the day music died?

so once upon a time this summer i decided that i needed to learn more about music. not like reading musical notes or even musical theory but mostly about the history of rock and roll. i've always loved and appreciated music, but i am hopelessly bad putting an artist with a song title, naming lyrics {confession: i thought the "boulevard of broken dreams" by green day said, "sometimes i wish a polar bear would find me" instead of "sometimes i wish someone somewhere would find me." yep.}, and recognizing genres. so a friend of mine lent me a gigantic book from the rock and roll hall of fame that looks a bit like the book hermione gets out "for a bit of light reading" in the philosopher's stone....

{aka it is about the size of medium sized pet}

...and it reads a lot like a vh1 behind the music or e! true hollywoods story...

{which i am almost as much of a sucker for as top 100 shows}

although i am only in the 1960s in the book, i have decided to share some of my new, improved, and semi-educated brainwaves as a result of this book.

despite having potentially one of the most insanely lame names of all time, roy orbison does not in fact suck.

and in fact i find this to be true of many older artists (buddy holly, sam cooke, etc.) he's really not a looker either, and some people found him to be attractive. so, yet again i am forced to admit that i have previously judged a book by its cover and found myself to be wrong. you should therefore probably not ever listen to my advice or judgments no matter how forcefully i write them.

difficult bass lines are sexy. sexy like justin timberlake in "friends with benefits" sexy. not like justin timberlake in "bad teacher"--which is just vanilla.

i've always been a lyrics girl. it's the words of a song not the intricate musical patterns that stick to me and make me listen over and over again {even if i imagine that buckcherry is saying "i'm sorry i'm bill" when he's really saying "i'm sorry i'm bad"}. this book, however, talks about certain patterns and changes in music that make songs and artists unique or special. so i've been listening a little more closely, and i've found that i am attracted to bass lines the way that i am attracted to tall skinny guys: that's just how God made me. and today, in the car, i realized that korn's "got the life" {a seriously slammin' 90s hit} has a really sexy bass line:

{potentially, you may not find this sexy. potentially, you may find this video disturbing. i ask you however to listen in for the bass-line and see if your mind is blown}

the way to a woman's heart: frank sinatra.

so. frank. technically not a part of this rock n roll hall of fame book. but my appreciation for him has been growing a lot. it's potentially true that a man could ask me to lick fungus of his toes with frank playing in the background, and i would consider it for more than 22 seconds. i am definitely not the world's most refined woman {i just talked about licking fungus...i'm also a youth director. it's in the job description somewhere that all youth directors must use 60% of their vocabulary on fart jokes and poop humor...70% if you work with junior high}, but there is something about a man who holds a door for a lady and a night of delicious italian food {a challenge for me to keep my clothing unstained and my breath non-toxic}. it's that lady and the tramp moment every little girl dreams about:

{spaghetti especial-iani, heavy on the meats-a-balls!}

there's nothing new under the sun.

previously, i judged artists based on their originality and uniqueness. and i suppose there is some validity to that approach. but i'm not totally sure that anything is original anymore. or unique. when i think about truly great moments in rock history (elvis. bob dylan. the beatles. nirvana.), they took an old cocktail, mixed with something else, popped it in the blender for 2 minutes, and served up a brand new milkshake for the public. and sometimes it was marketing pretty much the same music in a different way. success in the music industry (and fashion and any other form of art) has more to do with timing than anything else. 

today's "top 100" songs ought to be printed on toilet paper.

dear today's adolescents: don't you want to hear SOMETHING that is not backed by a techno beat? the answer is yes. yes you do.

are we at a crossroads?

i find it really interesting that the beginnings of rock n roll bridged gaps between genres of music, creating a new one. that it took elements of multiple races and ethnicities to make groovin beats that everyone can listen to. it also appealed to a new audience: teenagers, a group of people who were just being born as a group to be marketed to. i've been told that today's music shares some qualities with this time period. that today's music seeks to be marketable to multiple genre listeners {you can see this in crap-tastic country music being played on every station...and i don't mean that as a slight to all country...} and multiple races. and one of the main groups being marketed to are "tweens"- or kids who are like 4th-6th grade. not quite teens, but children who have grown up way too fast {and been spoiled worse than veruca salt}. 

i will argue this. i think there is a major difference between mixing genres the way elvis did and watering down your own musical style in order to be played on every radio station like taylor swift. it seems to me like a lot of early rock n roll legends reached new levels of discovering their talents and identities in experimenting with musical styles whereas i think today's artists who actually have talent hide their talents behind a universal, synthetic beat and lose their identities as they say yes to too many people, groups, and places. 

i do find this whole idea of the new "tween" group interesting {maybe more than a little frightening considering how this affects sex trafficking...}. i'll be interested to see if i become like old fogies who thought rock n roll was for the riff-raff.

at any rate, like i said, i am just learning all this now, and i'd like to hear your thoughts. comment away, my friends!

a tale as old as time...

as i watch my favorite disney movie (potentially my favorite movie) of all time, beauty and the beast, after potentially not seeing it in years, i am left with many thoughts and questions...

