Make new friends, but keep the old...

Friendship should be easier. It just should be. Yeah, yeah, yeah… if it was so easy would it be worth having. Whatever. Making friends. Keeping friends. It should all be easier.

You see? This was easy.  My birthday party around age.... uh.... 4 maybe?  Doesn't matter. It was easy because your friends were the neighborhood kids and the ones you knew at school and/or church. Easy peesy cheddar cheesy. (I'm the one rocking the pink pants with the big Cookie Monster applique on the leg.)

Red pants and a yellow and blue striped shirt. It must have been the 70s!

  But no, it never stays easy.  And that said, I am a pretty lousy friend. I really am. I forget birthdays.  I never send Christmas cards. I totally hate to talk on the phone. I mean, there’s e-mail so why do we have to talk on the phone? I respond pretty quickly to e-mails whereas I can ignore a voicemail for ages. Which is kind of ironic because I hate it when people forget my birthday or don't, well, don't do whatever it is I think they should do as my friend.  Whatever the hell that is.

Maybe if we dressed up and wore tap shoes more often, we'd have stayed besties past kindergarten.

Every few years I go through… I wanted to call it a frienaissance, but according to the Urban Dictionary the definition of that is “An activity to renew your relationship with a friend.”  And that’s not really what I do. What I do is go through a period of feeling kinda mopey and a wee bit sorry for myself because I would like to have more friends.  Or to see the friends I have more often.  Or for my friends to want to see ME more often.  And all this, of course, requires a change in me and heaven forbid I have to change me.  Perish the thought! (please interpret this with the appropriate sarcasm)

Don’t get me wrong – especially my friends who are reading this – I have some good friends. Hell, I have some GREAT friends.  

Anyone need a lift?  This is my friend Michael circa 1988. Sadly, he passed away a couple of years ago after being hit by a car while trying to rescue a cat that was injured in the road.

We're fabulous and we know it.  You should have seen the shoes!

 

I love the looks on our faces in this picture. I wish to heck I could remember what we were laughing about though. 

But something it still not right.  Is it me? Is it them? Is it all of that?  I'm not quite sure. I only know that it's hard to make friends as an adult.  And with busy lives, it's hard to keep them.  Hard to make time for them and if you don't make time for your friends and work on that relationship, you'll lose it.  

I started thinking about this a few weeks ago and while I do not make New Year's Resolutions, I made the decision that I need to work on my friendships and to find avenues for making new friends.  I want more than I've got from the relationships I have and it's up to me to work on them.  I have tried already in some instances and more or less been rebuffed, so I'm leaving the ball in those respective courts and if those friends want to continue to have any kind of relationship with me, then it'll have to come from their end before anything else comes from mine. 

Of course, it's perfectly natural that some relationships last longer than others. I've just always thought if someone was your friend then they were always your friend (I am frequently quite naive).  I continually realize that is not true. I'm saddened by that, but hey, and so it goes.  We grow and change to move apart, but dangit, it still should not be so hard to make friends as an adult!

We are too adorable for our own good!  Love this guy!

Cute photo with some great people that I never actually talk to anymore.  Contact is sporadic at best.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this post anymore to be honest with you. I had it all in my head for the past few weeks, but it never comes out on virtual paper quite the way I think it will.  But I know I cannot be the only person who feels this way and has this problem.  And I know it's not all me.  I'm not the most user-friendly person, but there are enough people who like me the way that I am - or have over the years - that I know I'm not a horrible person.  I'm just... lost?  Confused?  Searching?  All of the above?  I'm alone a lot, but I would seldom, if ever, say I was lonely.  But I do want more. We'll see if I decide to apply myself to get it. 

Ahhhh college. It was certainly never boring!  I was dressed as a groupie although I'm pretty sure I never took the jacket off to reveal the belly shirt. I can't even believe I had a belly I was ever willing to reveal!

When it doubt, the answer is Paul McCartney

A couple of weeks ago I was at a trivia night in a local restaurant and the category was song lyrics by ex-Beatles.  Uh... I'm not great with Beatles lyrics, so this was not going to end well.  But it could have. It just... didn't.

You see, I kept hoping against hope that the answer was going to be Ringo Starr. So over and over again I would answer Ringo and each time, it would be Paul McCartney. You'd think I would have learned after the first time that happened, but I think I answered Ringo 3 times because I figured the harder the questions got, the more likely it was Ringo. But it was never, ever Ringo.  Never. Ever.  Once it was George Harrison. Once it was John Lennon. Otherwise, Paul.

Ultimately I found the whole thing kind of amusing which is odd for me because it knocked me out of competition and my team lost and I do not like to lose at trivia. It's my thing (gimme a break, it's all I've got).  Truth be told, I'm a know-it-all and I have no doubt that I'm obnoxious about it as well. I can't seem to help myself.  Or maybe I just don't try. Regardless, I think I accepted this defeat at least reasonably graciously which is a big thing for me since I'm a bad winner and a bad loser.

