The last two are, of course, my own. : )
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Five Weeks
In case you hadn't guessed, I'm pretty excited about meeting Maayan--five weeks from today! In honor of this, I will now post five of my favorite pictures of Ben Lovett of Mumford and Sons.
The last two are, of course, my own. : )
The last two are, of course, my own. : )
Monday, March 14, 2011
Monday Music: Old Crow Medicine Show
Old Crow Medicine Show is new to me; I looked them up on YouTube because they are one of the three bands playing the Railroad Revival Tour that Mumford and Sons is playing. This was the first song I listened to, and I rather like it. I look forward to seeing them live.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Friday, March 11, 2011
On Women
A few months ago, I blogged about being "un-friended" on Facebook by someone I thought would be a friend for a long time. I confessed that the friendship had been through a tough spot or two (being told I put others down to make myself look better, and then subsequently being uninvited from her wedding, or having a total stranger invited along on my birthday celebration so I wouldn't "feel weird being the only single person there") and that in the end, it was a bit of a relief to not have to watch what I say anymore, or to pretend that I supported her staying with her husband, who spent the first six months of their marriage cheating on her with multiple women.
I'm not going to lie. I'm still a little angry. I put a lot of heart into that friendship, and in the end, all I had to show for it was the ripped-up pieces of a letter she wrote me saying "the magic is gone" that I threw in the garbage before scooping the contents of the litter box on top.
I've talked with people about it--mentioning how I was "friend-dumped" via a letter, and what she said in it. Every single person I have spoken to agrees that it's very strange, and that she must have some serious problems in her life to write such a thing to someone she once counted as a friend. In all honesty, every person I've talked to about it has said some variation of, "Wow, she must be miserable." General consensus has been that as I grew happier in myself--as the weight came off, as I found a new confidence that saw me through job loss and unemployment, as I found joy in being silly over a couple of British bands, and making some great new friends through that, she just couldn't stand it.
It's also been said that while she finds herself in her forties, stuck married to a man who repeatedly cheated on her, always wanting to stay in but being dragged to this restaurant and that bar so he can socialize night after night, that she perhaps started to resent that I still represent carefree singlehood and not settling for an asshole out of fear of being alone. Since I met her, she hated being single and would sleep with every inappropriate man available to avoid being by herself.
Yes, there is bitterness in my words. Maybe because 2010 was shaped in some ways, by bitchy women. A woman who would write a letter professing that she wishes me all the best in life, but "the magic is gone" and we just can't save this friendship--that's a bitch. And every stressful situation I endured with one of my supervisors, which resulted in me losing my job--well, she was a bitch, too. And a recent epiphany had me realizing that Ms. Former Boss, divorced, universally disliked, disrespected and feared by her employees, and always striving to project a perfect image--manicured nails, the most stylish clothes, dyed-blonde hair, several coats of makeup--must be a perfectly unhappy human being. Honestly, I can't imagine any aspect of her life that she can find joy in, and now, a year after she wreaked havoc on my career, I'm starting to just pity her. She can't have many people who like her.
I was thinking about these two women recently, and how last year was bookended by these miserable people trying to force their joyless world views into my life--it is easy, sometimes, to start to think that maybe there really is something wrong with me. Maybe I am unlovable, or horrible at my job.
But that's bullshit.
See, in the last year, I've more than made up for the Negative Nellies. I can hardly believe I haven't known my Swimmy's Ladies forever--I've really only "known" them since July, when I started posting more heavily at the Keane Forum. We befriended each other on Facebook. And even then, aside from Maayan, I wasn't really close to any of them until October or November.
It started in September, when I posted a silly caption on the forum. It's one of many silly threads. People post pictures of the band and invite others to make a caption. I came up with this:
It spiralled from there. Suddenly, Mr. Swimmy was a big forum-wide joke. Then, in November, one forum member complained to the forum moderators that we were talking about "the duck" too much and we were admonished by said mod to contain it to one thread.
It almost ruined the joy.
So I went to Facebook and sent a private message to Sarah, Amanda, and Maayan. We joked about starting a club ONLY for women who love Mr. Swimmy. It was agreed that Lindsay needed to be included. So I started a Facebook group and the magic was born.
For Christmas/Chanukkah, I sent each lady a small rubber duck. I already had my own; I found theirs at Michael's. I sent each Swimmy with M&Ms and Hershey's Kisses. I thought they'd get a giggle out of this modest little gift. They did, indeed, and now these silly ducks go with us on our adventures.
Since November, these ladies have been some of the first people I turn to when I'm feeling sad, angry, stressed, happy, giddy, silly. We vent to each other, we send virtual hugs, we send silly gifts in the mail. I've received Jaffa Cakes from England, Stroopwafels (a yummy cookie) from Holland, mix CDs from New York City, and a Snoopy and some other goodies from Detroit. But more than that, whenever my mood needs lifting, I get that from my ladies.
They even went to the Emergency Room with me in October, as I sat on a bed with Albuterol being pumped into my lungs and my hand gripping a small rubber duck hidden in my purse.
When I think of the friendships I've developed with these women, I'm sometimes overwhelmed by how blessed I feel to have them in my life. I haven't yet met any of them in person--though Maayan and I, of course, have our Epic Mumford & Sons Adventure in six weeks and are both over the moon about it--but I know that they have my back. And I have theirs.
