What happens in…Cleburne

As I lay here on my hotel bed at the Comfort Inn – in Cleburne, TX, I realize I should be fast asleep considering, I didn’t sleep much the last 2 nights, but alas, here I am...

I figured as interesting as a month as its been and all the places I’ve been to lately, I should fill y’all in (that’s Texas speak for “you all”).

To begin the month, I took a lovely trip to LV, NV w/ my good friend Kate, her twin, her brother-in-law and a couple other peeps.  It was a 30th b-day/accounting conference that drew them, and me, there.  We stayed at the Bellagio, gambled at O’Shea’s…(a classy joint w/ cheap drinks and $5 tables), ate at Caesars and danced at Light (though not IN the light, as i was grateful since wine and beer do not mix and I found those mints and perfume in the bathroom to be lifesavers!).  Either way, it was a great trip getting to hang out with Kate and lay in the sun .

As I said at the beginning, I’m currently in the middle of Texas, auditing and eating to satisfy the growing food baby in my tummy (its a vicious cycle, but someone has to partake in it!). I flew on Sunday (after a frustrating realization that my drivers license was at home and a panicked call to Kim to rescue me – she obliged!! ), only to get air sick from the previous nights drinking and bumpy storms – to land in Dallas and discover, it was only I who landed and not my luggage (for the SECOND TIME!).  This time – I got clothes out of it…clothes from Forever21 that are too big, but will make due for going to the client.  I met up with a friend from Oregon for dinner…how is it that a person can be hundreds of miles from home and SUDDENLY find the time to catch up with a friend? Either way, it made for an enjoyable evening of catching up and laughing at our odd mutual friends (no offense).

That led to a night of fitful sleep, followed by a long day at work, and a night of studying. (Food was in there, but my body does not want to think about that now.) I will be here a couple more days, to fly home on Thursday, take a test Friday mid-day, go to Pirates w/ Karissa, to the Boiler Room with co-workers, pack Saturday and leave that afternoon for Chicago…thank God for vacation!! – it can’t seem to get here soon enough!

Anyway, if you have missed out on my daring adventures lately, I am sorry.  And hopefully, this will remind you I do exist still and why at times I feel non-existent in my own life.

At times like these, I really appreciate my father

Tonight, upon coming home from work, I decided that it was time… Time to mow the lawn gasp! :-O After spraying the NUMEROUS weeds in my front yard, I went in search of the extension cord & found it! Now mind you, I grew up in a fairly traditional house – my dad did the majority of the yard work and took care of the maintenance & cars, while my mom kept us fed and clean. My job was… well, to avoid household chores at ALL costs.

Upon purchasing & moving into my very own house (see other household issues at “I would go home with the stranger again”), I acquired a beautiful little yard & what I now lovingly call “the jungle”(1600 sq ft of pure bark dust & weeds) as a back yard. My father gave me his old electric mower – a simple machine really. My first “lawn mowing” experience came last summer – when the concept was new, fresh and still rather fun. I even had an audience (much to my chagrin)! The homeless lady who roams the street must have thought I was amusing as I awkwardly shoved this mower around my yard. So needless to say, I’ve got an idea of how this whole thing works by now.

And tonight (probably to procrastinate from studying) I decided that after a long winter – the lawn must be mowed. Which was no small task considering the ground was still fairly soft and the yard was “kinda” long (my mower has one setting – low). As I shoved through it, cursing the neighbors who let their dogs crap in my yard, I now understood why my father hated the cats in our neighborhood who were lazy enough to crap on top of the lawn). I avoided shooting crap at myself and am hoping that I don’t find it in the crevises of my shoes, fingernails or hair.:-P

I pushed and pulled the mower around for a good 30 min (stopping every once in awhile to clean out the shreds of grass – hoping that crap wasn’t all over them) I finally accomplished my task – the lawn was breathtaking, actually this is because I have allergies and COULDN’T breathe. And I’m sure the old people across the street got their amusement (again) for the month!:-D

Everyone would be able to appreciate my accomplishment, as grass clippings were shot about every way possible. As I wheeled this orange contraption back to its home – I left a grass-stain trail along my driveway (as I tried to shake loose the clippings that were matted to the inside – because I was NOT sticking my hands in that – I knew where it had been).