• lumiere is a candelabra. his girlfriend is a featherduster. something in me says that is going to end poorly.
• how did i miss the fact that the beast is a textbook example of an abusive husband?
• will i ever watch the scene when they dance in the ballroom without crying?
• whatever happened to singing dancing musical numbers in disney movies like this? 
• why does every man in this movie have ridiculous looking hair?
• why didn't belle think through her actions before she showed a crowd with torches and pitchforks the enchanted mirror with a picture of the beast on it? that doesn't sound like love to me. it sounds like she's an imbecile.
• this movie is a bit more risque than i remember. a few moments of sexual inuendo, lots of violence, a couple borderline homosexual references. you even see a wolf die.
• where did belle learn her manners? her father seems to have only taught her to read.
• if the beast hadn't become a man before their first kiss, i wonder what plan B was...bc kissing with that 3 foot mouth full of teeth does not sound enticing.
• what are the actual words to "be our guest"? bc i just realized that the words i have been singing aren't actual words...
• "and as i always say, if it ain't baroque, don't fix it." i seriously laugh hysterically and out loud every single time!!
• today on jeopardy, the clue was something about be our guest and the title character belle blah blah blah...what movie. and someone legitimately guessed "cinderella." what, really??
• i still remember when my cousin and i thought it would be really fun to try to eat our mashed potatoes like the beast (aaahhhmmmm nom nom nom...). it was incredibly messy and we got in a lot of trouble, but you know, it did improve our romantic lives. no man can resist a woman hoovering her food with beast-like intensity.
• i wonder what would happen if a person really did eat 5 dozen eggs a day, like gaston. it reminds me of a guy i went to college with who would literally empty the bowl of hard-boiled eggs in the salad bar line every day onto his tray. we affectionately called him "hot scott" behind his back.

watching disney movies from my childhood as an adult can really change your perspective on a movie. in this case, i love this movie even more!! what are some disney movies from your childhood, and what do you think of them now?

griswold family vacation: virginia beach addition

as i write this blog, i sit sunburnt and sand-covered in our hotel room with my brother and parental units, waiting to engorge myself on yet another meal. this particular vacation has me nostalgic and considering mccarty vacations past. now that we are all adults (my brother just turned 21), our vacations look a lot different (and probably cost a lot more), and yet contain some of the same old traditions that have existed for years.

sunbathing rituals

mom and i love laying in the sun for hours and hours. we lather up in sunscreen, grab our beach chairs and a trashy novel, and plant our booties in that really magical place where the ocean meets the sand and trickles in a soothing way on your feet. it's one of those "words cannot capture my personal bliss" kind of moments. (followed quickly by some bratty child who kicked water and sand in my face...i am never having children). the only thing that's changed over time is my mom's and my choice in literature. my mom has graduated from the lord of the rings to the sookie stackhouse series to some nora roberts trash from the supermarket. i have evolved from the bible and charlottes web (for the 5 millionth time) to harry potter to, embarrassingly, sookie stackhouse...

ants in my pants...

as mom and i "glisten" in the heat of this fiery chariot and read supermarket novel after supermarket novel, dad and brother make it their personal goal to use every amenity the hotel offers. this includes:
*the ice machine
*the fitness room
*every machine in the fitness room
*as many towels as possible
*the hot tub
*the indoor pool
*the microwave and toaster
*shower caps
*ironing board
*cable...

the men-folk of my family simply cannot sit still.

sand in the netherlands...


when we were little, my mom used to say that after a day at the beach, we have a "sand poop." bc as children, my brother and i would literally sit directly in the sand and soon our bathing suits looked like diapers carrying a load. you'd rush to the bathroom and dump the pound of sand you've obtained into the toilet bowl. absolutely delicious. and by delicious i mean gross. now adays, it's like a goal every day to have minimal sand inside my bathing suit.

evening activities


as small children, my brother and i were picky eaters. so evening meals meant every burger and pizza place within 5 blocks. now, our family spends time hunting out steeler bars and interesting signs and t-shirts.