Since that night I've thought about this a lot. Not losing (because the next team I was on won that night), but about how even when I should have realized and answered Paul McCartney, I was determined to keep going with Ringo Starr.  That's such a habit that I think is typical in me and probably everyone at times.  We keep forging forward even when we know that what we are doing is probably wrong.  That there is another, more obvious answer to whatever it is.  But like a dog with a bone, we stick with Ringo Starr.

Ah well.  Lesson learned.  Hopefully.  And poor Ringo, he just doesn't get the love he deserves!

I Am a Dave Ramsey Failure

I'll be honest, I've taken Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University class twice at my church and I am a big, fat failure at the whole thing.  *sigh* I've tried. I really have.  And I absolutely believe in what Dave teaches, but... I am a failure.  I don't pay with cash - I'd be in a mell of a hess without my credit card.  Well, I'm in a hell of a mess with it, but without it I could never put gas in my car.  I spend about $300 a month in gas just to go to and from work. I don't have that kind of cash lying around to put into my gas tank, but I can't not go to work.  I have debt that I want to pay off, but can't. I honestly, truly can not do it.  Not because I won't, but because the money isn't there. 

 I guess I am not totally hopeless because after the first class ended, when my tax return came that spring, I paid off my grad school loans in full and was able to scratch that one off the list.  That was a wonderful feeling and it freed up $155 a month that I try to take out of the bank each month in cash and use to buy my groceries for the month.  Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn't.  I am all about the debt snowball idea, but it sort of takes having any spare money lying around to be able to start doing that.  I would put 'extra' money toward my debt (and let's not even get into the money I owe my father who paid off the remainder of my heating and air unit when I was laid off my job a couple of years ago - I don't know that I will ever be able to pay him back), but all my money goes to paying for gas or food or, y'know, electricity and all that stuff.  I've cut my cable down to the minimum and quite frankly, it drives me nuts. I don't go out and do things, so my entertainment is television and by cutting most of that out, it can get awfully boring when I'm hanging around the house.  (Yes, yes, I read. A lot. But I also like my shows.  Deal with it.  And I usually read AND watch TV at the same time.)  Sweating or freezing because I have the AC or the heat turned to an insane level so that my bills are hopefully lower.  You can just take off or put on more clothes, right?  *rolling eyes*  Yeah, I'm basically miserable in my own home most of the year because of trying to save money. 


My frustration lies in the fact that I feel like a failure because I can't make that program/system work.  It seems so simple.  Cut out unnecessary expenses.  Do more with less.  Learn to do without.  But then... I have to go to work. To pay for the gas to put in the car to go to work.  It never seems to stop.  And I will hurl something heavy at the head of anyone who says, "Get a 2nd job."  Um.... ok. Sure.  When do you recommend that I do this?  I get up at 4am to workout because there is no other time to do it.  My work day consists of about 11 hours because I include commuting time into my work day.  I get home, grab dinner, maybe get a little time to read a book or sometimes see friends and do something fun and then get to bed - all of that in about a 3 hour time period.  I sleep maybe 6 hours a night and generally am dragging myself to work the next day because I function best with 9 hours of sleep.  So yeah, I'm not sure when I'd have that magical second job, even if it was really possible to find a second job these days.

I don't mean to whine, but a news story this morning set my teeth on edge. It was about how you should try to pay off your credit card debt and geegollygosh you'll feel soooo much better. Y'THINK???  Wow. I'd never have figured that one out on my own. *snort*  I think sometimes people who put those stories together just do not realize that so many of us are living paycheck-to-paycheck and there literally is not extra money to put toward reducing debt. I'd do it if I could. I put my entire tax refund this year towards my credit card debt.  It was merely a drop in the bucket and my debt is small compared to some people's.

So I guess I'll just have to keep on going as a big, fat failure in the Dave Ramsey world.  I have dreams that some day I will be able to get my head above water. (I'm not asking to be rich - nice as that would be - I just want to get out of debt and feel like I have enough money to cover my bills without worrying whether I can afford the gas or the food.)  Without having to sit in a house without heating or air, without any television whatsoever, without... without... without...  It seems so, so simple, but it's really, really not.

Play It Again Sam(my Hagar)

Once upon a time I wrote a little blog for my church group (back when I used to do a weekly email for the group) about how I heard God talking to me through a Cher song.  And I've heard God speak to me through an episode of WKRP in Cincinnati as well.  And I've frequently heard God speaking to me through a Van Halen song.  I searched and searched and cannot find the blog I thought I'd written about this years ago, because some time around the Cher experience is when I think this all came about.

Now, there are those that scoff at hearing God speak to you in any other way than through reading the Bible.  Well, I disagree. I think if you look and listen, you will find God all around you, every day.  You never know when or how or why He is going to send you a message. You just have to be open to it.

On this particular day I was out in my yard pruning the lantanna. Which is not my favorite thing and generally only happens in January or February once the leaves have fallen.  I'm not sure exactly how my head got into this particular place, but I was talking with God and wondering how he could stand the human race most of the time. I mean, good grief!  We are a messed up bunch of people that's for ding dang sure.  Fortunately, God offers us grace and forgiveness and salvation.  Can't get much luckier - or rather, blessed -than that.