The bitches don't bother me so much. I start to realize that Heather "dumped" me not because I'm unlovable, but because she has deep-seated issues she needs to face. I'm able to pity a boss who made a whole year of my life incredibly stressful, who repeatedly set me up to fail and made dishonest remarks about what she saw in my classroom--because in the end, she still works in a sinking school district, she still has an insane commute, and she still has employees who smile at her while sticking the knife in her back. And I am free of all of that.
It's freeing when you can step back and see that the losses weren't really losses, and that anyway, the gains more than made up for the person who repeatedly brought you down.
On Wednesday night, I finally chatted with Lindsay on the phone--our Detroit girl. Somehow, we've had each others' numbers for a while and never managed to talk. We ended up spending about ninety minutes laughing, chatting, and talking about the day--that will come--that all five Swimmy's Ladies land in the same place for a meet-up. Lindsay and Sarah met in January. Amanda will probably meet Sarah this summer. Maayan and I will meet soon. It's just got to happen that someday, all five of us go to a Keane concert together, with five silly rubber ducks riding along. Maybe we'll even get a chance to thank the Keane guys for making the music that brought us together in the first place.
In the meantime, there's email, Facebook, and Snail Mail, and phone calls. And the satisfaction of knowing that I've gained so much more than I've lost.
I'm not going to lie. I'm still a little angry. I put a lot of heart into that friendship, and in the end, all I had to show for it was the ripped-up pieces of a letter she wrote me saying "the magic is gone" that I threw in the garbage before scooping the contents of the litter box on top.
I've talked with people about it--mentioning how I was "friend-dumped" via a letter, and what she said in it. Every single person I have spoken to agrees that it's very strange, and that she must have some serious problems in her life to write such a thing to someone she once counted as a friend. In all honesty, every person I've talked to about it has said some variation of, "Wow, she must be miserable." General consensus has been that as I grew happier in myself--as the weight came off, as I found a new confidence that saw me through job loss and unemployment, as I found joy in being silly over a couple of British bands, and making some great new friends through that, she just couldn't stand it.
It's also been said that while she finds herself in her forties, stuck married to a man who repeatedly cheated on her, always wanting to stay in but being dragged to this restaurant and that bar so he can socialize night after night, that she perhaps started to resent that I still represent carefree singlehood and not settling for an asshole out of fear of being alone. Since I met her, she hated being single and would sleep with every inappropriate man available to avoid being by herself.
Yes, there is bitterness in my words. Maybe because 2010 was shaped in some ways, by bitchy women. A woman who would write a letter professing that she wishes me all the best in life, but "the magic is gone" and we just can't save this friendship--that's a bitch. And every stressful situation I endured with one of my supervisors, which resulted in me losing my job--well, she was a bitch, too. And a recent epiphany had me realizing that Ms. Former Boss, divorced, universally disliked, disrespected and feared by her employees, and always striving to project a perfect image--manicured nails, the most stylish clothes, dyed-blonde hair, several coats of makeup--must be a perfectly unhappy human being. Honestly, I can't imagine any aspect of her life that she can find joy in, and now, a year after she wreaked havoc on my career, I'm starting to just pity her. She can't have many people who like her.
I was thinking about these two women recently, and how last year was bookended by these miserable people trying to force their joyless world views into my life--it is easy, sometimes, to start to think that maybe there really is something wrong with me. Maybe I am unlovable, or horrible at my job.
But that's bullshit.
See, in the last year, I've more than made up for the Negative Nellies. I can hardly believe I haven't known my Swimmy's Ladies forever--I've really only "known" them since July, when I started posting more heavily at the Keane Forum. We befriended each other on Facebook. And even then, aside from Maayan, I wasn't really close to any of them until October or November.
It started in September, when I posted a silly caption on the forum. It's one of many silly threads. People post pictures of the band and invite others to make a caption. I came up with this:
It spiralled from there. Suddenly, Mr. Swimmy was a big forum-wide joke. Then, in November, one forum member complained to the forum moderators that we were talking about "the duck" too much and we were admonished by said mod to contain it to one thread.
It almost ruined the joy.
So I went to Facebook and sent a private message to Sarah, Amanda, and Maayan. We joked about starting a club ONLY for women who love Mr. Swimmy. It was agreed that Lindsay needed to be included. So I started a Facebook group and the magic was born.
For Christmas/Chanukkah, I sent each lady a small rubber duck. I already had my own; I found theirs at Michael's. I sent each Swimmy with M&Ms and Hershey's Kisses. I thought they'd get a giggle out of this modest little gift. They did, indeed, and now these silly ducks go with us on our adventures.
Since November, these ladies have been some of the first people I turn to when I'm feeling sad, angry, stressed, happy, giddy, silly. We vent to each other, we send virtual hugs, we send silly gifts in the mail. I've received Jaffa Cakes from England, Stroopwafels (a yummy cookie) from Holland, mix CDs from New York City, and a Snoopy and some other goodies from Detroit. But more than that, whenever my mood needs lifting, I get that from my ladies.
