Top 10 Things I Learned From Bed Bugs

It's been a while since my last post. I'm sorry that I'm not sorry. Among many things, bed bugs and their vicious tirade on my apartment have kept me from the computer, leaving me penniless, homeless (for one month), and inspiration-less. Until now. For those of you who have suffered through bed bugs and those of you who will someday, I give you my top 10 lessons taught to me by these appalling creatures.

#10: I am not a flood victim. Stop panicking.

I was on a mission trip to help flood victims when I got the phone call from my roommate about the bugs. The phone conversation went something like this:

Me: Hello?

{subtext: this better be important. But not so important that it ruins my day.}

Roomie: Oh hey, so....we have bed bugs.

{subtext: maybe if I say it really fast, she won't understand and get angry.}

Me: What?

{subtext: You sick shmuck, you. This is a terrible joke.}

Roomie: Yeeaaah, we found them in my bedroom. (silent moment) It's bad. The exterminator comes today.

{subtext: How do I tell her that it's complete and utter chaos here?}

Me: Okay, well keep me posted on what he says.

{Nooooo!!! My life is over!!!!}

After learning about getting rid of bed bugs, I convinced myself quickly that all of my worldly possessions would be going to the trash. I wallowed for about a week in my own misery, sounding like a combination of Eeyore, Green Day, and Tanya Harding.

{source}

{waaaaaaaahhhhhhh, my skate is untied!!!!}

As I was listening to my youth group students {shameless plug} talk about their mission trip experience, I thought to myself: Lindsay, you are not a flood victim. Your stuff is not gone it is just contaminated by bugs and bug poop. Get your OCD on and get it done. And so I did.

#9: I am the real Monica Geller.

Many clean freaks out there think they can be Monica from Friends, but y'all ain't got nothin on me. I went completely ape-shizzle on that apartment and all of my things. Anything that could be soaked in hot water or bleached got dunked into the boiling cauldron of bed bug hell. Anything that could be cleaned with alcohol swabs got sprayed down with 91% isopropyl {mmm, yeah, gotta love it}. Anything that could be washed in the washer got washed and dried twice then ironed and placed in vacuum sealed bags. RAwr! Cleaning Hulk SMASH!!!

{How To Clean Like Monica Geller}

#8: Clothing Piles are terrifying....

So apparently the Bed Bugs like things that smell like you. And I, genius as I am, had taken all my dirty laundry out and sorted them, so that when I returned from my mission trip, I could do all my laundry at once. Ergo, I found many adult (albeit dead) bed bugs in my piles of clothes (which resulted in a potential 3rd trip through the washer and dryer). There will be no more clothing piles on the floor for me.

{Note the clear floor in my bedroom...this is not a typical situation}

{Even a made bed is essential. Shark Week Shark agrees.}

{Laundry piled in a delightful laundry basket that has been wiped down with Clorox wipes. Gotta love that lemon fresh scent...}

#7: Straight-up Isopropyl Alcohol is not an all-purpose cleaning supply.

Yeah, Roomie and I sprayed the living daylights out of our belongings with 91% Isopropyl Alcohol. It was like the time my family had a groundhog living underneath the shed out back of our house. He would poop right next to the pool making it hard to swim. My mom would sit on the pool deck with a super soaker (the kind with the backpack water supply) for the little pooper to come out of his hole. Then she would spray him with enough water pressure to launch him to downtown Pittsburgh. Yep, that's essentially the treatment our belongings got when the Rooms and I pulled out the big guns.

But not all things are meant to go through that. Cheap jewelry (the majority of which is from the Charlotte Russe clearance rack) for example, just doesn't make it.

{Of course, the death of this piece is a blessing. It is SO 2007!}

#6: I have finally found a reason for the existence of thousand-leggers.

Apparently, these creepy crawly...eeeeekkk....things have a purpose in life. They flipping eat bed bugs. Who knew? That's why when one was dancing around in my shower the other day, I went ahead and did a little dance along with it. Sure, his was probably filled fear of the drain, and mine was definitely filled with fear of thousands of little creepy legs, but hey, we did our dance of fear together! And I didn't even kill him intentionally {me picking up the shower cleaning cup and pouring water over his head was entirely incidental}. Er, it's a work in progress...

{Ugh. So freaking creepy.}

#5: When you buy a queen-sized memory foam mattress pad, the manufacturers are liars...

