173/365 - AR
When I learned you had three sisters, I was shocked to the core. You just seem like an only child. You're a diva with an entitled attitude, a constant whiner who is never satisfied, and the only possible partner for that crazy man you married.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
In Which I Piss Off Everyone
1) I'm riding my bicycle to work. There is a wee bit of a detour where there are, I will admit, very big signs telling cyclists to dismount their bikes. Now, that's all well and good, but there were no pedestrians and I am, I have to admit, an entitled bicyclist. I did not dismount. I slowed down and crept along. (Note: Campus is empty this time of year. The whole time I was on this detour I saw NOT a single pedestrian. Not one.)
As I was two pedal strokes away from a sign telling me I could get back on my bike, a bike cop waves at me and tells me to dismount. I smile, wave, and don't dismount. He yells at me. I sass back.
Eventually I get off my bike, walk it TWO steps, turn around, flick off the cop, say "fabulous" in a snotty voice, and ride off.
Yes, I was breaking the rules. The rules were stupid. And people who use their authority to enforce dumb rules in a dumb manner are also stupid. So. That's that.
2) I don't get the Michael Jackson fuss. Frankly I can't see why his death made the media go nuts and forget about all the other things going on in the world. Ahmadinejad is the winner of this news cycle.
I feel like I can speak ill of the dead because I spoke ill of the man when he was still alive. A musician who has been largely unheard of in the last decade and a half is not someone who needs to be mourned to this extent. Moreover, a man who clearly abused children is not someone I want to spend a lot of time thinking about. All those children he molested must be watching this news coverage and wondering when their voices will ever be heard.
I do feel badly for his children. I hope they can rebound from their loss and be productive members of society. But I don't mourn the man. I really don't.
3) My sister- and brother-in-law asked BB and I to be godparents to their son, Baby O. (I find that I am extremely touched and honored by this and I could write an entire post about that, but I will spare you all my angsty I love my nephew and would do anything for him, even if that involves some church type event diatribe.) Anyway, after we enthusiastically said yes, my husband, being the charming fellow that he is, said, "Oh, and don't worry. If anything happens to you guys, we'll be sure to raise him to be a Democrat."
Hee. These people STRONGLY considered naming their children Ronald and Regan.
4) So we did spend some time in the NICU this weekend. Rather, I spent some time there, while the boy stayed out in the waiting room. He has a cold and couldn't pass the health screening. I thought this was hilarious. He FAILED the screening.
As we left, I found myself pondering the fate of some of those babies. At the end of life, often people have advanced health care directives, instructing their loved ones what measures should be taken regarding life prolongment.
Do parents get to make these same decisions for their premature newborns? As far as I could tell, my sister- and brother-in-law didn't get to make any such decision. The babies were taken from them, hooked up to oxygen, put on warming tables, and, in Baby O's case, given many a blood transfusion. No questions asked.
Maybe doctors have to take these measures? The Hippocratic oath and all?
I'm not sure I would think badly of a parent who made a decision to stop the proceedings and have a child survive (or not) on its own. While BB was in the waiting room, he heard a father on his cell phone, calling his family, telling them how his premature baby couldn't keep her own heart beating. She was a machine for that, a machine for breathing, and he just couldn't take it anymore.
I don't know the answer to these questions. I don't know what I would do if I had a child or children in that situation. But I ask them. I wonder about them. And I hope all the parents out there with babies and little kids in ICUs know that people out there hurt for them, feel for them, and think of them.
As I was two pedal strokes away from a sign telling me I could get back on my bike, a bike cop waves at me and tells me to dismount. I smile, wave, and don't dismount. He yells at me. I sass back.
Eventually I get off my bike, walk it TWO steps, turn around, flick off the cop, say "fabulous" in a snotty voice, and ride off.
Yes, I was breaking the rules. The rules were stupid. And people who use their authority to enforce dumb rules in a dumb manner are also stupid. So. That's that.
2) I don't get the Michael Jackson fuss. Frankly I can't see why his death made the media go nuts and forget about all the other things going on in the world. Ahmadinejad is the winner of this news cycle.
