made some joke about how yes, he did in fact note that pot is now legal in Washington, and everybody went crazy. It's true, I did practically get high from all the secondhand smoke I inhaled

Rebels   (acoustic)
He slowed this one down a lot from how I imagine he usually plays it. I did like the "hey hey heys" -- we all helped with those -- and he did have a little smile on his face the whole time. It was good...I had never heard it before. The lyrics aren't my favorite, and this wouldn't make my Tom Petty Favorites list, but I didn't hate it either.

To Find a Friend   (Tom Petty song) (acoustic)
This one, he said he hardly ever performs. From how he said it, it seemed like made him sad to sing it. I had actually never heard this before either (so much for being a true Petty fan, I guess. Just means there's more to discover!!), but I did like it, much more than Rebels. It is really a sad song, but it has a misleading upbeat quality to it. "Everything changed, then it changed again...it's hard to find a friend." So many times in my life I have felt like this. Tom Petty really has a way of putting raw emotion in deceptively simple lyrics. I think he has a genius for capturing human emotion and putting it in a context that almost anyone can relate to. That's why he has fans. It's not because he has a wonderful voice or because he is a Hendrix or a Clapton on guitar. It's because he understands what it is to be human and communicates his commiseration almost perfectly in song.

Yer So Bad   (Tom Petty song) (acoustic)
I also hadn't heard this one. I was just thinking, "These lyrics are terrible, and so sad!" as he opened up. It made me want to dance around though, during the chorus. It's not that Tom Petty was making fun of the brother in law in the song, but...in order to enjoy this song you have to get past the opening verse, which is just befuddling in its sequence of lyrics, and then just float with the song. I'm not really sure the song makes sense to me overall, but there's something fun and catchy about it that makes me want to listen again. 

Learning to Fly 
This is what I had waited for all night. All night! I knew that it was unlikely he would play "The Waiting," even though it is the song that made me a Tom Petty fan. I was disappointed, but I just told myself it wasn't going to happen and that I had to enjoy every last minute of every other song and then maybe I wouldn't be all sad and grumpy. Ladies and gentlemen, it appears I am not very good at being not sad and grumpy, but TP's rendition of "Learning to Fly" was almost enough to make me forgive the fact that I will forever be waiting for "The Waiting." 

He started out, and it was just so...amazing. I loved it. Every minute. I got goosebumps. There was something almost tender about the way he sang it that made me almost want to cry.

At the end, he had us all sing with him at the end...we sang the chorus with him probably six times, fading at the end. He sang line with us every once in awhile to make sure we knew where we were (there were some people there who definitely needed the help). I wish I had a recording. It reminded me of "Babylon" by Don McLean -- the live version where he divides them all up and has them sing parts in a round. It is so hauntingly beautiful. This was equally beautiful, but in a different way. To hear so many people singing together, each singing softly, but loud in aggregate, singing something so beautiful, I will never ever forget. It must really give Tom Petty satisfaction to know that many people will sing along with him, that they all felt the power of the song in that moment, and that he was helping making a magic moment. If you listen to the Tom Petty Live version, it sounds kind of like it, but ours was softer and slower. He could tell we all just wanted that moment to hang on forever. I can't say enough about this. Just this song was probably worth the ticket admission price alone. (And I paid a hefty price for my ticket.)

The lyrics to the song are so beautiful. They capture almost perfectly the struggle that is life -- we're all trying to rise above the mundane and sad and petty things of the world, and we're all trying so hard, but we don't have wings, and when we think we've gotten it figured out despite our wingless state, then we have to learn how to come down and accept that life isn't perfect. I can't describe it. You should just listen to the song, and then you'll know what I'm talking about.

Shadow People 
This just felt out of place for me...after the high of learning to fly, I wanted to just keep the goosebumps and energy going, and it seemed like Shadow People just went on, and on, and on, and on, and not the most wonderful way ever. There was something kind of creepy about it. Not as creepy as the "Don't Come Around Here No More" music video (not much is creepier than Alice in Wonderland turning into a cake and the Mad Hatter eating her while singing) but it was still dark and definitely not my favorite. There were a lot more cool guitar riffs and solos than are in the recorded version. It's another one off the new album. I liked the guitars in the middle, but the rest of it, I could have done without.