I trudged up to the house, remembering to remove my shoes (Karissa JUST swept) and got the broom. I’m not sure WHAT I was thinking, but when I went back out – I decided not to put my shoes back on. So, barefoot and with a broken broom I swept my driveway & sidewalk (actually I just moved clippings from one spot to another – I’m hoping nature takes care of the rest)… by the end my feet were of course matted in clippings & I still couldn’t breathe – don’t worry I cleaned my nose out the way I learned from my daddy as well – by plugging one nostril & blowing.:-P

I wiped them and walked gingerly to my tub to rinse them off (knowing my father would be sorely disappointed at my choice to sweep the outdoors barefoot)… mmmm shit covered grass off my feet… I’m clean now and think I’ll have some dinner – but I’m really not up for salad.

Moral of the story: Keep your dads around – they are worth more than their weight in gold!

You know what really grinds my gears (pt 2)

You know what really grinds my gears, besides the fact that I am writing this on my iPhone because work has now blocked wordpress and a few select other blogs (how on earth am I supposed to read SmittenKitchen.com!!)? No, what irks me is hair salons. Now, I’ve unfortunately come to accept that a cut is $40 and a partial weave runs around $75-$80. Now I already drag out getting my hair done as long as possible to avoid these costs, but after 4 months or so i’ve forgotten the pain and am ready to fork out the cash (not to mention I hate tipping, you basically add the cost of another haircut, all for work they are already paid to do!).

A month or so ago, I was ready to take the plunge. I found a place in Ballard, made the appt and the day before, they called to confirm – and just before we hung up she asked if I would be ok paying cash, as their credit/debit machine was down. What?! Are you freakin’ kidding me?! No, I’m sorry I don’t carry $150+ cash with me. So I cancelled the appt.

Luckily I found another place in Ballard, called Source Salon and Spa, and they were able to accommodate me the next day. Their website listed a price of $40 for a cut and $75 for a partial weave/ $95 for a full. Ok, I can handle that (well, I’ve told myself I can at least).

After 2 and a 1/2 hours, I was finally being shown the products I could purchase and to the counter to pay. My stylist tells me that if I want, I can come in and get a trim if I need it before my next cut.

My bill is totalled and “that comes to $160″. WTF!??!?!??!!!! Seiously, that was $45 more than I’d expected to pay!! But what’s a girl to do, the deed has already been done and I assumed I read the website wrong. (I checked, and while I didn’t read it wrong, there was an annoying little + sign after each price…a$$holes)

So I figure I am DEFINITELY going back for a trim and it better not cost anything! I just got off the phone with the girl. It just so happens that the guy who cut my hair doesn’t work there… No trim then. (i have had terrible luck finding a stylist i like, the 2 i have have both left the salons, and i have no idea where they are now)

She, of course, offers me to someone else. I ask how much (not wanting sticker shock again) and she tells me $60. I tell her the web says $40, does anyone charge that? She says most are $60 and doesn’t offer to put me with someone cheaper. She told me, since I was a client of Emmett’s, they are giving 50% off for going with someone else.

So I went for it, but as I’m writing this I think I’m going to cancel. It just seems outrageous. Hasn’t anyone told salon’s we’re in a recession and most people are trying up cut back?! And at what point do they stop upping their fees by $20?? It seems they’ve got a little “price fixing” going on amongst good salons. And while I’d go to a cheaper place, the last time I did I got an odd chunk taken out of my hair, so I feel stuck between a rock and a hard place (that’s what she said , at least I still have my sense of humor).

And that is what really grinds my gears on this beautiful Friday afternoon.

Short & Silly

As I was pulling into work this morning, I turned off my car and thought, oh, I should lock it now, so I can put my keys in my purse and have one less thing to hold.
I was still in my car at the time

WARNING: Watching Flight of Conchords may be hazardous to your health!