So, through this whole ordeal, I had to get a ridiculous mattress cover (made of industrial polyester...or steal-plated armor, might as well be) that makes me sweat. And quite frankly, just considering laying on that same mattress, cover or no cover, freaks me the crap out. It's almost 2 months since we found them, and I am still waking up in the night itching. At any rate, I decided it would be a totally genius idea to put a memory foam mattress pad between me and the mattress. They are bed bug resistant, they'll make my mattress super comfy, and they'll make me feel better.

I raced home from good ol' Target, ripped open the box, and pulled out the mattress pad. As I slapped it onto my bed, I suddenly felt like Ralphie from A Christmas Story when he opens up the bunny pajamas on Christmas morning:

{source}

{he's a pink nightmare!!!}

The mattress pad takes up about 1/3 of the bed. It's also too long for a queen sized bed. What the label should have said was: "This pad is made for queen sized beds, but only if your queen sized bed is about the same size as an extra long twin size bed."

#4: Staying with friends = bad eating habits

Now, I like to think of myself as a good eater. Some may disagree. I eat a wide variety of foods, including complete junk {kraft macaroni!!}, foods I attempt to convince everyone are healthy but are really not {Freschetta oven pizza, only 1400 calories!}, and foods that actually are healthy {um...the celery that comes with my wings??}. At any rate, staying with friends means not having a whole lot of space to store food. And when I had bed bugs, I couldn't exactly stay in the pesticide and bug infested apartment. So I stayed with friends. And I ate shamelessly some of my favorite foods: spaghetti, mac n cheese, wings, pizza.........

I enjoyed it, but for some reason my waistband did not.

#3: I have way too many clothes.

This is a known fact to most people. My closet is literally overflowing (though it is also color-coded and organized by style....). And yet I am incapable of getting rid of clothes. Here is the list of clothing items I got rid of:

1. One pair of leggings (that had a hole the size of Texas)
2. 4 wool sweaters (one of which I've had since 6th grade)
3. 2 unmatched socks (and only because my toes stuck out of the holes)
4. One nightgown (which I never liked but kept because my mom would have her feelings hurt)

Sign me up for hoarders....

{source}

#2: Essentially all bad things that have occurred this summer can be blamed on bed bugs.

I'll give you a few examples:

Boyfriend: Why are you crying today?

Me: Because I have bed bugs.

...

Mom: Why didn't you wash your hair today?

Me: Because I have bed bugs.

...

Me: (hysterically crying) I don't have any friends. My life is hell.

Boyfriend: That's not true. Why do you think that?

Me: Because I have bed bugs.

You see? These are perfectly legit.

#1: Bed bugs suck.

No matter how much I try to look on the bright side or be a Christian or do the right thing, those little.......fart-for-brains, hooligan, scummy, toe-licking, blood sucking, crumby, blasted.....BUGS are disgusting little vampires sleeping in your bed. They are not fun and not easy to get rid of.

But hey, I'm here. I'm alive. And they inspired me to return to blogging!! {I still hate those motherless twits}

sleep in heavenly peace? really?

before we continue with the wisdoms i've learned so far this advent season, let me remark on how awesome this experience is turning out to be. if you are a christmas hater (or an anything-hater), this whole re-learning joy thing is a fantastically transformative experience. you should try it.

and so we continue...

#7: peppermint mochas @starbucks

other coffee places may try to create a peppermint drink and they may use fair trade coffee and organic milk, but no one makes a peppermint mocha like starbucks...(specifically one barista on mcknight rd in pittsburgh..i'm literally drooling). this is my personal treat to myself. this may not be super wise or even healthy. but when i know it's going to be a stressful day, i treat myself to a lil peppermint encouragement.  

{now available in skinny}

#6: hot metal bridge faith community: redefining my advent season one week at a time...

so i currently intern at this phenomenal church on the south-side of pittsburgh: hot metal bridge faith community. i love this place because you can come as you are, be who you are, and worship Jesus in your own way. hmb is always pushing the envelope on things, and this advent season, we are doing the advent wreath of "tough love." the first candle was the candle of, "get over yourself" and this past week's candle was the candle of "stop buying stuff."

do yourself a favor and watch this video of last week's drama:

{in the faaaaccccceeeee...}

now, this is the lesson i learned: finally someone is giving me a fresh perspective on christmas. finally someone is questioning the way we practice christmas. finally...someone else gets how i feel about the advent season.

because here's the deal: i wonder if part of the reason christmas gets under my skin is that sometimes (not all the time) the idea of the nativity scene seems fake to me. was Jesus the perfect baby who never cried or pooped or vomited? was Jesus' birth in a disgusting, dirty, poopy stable so clean? did mary, after probably hours of painful labor (no drugs or midwife by the way) really sit up, kneel down, and worship the baby she just birthed, the way we depict it in paintings?