I Should Have Known It 
I liked the guitar at the beginning, but it became clear that instead of an Angry Girl song, this was an Angry Man song. Not like screaming metal bands, but there's definitely some anger there. I wonder how he feels playing this when he's not angry...if he just goes on autopilot, or if he gets a little riled every time because it brings back memories of what prompted him to write the song in the first place.

Refugee 
This one, I felt heart and soul. He really did a lot with dynamics on this. It just really hit me, that I don't have to be hostage to my own emotions. I don't have to keep it all inside. I can let it out by singing Tom Petty with every bit of emotion inside my being.

Runnin' Down a Dream   (Tom Petty song)
This is the one that was running through my head all the way home. It's got so much energy.  It just made me want to go run down a dream, to go after the things that I want, wholeheartedly, unapologetically...because just like the song says, the dream won't come true just because you want it to...you have to go get it. You have to work for what you want. Tom Petty worked really hard to make a good show for all of us. He probably dreams every night of having a successful show. Someone in the concert who sat in front of me yelled loudly to his concertmate that Tom Petty actually takes great pride in working hard to make sure every show is as good as it can be. He shows up, he performs, and he does what he can to make it a great night. He could just go on autopilot...he has a fan base that will forgive him for a lot of things, but he feels keenly the responsibility of putting on a good show for so many people who have paid a lot of of money and dedicated several hours worth of time to come to the middle of nowhere (the Gorge) to listen to him.

Then we yelled and cheered for a long time, waiting for them to come back. My arms hurt. I felt like my voice was going to give out. I was worried they wouldn't come back...they really made us work for that encore.

Encore:
You Wreck Me  (Tom Petty song)
 This one just makes me smile. It's so upbeat, and who can resist the "oh yeahs?"  It might have been meant to be sad in the beginning, but that's not at all how I think of it. Actually, this video I found online fairly closely approximates what we heard that night, except he built it more at the end...really cool stuff. You can tell he really just loves the music for the music.

American Girl 
Good, upbeat way to end the evening. Still wish he would have played "the Waiting" but you know, you can't have everything.

I really wish he had played "You Don't Know How It Feels." And now that I have listened to more Tom Petty, I really wish that he also would have played "Wildflowers." The live version is so wonderful. I listened to it twice today. :)

Thanks for reading my music rant. It was such a good time. Next up: Fleetwood Mac, if I can get a concert buddy!!

More Fibonacci, less paparazzi

Sometimes I wish I had better control of the things that my brain remembers. I can spot actors and remember their entire body of work within a nanosecond, but the other day, the name Fibonacci came to my mind and I was frustrated. I had the words "Fibonacci" and "sequence" linked together in my brain, and I knew that it was number-related, but I couldn't define the sequence, and it frustrated me greatly.

How come I can name three Kardashians but I can't remember things I really want to, like some sequences of a program I use at work, or anything mathematical. I had to look up the war of 1812 five years ago because I couldn't remember what the war was about...(impressment, if you've forgotten) and it just made me so upset that these things I would rather be able to recall effortlessly I can't, and things I really absolutely do not want to remember, I do. (For example, I read somewhere once three years ago that the front man of the Killers, Brandon Flowers, had a son named Alma. I DO NOT WANT to remember the name of the front man of the Killers, and while I'm sure his son is a fine person, I really don't care what his name is.)

Why does my brain do this? grrr.

food prep breakfast musings

To wake up early in the morning and make someone else hot breakfast (or peel peaches for their cold breakfast...essentially, anything that involves food prep) is the mark of true love.

Pianos in the Park

I went on a piano safari on Saturday. A few friends and I traipsed through Seattle. It made me almost hurt to walk through all the places I used to frequent, knowing that I wasn't just a few minutes from home, but that I had to go back across the lake. There are lots of good things about where I live now, but I definitely miss my time in the city.

