T.S. Eliot is better than Broadway

Another new post? My goodness, what is going on?

I chatted with some students for two whole hours after school today. It was wonderful. I love spending time with my students and just getting to know them as people.

Also, tonight was the awards banquet. Next year I'll be up there giving the awards and the little speech for the all-school play, and I realized something:

I'm going to be in way over my head when it comes to putting on a play next year!

I mean, I'm very excited for it, don't get me wrong. I love theatre, and I love acting. I have a lot of experience on all stages of the theatre process, but I still have never actually directed a play on my own. But even that won't be the hardest part. I have to coordinate schedules, work with the activities director, make sure that I have a venue that works, equipment that works......yikes! I'm a more big ideas person and a thinker. I'm not so much a doer. Little nitpicking things like that are tough for me. So I'm already praying that the play will go over well.

Also, I'm about to go through T.S. Eliot with my seniors (yay!) and that led me to revisit my love the of musical Cats. Well, I should say, my former love. It was my literal obsession when I was about five. Not kidding. Here's how it went down:

My sister and I would invite our friends Sheena and Whitney over to play. We'd put on my parents' record (yes, record, as in vinyl) of the musical and then we'd race up the stairs that led down to the living room. Then it was time to make our grand entrances.

You had to creep down the stairs, gingerly, one foot at a time, and make sure you were extra graceful. You were pretending to be a cat, after all. Then you had to move around the living room in a pre-choreographed dance while mouthing all the words. No real singing allowed.

We always fought over who got to be what cat. As in, we would all crowd around the open record cover, looking at the dingy photographs from the original production, and fight over who got to be which cat. I always wanted to be the one with the sleek bodysuit and the Siamese coloring. My sister and the other girls would fight over who got to be the pure white fluffy cat. She was the prettiest.

I secretly wanted to be her too, but I figured that it wasn't worth fighting over. And hey, the Siamese was very pretty in her own way.

Looking back, our little shows were basically just four girls under six years old crawling around on the floor while a record played in the background, meowing, arguing over being imaginary actresses, and forcing our poor parents to sit through yet another show--same as the last seven.

Ah, simpler times.

Dresses and techno

It's been awhile, I know.

Things were tough that week. Not just that day. That week.

I cried. A lot. I haven't cried much since coming to Ashland. And that week the floodgates opened up. And it was legitimate, sure. No one likes being told they are hated. And me? Well, we know I take all things to heart, and I love everyone. And being hated by someone simply boggles my mind, I suppose.

Thankfully people reached out. And I felt loved. And comforted. And I'm grateful for all the people who soothed me, tried to make me laugh through the tears, and gave me some perspective.

Lots has gone on. I don't have space to get into it all. Many things are still the same. Loving my kids. Loving living here. Loving my surrogate family. Looking forward to summer. Still being a girl.

And speaking of being a girl, I went shopping for a Prom dress yesterday.

Let me remind you, my dear readers: I hate shopping. I'm too picky. And even worse, I hate shopping with people. So imagine my comfort while shopping for something specific (i.e. Prom dress) with people (i.e. my girlfriends) for an unspecified amount of time.

Don't get me wrong. I love my girls. And I loved seeing them. But I felt like I was dragging them along and taking up their afternoon while trying on awful dress after awful dress. Granted, the dresses were pretty and the girls were having fun (especially when I flashed them and hey, they asked for it!), but I still felt slightly uncomfortable.

BUT! This story has a happy ending! Prom dress has been procured! And wow. It's a beauty. It's a beautiful color, flowing and simple, yet very nicely shaped. I feel awesome in this dress.

It was, however much too long in the straps. And you know what? Today I actually acted even
more like a woman and shortened the straps myself. That's right, folks. Yours truly ripped seams, pushed down the straps, and sewed the dress back up. And it was successful!

Have I lost your attention my dear male readers? I know all this dress talk must be endlessly boring for you.

Hmm. How about this?