{22nd street bar and grill: a steeler bar at virginia beach with heinz ketchup and some of the best fried shrimp ever!!! literally felt like we were at home.}

{except we thought they weren't going to play the game. however, the 3 employees there looked around at the literal mob of steelers fans, and decided they could not go up against such large humans who feel it is attractive to wear yellow shirts}

{anyone who knows me knows this is soooo true of me!!!}

...

{this also reminds me of the aladdin moment when al says, "i even have servants who go to the marketplace for my servants."}

that moment...

when your family becomes more than people you share genetics with. that moment when you know you are with 3 people who know you better than anyone, who you can laugh and drink and eat with, who you can do nothing with. that moment when your parents become more than rule-makers but become friends. this is probably the biggest difference, and it makes vacations all that more special.

{my brother absolutely refused to smile in every picture}

{how cute are my rents??}

life is good today

roommate date: the tale of a beautiful disaster

today Truly Tricia and i had a lovely and much needed roommate date. what had promised to be a lovely evening of cheating on our diets, manicuring our nails, and having pillow fights in our underwear turned quickly into a serious ultimate low.

first, we decided to indulge in some wendys' french fries and chicken nuggets.

{lay off me i'm starving}

for the 11.7 minutes it took for us to consume our medium french fries and chicken nuggets, i had an out-of-body experience of pure, unadulterated bliss. however, i immediately regretted the decision to over-indulge. i began to have that feeling you get in your stomach: you know, when the contents of your stomach are jiggling like pudding in a bowl while gurgling like some of the instruments in the original willy wonka and the chocolate factory when they go into the inventing room...

{mm, roast beef and mashed potato! with sour cream? -- and yes, i do feel about the same as violet beauregarde. i need juicing}

so we decide to go to the new target that's just opened down the street from us. {we are truly sick.} so this new target has the absolutely coolest escalator in the history of the world. you can put your cart on the escalator next to you and it goes up...right next to you!! 

{this may be old news for some, but for me this new-fangled contraption is absolutely mind-blowing}

...

{it's also kind of pointless bc they still have carts upstairs...}

after spending about a half-hour in the $1 bins (in which i managed to almost buy plastic bowls, a foam ax, a cat-in-the-hat tote bag, war-head frozen pops, a complete phineas and ferb set of flatware...) we then spent another half-hour in the make-up section (came there for waterproof mascara. left with eyeshadow and new mascara...which is not waterproof). we then traipsed off to the home improvement section to find some more wall-hangings for when roomie moves away {currently, the owner of our entire home-decor is tricia...}. it was at this point that tricia had to actually sprint across the gigantic super-target to the bathroom in the front of the store to hurl up her dinner...

{somebody had to christen the new tar-jay!!}

later, tricia returned to find me perusing the underpants department {in the meantime, i somehow found the self-discipline to pass up a new iron, a portable island, a complete set of frog accessories for the bathroom, a new pink lamp, cast iron pans, a silk robe, new jars to keep my cereal in, the entire sharpie and post-it aisle....}. she had to leave again to be sick once more before i checked out. she then proceeded to tell me about the lovely person in the stall next to her. this woman came into the bathroom humming a sweet little tune. the musical mistress entered the stall {still humming}, only to make some apparently musical toots. the explosive diarrhea coming from this woman was continually accompanied by a combination of humming and grunting. as tricia washed her hands, the woman emerged from the stall {seriously? you wouldn't hide out in the stall until there was complete silence? isn't that like public pooping etiquette?). she was wearing spandex shorts and nun shoes, and was about 5 feet tall.

{i'm singing. i'm in a store, and i'm singing.}

needless to say we returned home rather quickly. i then had what my mother would call an "ass explosion" {ass explosion: noun. meaning: the completely liquid bathroom experience one has after eating a largely greasy and disgusting meal, the kind you need to make a mad dash to the bathroom for...the kind that sneakily seems like a fart but ends up to be sooo much more.... often happens in public. often precluded by a nasty gurgling in your tummy. pardon my crass-ness}. the smell of our bathroom was a combination between toilet stink, some kind of asian spicy food wafting down from the upstairs, and these wet rags that may or may not have been left in our closet for like 3 weeks. it literally permeated the entire apartment.