 

We started at the Seattle Center, and I think this was my favorite of the lot. With the cityscape and Mt. Rainier, as well as the moon in the sky exactly how it might be, it's a beautiful work of art. 

Next we went to Denny park, where we saw the KEXP piano. It looked a little like it came from Venus.  -->


<-- Then we went to Westlake Park, which has nothing green in it except perhaps 420, and saw the most underwhelming painted piano ever (painted as a piece of art, anyway). I felt like a five year old could have been more inspired. Also, the person sleeping behind me could have been more inspired in his (or her? it was a little hard to tell) choice of equilibration location.

We also made a stop at AllSaints. I'd never been in, but the sewing machines are pretty cool. Bucket list item crossed off! Another bucket list item is to see the traveling goats in action. People in Seattle rent out goats and then the goats eat all the blackberries and brambles and stuff and then the people who had stuff they wanted gone are happy because the goats do their job.

Then we went down to the pier (we had an adventure; we went the wrong way). I got fun of because I said the restaurant name it was by "eye-vahrs" instead of "eye-vers." Not funny, especially since one of the people I was with called the market "Pike's place." It is NOT Pike's place. The market is at Pike. It is not possessive!
The piano there looked like it might fit better in South Lake Union, what with all the computer parts it had on the side of it. I thought they were supposed to be a map -- it almost looked like a map of the city...but I was assured that it was "just a tree." We investigated the piano more and then it started to really pour. It actually hailed in some places. It was weird, because I heard the thunder, but I thought it was the Blue Angels (since they were in town), and then thought, "But it's too early for the Blue Angels to be flying." Yep, I was right. Just really beastly thunder even though it was really sunny outside. In fact, see to the left how sunny it actually was. Those white specks are actually raindrops. falling. Big, cold ones. They made a line, like paint, along the overpass we were walking under. (See above.)



While at the waterfront we investigated the boats that were in town for Seafair. The gun on the deck holds 5" shells. That's about what I thought it could, but it doesn't really seem like something in a 5" could really do that much damage. Except it occurred to me that due to physics, having a ginormous gun doesn't really do anything for you except in close proximity anyway, so in that respect, perhaps 5" is best. They had a line to take a tour of the boat, but I wasn't willing to wait in it, as it was about an hour and a half long at that point, and some times of the day, the Navy guy on the pier told us, had waits of up to 3 hours. I informed my companions that the ships looked like alients. They actually kind of do...robots. Look at all that equipment on them. I wonder how old they are. Each ship holds about 300-400 people on a regular basis, and it doesn't seem like they're that big. I wonder how many feet below water their plimsoll marks are.

Then we went to City Hall (the piano is, in fact, at City Hall, and not at City Hall park. It actually made me sad to walk through that part of Seattle..Pioneer Square is really dilapidated. It could be so vibrant! But it's overrun by homeless people and it really doesn't feel safe at all. I actually thought the figure on the side of the piano was a unicorn and not a man, at first glance. Maybe I just had unicorns on the brain...

The last park we went to was Hing Hay park. Someone playing the erhu had handwritten a sign saying "Piano closed between noon and 2pm." We honored the sign, but I thought it was really lame and not very well done.

All in all, it was a good excursion. And we even helped some lost teachers find their way to the Seattle Center on the way back, and I got to cross something else off my list: riding the monorail!

"Stars"

I used to drive to Mercer Island fairly frequently, and I would always marvel at the unique tone of light in the sky over Lake Washington that you see at the time the sun goes down. When I moved away, I knew it would be one of the things I missed most.

One of the things that I liked about living in suburbia was that I could see the stars. City living isn't exactly conducive to stargazing, you know. So I thought I would miss the stars.

Lately I was doodling along on the interwebz and I came across this link. At first I was incredulous, and my reaction was immediate indignation that Simon would roll his eyes, and then they started singing, and I was blown away. I just wish all the screaming girls would be quiet so I could have heard the 'faultlessness' of their performance.

