For lunch today, I made a salad. Lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, cheese, ranch dressing.
As I was eating, it hit me that I don't even really like salads all that much. This was my intial thought. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know they are supposed to be good for you and all, but I'm just not a fan.
Wait, no, my second thought was that it's not that I don't like salads, it's that I am not a fan of lettuce. I don't really like mass quantities of lettuce.
If you ordered a salad in a restaurant and asked them to hold the lettuce, would they look at you like you lost your mind?
I mean, pasta salad doesn't have lettuce so what is the real definition of a salad? Is lettuce a main ingredient or not?
I have given this some thought -- the majority of the salads I like don't have lettuce -- pasta salads of all kinds, the "salad" that is just fresh mozzarella and tomatoes, ham salad (similar to chicken/tuna but more fattening which makes it taste better).
What do you think of when you hear the word "salad"? What is your mental picture? Take a minute, please, and ponder this.
Dictionary.com offers some definitions. The first one says that a salad contains "raw leafy green vegetables" which in my mind implies lettuce. The second one is again about vegetables and gives you the image of perhaps potato salad because of its mention of mayo. The third one is "A green vegetable or herb used in salad, especially lettuce" -- hmm, lettuce especially -- this is interesting. And the fourth one is just about a variety mixed up.
The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of salads is "lettuce and other stuff."
I think I need to shift my paradigm so that salads are not "lettuce and other stuff" but rather "good stuff and maybe some lettuce" so then I can really appreciate and like salads.
So seriously, does anyone have thoughts on this or is this just my mid day rambling?
My salad had too much lettuce, and thus, I didn't really enjoy it all that much.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Little slices of heaven...
"I'm serious. I really think God puts things on earth - little slices of heaven - for those of us who will never make it there." - Cousin Jen, 5/25/06
Jen said this while she, Bridget and myself were sitting at the Memphis Redbirds game on Thursday. Her first example of a "little slice of heaven" was BBQ Nachos, which she experienced for the first time at the game... well worth the $7.25, spots of sauce on your pants, and food orgasm experienced while digesting such goodness.
Throughout the week-long visit, Jen has compiled a list of various forms of "little slices of heaven." I will share those now, in no particular order:
-Beer (needs no explanation)
-Dippy eggs (a Varano recover-from-drinking or eat-while-sick speciality)
-Hurricanes at Pat O's (also needs no explanation)
-Male foreigners with accents (hott)
-Laguna Beach marathon (yes, I watched it... two days in a row)
-Dunkin Donuts (the disgusting yet delicious bagel sandwich - never overrated)
-Saved by the Bell reruns and Hawaii movie (always a good time)
-PF Chang's (it's real chicken)
For all of you who question your life in eternity and fear you may not make it to heaven, may you enjoy all of the "little slices of heaven" life brings your way.
Jen said this while she, Bridget and myself were sitting at the Memphis Redbirds game on Thursday. Her first example of a "little slice of heaven" was BBQ Nachos, which she experienced for the first time at the game... well worth the $7.25, spots of sauce on your pants, and food orgasm experienced while digesting such goodness.
Throughout the week-long visit, Jen has compiled a list of various forms of "little slices of heaven." I will share those now, in no particular order:
-Beer (needs no explanation)
-Dippy eggs (a Varano recover-from-drinking or eat-while-sick speciality)
-Hurricanes at Pat O's (also needs no explanation)
-Male foreigners with accents (hott)
-Laguna Beach marathon (yes, I watched it... two days in a row)
-Dunkin Donuts (the disgusting yet delicious bagel sandwich - never overrated)
-Saved by the Bell reruns and Hawaii movie (always a good time)
-PF Chang's (it's real chicken)
For all of you who question your life in eternity and fear you may not make it to heaven, may you enjoy all of the "little slices of heaven" life brings your way.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
R.I.P. Zack Morris
"You don't understand. I have a relationship with my phone; we have a chemistry together, I can't explain it." - Anna Riley, Keeping the Faith
Like this movie character, I have had a relationship with my cell phone for the past four years. Many of you have seen and met my cell phone. I personalized it by referring to it as "Zack Morris" for quite some time. Zack Morris has been an appropriate name because it is a giant, bulky cell phone, similar to the phone the character of Zack Morris often used on Saved by the Bell episodes. If you have seen the show, you can get the correct mental image.
Like any good friend, Zack Morris has been a trustworthy companion. He has stuck by me through the good times, the bad times, the tough times, and the fun times. He has survived a few throws off the wall, drops down the stairs, and misplacings in strange environments.
This relationship has been mutually beneficial. Like any good friend, I have supported Zack Morris through his tough times as well. It has been often in recent years that those with more magical and modern phones have poked fun at him for his old fashioned ways. But regardless, I have always stuck up for him and have kept him by my side in times of need.
Time has come, however, to part ways. While Zack Morris has proven himself a worthy companion over the years, it is time for him to retire peacefully from a daily existence in my life. I have purchased a new phone which I will appropriately refer to as "Detective John Clark, Jr." for good reasons.