I feel like I can speak ill of the dead because I spoke ill of the man when he was still alive. A musician who has been largely unheard of in the last decade and a half is not someone who needs to be mourned to this extent. Moreover, a man who clearly abused children is not someone I want to spend a lot of time thinking about. All those children he molested must be watching this news coverage and wondering when their voices will ever be heard.
I do feel badly for his children. I hope they can rebound from their loss and be productive members of society. But I don't mourn the man. I really don't.
3) My sister- and brother-in-law asked BB and I to be godparents to their son, Baby O. (I find that I am extremely touched and honored by this and I could write an entire post about that, but I will spare you all my angsty I love my nephew and would do anything for him, even if that involves some church type event diatribe.) Anyway, after we enthusiastically said yes, my husband, being the charming fellow that he is, said, "Oh, and don't worry. If anything happens to you guys, we'll be sure to raise him to be a Democrat."
Hee. These people STRONGLY considered naming their children Ronald and Regan.
4) So we did spend some time in the NICU this weekend. Rather, I spent some time there, while the boy stayed out in the waiting room. He has a cold and couldn't pass the health screening. I thought this was hilarious. He FAILED the screening.
As we left, I found myself pondering the fate of some of those babies. At the end of life, often people have advanced health care directives, instructing their loved ones what measures should be taken regarding life prolongment.
Do parents get to make these same decisions for their premature newborns? As far as I could tell, my sister- and brother-in-law didn't get to make any such decision. The babies were taken from them, hooked up to oxygen, put on warming tables, and, in Baby O's case, given many a blood transfusion. No questions asked.
Maybe doctors have to take these measures? The Hippocratic oath and all?
I'm not sure I would think badly of a parent who made a decision to stop the proceedings and have a child survive (or not) on its own. While BB was in the waiting room, he heard a father on his cell phone, calling his family, telling them how his premature baby couldn't keep her own heart beating. She was a machine for that, a machine for breathing, and he just couldn't take it anymore.
I don't know the answer to these questions. I don't know what I would do if I had a child or children in that situation. But I ask them. I wonder about them. And I hope all the parents out there with babies and little kids in ICUs know that people out there hurt for them, feel for them, and think of them.
45 x 365 #172
172/365 - GP
You live your life in an exaggerated, over the top manner. The line you draw between personal and private is hilariously nonexistent. We knew your fiancee had "thrown up blood" because this spectacular detail was mentioned in the Christmas card last year.
You live your life in an exaggerated, over the top manner. The line you draw between personal and private is hilariously nonexistent. We knew your fiancee had "thrown up blood" because this spectacular detail was mentioned in the Christmas card last year.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
A father's legacy
I spent all Sunday gathering up the nerve to make that phone call.
"Hello?"
"Yeah?"
"Hi! Happy Father's Day! It's your youngest daughter calling to wish you a happy Father's Day." Cheerfulness is my best weapon, I think to myself.
"Uh huh. Gee, thanks." Huh. I can sense sarcasm as well as the next girl.
"Um. Yeah. No problem. How are you?" I will remain happy and upbeat. I will. I will do that. I can do that.
He spends the next twenty minutes complaining about how he was all alone on Father's Day, how his two daughters deserted him, how the rain flooded the basement, how screwed they got in the recent tax evaluation of their land, and how rude it was for me to call him at 3:00 in the afternoon, waking him up.
I apologized for abandoning him, commiserated with him about the weather, asking him to send some of it our way (we're a bit dry, actually), asked questions about taxes I don't understand the answers to, and begged forgiveness for interrupting nap time. With every passing second, my stomach became tighter and tighter.
I heard my husband in the other room, laughing with his father on the phone.
It's not that I don't love my father; I do. He and my mother gave up so much to make sure we sat down to family dinners a couple of times a week, spent at least one weekend day together as a family, learned right from wrong (we'll ignore sticky moral issues I now grapple with on a daily basis), and basic human respect. They were patient with a bright, inquisitive child who never stopped questioning. (Never. Stopped.) They knew I slept with a flashlight so I could read just one more chapter. They gave everything so that I would have an education anyone could be proud of.