They even went to the Emergency Room with me in October, as I sat on a bed with Albuterol being pumped into my lungs and my hand gripping a small rubber duck hidden in my purse.
When I think of the friendships I've developed with these women, I'm sometimes overwhelmed by how blessed I feel to have them in my life. I haven't yet met any of them in person--though Maayan and I, of course, have our Epic Mumford & Sons Adventure in six weeks and are both over the moon about it--but I know that they have my back. And I have theirs.
The bitches don't bother me so much. I start to realize that Heather "dumped" me not because I'm unlovable, but because she has deep-seated issues she needs to face. I'm able to pity a boss who made a whole year of my life incredibly stressful, who repeatedly set me up to fail and made dishonest remarks about what she saw in my classroom--because in the end, she still works in a sinking school district, she still has an insane commute, and she still has employees who smile at her while sticking the knife in her back. And I am free of all of that.
It's freeing when you can step back and see that the losses weren't really losses, and that anyway, the gains more than made up for the person who repeatedly brought you down.
On Wednesday night, I finally chatted with Lindsay on the phone--our Detroit girl. Somehow, we've had each others' numbers for a while and never managed to talk. We ended up spending about ninety minutes laughing, chatting, and talking about the day--that will come--that all five Swimmy's Ladies land in the same place for a meet-up. Lindsay and Sarah met in January. Amanda will probably meet Sarah this summer. Maayan and I will meet soon. It's just got to happen that someday, all five of us go to a Keane concert together, with five silly rubber ducks riding along. Maybe we'll even get a chance to thank the Keane guys for making the music that brought us together in the first place.
In the meantime, there's email, Facebook, and Snail Mail, and phone calls. And the satisfaction of knowing that I've gained so much more than I've lost.
Face
When I lost my health insurance last summer, I ran out of birth control pills. Not a huge deal, what with my slower-than-slow love life, but it did make a difference in my complexion. For a few months now, I've had the worst problem with acne and redness and bumpiness. My skin has felt terrible, and my self-esteem has suffered for it.
Last week, I went to WalGreens for some new facial wash, as I had run out of my Neutrogena. It hadn't really been doing anything for me, so I bought a new kind I hadn't yet tried, St. Ives Clear Green Tea Cleanser
, which is supposed to help with redness.
I'd also had an inspiration--maybe my problem wasn't so much acne as rosacea. I had looked up rosacea online and found that many adults suffer from it without even knowing, and I started to figure that could account for my general redness and all of the non-acne bumps I had on my cheeks. I found Prosacea
, a homeopathic cream, and bought a tube. It's not cheap--a .75 ounce tube cost about ten bucks. But I was reaching that desperate point.
I've been using it one to two times every day for a whole week, and the difference is amazing. My skin is already much smoother, less red, and my incidence of pimples has reduced drastically. It makes my skin a bit dry, but I am naturally oily so I never stay dry for long.
Anyway, it's been a relief to see my skin gradually getting better.
Last week, I went to WalGreens for some new facial wash, as I had run out of my Neutrogena. It hadn't really been doing anything for me, so I bought a new kind I hadn't yet tried, St. Ives Clear Green Tea Cleanser
, which is supposed to help with redness.I'd also had an inspiration--maybe my problem wasn't so much acne as rosacea. I had looked up rosacea online and found that many adults suffer from it without even knowing, and I started to figure that could account for my general redness and all of the non-acne bumps I had on my cheeks. I found Prosacea
, a homeopathic cream, and bought a tube. It's not cheap--a .75 ounce tube cost about ten bucks. But I was reaching that desperate point. I've been using it one to two times every day for a whole week, and the difference is amazing. My skin is already much smoother, less red, and my incidence of pimples has reduced drastically. It makes my skin a bit dry, but I am naturally oily so I never stay dry for long.
Anyway, it's been a relief to see my skin gradually getting better.
Thoughts and Ideas
I have many thoughts and ideas for blog posts running through my mind, and absolutely zero energy to type them up. It's been a couple of days of not sleeping well--not helped by being scared awake at 3:00 this morning by street racers on my street--I'm near the back of my apartment complex and could still hear them as though they were right outside my bedroom window. I had to scrape myself off the ceiling, and then I had to get up and do an apartment walk-through just to ease my mind.
Anyway, with a couple nights of so-so sleep and my super-awesome workout today, I find myself sleepy and lazy and only wanting to lounge on the couch watching "Law & Order: UK" when I'm not tuned into CNN for the latest news from Japan.
Because as frightened as I was waking at 3:00 in the morning to annoying twats burning rubber, I can't imagine the terror, the confusion, and the pain the people of Japan are feeling right now. My heart goes out to them tonight.
Anyway, with a couple nights of so-so sleep and my super-awesome workout today, I find myself sleepy and lazy and only wanting to lounge on the couch watching "Law & Order: UK" when I'm not tuned into CNN for the latest news from Japan.
Because as frightened as I was waking at 3:00 in the morning to annoying twats burning rubber, I can't imagine the terror, the confusion, and the pain the people of Japan are feeling right now. My heart goes out to them tonight.
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
Shifty Powers
My dad emailed this to me yesterday, thinking I'd find it interesting. I did, because I am a huge admirer of all of the Easy Company men, and, indeed, all the men and women who served in World War II. Shifty Powers was featured heavily in the movie "Band of Brothers," so finding such a lovely tribute to him made me want to share it on my blog.