{ouch!!}

probably not. the whole thing seems like it would have been messy, chaotic, nitty gritty. maybe part of me likes the messy. i like the realness, the rawness of jesus. ricky bobby might prefer the lil baby jesus; well maybe i'm like that other guy and i like my jesus wearing a tuxedo t-shirt bc he means business but he's here to party too. i like that jesus was kind of an average joe, that he wasn't afraid of sticking his hands in some mud to give someone sight. he wasn't too perfect and glowing and porcelain to be born in a back-alley stable, nor to die brutally on a cross. he wasn't too uppity to offer salvation to the thief on the cross next to him, and he's not too self-righteous to love me.

when i consider the nativity scene as a place of mess and chaos and humility, when i take away the glowing faces and halos, when i imagine the stink and the blood and the mud and the screaming, that actually gives me a good feeling about who Jesus is, and about the nature of his coming to earth. it gives me hope for wretches like me. it gives me peace that Jesus enters chaos to bring order. it gives me joy that he was just as lowly as anyone else.

{would the real Jesus please stand up, please stand up, please stand up...}

#8: frank sinatra saves my christmas...

i had my first major christmas epiphany {note the ironic usage of the word "epiphany" re: christmas} today during a long run. i've blogged before about my love of running that really contains quite a bit of hate. essentially: my addiction to a runner's high. today, i was reminded yet again about how running is 90% mental. as my dear friend, jordan, once said:

i love running because it's up to you. you get to control where you go, how fast you go, how far you go. you can only run as far or as fast as you want to, as you believe you can. the moment you begin to criticize yourself or feel insecure, that's the moment you can't run any farther.

{ps. this quote may be entirely inaccurate. but you get the gist.}

the mental part of running has two parts for me. first, i need to be my own cheerleader. i have to sing incredibly cheesy elementary school motivational songs {we go for the gooooollllldddddd}. i have to remind myself of the wonderful feeling of my pants not being too tight or feeling limber and energized. i have to remind myself to enjoy the beauty of the sky or the smell of the grass as i run {much more difficult when certain really amazing humans decide to leave their doggy doo in the middle of the sidewalk}. second, i have to give myself realistic expectations. am i going to run 26 miles tomorrow? nooope {chuck testa}. am i going to run the entire way up that hella hill? that's a hella no. but i can give myself realistic goals.

my christmas journey is much like this.

i discovered that i've spent the last 10 years disliking christmas, so i don't know how to BE the person who likes christmas. i have to replace those cynical, craptastic thoughts with joyful ones, or they'll just keep coming back. and i'm not just sugar-coating a turd...no, flushing the turd and cleaning the toilet with comet. {yes, that's right. i can use toilet imagery to describe anything}.

ergo...i've decided that over the next couple weeks of advent, my blog will countdown 8 ways that i have learned to love christmas authentically. here's #8:

#8: frank sinatra, christmas trees, and elf romance

{my tongue swells up when i see you....}

so not only do i absolutely love the movie, elf, but i am literally obsessed with the part when buddy goes on a date with jovi. they have the world's best cup of coffee {this tastes just like a crappy cup of coffee}; they look at 85 christmas trees; they ice skate; they kiss; frank sinatra plays a beautiful tune. i love this scene not only because i love coffee and christmas lights and ice skating and kissing, but because this scene does for me what the last scene of the original grinch does for many people: it gives me a romantic sort of hope. and not just an ooey-gooey boyfriend-girlfriend romance. a kind of hope that seems wildly crazy; a kind of hope that makes the world stand still because you enjoy the day so much. the kind of joyful occurrence when you stop caring about all the little things that drag you down {how tight your pants feel, that sniffle in your nose, how tired you are, the 85 other things you need to do, a myriad of unspoken problems between you and the person/people you're with}, and you experience an unbridled joy in what you're doing.

that's the kind of joy i think we celebrate through shepherds and angels singing and wise men bringing gifts. maybe it's that honest-to-goodness, come as you are kind of joy that Jesus brings.

so when's the last time you spent some time with someone and really enjoyed it?
when's the last time you hoped without doubt, loved without fear?
i may not be able to ever erase doubts. i may not be able to change past christmas nightmares. i'll never feel the same way i did at age 6 about christmas. but i can hope. i can enjoy today.

i'll leave you with some frank:

