 Alternate titles include: The Resolutionator, My Body/My Self, Everything Old is New Again, You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello and This is Going to be the BEST Year Ever- the Farmer's Almanac said so. Well, jingle my Xmas bell and ring in the New Year! I've missed all 6 of my loyal readers! And am enjoying my new found popularity in the Russian market. Who knew they were fans of the middle of the road humour I am all about. Hmmm*insert shrug. There have been a multitude of changes over the past 2 weeks... For one you might've noticed the image to the right...Why yes, that is my new logo. Oh really? You think so? I'm a big fan too. I am also planning on a huge website overhaul to celebrate my first blog-iversary- Exciting times for those of us on the ground floor. Many more floors planned, but I am awaiting zoning by-law approval. Now, this Year's resolutions include soon to be classics and renewals of the ever popular standards. For example I am taking level 2 Ukeology with my Fav teacher Judy Marshak, a continuation of last year's initiative. There has been significant progress on my YA novels, so that's coming off the back burner and being put onto the mid-burner. I am back to being a pescetarian, which is a type of omnivore. A fancy way of saying meat makes me sad and sick, plus fish can't cry, they don't have tear ducts. Hubby and I have also started juicing. The amazing flavours of cabbage and kale finally in one condensed murky glass...that was sarcasm, though most of his concoctions have been a dis-licious veggie blast. The whole eating right and exercise thing seemed to be working, so that is to be continued with renewed fervour. Which brings me to what I have been worried about...I owe us a weigh in. Sigh. I'll be honest, all the goodies and boozes and baddies caught up with me this holiday season. For example, Hubby and I finished a box of Ferrero Rochers in a sitting, mind you it was a Sons of Anarchy marathon, so it was over a few hours, but still. Those delicious hazelnut nuggets went down like butter... which I also ate a lot of. Looking at myself in the gym wall mirror this week has given me pause. I am definitely up... but just how much is yet to been seen. So, I guess it's time for us to see what comes of bad decisions.
And now for the moment I've been avoiding: Week 12 measurements
Height still 5'8"
Weight 173.6 (-2.6 lbs)
Bust 40 (-/+)
Natural waist 33.5 (+.5")
Hips 44 (+1")
Arm flex r:13.5 (+.5") l:13.5 (-/+)
Arm rest r: 12.5 (-1") l:12.75 (-.75")
Thigh standing r: 25 (+.25) l:24.5 (-/+)
For a total gain of .5 inches but a loss of 2.6 lbs
That is one strange weigh in. I knew that I would be up, but to also be down... It's a wonder that people don't drive themselves crazy with their numbers. From what I understand the muscle I gained before the holidays helped me to fend off some of the weight, though not the bloating. Oh and as had been the pattern no inches gained or lost on my bust line. Surprise, surprise, surprise. I am definitely happy to be back on track, it's not necessarily a fast track, but now I know what direction I am going. So as soon as that Pot of Gold is gone I will be back to my strict no junk regime...I mean who can resist that chocolatey flavour rainbow?
There are children all over who grow up dreaming. Sometimes they are too shy to talk their peers. Perhaps their mouth works just a hint faster than their brain and they often find themselves chewing foot. Maybe they find their own thoughts more amusing and entertaining than reality and well, just a wonderful place to play. Those starry eyes drifting; lost in a teeny insect world, or on an intergalactic journey. For little bitty me, imagination was my best friend. We would read fairy tales and mystery novels together. Yellow jacketed puzzles that we'd solve just in time to start the next. We'd write dark and brooding poetry, as that was the only kind we knew about until haiku. But movies, they were our home.
There are so many lives I have lived through movies. I have been a warrior, a dancer, an outcast, a vigilante. I have fallen in love with the bad boy, and the good boy who pretends to be the bad boy but gets caught up being bad until his true love for me snaps him out of it. There have been to millions of Christmas', tonnes of Weddings and oh so many narrowly escaped terrors. Movies have always been a special part of the world for me. A chance to jump into someone else's imagination. Maybe even explore uncharted islands, star systems or the future. I've attended Proms where the whole grad class knows the same dance moves. Having wishes come to life. Making children out of wood. Flying elephants. Then just as quickly drafted back onto the front lines. Dark and dirty. With just a hint of hope. The smile of the inn keeper's son, and suddenly the rain doesn't seem so bad. Without warning the band starts warming up and you're dancing. Singing songs that reflect the hopes of the world around you. Being a part of the magic is an important part of me; and my imagination agrees with that.
