Civilization Is Going to Peak Tonight

I've been to some good concerts lately. Up until two weeks ago, I had declared the Pete Yorn show at Exit/In, the best I've seen. However, I think Pete may have been unseated last night by a $7 concert ticket. I am in awe. I went to the Nashville Sunday Night show featuring Josh Ritter prepared to be a little underwhelmed. Oh no. No, no, no, no...it was amazing.

Josh Ritter is a doll. When he sings, he closes his eyes and sings like he's blind - all weave-y and sincere. You know what I'm talking about. He's so personable, and you can tell that he's pretty much really really smart. His lyrics are insightful and funny and sad and so sweet that there was more than one time I found myself wishing someone had written that line about me. Here's an example; this is from the song "Kathleen":

All the other girls here are stars. You are the Northern Lights...Well they try and they try, but everything that they do is the ghost of a trace of a pale imitation of you.

I mean, who wouldn't want to hear that, right? But the most amazing thing about Josh Ritter wasn't even really about him. It was about the audience and the way that apparently everyone connected with him. If you live in Nashville and have ever been out into the music scene, then you know that Nashville's not always a friendly place to play music. Nashville is full of music snobs who go to shows to critique, not to enjoy. Standing up? Uh uh. Dancing? No way. Clapping? Trying that is like trying to clap at a Church of Christ, just see what happens when you try. Of course, that's not always the case, but live music tends to be a kind of somber event here, unfortunately.

But last night, last night was music perfection! He got the ENTIRE audience to stand and clap and dance for TWO songs and his finale was laced through with some of the funniest commentary I've ever heard. He promised us that civilization was going to peak, while he urged us to sing along on the chorus. The commentary was so good - it involved meeting the love of your life and talking about your hopes and dreams and then getting on a train. I know it sounds weird, and it really really was. But it was wonderful too. I think you may have had to been there to really get it - sorry. He wanted us to sing for the love of our life that's just around the corner, for the bliss of staying up all night and risking everything for love. Maybe it's my current "I want to believe in love" mood, but he made you believe it. It was just that kind of night. Just kind of magic.

Ode to My Mom

Although this isn't an ode. Technically an ode (according to the American Heritage Dictionary) is: "NOUN: 1. A lyric poem of some length, usually of a serious or meditative nature and having an elevated style and formal stanzaic structure." This is not a lyric poem and there's certainly no elevated style here, just two thoughts on why I have a great mom:

My Mom held me and cried with me on Friday because she knew my heart was broken.

This one earns top mothering marks, even though I'm not at the point to believe her or even care about this right now. She told me that I was too beautiful and too smart for there not to be a guy out there who was looking for his Allison.

Anyway, it was just what I needed. No judgment or anything else, just shared tears and comforting words. Thanks, Mom.

Dreams

I had a dream last night that I think is the result of the life changing events of yesterday. It's pretty interesting, and I'm trying to let it comfort me some.

I was back in the home I grew up in (who knows why), and I was moving some of these little stone critter things that I collected from the top of a shelf to, well, I don't know where. The important part was I was moving them. That and I kept dropping and breaking them.

They didn't shatter into a million pieces, they just cracked and if you pulled a little, parts of the stone would pull off and you could see a whole other layer of the animal - like their underpants and stuff. Don't ask me why they were wearing underpants, but they were. The only meaning I can come up with for this bizarre dream and the fact that I dropped like 5 of these animals and went through the same realization - that there was something there underneath the broken parts - is that the universe is trying to tell me something.

I haven't worked it all out yet - I think that's going to take a long time - but I think I was supposed to see that even the broken parts are there for a reason. They show you something new. They show you that it's not all gone, that there's something there under the surface. It's not the same as it was, and it's not as pretty but it's not ruined, broken or gone either.

I guess after you realize that, then you have to decide if you can handle that or not. Can you let go of what was to appreciate and love what is now - flaws, disappointments, hurt and all?

Voice Over Thought of the Day (Pretend I'm Dr. Meredith Grey)

I don't know why some people are destined to come into our lives and then leave. Maybe it has something to do with brain space and maximum capacity. If everyone we met and connected with stayed forever, then maybe our brains and hearts would be full by the time we were 16, and we would miss out on other, more important, people to come.

I'm sure you've all heard the saying about people coming into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. I'm not entirely sure what the difference between the reason and the season is, but there you have it. Human relationships from beginning to end explained by a pithy self-help statement.

