Listen!

Ah, music. The world would be BLAH without it. I thinks it's so interesting how one song can mean so many different things to everyone. Songs that make me happy might make someone else sad, and songs that got me through some really tough times in my life might make other people want to slam their head into the wall. It's all how your interpret it, man.

Most of my earliest memories involve my mom singing and dancing around the living room, or riding in the car with my dad, watching him beat on the steering wheel to the rhythm of whatever was on the radio. My uncle plays the guitar and piano and sings, so holidays in California were always full of music. I've always been into classic rock, but my musical horizon has been widened expansively since the SK era of my life began. He hearts Pearl Jam. BIG TIME. He's into singer-songwriter stuff and music that has a bluesy feel to it. There is ALWAYS music playing at our house.

We love live music and have found some amazing new artists at the various music festivals we've been to over the last almost 3 years, and we've been lucky enough to see some of our old favorites. Ray LaMontagne, The Raconteurs, Iron and Wine, and Ghostland Observatory are some excellent acts we've been happy to lay in the grass and listen to.

If you hop into my car with me and come along for a drive, this is likely what we'd be listening to:


HelloGoodbye. Here (In Your Arms) is my favorite song on this album. I turn it up really loud.

Explosions in the Sky. All instrumental. They rock, and are great to listen to when driving in the rain.

Imogen Heap. She's a weirdo, and I love her. Hide and Seek makes me so so sad I have no vocal talent. She is wonderful.

Yeah, it's a soundtrack. So? TV Carpio's rendition of I Wanna Hold Your Hand thrilled the pants off me, and the gospel version of Let It Be made me a weepy, bawly mess. Great movie, even better music.

Dave. No matter how many albums this band puts out, this one will always be my favorite. I love everything about it, even the cover art, and can still remember hearing Ants Marching for the first time and being BLOWN AWAY by Boyd Tinsley's sweet violin skills. I've had this CD so long that one of the tracks no longer plays, and the black front of the disc is rubbing off.

And finally, the Holy Trinity:



Really, what's a drive in the car without a little ROCK?

What's your favorite type of music? What do you like to jam out to in the car? What do you put on during the weekend while you're hanging out at home? I love finding new stuff - share the love!

When I smell like alcohol, just let me cry

Living where we live has certain advantages - we're close enough to the city that going downtown on a weeknight is still do-able (although my little hungover head might argue that the next morning), we have a YARD, and we live really close to a lot of our friends and all of our family. And when I say "really close to a lot of our friends," I mean that some of them live (or will soon live!) within 1.5 miles of us.

That means we all drink a lot on the weekends and can walk home if we need to.

That also means that we can have impromptu (who am I kidding? I start planning a week in advance) get-togethers during the week. Namely, Thursdays with Sarah and Dustin. Sarah and I are Grey's Anatomy (Grey's, to the hip) fans. SK and Dustin are anything BUT Grey's fans, so they send us off to the bedroom with our wine to watch our show while they do manly things in the living room like wrestle with the dogs, or watch baseball, or braid each other's hair while talking about their feelings.

Wait. Whaaat...?

The 4 of us have tried to get together each week and trade off houses and dinner duties. Last night, the party was at our house. Did anyone else besides us BAWL YOUR HEAD OFF through the scene with the elderly husband and wife?? We were sobbing. SK and Dustin could hear us from the living room and thought we were joking, we were crying so hard. It might have had something to do with the wine, too. Maybe.

I ran to the store on my way home for some last-minute stuff, and ended up being detoured to Wal Mart because the line of traffic to turn into Kroger's was 10 years long. I ran into WM, waved off the cart hander-outer, and grabbed my bag of salad, bag of shrimp, bulb of garlic, and Nilla Wafers. I headed to the check out line, but then thought, "You know what? We have no beer. What if SK and Dustin want some beer?" So I turn around, head down to Aisle 13 (why do I know this, you ask? Oh, just you wait and see...) and go to quick grab a 12-pack. Bottles and cans were the same price, so I grab for the bottles, thinking I'll be classy that way. Too bad I didn't notice that someone had already opened the side of the beer case. I pulled the case up and suddenly a beer bottle waterfall was happening right in front of my face. And right in front of my khaki pants.