But he also left me a legacy of fear. Fear of angry men, fear that the next fist will be aimed at my face, fear of the next phone call home. Fear that marriage means resentment and miscommunication. Fear that I am not good enough, nor are my actions ever going to be good enough.
**********************************
I talked to my sister later that day. She asked me if our father had told me about the ER visit.
No, no. I guess it just didn't come up.
He stabbed himself. It was an accident. She's laughing.
I'm not.
"Hello?"
"Yeah?"
"Hi! Happy Father's Day! It's your youngest daughter calling to wish you a happy Father's Day." Cheerfulness is my best weapon, I think to myself.
"Uh huh. Gee, thanks." Huh. I can sense sarcasm as well as the next girl.
"Um. Yeah. No problem. How are you?" I will remain happy and upbeat. I will. I will do that. I can do that.
He spends the next twenty minutes complaining about how he was all alone on Father's Day, how his two daughters deserted him, how the rain flooded the basement, how screwed they got in the recent tax evaluation of their land, and how rude it was for me to call him at 3:00 in the afternoon, waking him up.
I apologized for abandoning him, commiserated with him about the weather, asking him to send some of it our way (we're a bit dry, actually), asked questions about taxes I don't understand the answers to, and begged forgiveness for interrupting nap time. With every passing second, my stomach became tighter and tighter.
I heard my husband in the other room, laughing with his father on the phone.
It's not that I don't love my father; I do. He and my mother gave up so much to make sure we sat down to family dinners a couple of times a week, spent at least one weekend day together as a family, learned right from wrong (we'll ignore sticky moral issues I now grapple with on a daily basis), and basic human respect. They were patient with a bright, inquisitive child who never stopped questioning. (Never. Stopped.) They knew I slept with a flashlight so I could read just one more chapter. They gave everything so that I would have an education anyone could be proud of.
But he also left me a legacy of fear. Fear of angry men, fear that the next fist will be aimed at my face, fear of the next phone call home. Fear that marriage means resentment and miscommunication. Fear that I am not good enough, nor are my actions ever going to be good enough.
**********************************
I talked to my sister later that day. She asked me if our father had told me about the ER visit.
No, no. I guess it just didn't come up.
He stabbed himself. It was an accident. She's laughing.
I'm not.
45 x 365 #171
171/365 - KN
You were the first mother I ever talked with who actually expressed doubts about her own child. Was she smart? Was she pretty? Did you even really love her? I remember how ashamed you were of your feelings, and also how brave you were to share.
You were the first mother I ever talked with who actually expressed doubts about her own child. Was she smart? Was she pretty? Did you even really love her? I remember how ashamed you were of your feelings, and also how brave you were to share.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
45 x 365 #170
170/365 - ER
You are super smart, nice, and successful. Your family life has always been chaotic and complicated and you settled for a smart, nice, and successful young man to make your life stable. Now that you have made your life boring, I fear you are becoming boring.
You are super smart, nice, and successful. Your family life has always been chaotic and complicated and you settled for a smart, nice, and successful young man to make your life stable. Now that you have made your life boring, I fear you are becoming boring.
Monday, June 22, 2009
45 x 365 #169
169/365 - TC
I remember you as quiet and unassuming, the kind of person who just blends. Years later I saw you and you had turned into the kind of person who is NOTICED. Big voice, tight clothes, twice divorced before 28, and still trying to find herself.
I remember you as quiet and unassuming, the kind of person who just blends. Years later I saw you and you had turned into the kind of person who is NOTICED. Big voice, tight clothes, twice divorced before 28, and still trying to find herself.
Makeup and what I say I wear
Many moons ago, Andie published a list of her daily makeup routine. She's gorgeous and I read through her list, rather shocked that there's no overlap in our products! Here I've been thinking that I use rather normal products, but it turns out I might need to do some experimenting. So here's my daily routine for those of you playing along at home. (Note: I'm obssessed with Benefit cosmetics.)
1) Moisturizer with SPF right out of the shower for my face AND an eye cream for controlling the uncontrollable fine lines. I haven't really settled on a favorite moisturizer yet, although I was a big fan of this Roc Age Diminishing Daily Moisturizer with SPF 15 until the day I went to Walgreen's and couldn't find it anymore. I have since moved on to some Loreal product that smells bad. Smack some Neutrogena Dry Touch Ultra Sunblock on over that and wait a few minutes and my moisturizing/sunblock duties are finished.