After watching Flight of the Conchords at Hillary’s this weekend, I decided I must have it.  So, after knitting on Sunday, I went to Fred Meyer’s to impulsively buy season 1.  They didn’t have it.  Not to fear, Amazon.com has everything, I’d just order it on Monday.

Monday came, and I remembered to look into getting the show – I checked out the “shopping suggestions” on Google to see if I could get it in a store close by, but then figured Amazon.com was cheaper and they ship quickly.  I put it in my cart and realized $19.99 wasn’t going to get me to free shipping – damn! What else do I need?!  *Light Bulb!* Maybe I can get groceries from Amazonfresh and put the show in my order!!  So I went through planning my meals and added the movie, making sure I could get to the $75 for free shipping (plus, I got free milk and Cougar cookies!).  Woohoo!  I gotta say, great benny to living in Seattle – Amazon Fresh – it’s pretty amazon-azing

Of course mydelivery came mid-workout, so I was all out of breath (yes, the delivery took my breath away).  And, to my delight, Flight of the Conchords was there!  (I put my order in at 10:30 and I got the movie at 6:45…um, yeah – that should blow your socks off, if you’re not already amazon-azed , sorry had to do it)

I decided to put the show on when I started to make dinner.  No problems yet, though I was missing half of it, as I can’t see the tv from the kitchen (*hint* hint* Morgie, I really want a portable dvd/tv combo for the kitchen!).  But when Morgan got home, he wanted to start over the season, so I got a double dose of Jemaine & Bret and hearing theme song again! hehe, I love it!

The oven timer beeped in the middle of the episode, so since I’d seen bits and pieces, I told Morgan not to pause.  (play-by-play, or step-by-step – haha, that was a funny show, loved the Code-man!)

1. Open the oven,

2. Look back at the show and why Morgan’s laughing,

3. Grab the hot-pad,

4. Look at the show,

5. Stick hands in oven,

6. Pull hands out quickly, as I realize I stuck them up too high and I think I hit the top burner,

7. Stare at hand trying to figure out what just happened,

8. Say to Morgan, “I think I just burnt myself”,

9. He’s too into the show to really hear me the first time,

10. I say in a little more panicked of a voice, “I really think I burnt myself bad, what does a 3rd degree burn look like?!”

11. Morgan pauses the show and comes to look,

12. Morgan starts to get me a bowl of water to put my hand in, “Touch it” he says (hahahaha), “if it hurts then it’s a burn”

13. I do, and it doesn’t hurt, in fact, I don’t really feel it at all

14. We decide it’s just a scrape.  And he gets the food out of the oven.

15. I continue to stare at my hand – the skin from my pinky finger has been “scrapped” back to reveal who knows how many layers down, there is no blood

Sorry the image is blurry - self portrait.

 

 

16. I serve up dinner, we go back to watching the show.

17. OWWWWWW! It’s BURNING HOT! (apparently my nerves weren’t feeling anything for awhile)

18. I retrieve the water, Morgan uses my iPhone to look up “care for burns”, Morgan says, can you put the skin flap back over the hole?

19. Ummm, Morgan, the skin is melted to my finger, I can’t move it.

20. With my hand in the bowl, we continue to watch the show, yes, I know, the phone said that you’re supposed to seek immediate medical attention, well, isn’t laughter the best medicine?!  And plus, I come from the family that after grandma fell, we all sat down to eat before taking her to the hospital to find out she broke her hip…not to worry, it was HER stubborn decision to have Christmas dinner!

The pain is much better today, it was off and on searing last night.  It looks pretty nasty, and I’m keeping neosporin on it.  I have also put a ban on my use of the oven.  After melting my contact at Christmas-time when getting baked potatoes out, I think my oven privledges should be revoked.  We’ll see how much cooking we can get done by stove-top (don’t worry, we take the battery out of the smoke detector, stove-top cooking creates all sorts of its own issues to deal with, and listening to the smoke detector is not one I can handle well)!