I saw HANNA as well.

Holy. Crap. What a movie.

It's beautiful and vicious. That's the best way to describe it. The fight scenes are Bourne-ish. The world is stylized and lush, even in stark places like the snowy forest. And the violence is unapologetic and incredibly in-your-face. These aren't characters who hesitate when it's time to pull the trigger. No. It gets done.

And the soundtrack? Oh my word. The Chemical Brothers. Not kidding, I was sitting practically
on my knees in the theatre chair because I was so excited by this music.

A sucker for kick-A fight scenes paired with hard, industrial techno and throbbing bass? Yeah, ok, you caught me. Guilty.

Here, take a listen to this one. Made the movie for me.

Don't like it? Well, no one's perfect. But I'll like you just a little bit less.

Silliness and a serious case of the tingles

Hello my faithful followers.

I'm trying to be a faithful blogger for you. Sometimes it's hard. I mean, I'm sure we're very similar. This means that many of the thoughts floating around my head are nothing new. Just same old thoughts. Floatin' around. Gettin' kinda annoying. This sort of makes it hard to write things for you. And unless something hilarious happens to me I doubt any of you would be interested in the goings on of my life.

Although (and I blush to confess it) I did manage to burn a cake tonight. I know. To cinders. Ugh. Maybe I can cook, but bake? Not exactly. Dang. But it's ok anyway. It was a pineapple cake, and don't ask me why I had one. I don't know. Cause I sure wasn't going to like it anyway. Now I love pineapples, but as a cake? Meh.

See? That was my one anecdote from the day. Pineapples and burnt cakes. Aren't you glad I shared? Don't you feel enlightened? Entertained? No? See? Told you.

Oh, or how about this? I tried on my old dresses from high school today. Yep, they still fit. And I look better in them now.

Yeah.....that was definitely interesting.

Last night a friend and I chatted about my high school days. We went through my old yearbooks, reading comments, laughing at the things people wrote, "aww"ing at the sweet or touching things from friends, and counting up the number of guys I had crushes on each year. Sophomore year was the worst: 12. And that's only the boys who signed my yearbook...

Oh my readers. You have no idea how ridiculously boy crazy I used to be. I'm calmer now, thankfully.

But it made me think about high school. And how much I lived for theatre and choir. Lived for them, people. They were my passions. I know now that theatre was a passion because I loved the people. I loved being in front of an audience and keeping them entertained. And I loved music because, well, it is the foundation of my soul.

Dang, that's deep.

My love of theatre has transferred in interesting ways.

I love entertaining people. Keeping them laughing. Cracking jokes. Making the offhanded comment that puts people in stitches. As any of my friends can tell you, I bank a lot of my personality on the fact that I'm short, cute, and silly. I lessened early on that I cannot tell a joke or make a whip smart remark very well (although the "your face" formula has yet to let me down), so instead I channeled my ability to entertain into being the one that people laughed AT.

Luckily, God made me naturally clumsy, quirky, and fun-sized--all a rather brilliant combination for being laughed at.

My love of theatre also transferred into being a teacher. Thanks to years of performing I can easily tell when I'm losing an audience, and I'm always thinking in terms of keeping my audience's attention. And if I'm losing it then I just act dumb for a second, people laugh, and we get right back on track.

Ah, manipulation. So good.

In all honesty, it's the people who are closest to me, who I trust most, and who know the real me who get to see my seriousness. The quiet me. If I haven't made a joke in thirty minutes and we're just hanging out, don't worry. Nothing is wrong. You're actually just seeing regular ol' MB. The one without the silly games or the shows of clumsiness or quirky gestures. Although, real MB makes gestures too. Dangit.

And music. We all know music is my soul. And in high school that was choir.

I was asked what my favorite song was. And i wanted to choose something hip. Something edgy. But really, all I can think of is a choir piece.

Nerd alert!