So it is in this moment that I take the time to thank Zack Morris for his trustworthy years of friendship and support. I am sad to see you go, dear friend, but excited about what the future holds in my new relationship with Det. John Clark, Jr.
Rest in peace, Zack Morris, rest in peace.
Like this movie character, I have had a relationship with my cell phone for the past four years. Many of you have seen and met my cell phone. I personalized it by referring to it as "Zack Morris" for quite some time. Zack Morris has been an appropriate name because it is a giant, bulky cell phone, similar to the phone the character of Zack Morris often used on Saved by the Bell episodes. If you have seen the show, you can get the correct mental image.
Like any good friend, Zack Morris has been a trustworthy companion. He has stuck by me through the good times, the bad times, the tough times, and the fun times. He has survived a few throws off the wall, drops down the stairs, and misplacings in strange environments.
This relationship has been mutually beneficial. Like any good friend, I have supported Zack Morris through his tough times as well. It has been often in recent years that those with more magical and modern phones have poked fun at him for his old fashioned ways. But regardless, I have always stuck up for him and have kept him by my side in times of need.
Time has come, however, to part ways. While Zack Morris has proven himself a worthy companion over the years, it is time for him to retire peacefully from a daily existence in my life. I have purchased a new phone which I will appropriately refer to as "Detective John Clark, Jr." for good reasons.
So it is in this moment that I take the time to thank Zack Morris for his trustworthy years of friendship and support. I am sad to see you go, dear friend, but excited about what the future holds in my new relationship with Det. John Clark, Jr.
Rest in peace, Zack Morris, rest in peace.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
I slept in a crime scene.
Wow, friends. I am sorry to have disappointed so many of you with the sappiness of my last post. Sheesh. I mean, seriously, is it wrong to take a break from sarcasm and wit for a day and think about things that really matter? I guess so.
Anyway, if ridiculous is what you want, then ridiculous is what you'll get.
If you're someone who has my IM profile, then you know that "I slept in a crime scene." Some of you have heard my first hand account of this situation, some of you have not. While I cannot go into explicit detail as the police report is still open and this is a public forum, I can tell you that I did, in fact, sleep in a crime scene.
The basics:
I checked the apartment of a friend who is out of town. I frequently do this as a favor to her and her parents, especially when it is on the way of my travels. In times past, there have been no issues.
This time, as I walked into her apartment, I noticed a few things that looked suspicious, and felt that there was a possibility of a burglary or robbery. At first, it appeared that someone had only broken in, entered, perhaps cased the place, and left. I couldn't find any evidence of something missing.
But when I talked to her parents, I discovered that something indeed was stolen, and I, in fact, was standing in the scene of a crime, a robbery to be exact.
Still, though, I wanted to believe that everything was OK and nothing major had actually happened. Again, I can't go into detail, but I can tell you that I cleaned up some of what could be evidence, showered, and slept on the couch for a good eight hours of time.
In summary:
I walked into what I perceived to be a crime scene.
I cleaned up some evidence in what I perceived to be a crime scene.
I showered in what I perceived to be a crime scene.
My fingerprints are all over what I perceived to be a crime scene.
I slept in what I perceived to be a crime scene.
Now, if you know me, you know I have a strong love of crime television like CSI and Law and Order. You also know that I am a fairly clear-headed, intelligent individual. You may also know that I worked in residence life for many years, responding to emergencies and dealing with situations that just "don't seem right." So I know what you are thinking:
"Carol, you're a dumbass. Why did you do that? Why, of all things especially, did you sleep there? Are you nuts?"
Well, I mean, if I wanted to feel bad about myself, I guess I am dumb, nuts, etc. However, I really wanted to believe the damage was done and everything would be OK once the landlord was contacted, checked the place, etc. Seriously, this is what I believed.
In reality, the fact of the matter is, a few hours after I left the apartment, the apartment was again broken into and another attempt at robbery was made. The criminals were unsuccessful, however, but this does, in fact, prove that I slept in a crime scene and may have just altered the plans of some robbers for a few hours.
Ridiculous? Yes.
Am I happy to be alive? Yes.
Do I think it is now funny that I did all of the above? Yes.
Am I convinced this is the story I need to get on Survivor? Yes.
Have I gained a new perspective on life? You bet I did.
But the fact of the matter still remains, I slept in a crime scene.
Now how many people can say that about their weekend?
Anyway, if ridiculous is what you want, then ridiculous is what you'll get.
If you're someone who has my IM profile, then you know that "I slept in a crime scene." Some of you have heard my first hand account of this situation, some of you have not. While I cannot go into explicit detail as the police report is still open and this is a public forum, I can tell you that I did, in fact, sleep in a crime scene.
The basics:
I checked the apartment of a friend who is out of town. I frequently do this as a favor to her and her parents, especially when it is on the way of my travels. In times past, there have been no issues.
This time, as I walked into her apartment, I noticed a few things that looked suspicious, and felt that there was a possibility of a burglary or robbery. At first, it appeared that someone had only broken in, entered, perhaps cased the place, and left. I couldn't find any evidence of something missing.
But when I talked to her parents, I discovered that something indeed was stolen, and I, in fact, was standing in the scene of a crime, a robbery to be exact.