11 bottles of beer shattered and spilled out at my feet. Which were in flip flops. My previously dry pants were now SOAKED from the mid-thigh down in cheap, light beer. The noise it made was spectacular and drew curious shoppers from surrounding aisles. Now, it takes a lot to embarrass me usually, but last night, standing in a slowly-widening puddle of beer, drenched from the thighs down, exposed feet completely wet, I wanted to sink into the floor. Or dunk my burning face in a bucket of ice water and pray for the moment to be over.

I didn't want to move because I was afraid of slipping and falling on my butt. Also, there were shards of broken glass all around me. Thankfully, a WM employee walked by at that moment and saw me, frozen, surrounded by enough beer to fill a kiddie pool, and came to my rescue. I thanked her for the help, she didn't demand I pay for the beer, and I hauled ass off the aisle and to the check out line, all the while hearing "Wet cleanup on aisle 13" resounding in the store around me.

As I was paying the checker just laughed, shook her head and said, "you better hope you don't get pulled over--you smell like a bar." I glared at her, swiped my card, and walked out.

Carrying a 12-pack of cans. Oh no Beer, you will not defeat me.

6 Things v.2

I was tagged by Melody to list 6 things I love. Have I mentioned how much I love being tagged? And it seems to always be sweet Melody that does it! Just so you know, I think she rocks.

Here, in no particular order, are 6 things I adore:

1. Apple desserts. Apple pie, apple crisp, apple sauce, apple Jello (is there such a thing? If there is, I know I would love it). Anything apple. Add a little vanilla ice cream in there and holy geez, I'll be yours forever.


2. October in Houston. I have spent the better part of the last 10 years griping and bitching about how much Texas weather sucks balls, and just this year can I say I actually LOVE the weather during the month of October. It was cool enough to keep the windows open most nights, the mornings were crisp, and the humidity was low. I am officially a big fan of October.


3. Dial's new Yogurt Honey Vanilla body wash. Oh my heavens, this stuff is divine. I bought it because my skin gets helplessly dry during the winter months (weeks?) here and not even my arsenal of Bath & Body Works lotions do anything to alleviate the itchiness. This stuff claims to "Refresh[es] Thirsty Skin." OH BOY, DOES IT. I've been using it for 3 days now and I haven't had to apply any lotion to my arms or hands. Also, it smells amazing on my skin and I have found myself randomly sniffing my forearms throughout the day. I haven't even worn any perfume the last few days because the smell of the body wash makes me sublimely happy.

4. American Eagle Boyfriend jeans. I am a jeans and t-shirt girl. I am thankful every day that in my office, getting dressed up consists of putting on my "nice" jeans, wearing a less casual than a t-shirt top, and heels. I bought these jeans last month when Saul was going through his "reinvent our wardrobe" phase and we were going shopping like, every weekend, which for me is kind of a mild form of torture but I was really in need of some new stuff so I went along and didn't complain. Much. I hate shopping. I hate the lines, I hate trying things on, and I hate that I can no longer go into any store and pick up anything I like and KNOW it will look good on me. Because of these reasons, I haven't bought staples in my wardrobe, like jeans, in YEARS. I saw these jeans and (UGH) tried them on and fell in love. Usually, I don't go for the pre-destroyed look either, but these were too cute and fit too well to pass up.


**By the way, I am not getting paid to mention either of the above 2 products. I wouldn't mind if Dial or American Eagle contacted me about being a spokesperson, though. Just sayin'.

5. Crawfish boils. I can't wait for late Spring, when the crawfish are back in season. It might look weird--a bunch of people sitting around a table, dismembering boiled "mud bugs," eating their tails, and then sucking out their brains--but don't knock it til you've tried it. It's very much a social event and to me, there is nothing better than gathering a group of friends and family around a rickety picnic table covered in butcher paper on an evening in May for a feast of crawfish, potatoes and corn on the cob. Oh, and beer. There MUST be cold beer.