Chuch Yeager was a WWII pilot, and also the first man to break the sound barrier.
"Shifty" By Chuck Yeager
Shifty volunteered for the airborne in WWII and served with Easy Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 101st Airborne Infantry. If you've seen Band of Brothers on HBO or the History Channel, you know Shifty. His character appears in all 10 episodes, and Shifty himself is interviewed in several of them.
I met Shifty in the Philadelphia airport several years ago. I didn't know who he was at the time. I just saw an elderly gentleman having trouble reading his ticket. I offered to help, assured him that he was at the right gate, and noticed the "Screaming Eagle," the symbol of the 101st Airborne, on his hat.
Making conversation, I asked him if he'd been in the 101st Airborne or if his son was serving. He said quietly that he had been in the 101st. I thanked him for his service, then asked him when he served, and how many jumps he made.
Quietly and humbly, he said "Well, I guess I signed up in 1941 or so, and was in until sometime in 1945 ..." at which point my heart skipped.
At that point, again, very humbly, he said "I made the 5 training jumps at Toccoa, and then jumped into Normandy . . . do you know where Normandy is?" At this point my heart stopped.
I told him "yes, I know exactly where Normandy is, and I know what D-Day was." At that point he said "I also made a second jump into Holland , into Arnhem ." I was standing with a genuine war hero ... and then I realized that it was June, just after the anniversary of D-Day.
I asked Shifty if he was on his way back from France, and he said, "Yes... And it 's real sad because, these days, so few of the guys are left, and those that are, lots of them can't make the trip." My heart was in my throat and I didn't know what to say.
I helped Shifty get onto the plane and then realized he was back in coach while I was in First Class. I sent the flight attendant back to get him and said that I wanted to switch seats. When Shifty came forward, I got up out of the seat and told him I wanted him to have it, that I'd take his in coach.
He said "No, son, you enjoy that seat. Just knowing that there are still some who remember what we did and who still care is enough to make an old man very happy." His eyes were filling up as he said it.
And mine are brimming up now as I write this.
Shifty died on Jan. l7 after fighting cancer.
There was no parade.
No big event in Staples Center .
No wall-to-wall, back-to-back 24x7 news coverage.
No weeping fans on television.
And that's not right!
Let's give Shifty his own memorial service, online, in our own quiet way.
Please forward this email to everyone you know. Especially to the veterans.
Rest in peace, Shifty.
Chuck Yeager, Maj. General [ret.]
That's two well-known Easy Company veterans who passed away in January this year--the first being Major Dick Winters. We have so much to thank these men for, and so little time left to do it. Rest in peace, Shifty. And thank you.
Chuch Yeager was a WWII pilot, and also the first man to break the sound barrier.
"Shifty" By Chuck Yeager
Shifty volunteered for the airborne in WWII and served with Easy Company of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, part of the 101st Airborne Infantry. If you've seen Band of Brothers on HBO or the History Channel, you know Shifty. His character appears in all 10 episodes, and Shifty himself is interviewed in several of them.
I met Shifty in the Philadelphia airport several years ago. I didn't know who he was at the time. I just saw an elderly gentleman having trouble reading his ticket. I offered to help, assured him that he was at the right gate, and noticed the "Screaming Eagle," the symbol of the 101st Airborne, on his hat.
Making conversation, I asked him if he'd been in the 101st Airborne or if his son was serving. He said quietly that he had been in the 101st. I thanked him for his service, then asked him when he served, and how many jumps he made.
Quietly and humbly, he said "Well, I guess I signed up in 1941 or so, and was in until sometime in 1945 ..." at which point my heart skipped.
At that point, again, very humbly, he said "I made the 5 training jumps at Toccoa, and then jumped into Normandy . . . do you know where Normandy is?" At this point my heart stopped.
I told him "yes, I know exactly where Normandy is, and I know what D-Day was." At that point he said "I also made a second jump into Holland , into Arnhem ." I was standing with a genuine war hero ... and then I realized that it was June, just after the anniversary of D-Day.
I asked Shifty if he was on his way back from France, and he said, "Yes... And it 's real sad because, these days, so few of the guys are left, and those that are, lots of them can't make the trip." My heart was in my throat and I didn't know what to say.
I helped Shifty get onto the plane and then realized he was back in coach while I was in First Class. I sent the flight attendant back to get him and said that I wanted to switch seats. When Shifty came forward, I got up out of the seat and told him I wanted him to have it, that I'd take his in coach.
He said "No, son, you enjoy that seat. Just knowing that there are still some who remember what we did and who still care is enough to make an old man very happy." His eyes were filling up as he said it.
And mine are brimming up now as I write this.
Shifty died on Jan. l7 after fighting cancer.
There was no parade.
No big event in Staples Center .
No wall-to-wall, back-to-back 24x7 news coverage.
No weeping fans on television.
And that's not right!
Let's give Shifty his own memorial service, online, in our own quiet way.
Please forward this email to everyone you know. Especially to the veterans.
Rest in peace, Shifty.
Chuck Yeager, Maj. General [ret.]
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
Wild and Absolutely, Truly Happening.