This piece is written for men. It's Franz Beibel's arrangement of "Ave Maria" and I've never in my life heard anything more beautiful produced by the human voice. When I listen to this piece, I lay on the floor. I soak in the exquisite harmonies and the so-beautiful-they're-painful dissonances. Chills creep over me and my heart speeds up. When the "Amen"s begin at the end of the piece I feel like my heart could burst out of my chest, slowly at first, but then building in a crescendo of sound that topples me over the edge.

Phew. Almost makes me blush to read that. But that's this piece for me. It's an almost tangible experience. Take a listen. Please.

Enjoy.

And you're welcome for the tingles.

Hearts are not Hot Wheels

My friend led me to this song, and I am so grateful to her for it.

One, it's beautiful.

Two, it's a reminder that I have to be careful with my heart. She really wants to be captured, but sometimes she wants it so badly that she could let a man capture it who would use it up and then release it.

You know (and ladies, please feel free to chime in with an amen), I don't put my heart out to be caught and released. My heart is not part of the wildlife tagging program. I don't want a man to tag me, put me back out there, keep me on his radar, and pick me back up every three months for a check-up.

No girl does.

Pardon my phrasing, but if a lady is out there to hit it and quit it, ain't no way a man is seeing even a sliver of her heart. Hell no.

Right girls?

If my heart is out there to be caught, it better be for keeps. I'm not saying marriage. That's a lot. But she wants to be caught, kept, and learned until she's been tamed (and bravo to the man who does that-it'll take someone strong). Or until it's clear that's not who's meant to keep her.

Pardon me while I continue for a bit longer--we had an early release day, so I have extra time on my hands.

I know how good it feels to win someone's heart for the sake of winning it and NOT for the sake of keeping it. I felt wanted. I felt desired. I felt strong and powerful. And I'm not proud to admit it, but I used him.

It wasn't until years later that I realized just how wrong of me that was. That it's one thing to test the waters to see if he's a good fit. But it's another thing to know he's not one I truly want yet still flirt, cajole, whisper, and kiss (yes kiss).

I used him to pass my time.

He got hurt. Really hurt.

I'd like to say that I was able to apologize to him when I realized how badly I'd treated his heart. But, you see, I couldn't because we weren't friends anymore. He intentionally disappeared from me so I wouldn't hurt him anymore.

I still can't find him.

Why do I tell you all this, gentle readers? Well, boys and girls, it's partly because that's what I do here and partly because I hope this resonates with you in some way. We've all had our hearts touched by others and touched hearts ourselves. Some of our hearts have been mishandled. And some of us have handled the hearts of others poorly. Maybe, like me, you didn't know. I didn't think I was hurting his heart. We were having fun! He was smiling, happy, enjoying it!

I should have seen it. I wish I had.

He was too open with me. Too honest with me. Too available at all hours, too willing to drop his plans for mine, and too willing to share the deepest thoughts in his head. That wasn't just "for fun" folks. That's a boy who wanted me to keep his heart safe.

And I didn't.

He wanted me to treat it like a brand new dream car: maintained, polished, understood, and driven at maximum speed.

Instead I treated it like a Hot Wheel: fun, cute, and easy to toss aside while I played with my others.

My heart is not a Hot Wheel to be played with. Sure, she's fun, but she's fun because she's a sweet ride with all the bells and whistles. She's got some miles on her, but she's got a lot more to go.

--

In honor of that, this song (remember me mentioning a song at the beginning of the post? No? Well, it was a long time ago) perfectly illustrates what I'm talking about.

For those of you who like to play with Hot Wheels, please, please, please think about what you're doing. And for those of you who have been used, please, please, please know that your heart is precious and lovely and deserves to be loved. You're not disposable. You're lovely.

It's rap, not crap . . .

Ok. Here it is. I'm putting myself out there. Ready?

I love rap.

Phew! There, I said it. I feel better!