So as I'm pruning and pondering and asking God how he can love someone like me, who is certainly undeserving, the Van Halen song "I Can't Stop Loving You" came on and I heard these words:

There's a time and place for everything, for everyone
We can push with all our might, but nothin's gonna come
Oh no, nothin's gonna change
And if I asked you not to try
Oh could you let it be

and 

I can't stop lovin' you
And no matter what I say or do
You know my heart is true, oh
I can't stop loving you

I can't clearly recall, but I think I started laughing a little bit at the fact that at the very moment when I needed something like this, this song came on.  And I truly believe it was God speaking to me. Reassuring me.  Reminding me that no matter what I do, He can't and won't stop loving me.  It was pretty cool.

So now every time that song pops up on my iPod, I stop and smile and listen, remembering that God loves me. Even though I don't deserve it.  And that sometimes, if He asks me not to push and try so hard, can I just let it be.  I'm grateful for God's love and His grace, especially when I have no idea what is going to happen or which way my life is headed (which is basically all the time the past few years, or so it seems).  And I'm grateful that God chooses seemingly strange places and things to use to speak to me. I believe God chooses the avenue that is best for the individual and how He knows He can get through to us.  And he definitely does get through to me in this song.  I dunno... maybe it has something to do with Sammy's hair.  :o)

Disappointment

Hmmm... I've had this post in my head for a few days and I'm not sure if it's better to write right when you have the inspiration or ruminate on it a while and see what comes out a few days later.  Heck, I'm not even sure I know what I want to say anymore.

I was driving to work the other day and thinking that I am coming to the end of the project I adopted to pray about 5 specific things for a year and watch how God works in your life and changes it.  Lately though all I feel when I pray about it all is disappointment. Oh, I never expected all these things in my life to completely change in this year... or maybe I did.  I fully understand that just praying about something doesn't mean it's going to happen.  That to make things happen we all have to pull our share of the weight and can't expect God to wave some magic wand and *presto!* everything is different. I also realize that just because we pray for something doesn't mean it's what is going to happen.  God doesn't give us what we want - He gives us what we need.  But that hasn't stopped my disappointment.  And yes, I've been pulling my share of the weight.  Or at least, I though I was.  I've been doing things or making changes that seem appropriate to following the course of action that I'm seeking.  But maybe it's just not enough.

The day that I was praying about this and thinking these thoughts, I pulled up one of the blogs that I follow at lunch time - Melanie in the Middle - and found this post which spoke to me about what I'd been thinking that morning.  You should just click and go read the post because it's worth it, but in a nutshell it's about positioning yourself to get what you want or where you want to be in life.  It was just what I needed to hear at the time I needed to hear it.

Jump forward to Thursday afternoon (at lunchtime once again) and I'm searching for something with any meaning to me whatsoever to post in my Facebook status.  Since I post status updates way too much, it's a tad bit disconcerting when I come up empty for anything to post.  I often fall back on quotes that I like and that will convey whatever my thoughts are at the time.  This is what I came up with from the movie You've Got Mail. It's from an e-mail that Meg Ryan's character is sending to Tom Hanks's character and again, it spoke to me at the right time:

"Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life - well, valuable, but small - and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void."

I have those selfsame thoughts all the time.  I wonder if I am sabotaging myself and my potential successes.  If I set myself up to fail or say I can't do something just because it's hard and takes some effort on my part.  Do I push things aside because I don't think I can accomplish the task.  Do I just not do things because I'm not being brave.

I don't really have answers to all of that right now (or maybe I do and I'm just avoiding dealing with them *hint - that's probably what it is*), but I do know that I have some decisions coming up that are going to require me to make some hard choices.  Or at least choices that seem hard.  Maybe they are really easier than I think and I am simply making things harder than they need to be.  I do that so well you know.  Over think. Over plan. Over do.  But there are changes brewing folks. That much I know for sure.  And when I break it all down, it's really not that God hasn't answered my prayers because He has. In bits and spurts, but nothing totally to fruition and that still frustrates me.  I have seen God at work in my life, but I am still disappointed that time is running out and things haven't come together more. And trust me, that list of 5 things ain't gonna all just happen in the next month.  I know God can do anything and I am definitely not throwing down a gauntlet, but that would be a whole heck of a lot for a month's time.  Regardless, I'm a little sad, a little dismayed, but I've taken it all to God and He knows. I mean, He'd know how I was feeling even if I did not tell Him, so why  not just lay it out.  And I get the hints that it's really not on God, but it's on me to make some decisions and choices and move things forward.  If I'm brave enough.  I guess that's the real deal breaker here.  And I'm not at all sure what the answer is.

Remembering Michael

I've had this post wandering around my brain for the past week and am still not sure just what is going to come out of my fingers as I type.