Last summer I had a rather sudden friendship take hold with a New Yorker named Maayan--if you read this blog with any regularity, you've seen her name. She's a fellow Keane fan, also a fan of Mumford and Sons, and the awesome lady who got Richard to sign a tour book with my name on it. She's one of my fellow Swimmy's Ladies, and she's the one who called me a few times to check up on me after I landed in the Emergency Room in October. Once upon a time, I thought that online friendships were weird; these days I know better. Thanks to the World Wide Weird, a loud, music-loving actress in New York City and a loud, music-loving music nerd in California were able to meet and become friends. Never would've happened otherwise.
As our friendship progressed, we joked that we are loud enough to create a Wall of Sound over the Midwestern states. With her noise from NYC and mine from CA, people in Nebraska are starting to ask us to keep it down.
Over the last few months we've sent ideas back and forth on Facebook, through email, and on the phone about just how we should meet. I should go to New York City...except that I don't have plane ticket money. We had tentative plans to spend every last cent in our respective savings accounts to go to Coachella, but alas, it wasn't feasible. Finally, Maayan said, "Look, if Mumford and Sons come to San Francisco--and we both know they WILL--I will fly out to California and we will go to the show together.
Yesterday, it was announced that they will be doing a six-stop Railway Tour, starting in Oakland (hey, close enough to San Francisco!). I saw this first thing in the morning on waking up and immediately sent the link to Maayan on her Facebook page. I texted her, too, for good measure.
Duh, of course we had to get tickets!
Tickets went on pre-sale at 9:00 PST this morning. Because Mumford and Sons have had a recent spike in popularity after their amazing performance on the Grammy's, we knew it could be tough to get tickets, so we were both ready and waiting at our computers.
I woke up at about 7:30. Dad came in to my room a few minutes later (tonight I'm home in Stockton, but yes, I spent the extended weekend at Mom and Dad's) and asked if my cats had disrupted the internet wireless tower that, for some reason, has to be set up in the guest room. "No," I mumbled sleepily.
"I can't get online," was Dad's reply. That woke me up.
After some time, he was able to get online with his laptop. I'm not a fan of laptops but if that's the way I was able to get tickets, I wasn't going to argue. Finally, Internet came back on the desktop computer I prefer to use, and I happily logged into Facebook.
At about 8:40, Dad needed to shower. The computer is in Mom and Dad's bedroom, so I had to vacate to give him privacy. He knew that I needed to be back in there by 9:00, and Mr. Former Air Force Officer knows how to shower quickly. Still, I fretted and paced until he opened the door at 8:50 and said, "All yours!"
I raced in and immediately started a Facebook powwow with Maayan. At promptly 9:00, I refreshed the page for buying tickets and got put in a queue because of overwhelming volumes of people.
My heart was pounding, and I was breathing like I'd just gone running. Maayan had the same thing on her computer. Finally, after about 10 minutes, I got through to a page that required a password! I almost flipped out. I was muttering to myself. Dad, sitting nearby, said, "What's wrong?"
"I don't know! I'm...I don't know! I'll tell you later! What is going on?!"
I checked the official site for Mumford and Sons. Aha! A password! I quickly typed it in, fearing that by now, a quarter past, tickets would be sold out for the presale, and our hopes of going reduced to getting tickets tomorrow in the general sale, when scalpers swoop in and gather up bunches of tickets.
But good news! After filling in my credit card info, I received a confirmation that I had two tickets. I called Maayan on my cell phone.
"We've got them!!"
"Mother--- I am hating this site right now! What the hell do we do? Where's this password? I--"
"Maayan! We've GOT THEM!!"
"We've got them?"
"YES!"
"I'm still mad at this stupid site!"
"But we've got tickets!"
It finally started to sink in for both of us, especially once I got a confirmation email and forwarded it to her. Still, it took both of us a while to really start to realize that yes, we're going to a Mumford and Sons show together (only way it could be better is if we were going to see Keane, but that will have to wait) and now she just needed to get that plane ticket.
As of tonight, the plane ticket has been purchased, and plans are being made. We're both planners, so tentative itineraries for her whirlwind trip to California are being considered. And the level of excitement is rising rapidly. I foresee a lot of OMG's and LOL's and other excited exclamations being punted back and forth on Facebook for the next five or six weeks.
So a Wild and Absolutely True Adventure begins. Maayan and Megan, taking Mumford and Sons by storm on a Thursday evening in Oakland. The Wall of Sound is coming to California. It will be epic. It will be fun. And it will be LOUD.
As our friendship progressed, we joked that we are loud enough to create a Wall of Sound over the Midwestern states. With her noise from NYC and mine from CA, people in Nebraska are starting to ask us to keep it down.
Over the last few months we've sent ideas back and forth on Facebook, through email, and on the phone about just how we should meet. I should go to New York City...except that I don't have plane ticket money. We had tentative plans to spend every last cent in our respective savings accounts to go to Coachella, but alas, it wasn't feasible. Finally, Maayan said, "Look, if Mumford and Sons come to San Francisco--and we both know they WILL--I will fly out to California and we will go to the show together.
