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June 05 baby babyLast night, Eric and I were on board for nursery duty at church. We've already babysat the 4-6 year olds (reminding me of a certain "Deep Thoughts" ... "A child's face can say so much. Especially the mouth part of the face"). But last night gave me insight on the meaning of babies to an adult life, I think.
You know how, as you get older, time seems to go faster and faster? I've learned that, when your time is occupied making sure a baby doesn't poop, choke, hurt himself, cry, get sick, or starve, time stands fairly still. All night last night, I kept looking at my watch, announcing - MAN! It's only been 5 minutes!
...and we only had 4 babies and, aside from one who cried his face into a tomato, they were all really good.
I remember when I was a kid in elementary school, time was torture. Sitting there in that hot classroom, listening to the hands on the big clock over the doorway click and echo, click and echo...ever so slowly....
It's interesting to think about how children are the international symbol for time. Time is often measured in generations. For women ... having children is linked to your 'biological clock". Adults secretly see themselves as the children they've always been - given way to however many years they've been around. Time is unfathomable.
So is a baby's eternally slobbery chin. May 28 Who Wants Kool-Aid?!?When I was in Destin, I was fortunate enough to have an awesome, beachside condo to stay in - courtesy of some new friends of mine.
The long 7 hour drive was all worth it when I got my key and walked into my big, beautiful condo. It was gorgeous, spacious... breathtaking! And I did the whole "the hills are alive" bit, complete with outstretched arms and twirls, as I checked out my luxurious weeklong accommodations. I had a swimming pool at my disposal, jetted tub, full livingroom, dining room, three bedrooms... I felt like a Drummond! (Whachoo talkin' 'bout Willis??!)
I was additionally thrilled to find that it had a large deck with a table and rocking chairs to sit on at night to watch the waves crash into the sand. I stepped out onto the deck to admire the view and soak in a little saltwater breeze, but when I went to walk back in, I hit a snaffu.
I'd somehow forgot that I'd shut the screen door. Yes, I walked right - smack into the screen door. I walked into it with such force that I knocked it off its track. I thought for sure that, within the first 5 minutes of me being in the condo, I'd already ripped an exact replica of my own sillouette thru the screen door. Much like the Kool Aid man. Luckily, this was not the case.
The first thing I thought was, "MAN, I hope nobody saw that!". The second thing I thought was "MAN, I've gotta tell someone about what an idiot I am!" at which point I left a message on Eric's phone about the debacle.
God's got a funny way of keeping us humble, huh? Yeh, reeeeeal funny! (I hear your cackles, Patresa!) May 22 Coastal MadnessThis past week, I have spent writing songs in Destin, Fl. Yeh, yeh, i know... "writing" -- as in, laying out on the beach, watching the waves crash, listening to the sound of my pina colada being slurped thru a straw. I wish. We actually wrote three awesome songs. And at night, my cowriters played in a band at a bar. So, to show my support, I would go for a while.
Sitting at the bar, by myself was great in the respect that I never had to buy a drink, and also great in the respect that I encountered some very... interesting individuals. The first was a 60ish gentleman from New Orleans who spent the night telling me the history of Buddha and Jesus (Jesus was apparently a big fan). The next night was spent as another older gentleman who was pretty sloshy at the time, discussed the profound subject of 'the beautiful people'. He told me that, see, there are the 'beautiful people', and there are the 'not beautiful people', and those people have a handicap, so they should be treated as such... they need to be helped along in life. Not sure where I fit in, in the spectrum, but I'm pretty sure that he was one of the beauties.
Then, two other men, friends that I'd been hanging with, were about to leave and got the bill from the bar. Over $200. They had ordered like 15 shots. (one was for me - but the only thing I drank all night, beside diet coke, thank ya).
Interestink. May 11 ...Next?Last week, Eric and I went to a funeral. It was for a dear elderly friend of mine who was in hospice for 3 (count 'em) years. The interesting part of the story unfolds in the back room, where I actually was to perform the music (yes, I wasn't even in the sanctuary during the ceremony). But anyway, there was a funeral home staff member back there with us through-out the service. A large-bodied, but short man probably in his 60's. He ran the tapes, pushed play on the cds, turned on my microphone, etc.
But Eric and I were SURE that he was going to die on us, too. He would come back there from walking thru the sanctuary and be wheezing, nearly hyperventillating, completely out of breath... could barely speak. So, as he wheezed, he he put his hand alternately on mine, then Eric's shoulder and, I mean, he put ALL his weight on us. So much weight that we couldn't hold our shoulders straight and it was actually painful. As he did this, he explained that he just had his fourth double bypass operation and how he tends to just fall asleep at the drop of a hat....