But anyway, as the reason/season/lifetime seems to be the deal, it's something that everyone has to experience. The question is, how do you identify these people so you can let them help you with your needs, give to them in return, and ultimately let them go gracefully?

Let me know when you figure it out.

Flying Through the Air With the Greatest of (un)Ease

I jumped the other day.

Unfortunately, the ground seems to be approaching awfully fast. I guess there's still time for someone to throw out some pillows, but I'm pretty sure I'm just going to have to take the hard landing on this one.

I know I've done the right thing (ironically enough, I typed "wrong" first) by pushing things so that a decision has to be made, but that doesn't stop the fear and the "did I do the right thing?" questions floating around in my head. What if I shouldn't have jumped? What if I should have been more Zen and waited a bit longer to see where the flow would take me?

One of the hardest things to do in life is to let go of the rope, the hand, whatever, and move on - even when you know you might be saving yourself or someone else pain. Admitting defeat is not easy. Finding out you lost is hard.

As Coldplay says, "...the hardest part was letting go, not taking part." So I let go, even though I didn't want to. Even though I'm still hoping to be caught.

POSTSCRIPT - There was no easy landing on this one, but that's life right?

image from San Fransisco's Urban Diversion webiste

Jumpin'

RUBE: You like falling, do ya?

BETTY: Well, it's not the fallin'; it's the jumpin'.

RUBE: I'd feel a whole lot better about the jumpin' if it weren't for the fallin'.

BETTY: Fallin's easy - you just fall. Jumping involves strength of will.

RUBE: Unless you're on a plank.

BETTY: Then it isn't your choice. But if it is, it's the best feeling in the world.

RUBE: And you don't care where you land?

BETTY: Landing is a lot like fallin' - you just land.

(VO) If you've been putting off a jump, just putting it off, sometimes the subtle things are what make you take the plunge.

This is from a show that used to be on Showtime, "Dead Like Me." I really loved this episode. I saw it weeks ago, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I think it's a good, clear rumination (big word, go me!) on the whole action/consequence thing. You never can tell what consequences a certain action will have - aside from the big things, like you know, shooting someone or something like that - but you still have to be willing to put yourself out there.

The more I think about things lately, the more I think that you can never know 100% if ANYTHING you're doing is right. It all comes down to being brave enough to make a choice and take some action. Sure there's a possibility, maybe even a large possibility, that you'll get hurt. It's just what happens, you know? That's life. Sitting still, doing nothing may be safe, but you'll never get anywhere like that. And I think most people would feel better at least knowing they tried to do something different.

Here I Come

I'm having issues, but as soon as I get them sorted out, I'll be back in the blogosphere. Enjoy the bunny until I get everything sorted out.

Things I Learned Recently

Things I Learned Recently (since this has been a draft for over a month)

1. Cats can't taste sweets.
2. Fiddler crabs have tongues on their feet.

That's really it. I can't think of any of random factoids to clog your brain right now.

Specimens

Here’s something strange. I was listening to NPR a few weeks ago and heard an interview with Michael Cunningham, author of "The Hours" and "A Home at the End of the World." He was being interviewed about his new book. Intrigued by the plot, I decided to look for it on Barnes and Noble to see if I would like to add it to my "To Read" list (28 books and growing almost daily).

I knew the book was called Specimen…something. Luckily, his book, "Specimen Days," came back first. But, you know what came back 2nd? "Very Hungry Caterpillar." You’d know it if you saw it - long green caterpillar with red around the eyes. Very iconic. But, where is the specimen part? I'm mystified. This may require a trip to the bookstore for research.

And as an aside, no matter how many times you type it, look it up, read it, etc. caterpillar just doesn't look like it should be a word.

Regression

I'm a dork. Full blown dorky dork. I just finished reading not one, but two articles about the highly anticipated publishing of the next installment of Harry Potter. Sure, that's not too bad. But the fact that I had goosebumps in anticipation is.

C'mon July 16, 2005 at 12:01 am!

Things I Learned Today

For those of you who believe you should learn something new every day...Here's a listing of things that are now taking up valuable space in my brain.