The movies might not always be good. A lot of the time they will be rotten. You'll forget about them. Perhaps you'll fall asleep before the end. But knowing that eventually, no matter how bad the movies get there will always be somebody who wants to make them great again. There will always be a writer searching for the greatest idea they've ever had. Each character is a chance for the makeup artist to perfect their craft. Then there's the lighting guys, the boom operator, the focus puller. And as we all know there's the cast. There might be a lot of movies out there that will never surprise us. They may never get noticed. They may even let us down. But every once in a while there's a movie that finds our imagination, wakes it up and asks them if they want to come out and play. And this time of year has my imagination pulling all-nighters, but with another trip to the concession stand, I should be able to pack enough high fructose energy to keep my imagination and I going, at least until Boxing Day.
The hardest part of any art? The middle. All creators of all art forms know that the idea is exciting. Creating an original concept, all your own- what could be better? The planning and pitching can be a hard but rewarding way to share your art. It's the middle. That becomes the hardest, longest and most challenging part. When the art becomes work. And that's not what we signed on for as creative folks. Creative people can have a hard time fulfilling their own dreams. And the amount and quality of material an artist creates is dictated by their commitment to their goal and personal deadlines. Making art is a hard career. It's easy to loose interest in art that becomes work. Especially in the middle.
This theory applies to acting. Auditioning is a challenge. Creating a character from the sides provided. Convincing a table full of folks who know what they're looking for, that you are that thing. The waiting until the word comes you were cast. The first day of rehearsals and getting to know your castmates- awesome. Building your character, complimenting your cast and memorizing the words written for you to express yourself. Then the middle begins. Strangely the middle lasts until after opening, through the run and into the final week of shows, when the work suddenly doesn't feel so worky anymore. It becomes art again. And that art becomes fun again. It applies to music. Sitting with your instrument, your band, your creativity, writing what comes to mind. Fooling around until you're happy with what this tiny idea has transformed into; a fully formed music baby. Then comes the strumming and rehearsal of the song. Followed by playing that song until you've forgotten why it was so special when you wrote it. Painters know that a new canvas holds untold opportunities for expression. The minute a brush hits the surface, it becomes harder ever finish, the long lonely hours spent planning and painting. Don't even get me started on writers. There are scripts, novellas and poems sitting unfinished in drawers and on desktops. Millions of secret art, awaiting their fate in the unfun middle. Art is hard.
This is the unseen side of art. The hustle, the bustle, the grind. Beginning, begging and borrowing. Trying to stay motivated through the work. The constant possibility that you and you're art may not be as special as they thought. The fear that you will let the ever present "THEM" down. That the people who believe in you might have misplaced their faith. The fear that you might try your hardest to produce the most special art that you will ever create. Only to have no one notice. To be alone in your art. Art is meant to be shared. But what if you aren't an artist? What if after years of trying, lying, starving and striving, you're not good enough? Well, my friend, just that fear alone says you're an artist. So struggle, sweat and swear. Maybe cry a few times. As for my Art? I can hardly remember the start and I am no where near the end. But I am closer to where the dreaded middle ends, and it becomes fun again...I hope.
Singing, humming, toe tapping and moving to the beat. Not everyone hears the music of life. In everything we do there is rhythm. The sound of your heartbeat, the pace of your breathing. The rustle of the breeze through autumn's crispy leaves. The sound of footsteps on the subway stairs and the whistle of the wind through the tunnel. Music is all around us.
Everyday starts as a new symphony. There are days when you feel like an oboe- Forlorn and lethargic. There are days like a lute- high strung and hurried. There are days you're an accordion- moaning and squeezing at various paces. But the best days, the most fabulous days are the days that ring like a Ukulele. Now I may be prejudiced but there is no emotion a ukulele can't convey. By strumming, chugging and finger picking; I decide how my symphony sounds and feels. I am master of my musical domain. The sheet music of my life is becoming more harmonious as I play.