Yesterday, it was announced that they will be doing a six-stop Railway Tour, starting in Oakland (hey, close enough to San Francisco!). I saw this first thing in the morning on waking up and immediately sent the link to Maayan on her Facebook page. I texted her, too, for good measure.
Duh, of course we had to get tickets!
Tickets went on pre-sale at 9:00 PST this morning. Because Mumford and Sons have had a recent spike in popularity after their amazing performance on the Grammy's, we knew it could be tough to get tickets, so we were both ready and waiting at our computers.
I woke up at about 7:30. Dad came in to my room a few minutes later (tonight I'm home in Stockton, but yes, I spent the extended weekend at Mom and Dad's) and asked if my cats had disrupted the internet wireless tower that, for some reason, has to be set up in the guest room. "No," I mumbled sleepily.
"I can't get online," was Dad's reply. That woke me up.
After some time, he was able to get online with his laptop. I'm not a fan of laptops but if that's the way I was able to get tickets, I wasn't going to argue. Finally, Internet came back on the desktop computer I prefer to use, and I happily logged into Facebook.
At about 8:40, Dad needed to shower. The computer is in Mom and Dad's bedroom, so I had to vacate to give him privacy. He knew that I needed to be back in there by 9:00, and Mr. Former Air Force Officer knows how to shower quickly. Still, I fretted and paced until he opened the door at 8:50 and said, "All yours!"
I raced in and immediately started a Facebook powwow with Maayan. At promptly 9:00, I refreshed the page for buying tickets and got put in a queue because of overwhelming volumes of people.
My heart was pounding, and I was breathing like I'd just gone running. Maayan had the same thing on her computer. Finally, after about 10 minutes, I got through to a page that required a password! I almost flipped out. I was muttering to myself. Dad, sitting nearby, said, "What's wrong?"
"I don't know! I'm...I don't know! I'll tell you later! What is going on?!"
I checked the official site for Mumford and Sons. Aha! A password! I quickly typed it in, fearing that by now, a quarter past, tickets would be sold out for the presale, and our hopes of going reduced to getting tickets tomorrow in the general sale, when scalpers swoop in and gather up bunches of tickets.
But good news! After filling in my credit card info, I received a confirmation that I had two tickets. I called Maayan on my cell phone.
"We've got them!!"
"Mother--- I am hating this site right now! What the hell do we do? Where's this password? I--"
"Maayan! We've GOT THEM!!"
"We've got them?"
"YES!"
"I'm still mad at this stupid site!"
"But we've got tickets!"
It finally started to sink in for both of us, especially once I got a confirmation email and forwarded it to her. Still, it took both of us a while to really start to realize that yes, we're going to a Mumford and Sons show together (only way it could be better is if we were going to see Keane, but that will have to wait) and now she just needed to get that plane ticket.
As of tonight, the plane ticket has been purchased, and plans are being made. We're both planners, so tentative itineraries for her whirlwind trip to California are being considered. And the level of excitement is rising rapidly. I foresee a lot of OMG's and LOL's and other excited exclamations being punted back and forth on Facebook for the next five or six weeks.
So a Wild and Absolutely True Adventure begins. Maayan and Megan, taking Mumford and Sons by storm on a Thursday evening in Oakland. The Wall of Sound is coming to California. It will be epic. It will be fun. And it will be LOUD.
Monday, March 07, 2011
A Week (And More) in Pictures
I actually made a point of taking random pictures for a week in pictures post...and promptly forgot to do it this weekend! So a few days late, but here you are.
I bought a cute baby gift for my friend Melissa (who reads this when she can, so *waves* hi, Melissa!). Don't worry, the gift has been received and the thank-you card sent, so I can post this pic here. : ) Old Navy has some darling baby clothes. Melissa's having a boy, and I thought the koala gear was too cute for words.
"I gots ferocious teef!" growled Harley Dude in his high-pitched voice. Actually, those things can inflict some pain, let me tell you.
For some reason, Millie loves my reusable grocery bags. With a passion. I haven't figured out why. In this pic, she's almost vertical sleeping on them.
I bought a cute baby gift for my friend Melissa (who reads this when she can, so *waves* hi, Melissa!). Don't worry, the gift has been received and the thank-you card sent, so I can post this pic here. : ) Old Navy has some darling baby clothes. Melissa's having a boy, and I thought the koala gear was too cute for words.
I call this "Sunday Afternoon on Le Isle of La Grande Meg" You can see just where I sit, and just how happy the cats are in the Sweet Spot while Mom watches NASCAR.
This one is called, "Monday Morning Cold-Weather Run." Running leggings, hoodie, Keane scarf double-wrapped around my neck. Hair pulled back in severe ponytail.
Cali Swimmy poses with the set to his epic 15-second adventure, "Rogue Wave" after tear-down.
First, a pretty sunset out my living room window. Then a picture of the cat repellent Dad bought me in the hopes it will keep the neighborhood Tom from urinating on my front door. It smells awful, but it's organic. Whether or not its working remains to be seen.
I thought it was about time I take a picture of my ugly but oh-so-useful garden clogs, used for taking out the garbage and spreading cat repellent.
"I gots ferocious teef!" growled Harley Dude in his high-pitched voice. Actually, those things can inflict some pain, let me tell you.