Still, though, I wanted to believe that everything was OK and nothing major had actually happened. Again, I can't go into detail, but I can tell you that I cleaned up some of what could be evidence, showered, and slept on the couch for a good eight hours of time.
In summary:
I walked into what I perceived to be a crime scene.
I cleaned up some evidence in what I perceived to be a crime scene.
I showered in what I perceived to be a crime scene.
My fingerprints are all over what I perceived to be a crime scene.
I slept in what I perceived to be a crime scene.
Now, if you know me, you know I have a strong love of crime television like CSI and Law and Order. You also know that I am a fairly clear-headed, intelligent individual. You may also know that I worked in residence life for many years, responding to emergencies and dealing with situations that just "don't seem right." So I know what you are thinking:
"Carol, you're a dumbass. Why did you do that? Why, of all things especially, did you sleep there? Are you nuts?"
Well, I mean, if I wanted to feel bad about myself, I guess I am dumb, nuts, etc. However, I really wanted to believe the damage was done and everything would be OK once the landlord was contacted, checked the place, etc. Seriously, this is what I believed.
In reality, the fact of the matter is, a few hours after I left the apartment, the apartment was again broken into and another attempt at robbery was made. The criminals were unsuccessful, however, but this does, in fact, prove that I slept in a crime scene and may have just altered the plans of some robbers for a few hours.
Ridiculous? Yes.
Am I happy to be alive? Yes.
Do I think it is now funny that I did all of the above? Yes.
Am I convinced this is the story I need to get on Survivor? Yes.
Have I gained a new perspective on life? You bet I did.
But the fact of the matter still remains, I slept in a crime scene.
Now how many people can say that about their weekend?
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
We are never, ever the same...
As someone who spent six years in higher education as a student and now as someone who works with college students, my life revolves around semesters. Life focuses on four months at a time. Sure, college is typically measured in years (the best four to seven years of your life, as the saying goes) but life really revolves around a semester to semester existence. Semesters come and semesters go.
Each new year and each new semester bring new people into my life. I can't recall a semester in the past seven years where I didn't meet someone new and form a new friendship or relationship. This is what made college and graduate school so special and what continues to make my time in my job special as well. There is the constant opportunity to open up my life to new people, new experiences. With this, there is the opportunity to allow someone to become a part of my life and change my experiences and myself in ways never before believed possible.
I feel fortunate to have allowed many people to become a part of my life over the past ten months I have spent in Memphis. I feel pretty blessed to be supported by my coworkers and trusted by the students I work with on a daily basis. I also feel extremely grateful for the ways in which these people have changed me that make me prouder of who I am, both personally and professionally. It is with a deep sense of gratitude and pride that I think about the many interactions I have had this past year that have had a great influence on my life.
Over the last two weeks, though, I have also experienced feelings of sadness as I have had to say good-bye to some amazing individuals who I had the pleasure of knowing throughout this year. I wish I could say confidently that the time I spent with them was everything I needed it to be and wanted it to be. But life isn't always fair, and for some, I wish there was more time spent together and more memories to hold on to tightly for the rest of time.
I know I should try to erase these feelings of sadness and perhaps adopt the motto "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened" (I think that gets credited to Dr. Seuss). Yet, I can't shake the feeling right now of wishing there was a little bit more -- just one more moment to make a memory that can last a lifetime.
I hope if you're reading this and you are one of those people, you know how truly special you are in my life and that I am sad to see you go. I guess I will have to hold on to the hope that our paths will cross again and we are presented with the opportunity to create just one more memory.
And so it is that another semester has come and gone. I guess I just needed to take some time out of the hustle and bustle of my life to reflect on the many people that have influenced me this past year. In closing, I find this quote sums up my feelings:
"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Others stay for a while and move our souls to dance. They awaken us to understanding, with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints on our hearts,and we are never, ever the same." - Anonymous
Each new year and each new semester bring new people into my life. I can't recall a semester in the past seven years where I didn't meet someone new and form a new friendship or relationship. This is what made college and graduate school so special and what continues to make my time in my job special as well. There is the constant opportunity to open up my life to new people, new experiences. With this, there is the opportunity to allow someone to become a part of my life and change my experiences and myself in ways never before believed possible.
I feel fortunate to have allowed many people to become a part of my life over the past ten months I have spent in Memphis. I feel pretty blessed to be supported by my coworkers and trusted by the students I work with on a daily basis. I also feel extremely grateful for the ways in which these people have changed me that make me prouder of who I am, both personally and professionally. It is with a deep sense of gratitude and pride that I think about the many interactions I have had this past year that have had a great influence on my life.
Over the last two weeks, though, I have also experienced feelings of sadness as I have had to say good-bye to some amazing individuals who I had the pleasure of knowing throughout this year. I wish I could say confidently that the time I spent with them was everything I needed it to be and wanted it to be. But life isn't always fair, and for some, I wish there was more time spent together and more memories to hold on to tightly for the rest of time.