Here, for your listening pleasure:

I don't remember ever hearing this song before. As soon as they started singing, I knew it had to be from a musical, but for the life of me, I had no idea which one. I've probably watched the video five times, and I still get goosebumps every time. They're just so....young, hopeful...sincere. I hope they keep their innocence and stick to their guns.

I watched it earlier tonight, and then I went outside to water my tiny garden, I looked up, a smile on my face. Night is my favorite time here. I love stepping out on my balcony, sensing the quieting of the world. The air is still and almost sweet. There's a summertime tang that I love. I straightened from watering, and there it was: the Big Dipper. Low, clear, right in my line of vision. Immediately, a smile was on my face, and I thought about the line, "you are the sentinels, silent and sure, keeping watch in the night. you know your place in the sky, you hold your course and your aim, and each of your seasons returns and returns, and it's always the same." It's not always the same...every season is different, and the Big Dipper looks different depending on where you are. Tonight, I was just grateful that I could see the stars at all. I had a bad day, and was feeling pretty blue. But then I thought, you can see the stars. Things will get better.

I hope I'm right, and that things do get better, and that I can hold my course and my aim as I go through this season of change.

THE WAITING is the HARDEST PART

I'm going to see Tom Petty. And Steve Winwood. But really, I'm going to see Tom Petty. Outside. In the lovely Seattle summer.

This is awesome...and the waiting is really going to be the hardest part. I'm not sitting in the pit, but in row 23. On my checklist of things to bring: the ticket, earplugs, and a smile that would deafen if it could talk.

That is all.

book family

My niece and nephew came to see me recently. Because my sister and I grew up in the same house, we have some of the same books...some similar sets of memories from having the same source of reading material.

Personal libraries are important...seeing what books people have lets me know their taste and books make me comfortable. If I go to someone's house and see books I know on the wall, it's almost like I have friends at the party, even if I don't know a single person there.

Which is why it gave me so much pleasure that my niece and nephew felt so comfortable at my house. There were books that were familiar to them -- books they instantly recognized -- and they also had some new books to choose from. That's the beauty of books, of sisters, of nieces and nephews, and a shared book pool back in the day.

I love books, and I love my family. And I love how both can make me comfortable, touch me in ways I never thought possible, and push me to think of new ideas.

evolution

When I was in college, having "no food in the house" meant having no bread or milk.

When I lived in LA, having "no food in the house" meant having no Cheerios, hummus, or pita bread.

When I lived in Seattle, having "no food in the house" meant having no bell peppers, no fruit, or any frozen dinners to take to work with me.

When I lived in Oregon, having "no food in the house" meant having no Fage Total yogurt, butter, granola, or onions.

And now, having "no food in the house" means having no berries, no avocados, and no green onions.

So you see, evolution is a real thing. In college, I used to have all the ingredients to make cookies in case I ever decided on a whim to whip up a batch. In LA, I wanted to always have enough muffin papers to make myself a sunday morning muffin treat. In Oregon, buttermilk biscuits were my baking "treat." And now, I don't really bake at all.

summer salad adventures

I'm eating lots of salad this summer.

Lots.

I seem to have a particular fixation on taco salad. I blame Peeks, because whenever we got together for dinner, we'd either have pizza (Papa John's, at her request; chicken bacon bbq pineapple onion) or taco salad that we made ourselves, because apparently, there is no good taco salad joint in all of P-town suburbia.





Above are two salads:

L: Taco Salad Extraordinaire: Special Chili Edition
1/2 orange pepper
2 oz cheddar cheese, grated
1 cob's worth of corn
4 oz lettuce
4 oz crock pot southwestern black bean chili
1/2 avocado
2 green onions
Salsa, to taste (I love Emerald Valley mild. It's the yummiest thing ever. Ever. I will go out of my way to buy it...and that's saying something.)
chips, on the side

R: Curry Jumble Salad
1 carrot
1/2 small yellow summer squash
1/2 small zucchini
3 chicken tenders
1 tsp south african style curry (sweet? mild?)
1/4 cup milk
4 oz greens
1 dash poppy seeds
1 medium onion
salt, to taste

(basically, cook the onion and the chicken together and put the spices on it. I did mine in butter. Then add the carrots, then zucchini and summer squash. Then add the milk to keep everything from drying out.) You know...in typical jumble style.