2) Smashbox's Photo Finish Primer goes on next before anything else. Essentially this stuff fills in the fine lines and wrinkles that are ever present and makes your face super smooth for the rest of your makeup. Mine has SPF 15, but since I have the Neutrogena stuff on, it's probably overkill. This stuff is spendy, but it lasts forever (a tiny dab is all you need for your whole face) and is worth it. Next time I think I'm going to get the color correcting version of the primer so I might not have to actually use so much foundation.
3) I use Benefit's Some Kind of Gorgeous as a foundation and then, if I need it, and I usually do, a little bit of an Aveda pressed powder color 01 Cream. I actually am still using the same sample they gave me of the pressed powder at our wedding over a year ago, so you can tell I don't use a lot of it. The Some Kind of Gorgous gets replaced every three or four months.
4) Next is my secret weapon. It is Benefit's Glamazon. It's a lip and cheek stain. I was terrified of stains until the Benefit counter lady at Macy's told me it was the perfect shade for me. I gotta say, it's not as perfect for me as it is for my blonde friends, but it is delightful. A few drops right along the cheekline, rubbed in with a latex sponge and it's the PERFECT blush. I've recently started using it as a stain under a lip gloss and it stays for a long time. Way more time than a traditional lip stick. It's great!
5) Another secret weapon is also from Benefit (I love Benefit; I have an addiction) and it is F. Y. . . E! This stuff is a primer FOR YOUR EYELIDS. I've had this same little bottle for longer than I care to admit. It's getting near to replacement time for it, but I swear I've had the same bottle for over two years. I use a QTip to rub it on my eyelids. This is brilliant because then I can use really cheap eyeshadow and it never flakes, cakes, or goes anywhere. And my eyelids are. . . oily. So this is saying something. Spend money on the primer and then you can get cheap eyeshadow.
6) Then I put on cheap eyeshadow. Obviously the color depends on what I'm wearing, but I usually stick with browns, greys, and greens.
7) Then I put on cheap mascara. You have to replace mascara every three months and I can't justify spending more than a few dollars on a tube.
8) If I'm feeling really frisky, I'll put on Benefit's Brow Zings. This is just a little color to darken the brows and make them stand out a little bit and frame the eyes better. I guess I don't use this every day, but if I'm making even the tiniest bit of effort, I do use it. Again, this stuff lasts forever and it comes with little mini tweezers, so what could be wrong with that?!
9) Lip gloss or, for those of you who know me better, Blistex Medicated Lip Balm in the blue tub. I act like I use lip gloss, but I almost exclusively use Blistex.
That's it! I'm finished. I'm beautiful. It's more steps than I thought when I first started doing this. I think Andie's routine is much more simplified. Maybe I need to consider what is necessary makeup!!
1) Moisturizer with SPF right out of the shower for my face AND an eye cream for controlling the uncontrollable fine lines. I haven't really settled on a favorite moisturizer yet, although I was a big fan of this Roc Age Diminishing Daily Moisturizer with SPF 15 until the day I went to Walgreen's and couldn't find it anymore. I have since moved on to some Loreal product that smells bad. Smack some Neutrogena Dry Touch Ultra Sunblock on over that and wait a few minutes and my moisturizing/sunblock duties are finished.
2) Smashbox's Photo Finish Primer goes on next before anything else. Essentially this stuff fills in the fine lines and wrinkles that are ever present and makes your face super smooth for the rest of your makeup. Mine has SPF 15, but since I have the Neutrogena stuff on, it's probably overkill. This stuff is spendy, but it lasts forever (a tiny dab is all you need for your whole face) and is worth it. Next time I think I'm going to get the color correcting version of the primer so I might not have to actually use so much foundation.
3) I use Benefit's Some Kind of Gorgeous as a foundation and then, if I need it, and I usually do, a little bit of an Aveda pressed powder color 01 Cream. I actually am still using the same sample they gave me of the pressed powder at our wedding over a year ago, so you can tell I don't use a lot of it. The Some Kind of Gorgous gets replaced every three or four months.