1. You can rent plants. It's true. I saw a van at the office that said, well, "Plant Rentals."

2. English potato farmers don't like the term "Couch Potato."

3. Couch Potato is in the Oxford English Dictionary.

4. So is Homer Simpson's "D'Oh!" (I didn't learn that today, but thought I'd pass it on anyway.)

5. There are no cheap places to rent in Nashville unless you want to sleep with a stun gun under your pillow.

6. There was some other amusing factoid I learned, but guess what? I've forgotten it already.

These Are a Few (okay just one) of My Favorite Things

In an effort to be more optimistic and glass half full-ish, here's my favorite thing about my job. Unfortunately, it's not really about my job. It's about what I experience when I leave my job.

Now no one would call the area of town I work in nice. Even city planners hated it, apparently, and decided to discourage people being outside by leaving out the sidewalks. But that's a rant for another day. Today is all about warm and fuzzy ducks.

The office park area where I spend a good part of my life is crisscrossed with little waterways, aka ditches, home to little duckies. I don't know if it's from their nests, or if they are molting, but for the last few days the air has had little duckie down floating all through it as if it were snow. Being that I love snow, but hate the cold, I feel this is the perfect mix of fluffy white stuff and non-freezing conditions.

It's a simple pleasure, but it makes me insanely happy to drive through the snowstorm of tiny feathers.

Quack.

Excuses

I'm in the middle of a huge project at work. HUGE. And worrying about going over budget (although I wasn't given one) and that the people I've contracted with are going to disappear or just suck in general has drained my creative brain cells.

Probably because I'm having to use them to think of ways to creatively rephrase "Get me your copy" for 8 different authors 3 times a day. Then I have to think of equally creative ways to tell the head designer that I do not have said copy yet.

His cat's having surgery so he's running a little behind.

She wrote 20 extra pages so she's got a lot of editing to do.

There was a (pick one) flood/power outage/major media event and she just couldn't do it.

He had to take his disk to Kinko's and the computer ate it. The helpful Kinko's man then removed the disk with a screwdriver and handed it back to him in a plastic baggie.

She was traumatized when she was attacked first by a bag of okra and then a frozen turkey floating in the ocean.

The voices in his head that tell him what to write have gone on strike.

She doesn't know how to use a computer.

I'm glad it's a holiday weekend so everyone will have some time to come up with a new batch of excuses to serve up on Tuesday. I probably won't write anymore until then. See, I'm going to be trekking through Nepal and then possibly doing a guest appearance on the Late Show with David Letterman. That is if my surgery to remove my parasitic twin goes well. It shouldn't be a conflict unless my Doctor has to go play golf or go to Capitol Hill to speak on stem cell research. We'll see what happens I guess.

La La La I'm So Stupid

On average, how many stupid things do you do a day?

I do an average of 12.4.

My first stupid thing today was putting both contacts in the same eye. Don't ask me; I don't know what I was doing either.

Five stupid things involve me tripping on the carpet at work, and at least one stupid thing a day is related to me cutting corners too quickly and then running into said corners. Occasionally I hit my head when I bend over to pick things up. Rather too often, my hair gets caught in the car door when I close it. Several times, my chair has gone out from under me. The real joke was, no one pulled it.

The .4 comes from when I do stupid things that people don't see. Actually, that would be closer to 184.4, but who's counting?

My lower body is typically covered in bruises inflicted from the foot board of my bed and the corner of my desk. Now that I think about it, bruises are kind of like nature's tattoos - only less permanent. Each one shows your individuality and gives clues about what you like to do. I like to run into things apparently.

It's probably not a good thing that I am now forced to work with lots of sharp objects like scissors, exacto knives and box cutters. My 3rd day at my job I was sent home early after slicing my middle finger open. Papercuts abound here too.

I've had the thought many times before that I would be safest inside one of those padded rubber sumo suits, either that or a bubble.

You could call me Alli-san or Bubble Girl.

Frivolity

Here's a joke for you. Disclaimer: this is not my joke. I borrowed it from Reader's Digest. I wonder if that's enough attribution? Guess I'll know when I receive the "cease and desist" letter.

Q: Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella?
A: Fa drizzle.


HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHA!

Confessions of a Blog Slacker

George?

George, are you there? Please don't ignore me. Don't treat me like I treated you. I really missed you. Honest. I thought about you every day.

I tried to think of something interesting to say about my trip to McDonald's for a fruit and yogurt parfait. But really, what's there to say about it except YUMMO? I thought about doing the riff from Shrek about Ogres being more like onions than parfaits (even though they both have layers). I tried to come up with a humorous pseudo-law about the certainty of where oatmeal will land on a woman's shirt when dropped (right smack between the boobs as if creating a third nipple). It's just that nothing seemed good enough to type out.