{a potentially better title: the cropduster}

all this to say... it may not have been the most perfect roommate date. but it's evenings like these that make great stories later. suffering together (in putrid odors and in fresh fragrances) is something that strengthens a friendship. it's that gut-wrenching (in this case literally) laughter that makes everything you experience in life worthwhile and joyful. it's like my mother has always said:

a friend you can truly laugh with is a friend worth keeping. you need that laughter when life gets hard.

who are the people you can laugh with no matter what?

cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life...

last night, i threw my inhibitions to the wind and experienced the last harry potter movie 3d style and at midnight.

{i may or may not have dressed as hermione granger}

{i felt a wide range of emotions at the so-called "epic conclusion"}

excited...

nostalgic...

nervous (just in case they missed some significant parts..

freaking exhausted...

potentially mutating into a chipmunk...

and gangsta {grifs for life, yo)

it was bittersweet, which is much like the book. i laughed, i cried, it was beautiful!!!

b)ut it has me thinking about the bittersweet symphony of my life right now (thank you very much, The Verve). i'm currently finishing up the last 2 weeks working with youth at one church and my other job pushing papers at continuing ed, and i'll be starting a new job in august. always, when i've taken a new job, i've been leaving something bad or unhealthy or ugly for something new, and a new job usually brings a sense of relief. this time, i'm leaving good for better. i don't feel relieved...i feel bittersweet.

"i'm a million different people from one day to the next"

{seriously, how good is that song?? }

what are the bittersweet symphonies of your life?

and how bad freaking ass was harry potter 7.2??

an apple pie, baked w/ bitterness...

this morning, i woke up and i just felt off my game. i don't know if you've ever had a day like this: when you feel like you're just not you. you look in the mirror and you see all your faults instead of your beauty. you feel heavier than usual. your self talk says "you just made an idiot out of yourself" than "you can do it." even your favorite foods just don't taste the same. in other words, you're a real eeyore:

{ironically, when my best friend moved away in elementary school, i claimed that eeyore was my new best friend...}

that's how i felt this morning. and i faced a family reunion (a completely DRY family reunion, if ya know what i mean...). i knew i needed to get myself together. i also knew i needed to bake an apple pie. my mum is not a good cook; mostly she just hates to cook, even though she's pretty good at it. so every year for my aunt's fourth of july party, she asks me what she's making, buys the ingredients, and has me make it. so this year, i baked an apple pie (very patriotic of me, i know).

baking apple pie always reminds me of my college mentor, morgan whiteleather. the first time i ever came to her for mentoring, she had me over at her apartment in new wilmington. this apartment was like...one of my favorite places in the world. she had candles melted on wine bottles, and her bathroom had inspirational quotes on the walls (really handy if you just needed that extra push!!). it always smelled like nutmeg or some kind of baking spice. we baked an apple pie together using morgan's grandmother's recipe (the key is to use lard in the pie crust...haven't made it that way since, i just used this recipe).

as we baked the pie, morgan said to me:

the great thing about baking is you start with ordinary things. you mix them together and they look disgusting; they become a total mess. then you hand it over to the oven, and it turns it into something really incredible. that's what we're going to do. we're going to talk about the ordinary things in your life. we're going to talk about the messiest of the messy. and we're going to give it over to God, and over time, God will turn that mess in to something spectacular.

on the surface, this might sound kind of cheesy, but truly, these were probably some of the most profound words ever spoken to me, and it has become the mantra of my life: God really does some spectacular things in our messiest situations. so this morning as i baked my pie. i made a complete mess out of the kitchen (i would literally sell a kidney for a dish-washer), and i thought through my own mess. and pulling that perfect pie out of the oven really was what i needed to remind me that God is at work, even in my ugliest, most cynical and dark moments.

{this is legitimately my pie. check out the stars i cut into it. you better watch your ass, martha stewart!!!}

most people say that the secret to a scrumptious baked good is that it's baked with love. well, i bake with bitterness, and it turns out pretty sweet to me!! {oh Lord, i really do sound like i'm channeling martha stewart's spirit...}

what are the things that you do that put your pieces back together when you're having an off day?

i was runnin...

you know you have an addiction to running when....

• i'm still covered in 1/2 healed poison oak/ poison ivy
• it's 85 degrees and heavy humidity
• it's 3 in the afternoon (meaning traffic starts picking up)
• i already took a shower today
• yet i'm on my way out the door for a long run