4) Next is my secret weapon. It is Benefit's Glamazon. It's a lip and cheek stain. I was terrified of stains until the Benefit counter lady at Macy's told me it was the perfect shade for me. I gotta say, it's not as perfect for me as it is for my blonde friends, but it is delightful. A few drops right along the cheekline, rubbed in with a latex sponge and it's the PERFECT blush. I've recently started using it as a stain under a lip gloss and it stays for a long time. Way more time than a traditional lip stick. It's great!
5) Another secret weapon is also from Benefit (I love Benefit; I have an addiction) and it is F. Y. . . E! This stuff is a primer FOR YOUR EYELIDS. I've had this same little bottle for longer than I care to admit. It's getting near to replacement time for it, but I swear I've had the same bottle for over two years. I use a QTip to rub it on my eyelids. This is brilliant because then I can use really cheap eyeshadow and it never flakes, cakes, or goes anywhere. And my eyelids are. . . oily. So this is saying something. Spend money on the primer and then you can get cheap eyeshadow.
6) Then I put on cheap eyeshadow. Obviously the color depends on what I'm wearing, but I usually stick with browns, greys, and greens.
7) Then I put on cheap mascara. You have to replace mascara every three months and I can't justify spending more than a few dollars on a tube.
8) If I'm feeling really frisky, I'll put on Benefit's Brow Zings. This is just a little color to darken the brows and make them stand out a little bit and frame the eyes better. I guess I don't use this every day, but if I'm making even the tiniest bit of effort, I do use it. Again, this stuff lasts forever and it comes with little mini tweezers, so what could be wrong with that?!
9) Lip gloss or, for those of you who know me better, Blistex Medicated Lip Balm in the blue tub. I act like I use lip gloss, but I almost exclusively use Blistex.
That's it! I'm finished. I'm beautiful. It's more steps than I thought when I first started doing this. I think Andie's routine is much more simplified. Maybe I need to consider what is necessary makeup!!
Friday, June 19, 2009
45 x 365 #168
168/365 - RN
A favorite picture from my wedding is a photo of you and your wife. You had eyes only for each other. You are so in love with her, your daughter, you life. Your enthusiasm for life is what makes you the special person you are.
A favorite picture from my wedding is a photo of you and your wife. You had eyes only for each other. You are so in love with her, your daughter, you life. Your enthusiasm for life is what makes you the special person you are.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
45 x 365 #167
167/365 - MV
A super star in high school - honor roll, state athletic records, national awards for music. In college something happened. An eating disorder, abusive boyfriend, unplanned pregnancy. You're getting yourself back on track. The road is difficult, but you seem to be handling it with grace.
A super star in high school - honor roll, state athletic records, national awards for music. In college something happened. An eating disorder, abusive boyfriend, unplanned pregnancy. You're getting yourself back on track. The road is difficult, but you seem to be handling it with grace.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
45 x 365 #166
166/365 - CO
Mental illness haunts your everything. You moved away from your family, your friends, trying to outrun the memories and the reputation, but soon realized you needed them and moved back. You have ambition, but your brain won't let you do what you want to do.
Mental illness haunts your everything. You moved away from your family, your friends, trying to outrun the memories and the reputation, but soon realized you needed them and moved back. You have ambition, but your brain won't let you do what you want to do.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
45 x 365 #165
165/365 - KH
A strange combination of selflessness and selfishness. A master's degree in social work, but an inability to realize that someone close to you, namely your husband, is stressed out to the max and barely able to function. I don't know if I really like you.
A strange combination of selflessness and selfishness. A master's degree in social work, but an inability to realize that someone close to you, namely your husband, is stressed out to the max and barely able to function. I don't know if I really like you.
Monday, June 08, 2009
Letters to the Universe
Dear Pandora,
Please stop playing George Strait songs on my station. I understand that, based on my musical recommendations and your oversimplified thumbs up/thumbs down rating system, I should love these songs. I agree that The Chair is kind of silly and clever and Ocean Front Property makes me giggle every damn time and I must have, in moments of weakness, given them both a thumbs up. But I must make myself clear. I do not like George Strait songs. The songs are boring, Strait has a (very pleasant) range of about six notes, and a lot of the songs have that same dated 80s sound that Clint Black and Alan Jackson songs have (just as a note to you, Pandora, please stop playing Clint Black and Alan Jackson, too - thanks!).