With music all around us it should be no surprise I can't stop dancing through life. The fact that I have begun writing my own music is however, a surprise. When I began playing music again, I couldn't have imagined the impact would have been so great. Great- meaning both vast and amazing. I had resigned myself to the fact my voice was my sole instrument and I wasn't prepared for the ease with which I slipped into holding a new one in my hands. Since learning uke I have been invited to teach others, which I am excited for despite my inexperience. The ukulele lends itself to your every whim. And having a tight circle of local ukeists is very tempting. Bit by bit my opus is being composed and I can't wait to share it with you. But for now we should listen to the sound of the music all around us. And sway to the rhythm of life:) Happy Thursday from this strummy Uke-lady!P.S. Toronto's very best Ukology teacher is one of my fav blondes Judy Marshak
Once upon a time there was a little boy. This little boy didn't like fun; he thought it was no fun. Everywhere he went he wore a big red baseball cap, pulled down low to hide his grumpy eyes. He didn't like other people having fun and he didn't like people trying to get him to have fun. His least favourite things were cheering, smiling and laughing. One day his having-no-fun Mom took him to the carnival where he sat stone faced on the bumper cars. Hearing all the fun the other kids and grown ups were having he got mad.
'I don't like it when you laugh so loud!' he shouted at them as they banged his car and giggled on to bang another. After spinning and swirling on the Zipper and Scrambler; he still didn't like fun. The only time it looked like he was smiling was when he was hung upside down but as soon as he realized he flipped it back around. His having-no-fun Mom took him to the shows- where she yawned- watching a highflying trapeze, a tightrope and lions. Death defying acts and not a shriek or an Ooooh, not even a hoot or a clap. The stone faced pair didn't crack a smile. Walking out into the midway he ate popcorn, cotton candy and corn dogs. He even finished a pound of maple fudge but he still wasn't having any fun. His red baseball cap pulled down so far, his eyes were covered when he heard a happy fun sound. Ugh, Music. Tipping his head back to get a look past his pulled down brim. Seeing his no-fun Mom was busy texting on her phone- complaining no doubt- about the perfect weather, the happy music and her no-fun Son, the boy walked towards the music eager to put an end to it. The music was coming from a parade with a marching band and a waving crowned queen riding a float with clowns strolling alongside tossing candy and beads into the crowd. He took his cap off for the first time all day and the sunshine hit the boy's frowning face. Upon her float a crowned Queen saw his un-fun face and taking pity on the boy waved to him. The clowns were dispatched, honing in on his unhappiness, picking him up, swinging him around and putting him up onto the waving Queen's float.
'My boy,' she cooed in her queenly way, 'why so sad?' Looking up to her smiling eyes and sparkling crown, then back down to the ball cap in his hands he sighed.
'I don't like fun. I don't like cheering or chuckling or secret handshakes or games. I just don't like it. Not one bit.' The Queen looked sad, forgetting she was part of a happy carnival parade, how could it be that this little boy didn't like fun?
'Little sad boy, if you had one wish what would it be?' she asked. The boy thought as the parade cut its way through the happy dancing crowd. Deep in thought, he forgot about hating fun so much. Sitting with the Queen as she waved, he couldn't help but start waving too. At first it was just for something to do as the pondered his wish- then he started feeling a feeling he'd never felt before. A single tickle under his chin. So, he waved harder watching the way the Queen waved. The crowd watching saw the un-fun boy start to change and the louder they cheered the bigger he waved. The tiny tickle under his chin scurried it's way up to the corner of his mouth. The sad clown noticed it first. The start of a smile. The first smile the boy who hated fun ever had. The crowned Queen asked the boy again,
'If you had one wish, what would you wish?'. The boy remembered suddenly about his no-fun Mom, his first smile fading. As he put his cap back on with a sigh, he turned unsmiling to the Queen and said,
'I wish my Mom could have more fun. I think most grown-ups forget how.' With that the no-fun Son climbed down from the float and ran back through the crowd towards his no-fun Mom, who was looking for him.
'You little scamp! I lost you. What have you got to say for yourself?'. With his brow furrowed underneath his hat brim, the little boy said:
'Mom, I want you to know that fun is not my thing. But you shouldn't miss out. Life can be hard on grown ups.' Taking off his baseball cap the little boy who didn't like fun, opened up a clenched fist and offered his palm to his mother, but it was empty.
'I brought you a smile fit for a Queen, and it's perfect for your face.' handing the unseen smile over; the un-fun Mom took it and used it right away. Holding out her hand to the little boy in the red baseball cap who didn't like fun.