Ma’am, we need to take a look in your bag…

I was in a super-bloggy minded mood yesterday, but due to my extreme tiredness from being white trash, I napped instead.  So here I am, on my lunch break, trying to regurgitate my own thoughts :-S

After partying hard on Saturday night (thanks Jay!), I had to get up too early – which for me happens on a daily basis – for a morning flight back to Seattle.  See I’m taking this knitting class, and well, since I’m still such a newbie, I figured I’d better make it as I needed the practice.  So up I arose at 7am, I slowly made my way to the shower, as I even smelled white trash, like I lived in a trailer with no water.  

Pre-funking at Nordy's

My dirty “tan” mostly washed away, and after 2 shampooings and scrubbing my face with lots of soap – most of the makeup and hairspray was gone.

Hil seemed to be worse-off than me, and requested that I drive myself to the airport and hopefully she’d feel better enough on the drive back.  Ok, well let me just get some water in me and we’re good to go.   We arrived at the airport in perfect time (8am for my 8:30 flight), and I hopped out with my bags to head to the security line.

I’m getting pretty used to going through this line, and have a permenantly packed liquids bag (a nice one that came with my suitcase) and I try to wear slip on shoes and no belts.  I come up to the short security line (thank goodness!) and there is a man, handing out ziplock bags.  He asks me if I would like one, and I say, no thanks.  He then asks if my old one is wearing out and if I would like a new one :-S hmmm, it’s 8am, and I’m still groggy from the bottle of wine, 2 shots and beer from the previous night.  I debate whether I should tell him I have a permanent one, not really knowing how to describe it at that time,  I decide on, “no, I’m fine” and walk to the PDX-SEA shuttle line.

As I approach this line, choosing to NOT go behind the old lady and getting frustrated over people’s inability to STILL not have this process down (it’s been what, 8 years?!).  Grab your bins and move forward people!  Little sleep = little patience.  I get my stuff in (that’s what she said) and shove it forward, nothing goes off (… hehehehe) as I go through the metal detector – and I proceed to wait for my stuff to come along.

As they moved the conveyor belt back-and-forth, and the TSA lady called over a co-worker, I begin to think, oh no, there’s still just a little bit of liquid left in my wine rack and they need to take a look.  Seriously, this is going to be kinda embarrassing to explain.

The lady pulls me and my bag off, and she gives me the “don’t touch anything” speech and begins digging – not headed toward the bra at all… hmm, I wonder, should I just give it up and tell her its right in front of her?  She then tells me they saw an aerosal can and asks where it might be.  Oh THAT’S all! **SIGH**  I couldn’t remember exactly where I’d put the Sally Hansen spray-on legless tanner – but TSA found it.  I told her I didn’t really care about it, but she said since it was only “just over the limit” she’d let me by this time. (great security, huh?)  Sweet, I still have my $14 bottle of tanner – which, I’m sure I’ll be able to use again and again, right?

I laughed to myself as I walked away, glad I didn’t get my wine rack confiscated.  And for those of you who have not seen the beauty that is the wine rack, you can check it out here https://www.thebeerbelly.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=200-007.  I’d like to say I looked that good in it, but I’d be lying.  And pouring it in your mouth in such a subtly hot fashion doesn’t really work either, I think sometimes I got more wine dripped on me, than in me… 

Anyway, I made it safely to my knitting class, all in one piece and I survived it to go home and veg-out to Family Guy.:)  All in all a great weekend, sans the crazy TSA people;-).

Sh*t Happens

I know, you may be thinking “oh this is going to be about the bad things that happen in life and Natalie’s thoughts on them”, well I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re wrong. It won’t even be even the little most bit philosophical.

The other month, I started thinking back about my childhood, especially knowing I was going to get to see my Aunt Claudia at my cousin’s wedding. I hadn’t seen her for a few years, which is such a tragedy, because, growing up, I (along with Karissa & Sheena) used to spend weeks of the summer at her house. It was always the best time and she definitely brought out my right-brain-ed-ness.