But from the way you're shaking your head, I know you know that's not entirely the truth.

George, please forgive me. I've been bad. I have strayed from the blog to the immediate gratification of...gulp...email.

I know. I know. I have betrayed you and your vast blank pages. It just seemed so much easier to type out a quick email. It's so fast, so easy. I was seduced by the convenience.

But, you know, now that I think about it, maybe this isn't all my fault. Maybe you should think about your part in this. If you weren't so pristine and perfect and so eager for my words, maybe I wouldn't feel all this pressure to contribute and be funny. Maybe this is all your fault. Yeah, that's the ticket. You did this. You drove me into the convenient waiting arms of email.

But I'm willing to forgive you if you're willing to forgive me. Maybe we can start again without all the pressure. We'll just see what happens. We'll tell the blog police to get off our backs. We'll make this work. We can do it!

Sunday Drive

Important Note: This post is not roadkill free. You've been warned.

I decided to go for a nice Sunday drive yesterday. In order of encounter, I had to swerve to avoid:

Dead deer - one
Roadkill - unidentified, but likely just one
Vultures - several
Smashed wooden pallet - two
Big blue trash can on wheels - one
Styrofoam peanuts - millions
Ugly plastic lawn chairs - two

Not every strange thing I saw was actually on the road. There were some bizarre things on the side of the road too. Like a bicycle helmet in good condition (no head attached to it). A few feet down the road was a pair of jeans. I think I saw a sock too. This leads me to the disturbing conclusion that someone's riding down the interstate stripping as they go. If you're in Nashville, be on the lookout for an irresponsible half naked cyclist.

Believe It or Not!

For you fellow NPR addicts out there, I thought I would provide you with my own list of "This I Believe." For those of you who don't know, NPR is sponsoring a new series, based on an old series, where people take 3 minutes (!) to explain their core belief system. I thought about submitting something, but since my core belief deals with public bathrooms, I didn't think it would be quite what they were looking for.

I believe...

I believe...that you should never take the stall right next to someone else in an otherwise empty public bathroom.

I believe...that there is a conspiracy by the state of Tennessee to keep outsiders from knowing that it rains here more than it does in Seattle.

I believe...that I should win the lottery.

I believe...that work weeks should be 4 days and weekends 3.

I believe...that I am Queen of my own little land.

I believe...that love is almost impossibly hard even when it's good.

I believe...that forces are working against me.

I believe...that things don't always work out, and that might be an ok thing.

I believe...that everyone should be a little nicer. We all have to fight battles.

I believe...that I am Allison in Wonderland, especially when I take the time to see how wonderful this world is.

I believe...that every home needs something living in it - mold in the refrigerator or shower doesn't count.

I believe...that a bubble bath with a book and a glass of wine or cup of tea can cure most bad days.

I believe...you should listen to what I say.

(I am the Great and Powerful Oz)

Especially about the bathroom thing.

Trust me.

Red Light: A Romance in 3 Seconds

I'm having total blog withdrawal. I had to get my fix! Did you miss me as much as I missed you (said as though there are people hanging on my every post)? Thought I'd tell you, the nameless internet masses, about my totally fantastic morning.

I got checked out this morning. Total head turning, eyes staring, almost running into the car in front of him checked out! Ours was a fleeting love. He tore his eyes away from me, finished his left turn and was gone from my life forever. But don't cry for me Argentina, the truth is I didn't even know him. But he sure made my day! Ahh, the kindness of strangers...don't say it doesn't exist, even if it comes in the form of an ogle from the other side of a truck window.

New Toy

This blog is like a new favorite toy, and I just want to play with it all the time. Have forgotten previous favorite toys like the crosswords or the Oddly Enough news section on Yahoo. Instead go to site hourly to check on it and make sure it's still there. Believe me, it's not for any obnoxious, self-absorbed reason like rereading what I've written over and over and over again. What kind of person does that?

uncomfortable pause...and change of subject

I feel like the dog (or was it the abominable snowman?) from the Loony Toons cartoons: "And I will love him and squeeze him and call him George." Maybe that's what I should have called this blog. George. Instead it became the "Clutz Chronicles." I'm sure one day an entry will reflect the column's name, but for now I prefer to keep my dignity a little while longer. There's plenty of time for everyone to learn that I can't chew gum and walk at the same time.

Well, my lunch time is up. Time to put away my new toy for a little while.

Goodbye George. See you soon.