Last week I played host for an evening to the mother and sister of a friend of mine from high school.  Michael died nearly 2 years ago when he was hit by a car trying to help a cat in the road that had been injured. His mother isn't sure if Michael may have hit the cat and stopped or if he just saw it, but it was his nature to stop and try to help.  She said that no one who knew him was surprised by his actions.  He stopped the car, pulled over to the side of the road and turned on his flashers and got out, with a big flashlight.  But a car saw the flashers and changed lanes, but did not see Michael and hit him.  His mother told us last week that if he did not die on impact, then he was in shock enough that he did not feel pain or suffer.  It's so strange to think of that as a "blessing".

I received a note about a month ago from Michael's mother saying they would be in town last weekend and would like to get together with any friends of his still in the area, so I put the word out and a few friends were able to make it to my house that evening.  His mother was visiting places where they had previously lived - they now live in Colorado - and where she had happy memories of her son  as a means of trying to cope with his death. I can't imagine how you ever cope with the loss of a child, but I hope that this visit with his friends was able to help her in some small way.

All we did was sit in my living room and talk and reminisce about about our high school years with Michael, but it was so nice to hear stories about what he was like as an adult.  I had no idea he'd been married and divorced.  I knew he played lead guitar in a band, but never realized the following the had. His mother gave me a CD of songs he had written. I haven't listened to it yet. But I will.

Before he died, Michael had been seriously considering traveling back across the country with another friend to "crash" our high school reunion (he graduated a year before I and this other friend did).  But he never had that chance.  We raised our glasses at that reunion to our dear old friend and we raised glasses again last Saturday night.

I will never have children to remember me when I am gone one day, but I hope I am fortunate and blessed enough to have some friends out there in the world who will think as highly of me as everyone who knew Michael thinks of him. I am sad that I never got to know the man he was, but I will always smile when I remember the boy that I knew.

There is only one picture that I know of of the two of us together, but I think it's one of the best pictures there could possibly be. So as we approach the 2nd anniversary of his passing this coming September, I will say a little prayer for my friend that he is at peace and that his family will continue to find their peace as well.

Circa summer 1988 at a church youth group Bible study.

Up, up and away

I was out working in my yard today when something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I did a double take because I wasn't sure what it was that I saw floating in the sky. At first hasty glance I thought maybe it was large birds which instantly made me wonder what was dead over in one of the neighbor's yards.  Hey, as long as it wasn't the one of the neighbors, I figured it was all good.

Turns out, it wasn't buzzards or vultures or whatnot (though I have actually seen those a time or two a little too close to my neighborhood feasting on some road kill - hey, I had to look... just not close enough to see much), but balloons.  Three bundles of balloons that someone had released into the sky.

found on Google Images

From their low level to the ground I think they were released a street or so over from my house.  But... why?  

Fascinated, I ended up sitting down at the back of my driveway and watching as the three bunches floated up into the sky. Higher and higher. Until they disappeared.  I couldn't seem to help myself. I just sat and watched and wondered.

Wondered who had released them and why.  Did they escape from a birthday party?  Were some children sending out messages into the world with the hope that whoever got their missive would respond from some far off land like England or Australia or Pacoima (which is totally far from my hometown I assure you.  More or less.).  Just what was the purpose of those balloons floating skyward?

I'll never know the answer to that I'm sure, but watching them float away seemed somehow... magical.  Because maybe whoever released those balloons was doing more than simply letting go of a few ribbons and strings. Maybe they were symbolic of letting go of something in that person's life that needed to be released so that they could be released.  Maybe those balloons were really hopes and dreams being set upon the breeze to float skyward and catch flight and carry those hopes and dreams further than that person could do at that moment.  So many maybes and possibilities.

I sat and watched until each bundle of balloons had risen so high into the blue summer sky that they weren't even specs anymore.  And I thought about what hopes and dreams that I may need to cast to the winds and see where they land.  What, perhaps, I should release in order to be released.  And I know when I walk outside tomorrow morning I will gaze up at the dawning sky, for just an instant, and hope that those balloons have reached their destination.  Fulfilled their purpose.  And that I will too.

On Saturday I took a little walk...

On Saturday I needed to run a book-on-CD back to the library and decided to walk. It's only about 20 minutes away and I've done it before. However, I lollygagged and didn't leave the house until about 11am, when it was a tad bit toastier than it would have been if I'd left at say, 9:45am.  But with a bottle of water I headed of f anyway and decided to take pictures as I walked along of anything I saw that I found  interesting.  And here is what I found.

Some of the neighbors down the street had flags lining the sidewalk for Memorial Day.

Y'know, you see a toilet on the front porch of a house and think, "I'll bet there's a story there!"  And, in fact, there IS a story here.  And I know what it is.  But... I'm not gonna tell it.  Leave an email addy if you want the story.

Stage door for the arts center down the street. NOT the stage door for the theatre I work with, but mere steps away from the door I enter to the theatre.

We had rain the night before which usually stirs up all manner of things. Including trash.

I am always fascinated by the tracks or shoe prints left in the cement on the sidewalks around my neighborhood.