I know I should try to erase these feelings of sadness and perhaps adopt the motto "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened" (I think that gets credited to Dr. Seuss). Yet, I can't shake the feeling right now of wishing there was a little bit more -- just one more moment to make a memory that can last a lifetime.
I hope if you're reading this and you are one of those people, you know how truly special you are in my life and that I am sad to see you go. I guess I will have to hold on to the hope that our paths will cross again and we are presented with the opportunity to create just one more memory.
And so it is that another semester has come and gone. I guess I just needed to take some time out of the hustle and bustle of my life to reflect on the many people that have influenced me this past year. In closing, I find this quote sums up my feelings:
"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Others stay for a while and move our souls to dance. They awaken us to understanding, with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints on our hearts,and we are never, ever the same." - Anonymous
Monday, May 08, 2006
Music Fest: Recap Two - The Madness
Three days of participation in the Beale St. Music Festival provide countless opportunities to examine the madness of our fellow human beings. A rehash of my general observations:
*Why is it that you can smell the pot, but you can never see the pot?
*White men, particularly white men tripping on acid and/or drunk, can't dance.
*Hippies are more suited to events such as this. They don't mind being dirty and smelly or a seriously disgusting combination of both. Hippies win.
*Funnel cakes and beer should be provided in discount combination packages.
*I hate back packs and concert-goers who wear them, particularly those who are 5'10, 250 pounds with no neck who repeatedly smash me in the arm and back with said back pack.
*It's hard being a Cubs fan in the dirty south. I'm not, so this doesn't effect me, but Bridget almost got in a few fights because of her Cubs attire.
*Port-a-potties are disgusting. This is just another example of male domination over the female. Men can use a port-a-potty minus the extreme risks women experience, and for that, I am a bitter party of one.
*People who wear cargo pants and make use of every pocket until they are bulging from one's sides should invest in new gear -- you just look stupid.
*Jean on jean crime is on the rise. Do you know how many fellow humans wear a combination of jeans with a jean jacket? It's just wrong.
*Fanny packs are also wrong. It's not the 80s people, get with the program.
*Public displays of affection might be my least favorite thing to witness. I don't mind a little hand holding or a little kiss here and there, but those people who got at it in broad daylight drive me nuts. We get it, you're happy. Do you have to rub it in the faces of us single folk? Barf.
I think that about covers the main ridiculousness observed.
My main accomplishments:
-Raise tolerance to second hand smoke - check.
-Raise tolerance to second hand pot - check.
-Raise tolerance to other people's ridiculousness - um, not sure I accomplished this -- people drive me nuts.
Volunteer bouncer 243, will you marry me? We can produce music festival loving babies. I promise it will be worth it.
Aren't you sad you missed the madness? Then again, what is a music festival without madness? Boring, that's what, and this weekend was certainly far from it.
*Why is it that you can smell the pot, but you can never see the pot?
*White men, particularly white men tripping on acid and/or drunk, can't dance.
*Hippies are more suited to events such as this. They don't mind being dirty and smelly or a seriously disgusting combination of both. Hippies win.
*Funnel cakes and beer should be provided in discount combination packages.
*I hate back packs and concert-goers who wear them, particularly those who are 5'10, 250 pounds with no neck who repeatedly smash me in the arm and back with said back pack.
*It's hard being a Cubs fan in the dirty south. I'm not, so this doesn't effect me, but Bridget almost got in a few fights because of her Cubs attire.
*Port-a-potties are disgusting. This is just another example of male domination over the female. Men can use a port-a-potty minus the extreme risks women experience, and for that, I am a bitter party of one.
*People who wear cargo pants and make use of every pocket until they are bulging from one's sides should invest in new gear -- you just look stupid.
*Jean on jean crime is on the rise. Do you know how many fellow humans wear a combination of jeans with a jean jacket? It's just wrong.
*Fanny packs are also wrong. It's not the 80s people, get with the program.
*Public displays of affection might be my least favorite thing to witness. I don't mind a little hand holding or a little kiss here and there, but those people who got at it in broad daylight drive me nuts. We get it, you're happy. Do you have to rub it in the faces of us single folk? Barf.
I think that about covers the main ridiculousness observed.
My main accomplishments:
-Raise tolerance to second hand smoke - check.
-Raise tolerance to second hand pot - check.
-Raise tolerance to other people's ridiculousness - um, not sure I accomplished this -- people drive me nuts.
Volunteer bouncer 243, will you marry me? We can produce music festival loving babies. I promise it will be worth it.
Aren't you sad you missed the madness? Then again, what is a music festival without madness? Boring, that's what, and this weekend was certainly far from it.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Music Fest: Recap 1 -- The Music
The Beale St. Music Festival hosted a variety of artists over a three day span. I had been in anticipation of this event for quite some time because of my love of music. This post will highlight my recap of the artists I viewed.
Friday, May 5
Started the night off with Jason Mraz, of whom I would consider myself a fan. However, this appearance left much to be desired, and Jason Mraz gets the award for second most disappointing performance. Maybe I set my standards too high. At an event where I have to stand around to listen to the music, I want some music infused with high energy. Jason Mraz basically did the opposite -- played slow, lame, and depressing songs and I found myself bored. Not cool, Jason, not cool.