'Well kiddo,' the now-almost-fun Mom said, 'how about we go home and leave the carnival to the people who like fun things.' And they walked home together making sure there was no more funny business. And the now-fun Mom was wearing her queenly smile the whole way.
It has been so long since I've had a vacation... a really real vacation. I have gone on trips to my parents, day trips down or up to the beach and hung out in Montreal. But I haven't had 2 weeks solid of days and nights off...With no strings attached and a few bonus days with Hubby gone up north. I really woke myself up! And I learned quite a bit.
1. Putting a ribbon on something doesn't make it a gift.
2. No plan-plans are the easiest and most satisfying plans to attend.
3. Anything is appropriate wardrobe if it's THAT hot out.
4. Buns are great if I wanna look like a ballerina without an eating disorder.
5. Lucy positions herself so that as I pet her the fan blows her loose hair back in my face. She's tricky like that.
6. I remembered how to scream. But once you've lost your voice it won't come back if you keep screaming.
7. Not every selfless act is free.
8. Taking a gamble with thirty percent chance of thunderstorms is like betting against the dealer.
9. Kids are cute until they make that face and explode from both ends.
10. Jogging when the humid ex is high is like trying to breath underwater.
11. James Bond is hot. And if Beckham were James Bond there would be way more kicking.
12. Obsession is something most people should keep to themselves. Or limit to 2 hours per visit.
13. Don't start a conversation with the Commissioner unless you're prepared to be thoroughly tongue lashed for your insolence.
14. Cuban food rocks.
15. BFFs exist for all the great-big-fun and fabulous reasons.
16. Peeing in the pool is acceptable if you're laughing that hard.
17. Karaoke is supposed to be songs everyone knows. Singing- scratch that- screaming along is part of the fun.
18. If your Hubby recognizes the smell of your fart, he'll sell you out; just to make friends.
19. White wine can make you fell like falling or like flying depending on the region of the grapes.
20. A drive-in is the perfect place for 2 girls to talk through a movie.
21. Puppa will always wait until you're close enough to benefit from a good shake.
22. Drunk men will try and proposition you because you have a dog. Having a dog means having a place nearby; so they don't have to drive back home to Kitchener.
23. Sometimes the most interesting looking people talk about some lame stuff. (ie: Egg salad or bandanas)
24. I want to ride the boat around the channel past the drive-in. I don't know what it's called or who owns it, or if they even take passengers, but I want to.
25. I forgot how much I loved high kicking.
26. Jilly doesn't stomp at me when she's hungry, she just stares and puppy sighs as though I should just get it, because I am her Momma.
27. Being a single Puppy-Momma isn't hard if you have a part-time nanny.
28. Slumber parties rock.
29. I can sweat while eating brunch, so that when I get up the pool drips down the back of my dress and puddles on to the seat.
30. Caribana is not as loud in a backyard swimming pool.
31. Meat is not my friend. Unless it's still alive, in which case I will pet it and we will become friends.
32. My Hubby isn't happy with only boys around, but the way he smells I don't think girls would be happy around him either.
33. The 4 storey hole in my backyard is a muddy and green pond...which is kinda Zen.
34. There is a family of 3 mini-city bred skunks lurking in my neighbourhood. There is a turf war brewing.
35. The barometer is a tool of torture.
36. Pickle sandwiches don't exist for a reason.
37. You can get 2 weeks out of a pedicure if you walk on sand.
38. The Olympics aren't fun until we get to the medal rounds; just like every other sporting event.
39. Lemon juice is not a hair product, it's an urban wives tale. Just like not being able to swim at Toronto beaches.
40. Roller coasters are a great source of tension. There should be more movies about them, though I imagine they'd be shorts.
41. My Baby Belle sounds better singing happy tunes, and happiest while playing the Disney library.
42. It's easier to encapsulate and optimize your time in the city- the close proximity allows for entertainment leap frogging.