You may laugh or shake your head, but those who first meet me would never assume that I love rap. That I could listen to Eminem for hours because the intensity of his voice is incredible. That I get goosebumps when I hear a sick hook on a Chris Brown song [And yes, I said sick hook. Deal with it.]. That I listen to Missy at least once a day.

Things I love about rap:
1. Beats, beats, and beats. Oh, and also beats.
2. The human voice. Rap is music, people, seriously. These artists are amazing with their flow. Eminem's intensity. Luda's deep timbre [Ha, look at me use a word like timbre when talking about rap!]. Missy's screech.
3. The rhymes. I'm a poetry junkie. Music that is sung is beautiful. I love it. I love singing it. But rap allows freedom, flow, and the use of words and rhyme in a way that a melody doesn't.

What's hard about liking rap?
1. The content.

I'm a lady who loves Jesus. And, you know, I can enjoy the way Luda's voice sounds and the beats he has produced all I want, but that's not going to take all the sex out of his lyrics.

I'm not preaching, ok? I'm just talking about myself. And I know that for me, listening to "Work It" by Missy Elliot makes me want to dance, but it also makes me want a lot of things I can't have yet. And I've lived in the world. I've been places that have not honored Christ. I can't listen to this music and claim ignorance of what she's talking about. I know exactly what she's getting at all too well.

Ok, so take all that. And put it with this:

I once heard a radio commentator say that the Christian version of things should just put a "C" in front of them, so you can know it's Christian.

This would mean that Christian rap would be called Crap.

And at the time? I totally agreed with him. I thought, Christians can't make good rap? They're not hip enough. They don't understand culture. Their beats and hooks will always be behind.

Fast forward to now. There are artists who get it. They know what rap is. They don't shy away from it. They just make their content honor God. Love it.

If you like rap, take a listen to these. If you like Christ, take a listen to these. Expand your horizon. You might enjoy it.




Have you heard Lecrae before? He is a solid, solid man.




And you know, sometimes a Christian group doesn't have to have Jesus's name in every song. They can have fun too! My friend just got married, and this song was played at her reception. So fun! Oh, and they're called Grits not Gritz.




Another Lecrae. So true. I can play the background. Although [watch out, snide MB coming out here] for reals, what is up with C-Lite's outfit? The hat? Really?

-

And one last one for fun. I want a convertible so I can be ridin' with my top down, listenin' to this Jesus Muzik.







So. What do you think?

A slice of the past . . .

I love Christmas. I love making music. Doesn't it make sense to put the two together?

That's exactly what two friends and I did a few years ago, and--if I do say so myself--they turned out really well.

I love to listen to them and think of that special time. We recorded in the booth from 10-2 a.m. each night over a weekend , had dance parties, mixed and mastered, and finally had Christmas presents for our families (being poor college students, you know).

If you feel so inclined to take a listen, be my guest. I'm mostly putting these here so I have an easier way to access them whenever I'm in the Christmas Spirit!

"Veni, Veni, Emmanuel" by MB
"Holy, Holy, Holy" by SW and MB
"Little Drummer Boy" by SW

Head here if you'd like to treat your ears.

Enjoy if you listen! I'm doing so right now . . .

Not quite what I had in mind

I was going to make a very nice, long post, full of pictures, text, videos, and links. I was going to include all of the music that's been making my life fun lately. I was going to do a lot of things in this post.

That is, until a rogue finger of mine accidentally deleted all of the hard word I'd done. About thirty minutes of compiling, to be honest. It was rather annoying, and let's say a few choice words almost slipped out of my mouth.

Now, instead of a sophisticated and thoughtful post, I'm simply going to leave you with a list of songs, some as links and some embedded as videos. Please enjoy.

1. "The Cave" by Mumford and Sons



I don't have time to give you the lyrics again, sadly, but seriously, they have helped me. A great song for someone alone who needs to find his/her identity after a long time of being without it. That's me.