Local architect's office that I have always thought would make a cool house. From the outside anyway.

Church steeple at First Pres.  Not my church, though I am a Presbyterian. For whatever that matters.

Someone at the county administration building is feeding a cat it seems...

Courthouse windows.

Courthouse steps. I took a longer route home and took some time out to sit and just watch the world go by.  As much as it does down there on Main Street. 

Courthouse flags flying at half-mast and flapping in the breeze.

Part of what I picked up at the 'brary.  Always need some books on CD for the long commute to and from work.

The real question is, will I actually manage to read both books before they are due back 2 in weeks.  History would suggest that it's not likely.

Discovering Midnight Blue

I never cared for the color midnight blue as a child. I always thought it was one of the more useless colors in my Crayola box of 64 and never wanted to use it. It wasn’t blue. It wasn’t black. It wasn’t bright and vivid and bold, as I prefer my colors to be.

I have, however, always (as far as I can remember, anyway) enjoyed gazing up at the night sky. Which is really black, not blue. I get that. Work with me here. I have grand dreams of lying on a blanket in the grass and simply spending a few hours gazing at the moon and stars as they twinkle in the sky. Of course, I also have a great fear of spiders and rather serious aversion to all other creepy crawly things that might take up residence in my backyard, so that’s not likely to happen any time soon sadly.

When I was in Australia 4 years ago one of my favorite things was looking at the sky the week we stayed in Kojonup. Being out in the country it was easier to get away from artificial lights and appreciate more what nature provided. I could see the Southern Cross and Orion (though upside down) and the Milky Way. *dreamy sigh* It was love for sure.

And now I content myself to stop whenever I find myself under the night sky and spend a few moments gazing upwards to the heavens and enjoying the great spectacle that God has created. It’s not my Kojonup sky, but it’ll do in a pinch.

Sometimes that “pinch” happens when I’m driving to work in the mornings. It’s a well-established fact that I have to get up and go entirely too early in the morning. I whine about it incessantly and since I know my character, that is not likely to stop any time soon. I whine. I’m a whiner. I get that. Deal and move on, m’kay? Thanks.

But there are mornings when I’m driving and see the most amazing moon low in the sky. Orange or covered in clouds or just up there glowing. The moon fascinates me. And as much as I loathe being on the road commuting before daylight, it has given me an opportunity to discover midnight blue.

I first noticed a few months ago the change in the sky as sunrise was approaching. Oh, I “noticed” it all along because I would think, “Thank goodness the sun is finally coming up! Daylight! Sunshine! GIMME!!” But I never really noticed it. Never saw it. And then one day I realized that the sky was this amazing shade of blue as daylight approached. No, not the sky blue or baby blue of a coming sunrise that’s all mixed in with pinks and oranges and such. But a blue that I realized must be midnight blue. And it was lovely. I said a quick little prayer and thanked God for showing me midnight blue and every time I see it, I say the same prayer. Just as I give thanks for the beautiful moon that cheers me as I drive (and feel like a freakin’ vampire which, I am sorry to say, I have yet to find the will to say a prayer for thanks for that feeling of living in darkness all the darned time).

I have been praying daily now for about 8 months over a list of 5 things that I gave up to God in order to have Him transform my life. I must admit that while I see slight movements and changes in those areas, I have not experienced the massive change that I had hoped and prayed for. My faith in the changes happening is shaky at best and I’m honest with God about that when I pray. Nothing happens that is not in God’s time. I am well aware of that. I’m also well aware that things are happening in my life in those areas. They might be extremely tiny baby steps, but I can’t say that nothing has happened. It’s just that all the something I have wanted to happen has yet to materialize. And it puts me on a teeter totter of faith that seems to go up and down constantly. And oh how I hate commuting! I pray and pray and ask God for some resolution to my situation. All I really want is to live and work in the same city and I am no longer picky over which city that is. So long as they have indoor plumbing and electricity, I’m open to the possibilities beyond the 2 cities that currently claim my life. And yet the drive continues and the lack of sleep continues, hence the whining continues.

Perhaps in the end, it’s about more than my list of 5 things that I want God to take over in my life. Life is all about the journey after all. So there is really no “perhaps” to my previous statement I know. I’ve learned some things in the past 8 months about myself…and others. I’ve questioned myself and my faith, but never my God. And I have finally discovered midnight blue, which I have the sneaking suspicion at the end of this journey is going to hold a much deeper meaning than just the color of the sky.

Bryan Adams for the win!

I went to my third Bryan Adams show last week, after a 19 year hiatus which was much, much too long.  I always talk about Bon Jovi or Michael Buble in terms of music I like, but I have, in fact, been a Bryan Adams fan since before I ever knew Bon Jovi existed.  I’m just not, y ‘know, totally rabid and scary about it. :o)  I save the rabidity for the Jovi, but I can do overkill with anything I like.  Just as anyone who reads my Facebook status updates can attest.