6. The Twilight books. SHUT UP. I am ridiculously in love with Edward. RIDICULOUSLY.



I tag: Liz, Heidi, Sorrelle, Chandra, Karen, and Mama Kat.

**That last tag is really more of an experiment. I totally heart her blog and read it all the time. She has a ton of readers and a bunch of regular commenters and I want to be like her when I grow up. She occassionally comments on my blog and I feel super important when she does. Will she or won't she respond to the tag?!

PS: Mama Kat, I am not a creepy stalker, I swear. Really. I just totally dig your sense of humor and sweet photoshopping skills. Be my friend?

PPS: Sorry if that "be my friend?" came off as desperate. I'm not. I really don't care if you respond to the tag or not. I'm too cool for all this anyway. WORD.

PPPS: Shh...don't tell anyone, but I totally do care.

Change

I was told at an early age by my grandmother that neither politics nor religion were topics of polite conversation and I guess that's stuck with me because I've never been too savvy (or interested, quite frankly) on either subject.

And then I met SK. Son of a preacher man. Liberal Democrat through and through.

No longer could I avoid the issues that I'd been so blissfully blind to for 22 years. He's helped me understand the things that were being discussed in the campaign and since I GET what everyone is talking about now, I felt really invested in this election. It's historical and I feel incredibly proud to have been a part of it.

Gobama.

Writer's Workshop Wednesday

Sigh.

I didn't do my homework again last week. Gaaawd, I am a worthless blogger. And now it's time for the excuses:

We had company this past weekend. Our friends from the far, far North came to visit. We trade off states each year and this year was their turn to travel, regardless of the fact that they would now be traveling with a 7 month-old (heh). We're jerks, I know. BUT, they did travel with a 7 month-old to a ridiculously clean house, which is why I didn't write anything last week. I swear, my house was cleaner this weekend than it's been the whole time we've lived here, which, le gross, but whatever.

When we spend time with Ryan and Leah, The Northerners, it's a party. We stay up all night, consume mass quantities of the booze, and do crazy impulsive things like drive two hours to a lake at 5am after staying up all night. While towing a boat.

This visit, there was no boat-towing, no staying up all night, and Leah was sober the whole weekend, but it was still a great time. It was crazy to see them with a baby, mostly, I think because we weren't around for any of the pregnancy, so last time we saw them we were all able to be immature and irresponsible and then this year, BAM! They grew up and made a kid. The baby was cool, real happy all the time and totally in love with our dog (which I always dig in a person--if you like Bella, you're A-ok in my book). It was fun to be able to play with her and then hand her back over to mom and dad when she (or I) got fussy or bored. It was really awesome to watch the sweet little family they've become. It's our turn to visit next year, and SK and I are already stoked to make a winter trip so we can check out the snow and the ice-fishing and watch as Leah flips her shit when Ryan straps baby to his chest and takes her out on the snow mobile. Hee.

And everyone who knew that The Northerners were coming this weekend, and that we were keeping a baby in our house for roughly 72 consecutive hours have all asked, "Awwww, see? Doesn't it make you want to have a baby now?"

The answer is still a solid, resounding NO. Get over it, people.

Also, we went to the Ray Lamontagne concert. UH-MAZING. Seriously. If you haven't heard him yet, you're missing out and I strongly suggest you go buy his new disc. The show was at a smallish venue and felt very personal and intimate. My only gripe was that he didn't play "Shelter," which is my absolute favorite Ray song and the song SK and I have said we will dance to at our (eventual) wedding. Other than that, though, the show kicked major ass.

So, Ms. Mama Kat, this week I write to explain why I haven't written. Is that copping out? A little, yeah. But I'd have written this post anyway and I liked the prompt so I figured, why not? I'll be efficient and roll it all into one nice little bundle. Also, as stated previously, I am lazy so this covers THAT.