He seemed closer to death than the woman I knew that just died.
And thru-out the funeral, Eric and are are conferring "okay, who's gonna stop the cd if he falls asleep or dies..."
All I could think was ... well, I guess he's in the right place. And yes, it's sad, but, c'mon - a guy who works in a funeral home obviously isn't shy about death... so it ended up just being ... ironic. May 09 Cosmic signs and 'roid cremeRecently, Patresa had a blog entry all about signs... looking for signs...reading signs... signs, signs, everywhere a sign...
Today I was at the library and I found a book called "What Matters Most" by Renita J. Weems - ten lessons in living passionately from the Song of Solomon and here is an excerpt that I read...
"...There are those moments in your life when you find yourself called upon to decide upon something, between some things, and somewhere deep inside you, you know that this decision will cost you...You are at a critical intersection in your life, a fork in the road, a shift inside...."
uhhh, hello?? It's like God is an FBI agent...and He's trailing me.
In other news, I also checked out a cd from the library by "Tuck and Patti" and let me tell you - phenomenal. Just Tuck's delicious acoustic guitar and Patti's lush, intimate powerful jazz vocal. Unbelieveable. But, I have to admit, I can't get past the name. I just don't like it. It makes me think of hemorrhoids. It makes me think of the one time my Harley-dude bass player announced that his 'Roids were flaring up (yes, he was a poet). I think I could have very well have answered "Have you tried a Tuck and Patti?"
I know, I feel sacrilegious saying it. They're so great. Really, check them out. And don't forget their on-contact cooling action. May 07 I've got the toastiest toast around!A brief follow up on my previous post:
This weekend, I was flipping thru channels and when I got to CMT, I heard a voice on there that I recognized... I eventually realized that it was ME! I was like, what the hey???! Then I realized that I was singing "Boot Scootin' Boogey" and it was for that Playstation game I was telling ya'll about. Apparently, the thing I did for the ad campaign, not for the actual game! So, anyway, this is more exciting to me, because that means that anyone, across the country, might hear me!! So listen for it!! Then you can say "wow, Wendy, you did a great job oversinging and acting drunk!!"
But more importantly (and per Patresa's urging), I'm happy to announce that, Eric and I are proud parents of a toaster oven. What? What did you THINK I was about to say, fool?!
We got it at a yard sale. I've always wanted a toaster oven. Allllways. And now I have one. I will say that, while I do not recommend certain things like trying to 'un-stale' a taco shell, it's amazing how many uses there are for a toaster oven. Not only could i actually make cookies, casseroles, etc... it, but I can make things like:
a crunchy, toasted bagel sandwich with cheese all melted on top
a crispy cheese filled tortilla
a mini pizza with tortilla, fresh basil, and cheese - crispy deliciousness!
grilled cheese sandwich without all the oil needed with a skillet
(I'm sensing a theme here that starts with "ch")
leftover pizza (complete with crispy toasty crust and melty goodness!!)
toast (doysville!) - but the clever thing is.. I can put things on toast before toasting - like peanut butter - but watch out! that PB will burn the roof of your mouth like no othah!
Anyway, you get my drift. Is there anything I forgot!? Toaster oven tips! ? Leave 'em in your comments, my toasty-goodness friends!
April 25 Country Music Hall of ShameWatch out all you Playstation junkies! You just might be playing and hear my voice. My raggedy, jumping-around-the-livingroom-like-my pants-are-on-fire-voice, that is.
I got a call to go record a sound clip on this new Playstation Karoake game. I was to sing a portion of "Boot Scootin' Boogey". Recording was to be done at CMT. That's Country Music Television. A pretty cool opportunity, I must say. I've gotten the opportunity to do some commercial recording - you know, jingles and tv commercial beds. But, I'd never even been inside the CMT building.
So I was excited to show 'em what I was made of.
However, when I got there and received instructions ("What's my motivation?" ;-), my singing instructions were as follows: "You need to sound like a regular person. So, don't try to sound particularly good. Sing like you've been doing jumping jacks. Oversing and try to sound like you're drunk. Back way up from the mic and shout it."
So. I'm happy to say that I did a great job singing badly. I will be proud when my proud piece of work comes out and I can impress all my friends with my well-honed vocal prowess.
I'm also kind of wondering why exactly, it was me that they called.....
Oh well. It's a check. And it was fun. When I told the producer how embarrassing it was to sound so bad, he joked to me "Yeah, I know. You'll never work in this town again".
Unfortunately, that may be true.
Altho, come to think of it, there's a lot of successful suckage in the music biz. Maybe this IS my big break! |
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