The last time I saw BA live was April 9, 1992 in Charlotte, NC at a show I attended with my college roommate Kelli. So it was more than fitting that I break my Adams fast with Kelli as my “partner in crime”.  BA is on his “Bare Bones Tour” that he’s been doing shows for since 2008 I believe. It’s just him and his acoustic guitar and a pianist to accompany some of the songs and let me say, it’s amazing. I think I enjoyed it more than the other times I’ve seen him live (not that I have sharp memories of those shows I’m sorry to say after 20 years or so) because there wasn’t so much “racket”.  Concerts are, by their nature, pretty loud events and folks are screaming and singing along.  There was certainly that at this show, but there was quiet too.  Quiet so you could hear the singer and the songs.  And you could hear the patter between singer and audience.  He even took the request of “It’s Only Love” at one point and had the requester stand up and tell him her name.  I must say, BA does a passable imitation of Tina Turner as well. LOL

Of course, taking one request led to people constantly screaming out songs and finally he looked at some woman down front who called out something and said, “Look. Here’s how it’s going to work… I’ve kind of got this set list in my head that I’m going to follow…”  But he was good-natured about it and laughing.  As he did when an audience member yelling out for him to play “(I Wanna Be) Your Underwear”. 

Magazine cover from 1985 that I found in a scrapbook.

There were no photos allowed at the show which was a bummer since I love to take pics at concerts, but I can respect the rules. Unfortunately, so many people could not. No one was kicked out, but having security going after them constantly was a tad distracting.  However, it’s not like Bryan changes his look much – which is more than fine by me. I’ve always thought the man was a hottie and age hasn’t changed my opinion.  He looked like, well, Bryan Adams. LOL  Jeans, black shirt, black work boots.  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. 

He’s good with the audience patter and rather self-deprecating at times.  I know he’s a very private person who doesn’t give out tons of details about himself and I also got the impression that maybe he’s rather shy.  You don’t think about public figures are being shy or quiet, but I imagine it’s hard having millions of people think that they know you just because they’ve read about you or seen you on a chat show or listen to your songs. 

At one point when it was quiet in the audience before a song a woman yelled out, “Congratulations on the baby!” (He is expecting his first child in May with his assistant.)  He waited a beat and looked down at the floor and said quietly, “Thank you.”  I had wondered if anyone would be ballsy enough to say something about his impending fatherhood and he didn’t seem upset in that moment just… quiet.  Again, everybody all up in your business.

I promised my friend Naomi over at Chasing Inspiration a set list and here it is – or at least what I can remember! – but not in any particular order:

Run to You (show opener)

Here I am

Back to You (my personal favorite)

I’ll Always Be Right There

Somebody

Summer of ‘69

It’s Only Love

Not Romeo,  Not Juliet

The Only Thing that Looks Good on Me is You

Let’s Make a Night to Remember

Straight From the Heart

This Time

Heaven

Cuts Like a Knife

Alberta Bound (which he changed, of course, to Carolina Bound)

Can’t Stop This Thing We’ve Started

Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman?

Everything I Do (I Do it For You)

Please Forgive Me

I Still Miss You… A Little Bit

That’s not a comprehensive list because I just can’t remember all the songs.  There was one I did not recognize but can’t suss it out from looking at song titles on his web site.  I recognized all the songs except for that and “Alberta Bound” because I’d been brushing up on my Bryan for the past few weeks since I like to sing along… or at least lip synch to spare everyone from my voice. :o)  The songs that got the biggest reactions were predictably "Summer of 69" and "Everything I Do..."  which are not bad songs, but I have others I like better.  *shrugs*  Everybody's different!

Another scrapbook page with an advert for the Waking Up the Neighbors record, early 90s

That was another great aspect to me of the show – the folks in the audience knew those songs. I can’t stand being at a Jovi show and when they do new material (which is frequently defined to some as anything after Slippery When Wet) and folks sit down and almost ignore the band.  It’s so silly to me and annoying as well.  Why pay that much to go to a show if you don’t know the songs or worse, don’t care about them?  Concert tickets are far from cheap, so it seems like a waste to me. I only go to shows when I know I like the band and the songs.  But I know not everyone is that way. Fortunately, however, that is how the audience was for Bryan.  Such a refreshing change from a Jovi show.

Kelli and I with the tour bus int he background. Only pic we'll get!

I had been making jokes about looking for his tour bus all night and as we drove off, Kelli and I actually saw the bus and a few folks waiting by it.  So we decided to do what any intelligent women somewhat out of their teenage years would do – we stopped and joined the people waiting!  At first we were only going to wait for about 30 minutes, but then we kept extending it and ended up waiting an hour and a half until the man himself came out to get on this bus.  Bless him, pro that he is, they lined us up down the side of the bus and we got to go on and get something signed.  No photos allowed, unfortunately, and from talking to a couple of women also waiting who have met him several times before, that’s not unusual. Apparently he doesn’t like having his picture taken, so when the man with him said no photos and the lighting was bad, we weren’t surprised.  It would have been nice to have a picture with him, but I take lousy photos myself and if the man doesn’t want his taken, I can respect that. There are tons of pics of him with fans around the net, but again, not a big deal. It has also made me think in the past few days once again about how hard it must be to a celebrity.  People want your time, you photo, they want you really and if you gave and gave, what would be left for just…you.  So really, can’t blame the man for not wanting possibly unflattering photos out there in the world 

Considering the blithering idiot I would surely become if I ever met David Bryan, I have to say I wasn’t having a teenager girlie hissy fit over this.  Oh, I was excited, don’t misunderstand, but not flipping out which is totally how I would expect myself to react since it’s my standard MO. 