43. Secret codes are hard to explain but helpful to have... Even if you're the only one who knows it.
44. Little Red Riding hood is a very clever little girl. But not every babysitter gets fridge privileges.
45. Music can come from anywhere, but that doesn't make it all good.
46. My arms tan, my chest tans, my stomach burns and my legs get patchy.
47. A facial can take 2 weeks to heal, and even then is still working hard.
48. My Puppa sleeps as close to me as possible, even if there is tonnes of room in bed.
49. Creating a cartoon series is harder than it looks.
50. Spending a rainy day watching an entire season on Netflix is worth the $7 a month.
51. Picking it just makes it worse.
By the time you relax, you're vacation is over. Which is sad- but I gotta say I was missing you. You know, missing this, US<3 and I am glad to have it back, though I do wish I was still floating around a pool or getting macro-dermabrasion at the beach, or bbqing with my Besties in the backyard... But maybe, just maybe, if I work hard and try hard and hope, I can still do it on the weekends... Oh right, weekends are for doing what you want... Silly me. And I will keep doing it, you can bet on that. Welcome back and happy Tuesday of the August long weekend. I am glad to see ya!
As you may know I have been working quite a bit. Taking advantage of time off and trying to fill my weekends with fun and friends. But I got a much 2 week vacation. Hurray! It's not a second too soon either. I am so excited to have 2 weeks of time for me! Here's what I am planning on doing.
1. Sleep. Period. End of sentence. Having to be at work for 7am everyday has me getting up at 4:30am and going to bed at 10pm-or at least trying to depending on how good TV was that night.
2. Eat salad! Having on set food 5 days a week has wreaked havoc on my body. Not to get too detailed, but I could use a good clearing out.
3. Go to the movie theatre and watch a double feature- perhaps even sneaking into the second movie*insert shocked gasp I haven't been to a movie in months. And the summer blockbusters must be reviewed!
4. Did I mention sleep? Cuz I'm gonna.
5. Take the Stinker to the park, give her a good brushing to make her coat shine like silk in the sunlight. And let her sniff until she's decided the world is too big to explore in one day.
6. Have Cuban food. Julie's has the best guacamole in the city, it's right up the block from me and I haven't been in more than a year. Plus maybe a few Mojitos... Yes. I think yes.
7. Visit my Momma and Papa. Last time I was there, I didn't take a breath while speaking to them. It might be nice to actually hear how they are doing. Though they are busy folks so I will take Hubby and the Stinker, and plan hikes and riverside picnics.
8. Go to the beach. And swim hopefully in an erroneously small bathing suit to even out my tan lines.
9. Finish my 2 books I've got on the go. One for pleasure and the other because I will not be beaten by a book, you hear me book? I will not be beaten!
10. Play my Baby Belle. That poor little lady has been missing me and I her. Her strings growing limp. I am pretty sure she's put an ad on craiglist looking for a casual hookup/jam session.
11. Write this series of children's books I have been dancing around for months. You can swear and do pornographic things in kid's books now right? Is that where they're learning it? I think yes.
12. Pedicure + many other assorted spa necessities. I have to be slathered and lathed. Removing multiple layers of sun damaged skin from everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Especially my heels, they look like a crocodile skin socks.
13. Patio brunches! I need at least 2 patio brunches. Brunch is my favourite meal of the day, combining the wholesome foods of breakfast and the boozey sleep in behaviour of lunch:) mmm breakfast caesars.
14. Just an all around relaxation celebration. I want to sit on my tiny balcony and watch the world go by and laugh at the poor Joe's who don't have time off. Laugh and laugh and laugh.
15. I am going to take an allergy pill and pet my Kitty until she's rumbling so loud the couch vibrates. Until the Puppa gets jealous and chases her into the bedroom.
16. I am going to see friends. Tall friends, short friends, even friends with kids! I want to see them all.
So, since I won't have time off again until September, I have to take advantage of the summer now. (Although with global warming the way it is we may never see winter again) I do love the feeling of accomplishment a stay-cation provides. But I am really looking forward to exploring the world a little bit more, and planning a large scale trip. For now though, it's amazing the type of adventure you can have in your own backyard.
While riding up north in the backseat of yet another rammed car, I was beaned by a flying chess set in a metal box. While recovering from the shock; I started this list. And it must've been some bonk to the noggin. Cuz here's all the mental floss. So what I thought about this long weekend.