Now, old timer Bryan Adams was a totally different story. Despite being surrounded by the old folk crowd, Bryan Adams had a pretty solid performance. I mean, any time you can hear him sing "Summer of '69" is going to be well worth the experience. This 80s star still has it, even when he slows it down with "Everything I do, I do it for you" (thanks for taking me back to fifth grade dances with that one -- I love a good walk down memory lane).
After hearing all I wanted to hear from Bryan Adams, I deemed it worthy to walk on down to hear some Puddle of Mudd. Talk about a culture change. Do I ever fit in at a concert? I wondered. Certainly not with this crowd. But it was interesting to hear them. People really seem to like this music, maybe because it's edgy. But honestly, the lead singer should be called the lead yeller. I mean, don't get me wrong, he has a voice, but most of his "singing" was really "screaming" into the microphone, particularly in the encore performance of "She F*cking Hates Me". I did enjoy the live version of "Blurry", however, so it wasn't all that overwhelming.
Finished the night with Train. I like Train, I have for quite some time. Unlike Jason Mraz, Train started with two of its more popular songs, like "Meet Virginia". Now, I haven't kept up with them lately, so again this performance was slightly disappointing because their new material, which was played for about forty minutes, was slower. Also, the lead singer talked way too much between songs. This isn't VH1 Storytellers, Pat Monahan, sing the damn songs I want to hear. Then again, I was tired of standing at this point, and the decision was made to leave before hearing "Drops of Jupiter". Maybe next time.
All in all, day one was a decent showing, not to mention a beautiful evening to be outside and listen to these performances.
Saturday, May 6
Despite Mother Nature's teasing of rain storms, the decision was made to tough it out. This decision was indeed a good one. Day two was unbelievably entertaining.
Kicked the night off with "the living legend", "the killer", "the hall of famer" Jerry Lee Lewis. Did I mention he's a "legend"? Jerry Lee Lewis was great. For being in his 70s, he can still sing like the rockstar he was in the 60s. Did I mention he's a "legend"? It was great to hear "Great Balls of Fire" and other Jerry Lee classics live. What an honor to see "the legend" in person. As I said, he can sing like no other. He doesn't really speak well, however, and I often couldn't understand what he was saying between songs. I was most impressed, however, that he somehow found a way to sing his own name in just about every song he played. Did I mention he's a "legend"? If you didn't know he was a "legend" before this event, the announcer would have made sure you knew, as he said so about 1000 times. Thanks, pal, we get it. Thanks, Jerry Lee, you rock.
Bruce Hornsby, you didn't rock. Bruce Hornsby's first 15 minutes of the performance were so boring, I wanted to stab myself in the eye. I couldn't even muster the energy to stick around to hear "The Way It Is". I'd like those 15 minutes of my life back, please.
After a treacherous hike through the mud down to the other end of the venue, I had the extremely unusual experience of watching Little Richard perform. Shut up, I'm not kidding. Little Richard is one messed up maniac. In his flashy attire, he definitely kept you interested in what he was going to say between songs. Some examples:
"I'd like a fat juicy white woman to come on stage. I also want a fat juicy black woman to come on stage. And a Mexican. Get on up here." (Note: Not one woman who went on stage would have been considered 'fat' and/or 'juicy' by my definitions)
"Shut up."
"I'm from Macon, GA."
"You can buy my picture and come to trailer 10 and I'll sign it for you. I want to meet you nice people. I'll write whatever you want on it, as long as it's good."
"Shut up."
"I am a child of the Lord."
"Shut up."
"Don't forget to buy my picture and I'll sign it for you."
"Shut up."
Seriously, Little Richard was outta control.
The night ended in absolutely enjoyable fashion, with Huey Lewis and the News. Spectating from the third row was quite the experience and Huey Lewis and the News were unbelievably enjoyable and entertaining. I thought my friend Bridget was going to die from excitement. They rocked for a solid hour and a half and played just about every hit you can think of. I also appreciated the use of the harmonica, well done Huey. Well worth the wait -- these old dudes can rock with the best of them. I think it's safe to say Huey Lewis and the News get the award for "best performance".
Day two was solid.
Sunday, March 7
I must be nuts to have ventured out for the last night of this event. I'm weak, I won't like, and I was definitely tired and my legs hurt. But this didn't stop me. Off again we went. Day three wasn't awful but it wasn't great either.
First up was Chicago. In the first fifteen minutes of their performance, they managed to sing approximately 7 words. Um, where have all the vocals gone? I mean, come on - sing to me, damnit, that's why I'm here. Chicago's been around for more than thirty years, and one might think that they would continue to rock out to their 'oldies but goodies' but somehow, this seemed only appropriate for the last fifteen minutes of their performance. They were OK, but again, I'd like this hour of my life back. Chicago - most disappointing performance award goes to you.
Next, we listened to some Blues Traveler -- again, I enjoy the harmonica. Blues Traveler is pretty solid in my book -- opened with two good songs, which gave me the momentum I needed to wait around for James Brown to get on stage.