As a kid, it felt like the longest drive ever to get to her house, and it was inevitably dark by the time we were driving that long road along Black Lake in Olympia to get to the very last house on the road. Remembering those summers, being taught to draw, paint, and make pottery. Also, spending time at a local Saturday market while Claudia would sell the dishes she’d made brings back lots of memories.

Reflecting on this time brought happy thoughts, until suddenly this strange one crept in. I remember being at the market one Saturday, amongst the grassy area as my aunt was packing up… I was walking around with my cousins playing in the sun as we were waiting. I remember seeing something curious on the ground, what an interesting stick. Hmm, maybe I should pick it up… the next thing I remember is that I was being stopped just in time before picking it up… my supposed “odd” looking stick was dog poop.

Yes, I think I was that child. The one who somehow inevitably found the one pile and either stepped in it or had a close call with it none-the-less. Must have been why my parents were always telling me to “check my shoes”.

Another close encounter I remember is a time when I went on a walk with my grandma; we often took walks around the place she lived. And I remember passing by something and I think I actually touched it…because I seem to remember having to walk home with my hand out from me, fingers trying to stay far apart from each other with this feeling of grossness about the whole situation. That “rock” totally fooled me! I could be wrong though. If it wasn’t that time, then there must have been some other time that I remember getting my hand in some crap (and by that, I don’t mean meddling in my friends lives).

More recently though, my poop encounters have involved birds. I’ve been crapped on… twice. Of all the bodies in this world and all the clean car targets – why me?!? Do I look like a pooh magnet? Have I not outgrown that childhood attraction? The first such time was in Mexico, at a park where we’d stopped to eat lunch. We all knew a truck carrying fresh fish was headed our way, the seagulls signaled it from a mile away. And when they passed by, one happened to feel the call of nature and relieved himself on my arm. Gross, and it had to be in Mexico where you had to pay for the restroom… luckily someone had hand sanitizer and no hole burned through my arm (you know, cuz if it gets on your car it can like eat through paint or whatever… last thing I wanted was that on my arm!).

I think of the movie “Under the Tuscan Sun” when Diane Lane gets pooped on and the little old lady says it is a good sign. Who knows, maybe from all my crappy experiences I am really being blessed…

The last time I was “blessed” happened to be at another unfortunate time. It was an overnight Deschutes rafting excursion for Kenny’s 25^th birthday. Our rafts all stopped at a spot to use the bathroom, eat a bit and relax. Walking around talking with people as normal, a sudden oddly wet sensation came over me. No, I had not peed my pants – it was bird poop – on my head. Yes, the first day of the 2 day trip and I have bird crap, in my hair. No showers, no running water (other than the Deschutes) and I smell like bird doo. Amber laughed (obviously – it was a funny situation), and I attempted to dunk the crown of my head into the water to “rinse off”.

I have been clean for almost 2 years now, no odd incidents, no run ins, no “blessings” (though I’m pretty sure the bird was aiming at me when it hit Morgan’s shirt that one time…). I’m knocking on wood as I say this (and I really did just knock on my desk) – one day, I’m sure it will happen again when I least expect it… cuz sh*t happens.

At peace.

As I’m laying here on the lounge chair, gazing at the sun behind the palm trees, I can’t help but want to write, hoping to try and describe this feeling of complete peace and relaxation that has come over me. It is so peaceful and still, almost as if it’s a magical world. The breeze is light and rustling the trees, the birds are chirping and I sometimes get glimpses of hummingbirds twittering around. Even the sound of the golfers is calming. I think Morgan and I may just never go home.

Our morning began early, early by most everyone’s standards – 4:30. But we were out the door by 5 as planned to get to the airport for our 7am flight – on standby of course. We had no trouble acquiring seats and were soon off for the 2hr flight to La Quinta, only the second time we’d ever been.

It’s an odd phenomenon to get on a plane and in less than the time it takes to drive to Portland, we were in a different world, one in which coats and gloves were not required. These new flight benefits of mine, truly are priceless (and I mean that literally) and then to have a place to stay, what more could one ask for?! A car? Oh wait, that was at the airport waiting for us as well!