1. It's called a long weekend because that's how it feels- long.
2. That cottages are far from the city andr by the time you get there you've missed half a day.
3. Jilly is allergic to Puppy cupcakes. They transform her into a poltergeist shooting from both ends.
4. Air mattresses have a central vortex that acts like a black hole.
5. I forget how to write a blog.
6. Almost everyone on my side of the family writes.
7. A year is a long time to feel sorry about not saying you're sorry.
8. Going 8 games undefeated inflates an ego, priming it for popping. Even while playing lawn games.
9. Drunk people don't make much sense, if you're sober.
10. Bro finds immeasurable pleasure in saying the Eff-word in front of my religious relatives.
11. Turning 80 means never having to say thank you.
12. Jilly and her cousin Reese get along and share toys quite well. Except the teeny tennis balls that Jilly cracks like a walnut- splitting yellow fuzz and plastic everywhere.
13. Gin and club soda with lime is a great and classically thirst quenching beverage. Especially in a giant Coleman thermos.
14. When someone owes you $100 they make sure you give them the $5 they just lent you.
15. People pay attention to couples using their silent language.
16. Banana boat sunscreen smells like summertime.
17. I clean to show people I love them.
18. Jilly likes ice cubes and cauliflower.
19. You can lead a man to the shower but you can't be sure he'll come out clean.
20. Bluegrass is the best driving music, but Graceland is a very close second.
21. People like repeating stories. Especially if they got a laugh the first time.
22. Pontoon boats were invented for long weekends and dancing to Bryan Adams.
23. A weekend without a watch on is required every so often.
24. Bathing suits aren't designed to last for 6 years.
25. Packing light means leaving stuff behind. Even though you might need them later.
26. Even when BFF isn't there I feel the influence she's had on my life enjoyment level.
27. I need to Shining myself in a northern cottage for 2 months and write.
28. Swimming in a lake and making a joke about snapping turtles causes them to suddenly appear. Sending a gaggle of girls screaming and an Uncle yelling at us to be quiet.
29. Stargazing apps are wicked sticks.
30. A hot July is way better than a wet one. Mosquitos like to bite my bum.
31. I really like my new sister in law.
32. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day if your coffee has Bailey's.
33. A pavilion is a fancy way of saying concrete floor with roof.
34. Coolers should be see-through for efficiency sake.
35. If there's anything lovelier than queen Anne's lace I haven't found it.
36. Diving into a lake is nature's netti pot.
37. Traffic is terrible when you're between radio stations.
38. Bacon and eggers from A&W are worth every penny.
39. When a stat falls on a Sunday everything is closed and they take Monday too.
40. People want to show off their garden, even if their thumb is more brown than green.
41. Sunscreen makes clean hair look greasy.
42. Soy beans are a very popular crop for Ontario farmers this year.
43. If you're in a town with an asylum, expect to see crazy people.
44. Girls ask questions about boobs and laugh at farts.
45. One big zit provides fodder for a whole weekend worth of jokes.
46. KFC is the perfect picnic saver. Mayonnaise is essential for every summer salad.
47. 80 year olds love playing the piano without their hearing aids.
48. Orange hibiscus are beautiful in the overheated Camp grounds.
49. Most conversations with an 80 year start with; did you hear about -blank- they died.
50. A country Mommy will not tolerate 60 in an 80
51. Sometimes your journey takes you back to where you've started, and gives you a chance to start again.
52. You can make ice cubes out of anything- including oil, broth and milk
53. A dog tumor feels weird to accidentally run your hand over it.
54. Actors don't get vacation pay.
55. The winter wheat is ready for harvest.
56. You'll always get complimented on your old 'I only wear them at the cottage shoes'. My calluses get worse the more I wear these shoes.
57. Wearing dress with a strange neckline generates a strange tan line.
58. Puppa will strangle herself to escape the danger of fireworks.59. Being jammed into a full car is more fun than being alone in an empty one.
60. There is no place as comfy as your own bed. Except a five star hotel.
As always it is nice to be back, and starting up my routine of going to be at 10pm again. It's always amazing how I need a vacation after my vacation. I think I might be trying to pack in too much fun, but who complains about having too much fun? Oh wait. that's me:)
When was the last time you danced. I mean really shook what your Mama gave ya? Danced until you were out of breath from laughing so hard... Closed your eyes and shrieked along with a song that makes you loose your mind and has for years? A song that you've loved since grade school- I bet my wicked sticks that you still know all the words. Dancing is something every kid does, even though it's more like shaking your sillies out than actual dancing, not that I can boast better moves.