So, yes, Pandora, I admit it. I love me my Garth Brooks, Gary Allan, Brooks & Dunn, Loretta Lynn, John Conlee, Conway Twitty, and Barbara Mandrell. I know I've confused you by saying I even like a few Rascal Flatts songs and some poppy Carrie Underwood and my girl Taylor Swift songs. I get it. I've confused your music generator. But if you play another damn song off that Troubadour album, I may be forced to punch my laptop screen. You don't want to be responsible for that, do you?
Thanks for listening!
*********************************
Dear Pepsi,
That Sierra Mist with a splash of ruby red grapefruit? That Sierra Mist with the really bad commercial with the GIANT grapefruit pushing the lemon and lime out of the container making you think that there's more than a "splash" of grapefruit in the soda?
That Sierra Mist is freaking awesome!! Thanks for donating like a gazillion cans to my husband's part-time job. Once or twice a week BB brings a can of this nectar of the gods home and we split it over dinner. It's fabulous. The grapefruit is a nice supporting member. The pop (soda? soda pop? what do YOU prefer I use, Pepsi?) isn't super heavily carbonated and it's a refreshing drink.
Thanks for your awesome, gluten-free product!
*********************************
Dear Don't Forget the Lyrics,
Dude, you really freaked me out on Friday night when I flipped through the channels and when I stumbled upon you on FOX there were two twin blonde guys singing remarkably well. I have watched your show before (BTW, I could never win even a single cent on your show and I thought I knew a lot of lyrics, but clearly I do not) and I know you have a tendency to have celebrities on to win money for charity.
So these guys were on, right? And I totally thought they were Nelson!! Do you remember Nelson? It was a "band" in the late 90s whose lead singers were Ricky Nelson's twin sons. They were blond!! And I really thought, for several minutes, that Nelson was on your show!! I was somewhat disappointed when I eventually realized I was wrong. For a moment I had a vision of them busting out with a chorus of (Can't Live Without Your) Love and Affection.
And, yes, I LOVED that these guys had to sing 18 & Life by Skid Row. That's one of my karaoke fallback songs and I totally knew all the words, too! (Tequila in his heartbeat; his veins burned gasoline - do lyrics get any more classic than this?!) For the first time EVER on your show, I could have sung the song without Wayne Brady's help.
Thanks for your choice of blonde haired guys to make me remember my musical misadventures with Nelson,
P.S. I heart Wayne Brady. Do you think you could pass along a dinner invitation from me to him?
********************************
Dear University of Iowa hospitals,
Don't take this the wrong way. You do what you do super well. You save lives.
But I'm really tired of sending flowers and cards your way. See, first there was the thing with the twins being born super early. They're doing pretty well, so thanks for that! Baby O opened his eyes and their mama is able to even hold Baby K for 15-20 minutes each day. They are each now above their birth weight again and the doctors are growing more and more optimistic.
But then yesterday we got a phone call that one of our cousins is in the hospital for a recurring brain tumor. She is only 27. Three years ago she had a tumor removed surgically and they told her she was going to be just fine, two years ago she got married, and then last week a regular check up told her that she wasn't going to be just fine. On July 19 she will be undergoing another surgery. The family grapevine says that the doctors aren't particularly optimistic about her chances of living through the surgery.
I gotta say, U of I hospitals, I know that you are the best place for her. I know, deep in my heart, that she will get through this. She is young, otherwise healthy, and strong. I want you to know that I appreciate you and what you are currently doing for my family. But I am growing weary of the toll all of this is taking on my family.
Please take care of my loved ones,
**********************************
Dear Chicago,
Did you hear? I'm leaving tomorrow to go visit you, you fine city. I will be there on Wednesday and Thursday hanging out with my sister and then on Friday and Saturday hanging out with my bestest friend.
For four days I am going to think of nothing more stressful than picking out which restaurant my great-aunt Alice will be taking us to. For four days I am going to eat whatever I want to, whenever I want to. For four days I am going to laugh and laugh. For four days I am going to wander aimlessly around your greater metropolitan area.