We waited, and waited, and waited. His band got on stage and made a giant production about the appearance of the "godfather of soul" -- it took him about fifteen minutes to get on stage. My patience had run out at this point, so I didn't get to hear much of this legend. He too, however, did sing his own name in one of his songs -- I guess that's what legends do.
We ended the event with "Hook" by Blues Traveler -- extremely solid.
Day three, not so great, but the harmonica pulled me through.
Beale St. Musical Festival, I rate you about a 7 out of 10. Thanks for the memories, which I will comment on later in the week as a I recount the ridiculousness of my fellow humans as observed during these three days of music mayhem. Until then, I will wash the stench from my body, massage the legs, and relieve myself of my second-hand pot addiction.
Friday, May 5
Started the night off with Jason Mraz, of whom I would consider myself a fan. However, this appearance left much to be desired, and Jason Mraz gets the award for second most disappointing performance. Maybe I set my standards too high. At an event where I have to stand around to listen to the music, I want some music infused with high energy. Jason Mraz basically did the opposite -- played slow, lame, and depressing songs and I found myself bored. Not cool, Jason, not cool.
Now, old timer Bryan Adams was a totally different story. Despite being surrounded by the old folk crowd, Bryan Adams had a pretty solid performance. I mean, any time you can hear him sing "Summer of '69" is going to be well worth the experience. This 80s star still has it, even when he slows it down with "Everything I do, I do it for you" (thanks for taking me back to fifth grade dances with that one -- I love a good walk down memory lane).
After hearing all I wanted to hear from Bryan Adams, I deemed it worthy to walk on down to hear some Puddle of Mudd. Talk about a culture change. Do I ever fit in at a concert? I wondered. Certainly not with this crowd. But it was interesting to hear them. People really seem to like this music, maybe because it's edgy. But honestly, the lead singer should be called the lead yeller. I mean, don't get me wrong, he has a voice, but most of his "singing" was really "screaming" into the microphone, particularly in the encore performance of "She F*cking Hates Me". I did enjoy the live version of "Blurry", however, so it wasn't all that overwhelming.
Finished the night with Train. I like Train, I have for quite some time. Unlike Jason Mraz, Train started with two of its more popular songs, like "Meet Virginia". Now, I haven't kept up with them lately, so again this performance was slightly disappointing because their new material, which was played for about forty minutes, was slower. Also, the lead singer talked way too much between songs. This isn't VH1 Storytellers, Pat Monahan, sing the damn songs I want to hear. Then again, I was tired of standing at this point, and the decision was made to leave before hearing "Drops of Jupiter". Maybe next time.
All in all, day one was a decent showing, not to mention a beautiful evening to be outside and listen to these performances.
Saturday, May 6
Despite Mother Nature's teasing of rain storms, the decision was made to tough it out. This decision was indeed a good one. Day two was unbelievably entertaining.
Kicked the night off with "the living legend", "the killer", "the hall of famer" Jerry Lee Lewis. Did I mention he's a "legend"? Jerry Lee Lewis was great. For being in his 70s, he can still sing like the rockstar he was in the 60s. Did I mention he's a "legend"? It was great to hear "Great Balls of Fire" and other Jerry Lee classics live. What an honor to see "the legend" in person. As I said, he can sing like no other. He doesn't really speak well, however, and I often couldn't understand what he was saying between songs. I was most impressed, however, that he somehow found a way to sing his own name in just about every song he played. Did I mention he's a "legend"? If you didn't know he was a "legend" before this event, the announcer would have made sure you knew, as he said so about 1000 times. Thanks, pal, we get it. Thanks, Jerry Lee, you rock.
Bruce Hornsby, you didn't rock. Bruce Hornsby's first 15 minutes of the performance were so boring, I wanted to stab myself in the eye. I couldn't even muster the energy to stick around to hear "The Way It Is". I'd like those 15 minutes of my life back, please.
After a treacherous hike through the mud down to the other end of the venue, I had the extremely unusual experience of watching Little Richard perform. Shut up, I'm not kidding. Little Richard is one messed up maniac. In his flashy attire, he definitely kept you interested in what he was going to say between songs. Some examples:
"I'd like a fat juicy white woman to come on stage. I also want a fat juicy black woman to come on stage. And a Mexican. Get on up here." (Note: Not one woman who went on stage would have been considered 'fat' and/or 'juicy' by my definitions)
"Shut up."
"I'm from Macon, GA."
"You can buy my picture and come to trailer 10 and I'll sign it for you. I want to meet you nice people. I'll write whatever you want on it, as long as it's good."
"Shut up."
"I am a child of the Lord."
"Shut up."
"Don't forget to buy my picture and I'll sign it for you."
"Shut up."
Seriously, Little Richard was outta control.
The night ended in absolutely enjoyable fashion, with Huey Lewis and the News. Spectating from the third row was quite the experience and Huey Lewis and the News were unbelievably enjoyable and entertaining. I thought my friend Bridget was going to die from excitement. They rocked for a solid hour and a half and played just about every hit you can think of. I also appreciated the use of the harmonica, well done Huey. Well worth the wait -- these old dudes can rock with the best of them. I think it's safe to say Huey Lewis and the News get the award for "best performance".