2. "One on One" by The Bird and the Bee

Also working for this particular song is the fact that it's a cover of a Hall and Oats classic. Either way, it screams sexy to me. Love it. It's also fair here to give you another song by The Bird and the Bee that's been helping me out lately, so here you go. This one's called "How Deep Is Your Love" and it's also a cover. This time it's the Bee Gees.



3. "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger" by Daft Punk



This song is super fun. As is this video. It makes me want to dance. And I enjoy the lyrics as well. At least, what there is of them.

4. "My Love" by Sia

A ridiculously heartbreakingly honest song. The lyrics are happy, but the song sounds sad, adding a dimension which I simply cannot get out of my head. The song also happens to be from the Twilight: Eclipse soundtrack, which is fine. I happen to like the soundtrack, if not the movie. Here are some others from the soundtrack that I enjoy:

"Neutron Star Collision" by MUSE
"Heavy in You Arms" by Florence + the Machine
"Let's Get Lost" by Beck and Bat For Lashes
"What Part of Forever" by Cee Le Green
"Life on Earth" by Band of Horses"





5. "Home" by The Engineers



This is actually the opening credits for a show called Big Love but the official video can be found here. I love the sound of this song, and I'll admit, paired with these opening credits it seems poignant and heartbreaking. That's a word I seem to be using a lot lately.

6. "Commuter Love" by The Divine Comedy

I really enjoy this song. It feels otherworldly to me. As if I'm sitting in an old Truffaut movie. In fact, I believe that the song actually references the fact that the woman in it reads pretentious novels by French authors. How fitting. Either way, I want to be that pretentious woman. I think I'm on my way, considering the fact that I just dropped the name Truffaut into a blog post and I doubt that much of my readership will know (or care) who he is.



7. "Two Weeks" by Grizzly Bear



The official video is here, and it's a doozy. But I happen to like the video I posted above. It's cute, quirky, and a little subversive. Not that subversive is super great, but you know. Gotta do it sometimes.

8. "Elevator Love Letters" by Stars

Simply put, not much is cuter than this song. Well, perhaps this video about a shell called Marcel, but that's about it in my opinion.

9. "Lose Control" by Missy Elliot



The hook on this song is sick, seriously. I cannot stop myself from moving when I hear this.

10. "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles



You owe it to yourself to take a listen to this woman. If you are female in any respect, you will be moved by her lyrics and her performance. It speaks to my heart because of her honesty and the, say is with me, heartbreaking nature of the song.

Well, you got more than I anticipated you would. You lucky people.

I'm going to go to bed to one of these songs. Chances are it's not Missy Elliot.

Close Call

I was musing to myself earlier today how quickly I seem to have recovered from a hard break-up.

Well, duh, life has a cruel sense of humor, so of course I had a sudden resurgence of anger.

And then God was like, "Mary Beth, here's a present for you. You like this song and now Youtube is going to recommend that you listen to it again."

And I did. Get over it. Thank you Pet Shop Boys. Thank you Youtube. Thanks Big Man.



In other news, I am so excited for Inception that I can barely contain it. I'm seeing it tomorrow at 6:45 and counting down the hours!

New Review Up!

Check out my new review for Twilight: Eclipse here.

Also, I'll admit it. Though the movie is overwrought and very ridiculous in many ways, I still love the soundtrack. Especially because Florence + The Machine is included. Please, please, take a listen to her. And a watch.

"Heavy in Your Arms" 



"Cosmic Love"



I love this woman's voice and the power she puts into her music. She is well worth a listen or two. Or three thousand.

Holding On To Worship

Yes, it is 4:30 in the morning. Yes, I am awake. But I am awake because an evening nap ended up becoming my "sleep" for the night, so now my body is ready to start the day. Moving on.

I rediscovered a worship song that I used to listen to incessantly. It's called Rescue, and it's by a worship band called The Desperation Band. I loved it for many reasons at the time, but I'm loving it for new reasons now. I love the way a worship song or a passage from God's Word can speak to my life in multiple seasons.