The weather is supposed to be good for the next week or so in your fair city. Please, please, please make it so.
Thanks for your kind consideration in all things weather-related,
Please stop playing George Strait songs on my station. I understand that, based on my musical recommendations and your oversimplified thumbs up/thumbs down rating system, I should love these songs. I agree that The Chair is kind of silly and clever and Ocean Front Property makes me giggle every damn time and I must have, in moments of weakness, given them both a thumbs up. But I must make myself clear. I do not like George Strait songs. The songs are boring, Strait has a (very pleasant) range of about six notes, and a lot of the songs have that same dated 80s sound that Clint Black and Alan Jackson songs have (just as a note to you, Pandora, please stop playing Clint Black and Alan Jackson, too - thanks!).
So, yes, Pandora, I admit it. I love me my Garth Brooks, Gary Allan, Brooks & Dunn, Loretta Lynn, John Conlee, Conway Twitty, and Barbara Mandrell. I know I've confused you by saying I even like a few Rascal Flatts songs and some poppy Carrie Underwood and my girl Taylor Swift songs. I get it. I've confused your music generator. But if you play another damn song off that Troubadour album, I may be forced to punch my laptop screen. You don't want to be responsible for that, do you?
Thanks for listening!
*********************************
Dear Pepsi,
That Sierra Mist with a splash of ruby red grapefruit? That Sierra Mist with the really bad commercial with the GIANT grapefruit pushing the lemon and lime out of the container making you think that there's more than a "splash" of grapefruit in the soda?
That Sierra Mist is freaking awesome!! Thanks for donating like a gazillion cans to my husband's part-time job. Once or twice a week BB brings a can of this nectar of the gods home and we split it over dinner. It's fabulous. The grapefruit is a nice supporting member. The pop (soda? soda pop? what do YOU prefer I use, Pepsi?) isn't super heavily carbonated and it's a refreshing drink.
Thanks for your awesome, gluten-free product!
*********************************
Dear Don't Forget the Lyrics,
Dude, you really freaked me out on Friday night when I flipped through the channels and when I stumbled upon you on FOX there were two twin blonde guys singing remarkably well. I have watched your show before (BTW, I could never win even a single cent on your show and I thought I knew a lot of lyrics, but clearly I do not) and I know you have a tendency to have celebrities on to win money for charity.
So these guys were on, right? And I totally thought they were Nelson!! Do you remember Nelson? It was a "band" in the late 90s whose lead singers were Ricky Nelson's twin sons. They were blond!! And I really thought, for several minutes, that Nelson was on your show!! I was somewhat disappointed when I eventually realized I was wrong. For a moment I had a vision of them busting out with a chorus of (Can't Live Without Your) Love and Affection.
And, yes, I LOVED that these guys had to sing 18 & Life by Skid Row. That's one of my karaoke fallback songs and I totally knew all the words, too! (Tequila in his heartbeat; his veins burned gasoline - do lyrics get any more classic than this?!) For the first time EVER on your show, I could have sung the song without Wayne Brady's help.
Thanks for your choice of blonde haired guys to make me remember my musical misadventures with Nelson,
P.S. I heart Wayne Brady. Do you think you could pass along a dinner invitation from me to him?
********************************
Dear University of Iowa hospitals,
Don't take this the wrong way. You do what you do super well. You save lives.
But I'm really tired of sending flowers and cards your way. See, first there was the thing with the twins being born super early. They're doing pretty well, so thanks for that! Baby O opened his eyes and their mama is able to even hold Baby K for 15-20 minutes each day. They are each now above their birth weight again and the doctors are growing more and more optimistic.
But then yesterday we got a phone call that one of our cousins is in the hospital for a recurring brain tumor. She is only 27. Three years ago she had a tumor removed surgically and they told her she was going to be just fine, two years ago she got married, and then last week a regular check up told her that she wasn't going to be just fine. On July 19 she will be undergoing another surgery. The family grapevine says that the doctors aren't particularly optimistic about her chances of living through the surgery.