In my less lazy moments I write for various reasons - it's cathartic, I enjoy feeling like I might have made someone laugh, it keeps me the tiniest bit tied to my one-time dream of being a famous journalist, and I like telling stories.

Sometimes I just get in the habit of only telling one a week. I'll work on it. Really.

Thanks for noticing

Some of you might have noticed my blog was down over the weekend--thanks for the texts; made me feel important. If not, then you suck yeah, it was down over the weekend.

Because I'm an idiot.

SK teaches high school. His kids are effing nosy. They thought it would be fun to Google his name and see what they could find. Guess what they found?

The first organic Google response when you typed SK's name into the Google bar routed you to this blog. Because a year ago I wrote a gushy post about how we met and our first date and I used his full name. Yaaaay me.

So I had to delete the post so that Google would see it was gone, and then go through and change his name in every post I mentioned it. Which was a lot. Like, almost every single one. Arg.

I hate high schoolers.

Writer's Workshop Wednesday

Hi blogland. My name is Cheryl and I am a loser who doesn't do her homework. Please don't judge me. One of the reasons is because I am busy working on tons of fun stuff for one of my very best friend's wedding and you can go HERE to see proof of that. The other is, well, I'm easily distracted. I love to read blogs, but sometimes get so caught up in laughing at all the funny things ya'll have to say, I forget to write anything myself. So really, it's YOUR fault. Quit being so dang funny and creative and interesting and GIVE ME MY LIFE BACK. I'd really appreciate it.

Tonight's homework from Ms. Mama Kat is to write about something I love to create. Since it's obvious that the thing I love to create is NOT regular blog entries, let's find out what it really is, shall we?

I love, love, wanna kiss it all over it's little face and maybe tickle it behind it's tiny ear a little, love to make Christmas ornaments.

Don't laugh.

I even gave them out last year as Christmas gifts.

Sigh. Ok, call me a dork if you must. SK does. BUT, he also sat with me last year, at the table in our apartment dining room, and decorated an ornament with me because he knew how much I hated to do it alone. And that, folks, is one of the many reasons I love this man. Because while he may not always understand how or why my obsessions manifest, he will sit with me while I indulge in one. AND he will even participate. Swoon.

So the ornament thing came about after my mom and I went to The Nutcracker Market, which benefits the Houston Ballet. It's sometime at the beginning of November each year and is a crafty person's wet dream. There are TONS of booths, selling all kinds of handmade stuff, like candles, soaps, Christmas decorations, food, and ornaments. We walked around the market and bought a few things and laughed at a few others and sampled all the snacks. After walking into our first ornament booth, I looked at a clear ball with snowflakes painted on and said to my mom, "I could make that!" The ornament was probably around $12 and after seeing dozens of booths peddling the same type of wares, I turned to my mom and declared, "I can TOTALLY make that!!"

We went to Michael's right after that, bought a few super inexpensive clear glass balls, some paint and some other pretty accessories and I got to work. I looked to magazines and Christmas linens and decor for inspiration. I got Chandra in on the fun and I am happy to report that I filled our whole (fake) tree last year with different sized glass ornaments.

I'll post pictures later on in the year, closer to Christmas. I have ideas for new ornaments this year, and I would LOVE someday to be able to open an Etsy shop and sell them online. However, since I have issues even staying focused enough to write about them (see first paragraph of this post), that someday is inevitably very, very far away.

I can't even do my homework...

...but I am now officially managing 2 blogs. Call me crazy, but really, that's my life.

I am a multi-tasker. Like, to the point where I get going doing so many different that nothing actually gets completed. Hey, I don't claim to be an efficient multi-tasker here.

I struggle with this daily because it's not as if I can come into work and get my hands into 20 different things and not actually finish anything, ever. I am learning to reign it in and actually tell my boss that, yes, I am swamped today, and no, I can't take anything else on. Because I have grown up in the past 3 years and have found that this is acceptable in the work place, my quality of work has improved and that makes me a happier person.