{even when i'm old and gray, i'm going to feel the way i do today...}

a cotton-headed ninny-mudgins in recovery

for many people, the months of november and december serve as a magic-filled, sparkly time to prepare for this mystical time of christmas, when families come together, cheeks are constantly rosy, and calories magically don't count. the weeks leading up to christmas display the ultimate paradox of warm fuzzy feelings in the darkest, coldest time of the year. we live into fluffy ideals of world peace, love, and hope. and yet, for most people, neither a big fat man in a red suit bringing perfectly wrapped gifts nor a glistening babe sucking his thumb in a manger bring any kind of peace or warm fuzzy feeling. for many people, christmas means anxiety...fear...inadequacy...grief. for me, the greatest image of christmas is the one put out at the beginning of frosty the snowman: the first christmas snow. that first blanket of snow that covers up all the dead things of november and winter, all the things that are ugly and starving and sleeping but that will be revealed in the warming of spring.


christmas is like eating a whole lot of cookie dough...it seems like such a good idea at the time.

{i'm havin' a food baby...}

so, typically christmas makes me bitter and cynical. i desire honesty rather than fluffy imaginary happiness. this year, i'm not willing to be pissed for the next 2 months; i'm also unwilling to give up authenticity in order to feel a momentary sense of happiness {even if i am willing to eat lots of cookie dough...}. so for this christmas season, i am going to change my christmas reality and i am going to use this blog to work through some of those things about christmas and about my own christmas experience that make me want to create a santa claus pinata and go to town with a baseball bat...

{i seez a santa. nom nom nom.}

so for this blog, i offer up 8 things that make me want to scream like macaulay culkin in home alone:

{aaaahhhhh}

8. winter is not ugly. it's fugly.

winter may look like a magical wonderland in places like colorado:

but in western pa, winter is like the red-headed stepchild of the seasons: forgotten, dead, and abandoned. our lack of continual sunshine is depressing and ugly. most christmases end up being gloomy, overcast skies over frozen, leafless grounds:

{curse you, photographers, who make this hideous day look breathtaking....}

7. it's so expensive

i don't think i need to even go into the financial burden of the christmas season on a grad student.

but i think the problem lies less in the fact that i don't have the money i'd like to spend on the people i love. it's more about the sense of obligation. 

6. family woes

i'm not gonna say that my family is quite to the point of griswold family christmas 

{look around you, helen! we're on the threshold of hell!}

...that said, family gatherings often do not end well in my household. there's something about the mix of pressure to not spill a giant meatball on your lap (a recent accomplishment of mine) and not to talk about religion and politics and sex and drugs and rock and roll and ..... so wait, what do we talk about?? i love my family. i hate gathering my family together in a way that makes some people feel powerful (the ones who provide food and can afford gifts) and others feel weak (those who accept the charity of others). 

5. my allergy to pine trees

despite my lifelong allergy to evergreen trees, my father has insisted on having a live tree in the house every single year. i consistently dread the month during which going into my parent's living room becomes a complete blur of sniffles and icky-ness. 

4. some terrible christmas songs

not all carols are bad. i will list a few that i think suck:

santa baby

grandma got run over by a reindeer

i saw mommy kissing santa claus

all i want for christmas is my two front teeth

surfin santa

the 3rd verse of we wish you a merry christmas

the alvin and the chipmunks christmas song

...

3. the creepy santa at the mall

i have already been criticized for my dislike of santa in a previous post, and i hope in the next few weeks to break down my walls of bitterness and rebuild my inner child's love of santa claus. but no matter what, i find a stranger dressing up and sitting at the mall and taking pictures with your kids is incredibly creepy.

{ho. ho. ho. you'll shoot your eye out kid!}

2. the combination of red and green

as a lover of art and color and fashion, the combination of red and green makes me want to vomit.

the end.

1. the same old boring story

even the jesus narrative sort of gets boring after the 24th time of hearing it. there's nothing fresh, nothing exciting, nothing thrilling about the story. i no longer have that wide-eyed, child-like joy at hearing the stories of christmas. i'm the grown up in the polar express. i'm the little girl in miracle on 34th street. i'm the curmugeonly father in elf.

the question is, how do i rediscover my joy for christmas? how do i stop investing in a christmas feeling and start giving into the joy of christmas?

i guess we'll find out over the next few blog posts...

top 10 reasons fall is slammin.

so, it has truly been a long time. in order to express my deep apology for my lack of writing, please view this video of aaliyah:

{it's been a long time. shouldn'ta left you without a dope beat to step to...}

that being said, autumn is now here, and in western pa, that means the world around me is displaying the widest range of colors known to the human eye. but that's not the only reason autumn is slammin. in honor of my grand return to blogging, i feel it's only fitting i give you a top 10 list.