Both are yummy. YUMMY, I tell you!

I wish I had more energy. I would cook lots more often.  I need new cooking ideas. The problem is that I usually have to see somebody do something before I can incorporate it into my own. That means I need to have lots of dinner invites where I see the prep actually happen. Thanks to all the wonderful cooks who have helped me stumble along the path to good food.

I'm going to try something new soon...and when I do, I'll post it.

unexpected yum

There are things that I unexpectedly like: for example, recently I discovered that I love green onions. I love them. I want to eat them every day. So I do, because I can.

Yesterday I stuck them in my tuna avocado (which I wrote another post about). Just my tuna avocado salad, because I rarely eat sandwiches anymore. (It's not a conscious thing, it's a listening to my body thing, but that's another post for another day.) The combination was delicious.

The summer I lived at Grandma and Grandpa's house, JT and I had an onion adventure. There were green onions growing that were three feet high. I wonder how yummy they would have tasted, if I had been brave enough to try them.

People who know me also know that I love cucumber soda, by Dry. Mixed with strawberry lemonade or by itself, it's probably my favorite drink besides water. Definitely, it's my favorite "treat" drink. A visiting teacher once gave me a bottle of it. I wondered if it was some sort of sick joke, but I stuck it in the fridge anyway and then one time I was really wanting something and it was pretty much the only thing in the fridge. So I drank it. I'm sure my face contorted, but I kept drinking it, and by the end of the bottle, I guess you could say I had been converted.

Yay green onions. Yay cucumber soda. Yay all sorts of other good things that I haven't discovered yet. Yay to yummy things.

sidekick vs psychic

One of my dearest friends in this whole world took me on an adventure in the boonies of Oregon. I have to say, since it was on the west side of the mountains, at least they were pretty boonies and not all dried up. I mean, dried up has its pretty moments, but as someone who grew up in a desert, I really do appreciate the green. This picture was taken in February.

Peeks took me to see her brother and his family. They were warm and generous and fed me yummy dinner. It was also quite entertaining, as they have six kids under nine years old. It took me a few minutes just to be able to sort out their names. One of the little boys obviously had a crush on me. Haha. I remember those days.

Anyway. My friendship with Peeks has taught me something that I knew in my heart, but that I had never consciously realized. When you love someone fully, you love all parts of them. I don't mean that you love everything they do, or that you are happy all the time. What I mean is that to love someone, to really let them in, is a choice, and you have to choose to put all your chips in the pot. No ante-ing up anymore. Go big, or go home. No reservations.

I've never met anyone like Peeks. She draws people to her. I've never met anybody who didn't like her. She's fun and fun-loving. She's generous and kind. She is concerned about how other people feel, and goes out of her way to make people comfortable. She's insightful and curious, and loves adventures and to make people laugh. She's had a lot of hard things happen to her in her life, and a lot of challenges, but she can almost always find something to laugh about. She's a great listener. When she's with you, she's really with you. She's not playing on her phone, or thinking about something else, or wishing she was somewhere else. She gets wrapped up in the moment and totally loses track of time. This is wonderful when you are the person she's with. When you're the person who's next in line for her attention, it's not always so easy to love that quality about her, and one time, when I was in that position -- the position of being Next on her list, I got really frustrated because I felt like I really needed her and she was putting someone else first. For hours. And I needed her! I needed her badly. I was out of joint for awhile, but then, as I was waiting, and waiting, and what felt like waiting more, I realized that she had been there for me many, many times. And probably, for some of those times, someone else was waiting for her, like I was waiting for her at that moment. And that probably other people had been frustrated because I literally hogged all her time.