At work.

Do I apply this same time-management philosophy to my daily life?

Ummm, no.

Welcome to my newest project. This is something I am actually going to HAVE to keep up with because I'm doing it to help 10 other girls stay informed on the details of one of the biggest days of my best friend's life. So, yeah, you can pretty much guarantee THAT blog will stay current. AND be super cute, because it's a representation of Sarah and Dustin, so duh, it's gotta be super cute.

And whaaaa whaaa whaa...I'm not crying about anything, so give me a break. I love Sarah and Dustin and I'm stoked about managing the blog. I just want to lay it all out there and let you people know what's going on in my world and why I might be a bit absent from this blog.

So don't judge me if it suffers. Undoubtedly, it will. Instead, just go see what I've done over here and be content in the knowledge that I am still alive and well and haven't tried to paper cut myself to death with a bridal shower invite.

Cute suit, but will it pass the Fruit Test?

I am finding some seriously awesome shit on the Internet today, people. It feels a little like Christmas, and I'm loving it.

Don't ask me how I found these places, because really, I don't know. I browse through various blogs and sites, clicking my little heart out, and end up so far from my original entrance page that I often find myself stunned, blinking at the page in front of my face, wondering how the hell I ended up on a site advertising bathing suits you'll look good in while holding fruit.

No joke. The site features videos of models in different types of suits performing different tests such as the "Stretch Test," and the "Frisbee Test," and they all play out pretty much exactly like they sound they would. And then there is the "Fruit Test," which, oookaaay, but HUH? It seriously is a girl in a cute bikini walking toward the camera and bending down to pick up an orange, and then tossing it into the air and catching it with a delighted smile, before turning around and walking back to the place she started, fruit in hand. I don't know about you, but I have never been bathing suit shopping and while picking a suit off the rack stopped to think, you know what? No. Not this one. No way could I look good holding an orange in THIS one.

Maybe that's just me, though.

While I was checking out the other suits and reading what tests they had undergone to be deemed wearable for the 2008 swimsuit season, I found the "Fruit Test," or variations of, applied to a number of different suits. Strangely enough, they were all modeled by the same girl. It makes me wonder if, when she went in for her audition, they asked about her talents and she replied, "I am into walking on the beach, smiling really huge, and drinking Zima. Frisbees freak me out, but you know what I am SO totally awesome at? Throwing fruit in the air and catching it!"

And thus, the "Fruit Test" was born.

Friends don't let friends drunk-email

Remember all the times you went out for a night of dancing (or watching other people dance, in my case) and drinking with friends? You wake up the next morning, reach over and grab your phone, see the "New Message" light blinking and immediately panic.

Who did I call/text last night??

Drunk-dials can be funny and harmless ("You're sooooo my BEST FRIEND! I totally looooove yooouuu!!"), but more often than not they lead nowhere good. The guy you broke up with because of the weird way he pronounced your name ("Hey Cher-ul")? Not so annoying 6 beers in, so how about we call him and tell him that? That of course leads him to believe that you want to work things out and maybe give it another go which is why he is calling you and leaving you messages at 9am on a Saturday.

Why didn't someone just take away my phone? Better yet, why doesn't someone invent a phone with a breathalyzer built-in, that way if I am obviously toasted, I can't dial?

Although it's not for a phone, Google is making strides in the right direction. I've never really jumped on the drunk e-mailing train, but I can totally see how this would be helpful.

Also, just so you all know, I am NOT a cheating floozy. The only person I drunk dial or text now is SK, so THERE. Also, sometimes Sarah. And occasionally Chandra. Aaaand sometimes Elizabeth. But that's it. So don't get your panties in a bunch thinking I still wake up on Saturdays, scrambling to figure out which ex-boyfriend I decided to tease and be cruel to the night before.

PS--Sometimes I also drunk dial my mom. What? You don't?

via Daily Tech