10. crunchy leaves, pretty colors

{just imagine the crisp smell and the crunchy sound}

did anyone else jump from leaf to crunchy leaf on the way home from the bus stop as a child?

i did.

like popping bubble wrap, chewing a potato chip, walking on a hard surface in heels, popping a balloon, and sitting on a whoopy cushion, the feeling of stepping on crunchy leaves is so gratifying. one of pittsburgh's most attractive features is its gorgeous autumn leaves. our trees turn every shade you can even imagine, and the rolling hills create a landscape that uses an entire 96 crayon crayola box to depict.

LOVE - LOVE - LOVE

9. pumpkin spice latte at starbucks

ok, so let me confess that i'm not actually a huge fan of this drink. however, when pumpkin spice latte comes out that means that peppermint mocha is just around the corner. GLORIOUS!!! like many autumn things, this beverage is magnificent in theory, but its real purpose is to point to something new. and that's the coming of glittery snow and candy-canes.

8. halloween

obviously, i like halloween because i can wear nothing but underwear in public and call it a costume and no one thinks i'm weird:

{ahhh those teeth!!!}

so in real life, i love halloween so much. i love carving pumpkins and eating lots of candy. i love the creativity of coming up with a unique costume. i love witches and vampires and werewolves. i love how creepy trick or treating is. love it.

7. sam adams oktoberfest

this needs no explanation or comment. take a moment to savor the memory of your last oktoberfest. if you've never had the pleasure, then please stop reading my blog until you have.

6. political ads

probably oktoberfest should be before this, but whatevski. i love political ads because they are incredibly asinine. i love them even more because so many people take them as factual. dear people: political ads obviously skew the truth. and gullible is not in the dictionary. thanks, lindsay.

my favorite political ads are the ones with the whole family in them. so many opportunities for laughing at mom pants and 80s hair.

5. football season

i am a professional sports spectator, but football has a very special place in my heart. something about the violent beating of one another, and the fact that i can't even get my tiny hand around a pigskin, and the way pittsburgh just goes batshit crazy over the stillers. again, a classic opportunity to observe mom pants and 80s hair. woot woot!

my love of sports goes a little deeper though, and maybe this is the real reason i love football season. to use the analysis of lane kim from gilmore girls: "there's something greatly gratifying about stuffing yourself with fattening foods while you watch someone else work and sweat." amen!

4. apples and the apple castle

up where i went to college, there is this little local market called the apple castle. and they sell some of the most delicious foods of all time. in fact, it's like a top 5 list within the top 10 list:

*apples

*apple donuts

*apple cider

*apple donuts

*hard candy

yep. donuts are in there twice. they are just that good. i played scrabble with the 90something elderly man who owns the place. i won. no big deal.

3. cuddly weather

this may be the singular time i ever admit this. i love the disgusting 95 degree days we get in august around here. but there is nothing like a crisp night for my wool blanket or a nice cuddle with the right guy in the right sweatshirt. or the right pillow...

2. project runway

don't hate, fools. i love this show soooooo much.

{season finale tomorrow night!! go josh m!}

1. the beauty of death

on a more serious note, the thing i like best about fall is that the leaves are a reminder of the beauty of death. in the life of a leaf, it is most beautiful in its death. i think so often i am afraid of death, i live my life scared that it will find me when i'm not ready. this reminds me of the beauty life can leave.

even more so, i think about how Christ calls us to die to our old selves and lives. He calls us to take up a cross and follow him. he calls us to sacrifice. in a society utterly obsessed with beauty, it seems paradoxical that when we give up something of ourselves, that's when beauty most clearly shines through.

it's high time we accept our brokenness and our failings. it's high time we let go of what it is that we want right this second to instantly make our troubles go away. it's high time we die to ourselves and embrace the family of God. i pray that this is something you all strive for.

can i get an amen??

step up and dance...

the other day i was driving to work and the kiss morning freak show was talking about this asinine new dance move to replace the dougie called "the swat."

i had several thoughts (in this order):

1. crap, a new dance move? no one has even "taught me how to dougie" yet.

2. unless the dougie involves an imitation of doug funny from nickelodeon in the 90s, the dance probably sucks.

3. i've got to see this video.