I could not find my ticket so Kelli had given me hers which I felt very bad about later because when she handed him a piece of paper to sign he said, “Where is your ticket?” and we had to explain that she’d given hers to me. And, of course, I found mine about 1 minute after we got into the car.  But with signatures in hand we headed on home.  I’m not sure I’d call the experience surreal, but it was… odd. I don’t make it a habit of managing to meet or see famous people, so this was pretty cool to me.  Having been a fan for nearly 30 years it was so odd to be standing about 2 feet away from the man and having a short conversation.  Which mostly consisted of him saying he hoped we had a good time and Kelli telling him how we’d seen him in 1992 together as college roommates.  The last thing he said as I exited the bus was, “I hope you enjoyed the show” and I replied with something like, “Yes, it was amazing. Thank you so much.” And looked right into his eyes.  That was in lieu of my photo I guess.  I just wanted some eye contact! 

Everyone got their autograph and went happily on their way.  He didn’t have to do that, but he was gracious even though I’m sure he was tired.  Not just from the show, but from doing that in general for years everywhere he goes.  He won’t remember me and that’s just fine. But I’ll remember that he was nice. Soft-spoken. Still pretty darned dreamy at age 51.  I’ll remember all of that and the next time I shell out money for a CD or a concert ticket, it’ll be a little easier to part with my hard-earned money knowing that he’s nice to his fans and a decent guy.

Now Read This: "You Couldn't Ignore Me if You Tried: The Brat Pack, John Hughes, and Their Impact on a Generation"

Like any self-respecting child of the 80s, I have a great and lasting affection for John Hughes and the movies that made him mega-famous for bringing the teenage experience to the big screen.  When I first heard about this book nearly a year ago, I knew I had to have it and immediately hopped on Amazon.com and ordered it.  And then I finally finished reading it tonight. Nearly a year later.


For someone soooo excited about this book, it took me forever to read it and I'm still not sure why. The book was very interesting and engaging, but I could only manage about a chapter a month.  Maybe it was because I really wanted to concentrate on each chapter. Or maybe it's because I'm a slacker and slow reader. LOL Either way, I'm glad I finally finished.

Me, circa...maybe 1987?

While some chapters do touch on John Hughes himself and his movies after the "Brat Pack" years, it's those teen films that I was most interested in reading about.  Each film has a chapter of its own.  My personal favorite is Some Kind of Wonderful, in no small part I am sure to the fact that when it was released during my sophomore year of high school, many people at my school thought that I looked like Mary Stuart Masteron's character "Watts". I still say it was mostly about the short, blond hair, but hey, it was a compliment, so I'll take it!

My doppleganger?

What I want to do now is go back and watch each of the movies and then re-read the chapter about it to see what new information and insight I can pick up.  A tidbit that I found interesting while reading the chapter on Say Anything involves actor Eric Stoltz.  He was/is apparently friends with writer/director Cameron Crowe and wanted to work on this film in some way and offered to be a production assistant. So even after having starred in films, he was happily running around fetching coffee and such for the folks on set.   The reason that stood out to me is that now Eric Stoltz seems to be directing more than acting.  He's done guest spots on Grey's Anatomy, but I see his name pop up as a director there more frequently, as well as on the other Shonda Rhimes shows Private Practice and Off the Map.  It just shows the connection and development of his career path. Or maybe I just like to read into the minutia of things!

I definitely recommend this book to any child of the 80s or any fan of the teen movie genre that hit its stride back in the 80s.  It was fun to read the thoughts of various actors who were in the films and to learn about the genesis of the "Brat Pack" nickname.  I remember it being used back in the day, but I never knew just how it came about (read the book and find out for yourself!!).  Now I just hope it doesn't take me another year to watch the movies and do a re-read.

Tattoo you... or rather, me

I have been thinking for the past week or so that I neglected to share my news here on my blog! I got... a new tattoo!  Yes, yes, I can tell you are all soooo super excited, right? LOL Well, this post is mostly for those not on Facebook (well, it's really for some friends who read another blog I have and when I link this post over to them, then they can see the new tattoo... confused yet? Yeah, me too...) because the good Lord knows I was micro-blogging about the whole thing on FB when I got it done a week ago Saturday. Complete with pictures of the tatt in progress!  And a friend asking me if my arm/shoulder was my boob. Sheesh.  Although, for informational purposes, I did learn that they call those "tit tatts". I swear I laughed myself silly over that one.  I'm so easy. But I'm not cheap, no matter what rumors you've heard!