I am not a good dancer, I am really Really not a good dancer. My very white and untoned arms flailing through the air. My legs either kicking Ringwald style or pogo bouncing- depending on my shirt as I have had too many dance-wardrobe malfunctions. The combination of clumsy and banging beats is dangerous. In highschool I used to dance with my shadow on the wall, cuz it was the only thing forced to dance with me. If you've seen me dance, you know, it's a combination of mock sexy oooh faces and deep knee bends. It's really not great. Thank goodness my regular dance partners are one tough cookie and a bitch. DJ Jilly Bean is a good sport, she tries to keep up for the first 2 songs but she's not in it for the long haul she prefers to growl/sigh at me from the couch once she's realized I am not dancing because there are "sooo manny ccoookkies in my pocket" and she's gonna get them all. My tough cookie is a whoo girl. Is there anything better than a Whoo girl, hooting and hollering and carrying on like a crazed woman; possessed by the music. Okay, that's a little much, but you get it. She's fun.
As for the loss of public dancing. Why don't we have group dances anymore? Moves that everybody knew- the bump, the shuffle, the dip, electric slide and begrudgingly I will even accept the chicken dance. The steps uniting a group of wedding goers or prom attendees. Making outcasts part of the group. A step chart for social interaction helps the socially awkward. Dancing is never going to be something I am good at- no matter how many tap, ballet or jazz classes I take. Even modern dance; a dance designed for the body you've got no matter who you are, I still look strange. A bad dancer dancing strangely is still bad. But what about twirling? I am a great spinner, like a Roddamn top! a twirl-master general. So, maybe I focus on the round and round instead of the doo-wop & get down; it's a small sacrifice. Plus the Macarena isn't dead and even my GMa can do that- Hhhaaa!
My new uke arrived in the mail on Monday. Well, arrived isn't the right word. I mean I picked it up from the 7/11 mail depot in the world's biggest box and carried it all the way down from Dundas on Monday, Monday. Just another manic Monday. Unpacking this giant box, removing layers of paper and 2 subsequently smaller boxes- I finally unveiled her. And I played that pretty lady all day. Played it 'til my fingers bled, if this were the summer of '65. I strummed and loved that Big Lady. Problem is I am undecided on what to name my new uke. Her older-way older and stubborn sister's name is Betty, pretty little antique Betty. Stubborn pegs not gripping the strings; going out of tune every song; Betty. The two names I have been tossing around are the Big Lady or Baby Belle. So for now, until I decide I will use both:)
Hubby and I have been playing Faque Band (Fake Band) since Rockband came out on X-box 360. Though since I started learning a real instrument we're jamming like a real Faque Band. Hubby plays the guitar and sings, but he always Garfunkles me. I want to be Garfunkle. Can both of us be Garfunkle? He should be Paul, I mean that's obvious. C'mon Garfunkle and Garfunkle sounds like a law firm that only deals with clerical errors. That's something we'll have to work out.
When beautiful Baby Belle arrived I started dreaming about the awesome sauce family band Hubby and I could build- but it seems like it should be an audition process more so than a birthing process. We would be looking for children who could conceivably be our children, but we're far too young to actually have naturally. A la Brady bunch Partridge bus. We need a bassist and pianist and violin/fiddle. Children must be self-sufficient and capable of taking care of themselves, preparing meals and cleaning the tour bus etc. Birth-parents must relinquish all rights to family photos and "memories" as they have now become part of the Unnamed Family Band paraphernalia for fan clubs members and 8 special collectors editions commemorative glasses available from your local gas station. Please submit your child in the comment section below; attach a photo, resume and reel if possible:)
With this unnamed family band dynasty goes the woes of what should our first album be called? Should we self-title, perhaps we should use an inside family band joke? What is the thought process that goes into picking your album cover art? Can you imagine the pitch session? Would it be my job as the performer to come up with the idea? Or is it an uncreative studio exec with branding expertise...?Should it be a cartoon? Real life shot? Sexy photo? Serious musicians with instruments in hand? Hiding half covered face or faces shrouded in shadow? Colour or black and white? Just a landscape? A shot taken by a band member with photography enthusiasm. What image best suits this sound. The pairing of an image with a sound. These are all very difficult decisions. Wow, it's hard to play Unnamed Family Faque Band and hold down a non-paying job as a bloggist. I tell you, I might have a slight addiction to being a Jack of all Trades. But can I help it if I am sorta good at everything...?
|
RSS Feed