I'm apprehensive about moving for multiple reasons (and don't worry, this is not a random leap to a different subject. It will tie in . . .). I don't know anyone in this small town. I will be one of three people my age, so friendships will look much different. I'll have many older women trying to set me up with men in the town. I'll be a first year teacher for kids who have all been in the same class since they were in diapers. Take your pick.

But another apprehension is finding a church. I know that I need to throw in with people and really commit to a church while I'm in Ashland, but I'm nervous about it. I grew up in a church that is very similar to what I might find in Ashland. But while in college I found that my heart really responded and grew in a church that focused on small group ministry, real-life application, and a worship band.

Now, growing up, I will admit it, I scoffed at Christian music. Granted, at the time, contemporary Christian looked much different than it does now, but I still look back on my attitude about it and shake my head. Worship music was for super Jesus freaks who played boring and unoriginal music, always in the keys of E, G, D, or C and always with the same chord progressions.

Then I came to what would become my home church here in Wichita and saw that there was a band on the stage. No organ to be seen. There was a piano, but no one was playing it at the time. And I prepared myself for some corny, unoriginal music. And then they started playing Switchfoot's "This is Your Life," which I had never heard before and was captivated by. This was Christian music?! Seriously? I loved it. And I realized that worshiping the King could be more than a choir with an organ, and it could satisfy my love of "good" music--a relative term, to be sure.

And I began to grow in my appreciation of it. My voice and my love of using it finally found an outlet. I learned how to translate reading piano music into reading chords, figuring out how to comp and fill. I figured out how to add violin lines to songs and improvise. I threw my heart into worship. I played in many places with many different people and fell in love every time.

I became a woman who lost herself in the music. Me! A girl who used to be plagued by stage fright in high school--though that never stopped me from performing. I grew as a musician, as a leader, as a lover of Christ, and in my understanding of Him.

I feel like the last six months saw a growth in my appreciation and understanding of what it means to lead worship that I could never have foreseen. Part of it was being led well by men who really strive to understand the heart of worship. Part of it was letting go of the last of my hangups about sounding "pretty" while onstage. Part of it was God sucking me deeper into relationship with Him. I began leading songs without inhibition.

Perhaps if you're not a performer you may not understand this next thought, but there are times when you play/sing and song and it goes well, but then there are times that who you are as a musician connects powerfully with a song and it goes places you never thought of. Well, that started happening when I would sing. I lost myself in songs like "Revelation Song" by Kari Jobe and "Praise the Lord" by Kristene Mueller.

On a side note, this song has walked me through a lot recently.



And now I'm going somewhere where this kind of worship doesn't exist. I'm scared that I'll lose it somehow (which is ridiculous, of course) or that I won't be able to start it (which is a real possibility).

One of the things I already miss most about my college ministry is the worship team. So much talent, so much love for Christ, and such a thirst to discover new things and really engage peoples' hearts in worship. And I'm going to miss playing worship for my church as well. One of the things I pray for is that God would lead me to people or a place where I can worship Him in this way.

But at least I can thank Him for the internet and the ability to find new worship music and worship on my own until He shows me what's in store.

Santigold

Searching for music has never been so much fun! A friend of mine recommended a site instead of Pandora. Not that there's anything wrong with Pandora, but this site allows me more control, and I like its radio choices better. It's called Grooveshark. Check it out.

That being said, I've found an artist called Santigold. I'm slowly falling more and more in love with her music. She's been compared with M.I.A. and the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, so it's no surprise that I'm liking her.

I've decided to share some of it with you. I'm going to give you her first two singles. These came out in 2007, so I feel behind the times!

First song, "L.E.S. Artistes." Perhaps more palatable for those of you who might not like stranger-sounding things. Although the video is out there.



Sorry for the paint and sand violence!

Now, for those of you who do like stranger things (like me), then this is the song for you. "Creator."