In that moment of frustration and irritation, I told myself, "you love her. You love this dear Peeks of yours. Yes, you're upset about this. Yes, you wish she would just get here already. But think about how often she has been there for you, when you needed it most; listened to you, when her back was aching; taken time to love you when she probably really would have rather been in bed." And that's when I realized that I could be mad, or I could be loving. If I was going to really love her, I needed to love that quality about her, and accept that she wasn't always going to be there at exactly the time when I wanted her, because she was probably off helping some other person feel good about themselves. I needed to appreciate her for her ability to heal people. In short, I needed to love her wholeheartedly in spite of this one attribute that was so beautiful when I had access to it, but was so annoying when I wanted it and couldn't have immediate gratification, even if we had planned for me to have gratification at a certain time and location, and the agreed upon time had passed.

Once I accepted this, I felt lots better. I was more patient. I tried to consider all the other people that she was helping, who needed her, whether they realized it in the moment or not. Because she's a beautiful person, inside and out. She cares and loves with everything that's in her. I decided I wanted to be more like her in that way -- the way of truly looking outside yourself and listening closely.

Peeks and I are kindred spirits. I tell people I'm her sidekick. Apparently I need to learn to enunciate, because people always think I'm saying, "I'm PK's psychic" instead of "I'm PK's sidekick."  We were fast friends from almost the moment that we met...we had an instant bond. She helped me through a lot of things I was going through, without being judgmental. She listened, and she loved. (With me, those two often go hand in hand.)

Loving fully isn't always easy. But I've learned that sometimes you just choose to love someone, and then when your choice is made, you stick with it, no matter what, even when things aren't always easy. As long as you know they love you back and they'll be there for you when you really, really need them, people's true love can see you through ups and downs in relationships.

Love is a beautiful thing. It's a choice. It's a blessing. It is real, and it is a gift. It's not always easy, but practicing real love - love that is kind, unfeigned, unsarcastic, and true - is one of the most satisfying things you can choose to partake of. I knew this about family members, and other people in my life, but I never really realized how much of it was up to me until I met Peeks. So thank you, lovely lady, for showing me one more way to have happiness in my life.

family time in late spring

My sister and her family came to stay with me for a weekend a couple of weekends ago. The weather was lovely, and we had a great time.

On Friday, we went to the water and hung around. We had a great time splashing about. The kids waded, and I dipped my toes in. There were ducks with purple iridescent heads and lots of little kids running around. The sun was hot and the water was cold.

We went out for Chinese, which was actually really good -- lots of different tastes. But then one of my least favorite dining experiences happened: they literally forgot about us at the end. I kept trying to catch the waitress' eye and almost went over and said something. It's true that they were really busy, but it was ridiculous how long we sat there. I felt like it was long enough that they should have been paying *me* and I completely did not succeed in enjoying the moment and not being bugged by it, as you can see evidence of, unfortunately.

After reading Scrambled Eggs Super, we went to bed, and didn't get up until the next morning, when we had eggs and bacon and blueberries with our Cheerios. Then we all trundled into the car and went to the waterfall. The kids didn't really want to go, but I think they were glad they went in the end. We had a good time taking pictures and found at least six different kinds of berries on the way down.

The waterfall is beautiful. The last time I was there, it was in September, and it had a very different feel. Also, we couldn't walk down the little path, because it was closed. But it was a good time, and I'm glad we went.

Here are some family photos (above) and some photos of the waterfall (below). The spray was nice and cool, and there was actually a double-rainbow, but the camera lens doesn't pick it up very well. The elevation of the falls is approximately 270'.

I wondered how old the tree that got stuck at the top was before it got sent down the river. Then I wondered if they put it there on purpose, as, if you look closely, it appears that the tree is being held up by the electrical wires. I dismissed that idea, and then set about trying to determine how tall the tree was, but my proportional geometry failed me and I said "big enough" and gave up.

Later, after lunch at a cafe, in which I determined that it is better to get a hamburger or breakfast at a family diner/cafe instead of Asian-inspired salad (one would think I would not have had to learn this lesson, but apparently my desire to believe in diner salads hasn't yet been sufficiently quashed), we played Pandemic a couple of times and then, after Princess Furball, we went to bed. It makes me glad that my friends and I have hauled all my picture books everywhere...now I can share them with the people I love. :)