4. i don't care how lame this dance move is, i'm pulling it out next chance i get.

the video was fantastically, epically terrible:

{swat it like a beeeeeeeee}

and it inspired me to come up with some of my own dance moves (or resurrect ghosts of dance moves past)...

raise da roof

{da roof da roof da roof is on fiiiirrrreee}

running man

once upon a time in 6th grade, this was my go-to dance move. now, i just look like a complete fool.

{seriously, how hot is this?!?! why am i single?}

seriously dude. find another move.

this video is a combination of the following: what i like to call "crazy eyes" {dancer thinks: if my eyes look crazy enough, people will think i am some kind of innovative dance genius}, what i like to call the "libra dance" {dancer weighs hands like the scales of justice}, and the worst dance move of all time that people perpetually pull out thinking they look cool. you know what i'm talking about.

slow fist pump

always appropriate for overly emotional songs. what i like about my dancing here is that it also exemplifies "team serious" dancers. their faces say, "i stubbornly refuse to have fun dancing to this song. this music is so serious, how can you possibly laugh."

'

telephone

yeah, that's right. i'm talkin' on my phone, it's just coincidental that the song is talking about telephones too.

that girl be craaaazzzzyyy

many of you might be thinking i've lost my mind by this point. well, i've even provided a dance for you.

what, what?!?!


some dance moves are so cool you just say, "what, what?!?!"

{sometimes you even say, "what, what?!?!" to yourself while you're dancing. it's because your so crazy.}

air guitar


air guitar is acceptable in the following situations: 1. when rocking out ridonkulously to 80s hair metal. 2. during the riff in don't stop believin when there are no words. 3. at junior high youth group. 4. anytime jimi hendrix is playing.

air guitar is not acceptable when the guitar part is the repetition of 4 chords.

get ready for a hodown...


setting aside the fact that this outfit alone would make my mother smack me for looking too redneck, i absolutely love it when people try to do line dancing to non-country music. or (as in this case) country music that really doesn't have that folk-like beat.

{note: although i do not know how to line dance, i feel this is more than acceptable line-dancing skill}

dancing with myself


nothing says pathetic more than single girls dancing by themselves or with another girl at weddings, dances...cover-band concerts...seriously ladies, keep the imaginary boyfriends to the privacy of your own bedroom...

{you can really tell that i ate an entire box of pasta and 6 meatballs b4 shooting this video, as i hold my belly like it's going to hold back the gurgling going on in there...}

so gangsta, i'm so thug


i love it when people try to pretend they are from the city. this totally includes myself. i'm from the suburbs. i don't even know where compton is...

{but seriously, how badass do i look?!?}

i hate men


throw out a "girl-power" or "man-eater" song, and it's like a switch gets flipped in the mind of every woman. and we turn into these crazy people with attitudes and get these attitude dances going on.

here i have not only a dance which includes "talk to the hand" and the "z-snap," but i'm also wearing seriously the most attractive outfit ever. completely irresistable.

{mmmhmmm...all y'all men better earn the right to talk to me. whateva!!}

this song is my jam


this dance move is truly my go-to. you know when someone gets so into a song and they start mouthing all the lyrics but you realize pretty quickly they know about 2 phrases from the song; the rest of the words they are singing are completely off. yep. this is exactly that dance.

{in the cityyyyy, of shmomp, momp}

i'm too hot to actually dance


lots of girls pull this dance out. sometimes it's because they are self-conscious of their body image and think they'll look silly dancing. sometimes it's bc they think they are too cool to dance. sometimes it's bc the dress they are wearing is too tight to actually pull out dance moves. sometimes it's bc they really need to fart.

the keith mccarty dance


every since i was a small child, my father has had approximately 2 dance moves (really one bc they're the same weird move with different hand gestures). and since we were able to do the dance, my brother and i have been imitating him.

{what's necessary for this dance: a completely redneck song to dance to. save a horse ride a cowboy would also be acceptable. and anything by jimmy buffet.}

overdramatic singer


this is the universally known dance for "don't stop believin." you know when someone just gets so into the lyrics of a song...and they just abandon all sense of what's socially acceptable and what's not. i'm actually a huge fan of this dance move.

master of karate


much like the dayman and mac from it's always sunny in philadelphia, i too am a master of karate (and friendship for everyone). and i have witnessed far too often people who feel karate can be a substitute for dancing. i sometimes like to call this the "jackie chan dance."

and on that note, i'll leave you to think of your own dance moves. please share with me what you think are the best dance moves you know. and by best i mean most ridiculous.

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!