I gotta say, U of I hospitals, I know that you are the best place for her. I know, deep in my heart, that she will get through this. She is young, otherwise healthy, and strong. I want you to know that I appreciate you and what you are currently doing for my family. But I am growing weary of the toll all of this is taking on my family.
Please take care of my loved ones,
**********************************
Dear Chicago,
Did you hear? I'm leaving tomorrow to go visit you, you fine city. I will be there on Wednesday and Thursday hanging out with my sister and then on Friday and Saturday hanging out with my bestest friend.
For four days I am going to think of nothing more stressful than picking out which restaurant my great-aunt Alice will be taking us to. For four days I am going to eat whatever I want to, whenever I want to. For four days I am going to laugh and laugh. For four days I am going to wander aimlessly around your greater metropolitan area.
The weather is supposed to be good for the next week or so in your fair city. Please, please, please make it so.
Thanks for your kind consideration in all things weather-related,
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
The Longest Week
The call came in last Wednesday early in the morning. A panicked call from my brother-in-law.
By Wednesday evening, the babies were born. Baby O came first. Twelve and a quarter inches long, three pounds. Baby K followed within a few minutes. Twelve and a half inches long, three pounds. She let out a healthy scream in the delivery room.
Baby O has huge feet in comparison to the rest of his tiny body. He wears the tiniest Pampers you've ever seen. Every time a nurse pushes his legs together into a fetal position, he flails them out, always stretching them.
Baby K loves to suck on her pacifier. It calms her down. She sleeps with her arms up over head. She always opens her eyes when her mama walks into the room.
Baby O was immediately intubated after his birth and had more than one blood transfusion before he was 72 hours old. He has a slight bleed in his brain. His eyes are still fused together. Baby K has a persistent heart murmur. She was intubated the day after her birth.
Their nervous systems aren't fully developed enough to allow anyone to touch or cuddle them. Their mama cries when they cry. Which is a lot. Baby O cries constantly unless there's a slight bit of morphine in his IV.
Their mama was 28 weeks pregnant last Wednesday. Now her babies are one week old.
I can't tell you how painful this has been for our family. The NICU is a scary place. Those babies are sick. Some of them are not going to live. Please think of them, send them good thoughts. My niece and nephew are not the only ones with families pacing in the hallways, with parents who can't take an easy breath, with aunts and uncles refreshing care pages every hour. Those littlest ones, they can't tell us what's wrong, what hurts, and that hurts.
***Yes, BB also had a follow-up appointment last week at Mayo. The news wasn't particularly good, but it pales in comparison to the crisis of these Twinkies. He'll live. Most likely.
By Wednesday evening, the babies were born. Baby O came first. Twelve and a quarter inches long, three pounds. Baby K followed within a few minutes. Twelve and a half inches long, three pounds. She let out a healthy scream in the delivery room.
Baby O has huge feet in comparison to the rest of his tiny body. He wears the tiniest Pampers you've ever seen. Every time a nurse pushes his legs together into a fetal position, he flails them out, always stretching them.
Baby K loves to suck on her pacifier. It calms her down. She sleeps with her arms up over head. She always opens her eyes when her mama walks into the room.
Baby O was immediately intubated after his birth and had more than one blood transfusion before he was 72 hours old. He has a slight bleed in his brain. His eyes are still fused together. Baby K has a persistent heart murmur. She was intubated the day after her birth.
Their nervous systems aren't fully developed enough to allow anyone to touch or cuddle them. Their mama cries when they cry. Which is a lot. Baby O cries constantly unless there's a slight bit of morphine in his IV.
Their mama was 28 weeks pregnant last Wednesday. Now her babies are one week old.
I can't tell you how painful this has been for our family. The NICU is a scary place. Those babies are sick. Some of them are not going to live. Please think of them, send them good thoughts. My niece and nephew are not the only ones with families pacing in the hallways, with parents who can't take an easy breath, with aunts and uncles refreshing care pages every hour. Those littlest ones, they can't tell us what's wrong, what hurts, and that hurts.
***Yes, BB also had a follow-up appointment last week at Mayo. The news wasn't particularly good, but it pales in comparison to the crisis of these Twinkies. He'll live. Most likely.
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