The house is as beautiful as I remember it to be, but this time the weather was much more appreciated:-). Since arriving, we have done nothing more than make margaritas, eat homemade guacamole and laze around. Going between watching the golfers, reading our books and napping (I feel as if I am getting a small glimpse into Cale and Angelique’s lives over the past 5 months).

I have gotten to pick a bunch of fresh, HUGE lemons from the Fowler’s lemon tree and have plans to attempt lemonade later. When we venture out from the house, I’ve been longing to pick some fresh grapefruit as well.

We may not end up at the outlets as I had originally hoped, as I can’t convince Morgan of the necessity to drive for an hour to do so. But we will eventually eat dinner and hopefully get the hot tub heated up for an even more relaxing end to an already relaxing day.

Who knows what tomorrow may hold, but if it’s anything like today, I say bring it on! I feel so spoiled to get to take part in this and will gladly accept the lemons life hands me.

Alarming!

So every morning is pretty much the same routine for me… snooze for awhile, finally get up and get ready and try to make it out the door by 7:30am (at the latest). Some days, it is earlier, and lately, its mostly been later. Which sucks, because 15min makes the commute hairier.

This morning was much the same, I was for sure running late as the kitchen clock said 7:47am and I was just headed out the door – whoops, oh well, what can ya do, right? I get to my car, unlock it, all the while attempting to not open the door too far, otherwise it makes a horrible *CRACK* that echos throughout the building. It’s embarrassing and no, WD-40 is not the solution (and for that matter, pretty sure neither is duct tape). While doing this, I am also simultaneously putting in my purse, lunchbox, and holding my keys in my hand (normal, right?).

Who knows what I did, but apparently upon sitting down, my hand with the key-faub (dauber is what I lovingly call it, Morgan corrects me every time… just like how I say “Dobby” from Harry Potter. I pronounce it like Doe-be, it annoys the crap out of Morgan – hehe, sorry babe – and here is a little support that I am not the only one out there who has thought of this Proununciation). Anyway, I digress, as I was saying, I hit the “lock” button and the doors went “whipt” (that’s the sound they make then they lock, say it really fast in your head). Now you have to understand, I have a very old Volvo, going on its 14th year now. In dog years, that’s like almost dead. But it does have a few “bells and whistles” most of which no longer work.

The heated seats maybe worked for the 1st month (drivers side only though), the blinker sometimes decides to not “blink”, the brakes have perfected the high pitched squeak that would rival a taxi cab, my seat only moves forward/back, up/down, it no longer reclines, so it’s permanently stuck a little too reclined, the material is coming off the sunroof (which I think still works), the gas door doesn’t shut all the way – though it doesn’t get stuck as “locked” anymore, the “light is out” dashboard warning is always on – and mostly because there are ALWAYS lights out no matter how often I replace them, the speakers are blown, and then of course, there is the door cracking.

Sorry, very distracted, where was I? Oh yes, the doors had just locked me in, which I usually do lock them, but for some reason, I did not want them locked at this point, so I pulled the knob back up. There, all better. Now, I don’t know if it was my locking the doors w/ the dauber or my unlocking the doors manually that caused the problem but when I stuck my key in the ignition and turned…. I got what seemed like an almost dead battery. The engine wasn’t turning over, the antenna was trying to go up (oh yeah, it is stuck down permanently, so the motor just grinds trying to get up all the way – that’s what she said) and the typical warning lights all illuminated like normal.

JUST GREAT. At this point, I am already pretty late and I start to think, ok, at least there’s Morgan’s car… all the while, I am trying desperately to get my car engine to turn over. I think through my limited supply of possibilities… ok so the lights don’t seem dim, and there was nothing on when I got to the car, it must not be the battery. I’ve had my alternator go out before, maybe that’s the problem… neither possibility seems, right.