This was tattoo #4 and I already have an idea of what #5  will be. I never would have thought of myself as a multi-tattoo person, but it appears that I am.  And I never would have thought I'd get a tattoo on my arm, but it appears that I did.  That's just how I roll.  And how my mother, God rest her soul, rolls repeatedly in her grave every time they ink me up.

Fortunately, I had a partner in crime in my friend Susan, who was also getting her fourth tattoo. I think it was her fourth.  Might have been fifth cause she's a wild woman like that. We set off on Saturday afternoon too check out a local tattoo shop that had been recommended to me by the owner's mother.  We liked what we saw, they gave Susan a good price on the tattoo design she came in with - yours truly just picked somewhat at random cause I'm crazy like that  - and we were off and running.  And afraid we'd be screaming because as I recall, my 3rd tattoo hurt like Hades.  I was expecting a lot of pain this time around and was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't that painful. Plus, being on my arm, I could watch the process which was cool too.

So here you have a little tattoo pictorial, save for the one on my ankle of a pig because it seems that I do not have a photo of that tattoo.  We'll save that excitement for another day.

Tattoo #1, chosen at random in a tattoo parlor in NC.  I went in with a vague idea of what I wanted and found this dragonfly instead.  This is on my right shoulder.

Tattoo #3, on my lower, left hip. This was taken about a day after I got it and it's faded a bit since then. Hurt like Hades too when they were doing it, so I'm not sure I am brave enough to ever get it touched up!  I might cry like a girl. Which is ok I guess since I am a girl.

And my new baby. Which is, oddly, basically what I thought I would get back when I got my first one. Not this exactly, but I had thought about a crescent moon and a star. And no, it's not the Turkish flag, as I have been asked. But it is similar.  Not my intent though.

Well there you have it. A little tattoo tour if you will.  As I said earlier, I have an idea of what I want for #5, but I'm not sure of location. I don't think I want to have tattoos on both of my arms and the ankle hurt like the dickens, so anything on bone is out.  Plus I don't think I want to have both shoulders tattooed, but we'll play it by ear. I think it'll be a while before I get another one.  If I don't wait a while I'll end up covered in the things because they really are addictive. 

"I don't have issues...I have a full subscription." ~ Jack the Plumber

A wise plumber I once knew (ok, I don't know him, but I was hovering while he was working on my leaking shower faucet) said, "I don't have issues...I have a full subscription." Oh, so true, so true of us all.

The pastor at my church said something recently in our weekly newsletter that really spoke to me. So much so that I wrote it down and carried it around with me for a while so I could refer to it and now it’s posted over my computer at work and I read it several times a day.

“The human heart is able to twist and turn logic and agreements, to find loopholes and justifications. We can listen, agree, and then convince ourselves we are exceptions to the rules. That’s why Jesus told us our hearts are corrupt and more deceitful than anything else.” ~ Clay Smith

I think it spoke to me because I’ve been fighting with some issues, some temptations, for a while now.

Temptation

1. the act of tempting; enticement or allurement

2. something that tempts, entices, or allures

3. the fact or state of being tempted, esp. to evil.

It’s come down to two major things that plague me pretty much daily and sometimes it can be amazingly frustrating. Especially when those temptations drive me to distraction. Or rather, to seek out distractions, which then snowballs into me not paying attention to what I’m doing whether I am at the office or working on a project around the house or whatever.

I was pondering those two particular pains in my ass today and started wondering which one of them makes me feel worse for doing it? I’ve been thinking about that off and on for hours now and still haven’t come up with a clear cut answer. It may depend on the day or the hour. Or the consequences. Ok. That’s a lie. Of the two specific things of which I speak (indirectly I suppose since I’m not willing to identify them publicly), there is one that makes me feel worse than the other for giving in to it.

Then I began wondering, which temptation makes me feel better for conquering it? Oddly enough, it’s a total flip flop between the two major warring factions. The thing I feel least amount of guilt about doing is the thing that I feel the greatest satisfaction from managing not to do. Yeah, I know. I don’t understand that last sentence either and I wrote it. And read it over five times.

Suffice it to say that I gave in to one temptation today and once the deed was done, I realized I felt no joy in it. No passion. No thrill. Merely dull resignation. Or perhaps it’s finally an enlightening moment realizing that often the things we think we want or need are, in fact, the last thing that will bring us pleasure.

I was listening to a book on CD this morning as I drove to work and a quote stuck out (I am paraphrasing) – Be the master of your pleasures as well as your restraint.  That really spoke to me.  While the quote was about food and making right choices, it resonates beyond that I think.  Be the master of your pleasures as well as your restraint. That’s big.

Guilty pleasure – (per Wikipedia) –

A guilty pleasure is something one enjoys and considers pleasurable despite feeling guilt for enjoying it.

Perhaps I should redefine some of my temptations as more guilty pleasures if I find enjoyment in them, in spite of the guilt. But can I master both my pleasure and my restraint? Ah, there’s the rub.