Day two was solid.
Sunday, March 7
I must be nuts to have ventured out for the last night of this event. I'm weak, I won't like, and I was definitely tired and my legs hurt. But this didn't stop me. Off again we went. Day three wasn't awful but it wasn't great either.
First up was Chicago. In the first fifteen minutes of their performance, they managed to sing approximately 7 words. Um, where have all the vocals gone? I mean, come on - sing to me, damnit, that's why I'm here. Chicago's been around for more than thirty years, and one might think that they would continue to rock out to their 'oldies but goodies' but somehow, this seemed only appropriate for the last fifteen minutes of their performance. They were OK, but again, I'd like this hour of my life back. Chicago - most disappointing performance award goes to you.
Next, we listened to some Blues Traveler -- again, I enjoy the harmonica. Blues Traveler is pretty solid in my book -- opened with two good songs, which gave me the momentum I needed to wait around for James Brown to get on stage.
We waited, and waited, and waited. His band got on stage and made a giant production about the appearance of the "godfather of soul" -- it took him about fifteen minutes to get on stage. My patience had run out at this point, so I didn't get to hear much of this legend. He too, however, did sing his own name in one of his songs -- I guess that's what legends do.
We ended the event with "Hook" by Blues Traveler -- extremely solid.
Day three, not so great, but the harmonica pulled me through.
Beale St. Musical Festival, I rate you about a 7 out of 10. Thanks for the memories, which I will comment on later in the week as a I recount the ridiculousness of my fellow humans as observed during these three days of music mayhem. Until then, I will wash the stench from my body, massage the legs, and relieve myself of my second-hand pot addiction.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Let's Make a Deal
My good friends know that I am in the market for a new cell phone and a new cell phone plan. If you don't know, I have had a phone for what seems like eternity -- it is best described as Zack Morris -- so if you recall the telephone used by Zack on the old Saved by the Bell episodes, you'll get the right mental picture. People make fun of me for this phone, but I have embraced it. Anyway, the fact of the matter is, it's time for some changes in my abilities to communicate with the world.
My mom just had surgery and since I am working all day, I decided to put her free time to use. I had her call Nextel, my current service provider, to find out a few things about my desire to switch service providers. The savvy saleswoman that she is, Mom was able to work her magic and get offered an amazing deal through Nextel. Though I'd rather have a different carrier, I am cheap and couldn't say no to this offer. Therefore, I surfed the web for a new phone and then called back to sign on for the deal they offered Mom. "That offer was a mistake. It is not available," the woman said. "To hell it ain't", I thought. This was unacceptable.
So, like any needy child, I called Mom back and she got on the horn. Boy, did she ever. Working her magic like only she could, she convinced Randy that she was getting that offer for me and it was going to work out. Randy couldn't argue, so he called me for a three-way discussion of what I wanted to do. He asked what phone I wanted.
"Randy," I said, "I'd love to be the new owner of an i850 model phone." It's quite the upgrade from the old Zack Morris and I wanted it.
Randy said, "My girlfriend has that phone and it's sharp. I am certain you'll like it."
"Thanks, Randy. That's what I like to hear," I replied.
After a few entries into his thrifty computer and after he listened to my mom and I jabber on about our day's events, Randy said, "OK, all of the information is in the computer. I gotta tell you, though, you should be extremely pleased with this offer. You're getting a $350 phone for $80 and a cell phone plan that even I am not able to have, and I work here!"
"That's what I like to hear, Randy!" I said. "That's how we do it."
Randy thanked us for our time and hung up. I immediately called Mom back and praised her for her amazing negotiation skills. I may have said something along the lines of: "Mom, you're a frickin genius - you rock my world." She is indeed a rock star, I tell you, and soon, I will have the new phone and plan to prove it. Expect a call from me soon.
My mom just had surgery and since I am working all day, I decided to put her free time to use. I had her call Nextel, my current service provider, to find out a few things about my desire to switch service providers. The savvy saleswoman that she is, Mom was able to work her magic and get offered an amazing deal through Nextel. Though I'd rather have a different carrier, I am cheap and couldn't say no to this offer. Therefore, I surfed the web for a new phone and then called back to sign on for the deal they offered Mom. "That offer was a mistake. It is not available," the woman said. "To hell it ain't", I thought. This was unacceptable.
So, like any needy child, I called Mom back and she got on the horn. Boy, did she ever. Working her magic like only she could, she convinced Randy that she was getting that offer for me and it was going to work out. Randy couldn't argue, so he called me for a three-way discussion of what I wanted to do. He asked what phone I wanted.
"Randy," I said, "I'd love to be the new owner of an i850 model phone." It's quite the upgrade from the old Zack Morris and I wanted it.
Randy said, "My girlfriend has that phone and it's sharp. I am certain you'll like it."
"Thanks, Randy. That's what I like to hear," I replied.