Ok, so I’ll just get out of the car. Shit! The moment I pulled the door handle – the car alarm immediately went off (and I can see there IS another person in the garage). Please, let this stop! The car alarm on my car is odd… there is no “panic” button, but merely, lock and unlock. It is always a challenge to figure out how to get it to stop and it’s rather loud (especially when echoing in a garage). I’m standing next to the car pushing both keys frantically and Thank Goodness! the hell ended.

I yelled my apologies across the way, freakishly embarrassed and scurried to get back into my naughty car. I put my key in the ignition and wa-la! Instant gratification (that’s what she…)! At this point I know what the issue was… it was my “anti-theft” mechanism. That I neither know how to activate or deactivate. I have accidentally set off the alarm before, and usually it’s involving locking/unlocking the doors w/ the key dauber. Why on earth would that set it off?! I mean really! The car thinks I am a thief only when I attempt to use the remote entry while in the car!? What idiot would do that on purpose, I mean, there are buttons in the car for that sort of thing. And if I’m stealing the car, am I really worried about locked doors? Wouldn’t I care more about ignitions and driving?! Then I think, well maybe it was because I unlocked the doors from the inside after they had been remotely locked… um, wouldn’t that require me being IN the car first… and I’m not usually just leaving my car doors open for a thief to sneak in and then, when I’m gone, he tries to sneak out… haha, I can just see that happening it made me smile…

So, if anyone understands Volvos, what is the point of their alarm system? If it is merely to embarrass me, well then, it’s doing a fine and dandy job of it! But seriously, please, if anyone knows how it works, why it works the way it does or any other help.. please, let me know.

Oh and did I mention the thermostat stays or causes the car to over heat or it freezes causing the car to not heat up very fast and the air conditioning blows warmer air than the cool air?

Don’t Hate Me…

Do you ever get a song stuck in your head?  I know, I know, silly question, because I’ve never met a person who doesn’t.  And according to my father, that as a songwriter, that’s kinda what you want because then obviously, you’re song is doing well.  But I mean a song or songs that you haven’t even heard of or thought of in years – a song that you would be embarrassed to say you know, let alone, that it runs through  your head at random times based on certain “triggers”.

Like old school Christian ones… yeah you know what I’m talking about – who just started singing “Down with the DC Talk” (aka Luv Is A Verb)?  Or “Big House”?  Okay, so those of you who didn’t, you’re totally missing out (and here’s a link to a super hot music video I’m sure either I or Karissa have these Cd’s lying around in storage somewhere, maybe you can borrow them, and one day you’ll be graced to have them stuck in your head.

Well, those 2 aren’t the ones that are stuck (though it totally brought memories thinking about them and how “cool” we thought they were, and they may be there the rest of today as I have now dredged them up from the depths).  My “vices” are probably even worse…

First is probably the best of all, but still… It’s Elton John’s “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me” – yes, also religious as its a verse from the Bible… but whenever Morgan and I get mad at each other, this goes through my head… I  hate it, it’s like the way my conscious really gets to me…

Just saw one of her cd's is going for $24.99 on Amazon.. guess "good" music never dies!

Next, “God is In Control” by Twila Paris – and subsequently, I always think of getting my teeth extracted, as this is what was playing on the radio when I had 4 adult teeth removed and I drifted off to sleep – it was pleasant then, now it’s a broken record and makes me think of big, blond hair and flowery church dresses.

Last, is Point of Grace’s “Life, Love, and Other Mysteries” – why? Who knows, but this song apparently got shoved in the crevices of my memories and comes up when I least expect it – sometimes logically – like when someone says “other mysteries” – please, don’t start saying this to me or I may get back at you by singing   But really, it is the most random and it brings me back to Jr. High and the cool Christian concerts.. Point of Grace & 4Him, Newsboys, Jesus NW, there are more, but I think my memory has blocked those for my sanity).  Oh wow, now I’m thoroughly embarrassed.

But I’m hoping that admitting my faults I will be able to move past them and that of course, if you have gotten some song stuck in your head, that you do not hate me for it:)  Consider it my gift to you – a walk down memory lane.