Here's where you can hear the comparison to M.I.A.

And by the way, if you're listening to this song where others are present and you get weird looks, I'm sorry! Until I find someone who will like it with me this song is relegated to my blast-when-I'm-alone-in-the-house playlist. It might have to be in yours too. Unless you want to share your love of it with me. And then we can have a dance party together.

Grizzly Bear

Ok, so remember how I was going to find new music?

You know it's a problem when even Pandora can't find new music for you. I hear a new song come up and I get all excited to hear something fresh and unusual and . . . . I've heard this song or this artist before.

If I'm really fair, I don't think it's Pandora's fault that my music keeps going in circles. I actually think that Pandora is trying to send me secret messages that my musical tastes are so similar and restricted that even the Music-Genome Project can't find anything new for me.

Luckily, one of my favorite bloggers, Heather Armstrong, occasionally posts music on her blog, so this song really caught my eye (maybe ear, I mean?) when I watched the video about six months ago.

And this is a fan video, by the way, not the official video. If you want the official version, go here. And content of this fan video aside, I love the animation and the cleverness of it.

I've decided that Grizzly Bear will be my next station on Pandora.

Anyone have any suggestions for me?

Hello?

This thing on?

My Music Tool

For some reason I have a hard time finding new music. I think it's because I'm one of those people who finds a favorite and then just really loves that favorite.

You know, like my thing with pad Thai. Oh I am positive that Thai places have excellent food. I've watched many other people eat numerous dishes, tried bites, and loved them. But . . . but . . . if I don't order pad Thai then I won't get to enjoy my favorite taste combinations. A hint of lime, peanut, soft chewy noodles, a warm spiciness that radiates through me . . .

OK. Enough of that. Go to your corner, pad Thai, and stop distracting me.

So when it comes to music, unless someone else introduces me to new things, I tend to not look for them. Until recently, that is.

I realized that soon I'll have to take on the mantle of the "cultured, big city" girl and that people will be expecting me to know all sorts of cool, artsy things. Well, I've got movies covered, but that's just because of my ridiculous obsession. See, if I could just team up with someone who is as obsessive about music as I am about movies then it would work very nicely.

And I'll have just come from seeing Inception, the movie I am most looking forward to this summer. Check out the link over on the right for the official site and the trailer. You might think, Wow, this chick should be attending Comic-Con and dressing up at Harry Potter movies with all her geekiness (and hey, your thoughts aren't too far off, for if it weren't for funds and me being a chicken, both would have happened already). But if you are intrigued, do yourself a favor and go see that movie!

Dangit. Movies. You sneakers. Stop trying to squeeze music out of the picture!

Anyway, Pandora has been helpful for me recently, so I thought I'd share some of what I come across as I listen. Today I'll share with you an artist I use to find other artists because I love her sound so much. Her name is Sara Bareilles. And yes, I will warn you, this is a piano-playing, slightly angsty, woman who sings about lost love and finding herself. And whose music usually makes other girls cry while they eat a pint of ice cream and over-identify with the sad, sad lyrics.

Stop judging, people! I reserve the right to like my stereotypical woman-music!

Here's a link to my current favorite of hers.

I hope you enjoy her stylings. If you like that sort of thing, that is.

Shrimpy Wooden Taste

So, I decided to switch to shrimp ramen on a whim one day while shopping at the local grocery store. SW was all, "Gross, SHRIMP ramen has no taste anyway. You're going to hate it." And I told him to shut up and let me choose my OWN food dangit.

Poop. He was right.

AND I ate it this afternoon with my wooden chopsticks which, it turns out, happen to make all of my food taste like slightly soggy bamboo.

Also, I'm listening to this right now. I am positive this has been played at the spa I used to work at. I just KNOW I endured my esthetician squeezing all the nasty blackheads out of my nose like she's using a blowtorch on my skin to the lovely, relaxing stylings of this group.

Painful memories.