After a few entries into his thrifty computer and after he listened to my mom and I jabber on about our day's events, Randy said, "OK, all of the information is in the computer. I gotta tell you, though, you should be extremely pleased with this offer. You're getting a $350 phone for $80 and a cell phone plan that even I am not able to have, and I work here!"
"That's what I like to hear, Randy!" I said. "That's how we do it."
Randy thanked us for our time and hung up. I immediately called Mom back and praised her for her amazing negotiation skills. I may have said something along the lines of: "Mom, you're a frickin genius - you rock my world." She is indeed a rock star, I tell you, and soon, I will have the new phone and plan to prove it. Expect a call from me soon.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Mangia! Mangia!
I love food. It's definitely my second favorite thing behind sports and before sleep. The Food Network is my third favorite channel, behind CBS and ESPN. Like any good Italians, my family spends many moments around food -- we gather, we eat; we celebrate, we eat; we get bored, we eat. Food is a significant part of my life and I love it. I'll say it again. I love food.
Moving away from home was scary at first when I went to college because I feared the food would be disappointing. For four years at Bucknell, however, I had everything I ever wanted in terms of food options. "The Caf" was certainly my favorite place to go for the simple fact that "all you can eat" options make me extremely happy. The more the merrier, I say. Let's not forget about the occasional trip to Larison Dining Hall for a personal pizza you made yourself or the occasional trip to The Bison for a pretty solid sandwich/soup combo or a giant sub (which, by the way, were WAY better when we were freshmen and they were made upstairs near the Terrace Room and not actually in The Bison). But seriously, I ate pretty well in college and that was a good thing.
Graduate school left nothing to be desired as well in terms of the food options. The food across campus was diverse and delicious. I still crave stir-fry and my made-to-order hot Italian sub from Encore, by far my favorite place to eat. Mmmm. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. Again, I ate pretty well and that was a good thing.
Growing up like I did, I swore I would never eat boxed meals. I swore I'd never succomb to the wrath of Lean Cuisine and Marie Callender and Hungry Man. I vowed to cook and use my food knowledge and eat healthy and often.
But alas, I succombed. I have no excuses for falling off this wagon, but more often than I would like to admit I eat food from a box. It hit me recently how often I do this.
I went to a dinner with one of the teams I work with and one of the players said, "Carol, this is the first time I ever saw you eat food that didn't come from a box." I wanted to crawl into a hole and die when he said this; he was right, I eat this crap way too much.
This depressed me. You see, I do love to cook, but I don't really like leftovers and any good chef will tell you it's hard to cook for one person (it's also not very fun... I mean, cooking with friends, drinking some good wine, and setting off fire alarms in residence halls is MUCH more fun). It's also cheap and easy to buy these meals, throw them in the "nooker" (aka, a microwave for you elitists out there), and scarf on down.
Seriously, though, I will not be discouraged. I am confident I can overcome this food challenge and rise victorious and more satisfied in my food consumption. For starters, I realized this week that I have successfully managed to go three entire weeks without eating any variety of Hot Pockets. I can't say the same for Lean Cuisine but I am making progress, and that too is a good thing.
Moving away from home was scary at first when I went to college because I feared the food would be disappointing. For four years at Bucknell, however, I had everything I ever wanted in terms of food options. "The Caf" was certainly my favorite place to go for the simple fact that "all you can eat" options make me extremely happy. The more the merrier, I say. Let's not forget about the occasional trip to Larison Dining Hall for a personal pizza you made yourself or the occasional trip to The Bison for a pretty solid sandwich/soup combo or a giant sub (which, by the way, were WAY better when we were freshmen and they were made upstairs near the Terrace Room and not actually in The Bison). But seriously, I ate pretty well in college and that was a good thing.
Graduate school left nothing to be desired as well in terms of the food options. The food across campus was diverse and delicious. I still crave stir-fry and my made-to-order hot Italian sub from Encore, by far my favorite place to eat. Mmmm. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it. Again, I ate pretty well and that was a good thing.
Growing up like I did, I swore I would never eat boxed meals. I swore I'd never succomb to the wrath of Lean Cuisine and Marie Callender and Hungry Man. I vowed to cook and use my food knowledge and eat healthy and often.
But alas, I succombed. I have no excuses for falling off this wagon, but more often than I would like to admit I eat food from a box. It hit me recently how often I do this.
I went to a dinner with one of the teams I work with and one of the players said, "Carol, this is the first time I ever saw you eat food that didn't come from a box." I wanted to crawl into a hole and die when he said this; he was right, I eat this crap way too much.
This depressed me. You see, I do love to cook, but I don't really like leftovers and any good chef will tell you it's hard to cook for one person (it's also not very fun... I mean, cooking with friends, drinking some good wine, and setting off fire alarms in residence halls is MUCH more fun). It's also cheap and easy to buy these meals, throw them in the "nooker" (aka, a microwave for you elitists out there), and scarf on down.
Seriously, though, I will not be discouraged. I am confident I can overcome this food challenge and rise victorious and more satisfied in my food consumption. For starters, I realized this week that I have successfully managed to go three entire weeks without eating any variety of Hot Pockets. I can't say the same for Lean Cuisine but I am making progress, and that too is a good thing.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