For some reason, Millie loves my reusable grocery bags. With a passion. I haven't figured out why. In this pic, she's almost vertical sleeping on them.
On Wednesday evening, I hauled out my suitcase to pack for a trip to Mom and Dad's house. Harley freaked out completely, not letting me come anywhere near him and running under the bed every time I walked into the bedroom. Finally he ventured out this far, to peek in to the living room. His face here cracks me up. "Is it safe? Did she get the boxes out?"
On Thursday, I drove to Mom and Dad's, and promptly started helping them clean out the fridge and pantry. We got rid of a lot of junk foods and that night I used what we had on hand to make a very nice dinner. I cooked the ham in olive oil with onion,m garlic, the broccoli (steamed it in the microwave for a minute first), zucchini and tomatoes. Then I added the cooked pasta and the eggs, and tossed it all until the eggs were cooked. Topped each serving with a bit of Gorgonzola and Parmesan. It was delicious and we had leftovers, too!
Sunday was Dad's birthday, so we had cake on Saturday evening. Yes, it was marvelous.
On Sunday, we had brunch at High Hand Nursery, a nursery that opened a lovely restaurant that was chock-full of people. The atmosphere is gorgeous and the food delicious. I had a mimosa and enjoyed every drop.
Outside in the nursery:
On the way home, we stopped to look at the sheep and goats that visit Mom and Dad's neighborhood every spring and fall to graze. It's a fantastic program--the sheep are owned by local ranchers who bring them out to graze down the grasslands. It eliminates the noise and pollution of big mowers, and keeps an environmentally sensitive area pretty healthy. The sheep provide a lot of entertainment to the neighborhood, and it's a very green way of keeping the growth down (and therefore, the summer fire hazard low). We listened to them baaing and watched for a few minutes before heading home (that's pretty much their neighborhood to the left of the shot, though Mom and Dad live a mile or so in). I spent the afternoon watching NASCAR and we finished off Dad's birthday cake.
It's been a lovely weekend.
Monday Music: Temper Trap
I'm really digging these guys, between hours and hours of listening to straight Keane music.
Sunday, March 06, 2011
A Love Story In Six Words
My friend, the Purple Magpie, put up this little challenge on her blog. I decided to take that challenge.
What's your love story?
What's your love story?
Friday, March 04, 2011
Complimented
I was reading my news feed on Facebook this morning when I came across a post by Julia Quinn
, one of my favorite authors. Over the years I've read a lot of romance novels, and as my tastes have changed with age, I have found that while other authors' prose is "cheesy" and overdone, Ms. Quinn's books are always well-written, with strong female characters and nice leading men. Her books are always set in England's Regency, which has always fascinated me.
But I digress. The point of this post is about what happened on Facebook this morning. Ms. Quinn posted a little blurb about National Grammar Day, and invited her fans to post grammar-related haikus in the comments. I was about the 10th person, perhaps, to post one, and she immediately responded:
Yes! One of my favorite authors responded to me on Facebook with a lovely compliment. This is just as nice as when Richard of Keane responds to me on Twitter!
, one of my favorite authors. Over the years I've read a lot of romance novels, and as my tastes have changed with age, I have found that while other authors' prose is "cheesy" and overdone, Ms. Quinn's books are always well-written, with strong female characters and nice leading men. Her books are always set in England's Regency, which has always fascinated me.But I digress. The point of this post is about what happened on Facebook this morning. Ms. Quinn posted a little blurb about National Grammar Day, and invited her fans to post grammar-related haikus in the comments. I was about the 10th person, perhaps, to post one, and she immediately responded:
Yes! One of my favorite authors responded to me on Facebook with a lovely compliment. This is just as nice as when Richard of Keane responds to me on Twitter!
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Cat Haiku
But--I hate the box!
Don't wanna ride in the car!
You are a meanie.
Hey, are we there yet?
I'm sick of being confined
Stupid carrier.
We're at Grandma's house!
Bella, Duchess and tuna.
This is not so bad.
What a crazy day.
We shall now begin naptime
On Grandma's big bed.
(Harley, in particular, had a very hard time with the whole round-'em-up-put-'em-in-the-box thing today.)
Don't wanna ride in the car!
You are a meanie.
Hey, are we there yet?
I'm sick of being confined
Stupid carrier.
We're at Grandma's house!
Bella, Duchess and tuna.
This is not so bad.
What a crazy day.
We shall now begin naptime
On Grandma's big bed.
(Harley, in particular, had a very hard time with the whole round-'em-up-put-'em-in-the-box thing today.)
An Afternoon With Shae
In 2007, I got to meet one of my online NASCAR friends, Shae, in person. We bummed around San Francisco for a day, and had a marvelous time.
Fast forward to yesterday--Shae is in California for a whirlwind visit, and we had one afternoon to meet up. I drove to Sunnyvale, where she had been visiting her aunt and uncle, to bring her back to Stockton, where one of her best friends lives. We had some time to kill, so I made a suggestion.
"Well, we can take 880 back and go straight back towards Stockton, or we can take 101 north and stop in Burlingame. There's a Pez Museum."
"We have to go."
I knew there was a reason I liked this lady.
So we stopped in Burlingame, to see the tiny but oh-so-fun Pez Museum. The proprietor has a small storefront shop. The front half is a shop, the back half is the museum. He has one of every Pez dispenser ever made, and tons of other memorabilia. It's obvious that he has a lot of fun sharing his collection, and we had fun taking a look around and chatting with him.
Did you know that Pez are made in Austria? They originally came in only peppermint flavor--PfeffErminZ. Are you seeing where the name came from? The poster pictured below is an original poster--the first Pez dispensers did not have cartoon heads on them, as shown.
The museum also has a small display of other classic toys, including a favorite of Aaron and I. The original Legos came in tiny boxes, so you had to buy a lot of them if you wanted to build anything good. You know, from time to time, I still have urges to play with Legos.
There was one case that housed the "Bad Toys" that have been recalled and/or discontinued for various reasons The atomic kit below was found to have radioactive chemicals in the little jars! (This set, in its original box, has to be worth a lot of money.)
This Cabbage Patch Kid had a mechanical jaw that "chewed" food. Cute, right? (Or not.) It also chewed tiny child fingers and hair, making it a big NO for many parents. Discontinued!
Apparently the Peanuts Pez dispensers are no longer being made, so if you find them, hold on to them (or sell them on eBay for profit).
The first Pez dispenser to have a head was the Casper the Ghost dispenser.
A Pez vending machine!
This was discontinued after about 3,000 were made because the teeny, tiny parts presented a choking hazard. I looked at the man as he explained this and said, "And you've got unopened, original packaging. That has to be worth a lot of money."
"Five thousand dollars," was his blithe reply.
Tinker Toys! Aaron and I had some of these, but we were more into Legos.
Peppermint Patty doesn't get a ton of merchandise, so this has to be worth something--still packaged, no longer made, rare character.
The original Mr. Potato Head toy required...an actual potato.
I just thought this was funny:
All three dispensers are signed by the actors who played those roles! There was also a Charlie Brown Pez dispenser signed by the man who voice Charlie Brown in several feature shows of the 1960s. He comes in once a year with a small group of kids, shows them his claim to fame, and leaves again.
Chateau de Pez:
Pez Art!
My booty--a rubber duck Pez dispenser, some refills, and two postcards.
A huge display case full of Pez dispensers:
Mr. Swimmy approves of my purchase.
Fast forward to yesterday--Shae is in California for a whirlwind visit, and we had one afternoon to meet up. I drove to Sunnyvale, where she had been visiting her aunt and uncle, to bring her back to Stockton, where one of her best friends lives. We had some time to kill, so I made a suggestion.
"Well, we can take 880 back and go straight back towards Stockton, or we can take 101 north and stop in Burlingame. There's a Pez Museum."
"We have to go."
I knew there was a reason I liked this lady.
So we stopped in Burlingame, to see the tiny but oh-so-fun Pez Museum. The proprietor has a small storefront shop. The front half is a shop, the back half is the museum. He has one of every Pez dispenser ever made, and tons of other memorabilia. It's obvious that he has a lot of fun sharing his collection, and we had fun taking a look around and chatting with him.
Did you know that Pez are made in Austria? They originally came in only peppermint flavor--PfeffErminZ. Are you seeing where the name came from? The poster pictured below is an original poster--the first Pez dispensers did not have cartoon heads on them, as shown.
The museum also has a small display of other classic toys, including a favorite of Aaron and I. The original Legos came in tiny boxes, so you had to buy a lot of them if you wanted to build anything good. You know, from time to time, I still have urges to play with Legos.
There was one case that housed the "Bad Toys" that have been recalled and/or discontinued for various reasons The atomic kit below was found to have radioactive chemicals in the little jars! (This set, in its original box, has to be worth a lot of money.)
This Cabbage Patch Kid had a mechanical jaw that "chewed" food. Cute, right? (Or not.) It also chewed tiny child fingers and hair, making it a big NO for many parents. Discontinued!
Apparently the Peanuts Pez dispensers are no longer being made, so if you find them, hold on to them (or sell them on eBay for profit).
The first Pez dispenser to have a head was the Casper the Ghost dispenser.
A Pez vending machine!
This was discontinued after about 3,000 were made because the teeny, tiny parts presented a choking hazard. I looked at the man as he explained this and said, "And you've got unopened, original packaging. That has to be worth a lot of money."
"Five thousand dollars," was his blithe reply.
Tinker Toys! Aaron and I had some of these, but we were more into Legos.
Peppermint Patty doesn't get a ton of merchandise, so this has to be worth something--still packaged, no longer made, rare character.
The original Mr. Potato Head toy required...an actual potato.
I just thought this was funny:
All three dispensers are signed by the actors who played those roles! There was also a Charlie Brown Pez dispenser signed by the man who voice Charlie Brown in several feature shows of the 1960s. He comes in once a year with a small group of kids, shows them his claim to fame, and leaves again.
Chateau de Pez:
Pez Art!
My booty--a rubber duck Pez dispenser, some refills, and two postcards.
After the museum, we drove back to Stockton, where Shae's friend met us at my apartment complex. It was lovely to see Shae again, and to have a fun little mini-adventure.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
Wordless Wednesday
Welcome to Wordless Wednesday! If you want to know where a pic was taken, leave a comment and I'll reply. All pictures were taken by me.
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