I Still Love Bacon.

We had a discussion with the Y kids about the recent spread and it was interesting to hear their perspective. Each kid had received second hand info from either their parents, teachers, or peers and I could not believe the massive amount of false information they received. They were terrified! Each kids thought they were next to choke all while calling it sPine flu (my giggles here). 

Me: You mean sWine flu? 

Y Kids: No, I mean sPine flu! 

Me: Right.

This made me wonder, do any of these people feeding children false information know that they have a better probability of getting in a car accident, or say shot? For several decades people have died of the flu and now all of the sudden we are worried about it? I'm not sure I get it.

Nonetheless, I refuse to be held hostage by the flu, or any form of it. I could die right now, or yesterday, or tomorrow. Maybe the flu, maybe lightning, who knows. Everyday we step out into the world we run the risk of being the victim of it. But, every moment spent outside of it and closed in, is a moment wasted. They say "Life is Short," I don't plan on wasting it inside and anxiety ridden; I have bigger pigs to fry. 

My final point: I get that this is serious, and I understand that awareness and practicing proper hygiene is grand, but settle yourselves America. We have AIDS, West Nile, Ebola...the flu is the flu, is the flu.   

ABC Family

I love a good teen movie almost as much as I love a good teen show. Lately, I have been using the excuse that I want to know "my kids and what their into," but seriously, I'm lying. I just LOVE awkward moments, ugly kids, and teenage conversation. I started watching The Secret Life of an American Teenager and I can't get enough. It is terrible, TERRIBLE television, but it is a train-wreck I just cannot take my eyes from. Dave painstakingly watches with me, huffing and puffing throughout the entire show. So now that the season is over, I have started to scope out my new cheesy, god-awful, embarrassing show. Unfortunately, my shitty-show standards are set rather high and nothing has caught my eye, until tonight. A MADE FOR TV MOVIE!!!!! Not only does it have an awful title, My Fake Fiance, but it also has Melissa Joan Hart and, wait for it,.......JOEY LAWRENCE! I'm half way through it now, and it has not disappointed. It sucks with wonderfully awkward acting and a stupid plot! Thank you ABC Family:) 

PS They have a show called Greek and their logo is a HUGE red keg cup. Is it just me or is that a tid-bit inappropriate?

This Much I know is True.

I'm reading It Sucked, and Then I Cried, by my favorite outside-family blogger, Heather Armstrong. Here is what I have learned:

A) I don't want to have kids for at least another decade or two. Actually, maybe never!

B) I have to stop trowing things at Dave immediately or I too will require hospitalization.

C) Heather and I are scared of the exact same things.

D) Every location has it's downside of living there. Although I am IN LOVE with Seattle, sometimes I do wish it wouldn't rain every second. After the 7th month, it stops being endearing and starts becoming God's evil way of punishing all the liberals who live here. Heather loves Utah, but it is packed with Mormons like sardines in a can. Babies, everywhere, holy underwear, and weird names...I understand the sacrifices we all make to live where we do. Look at the sacrifices we are making with a little more rain and some really interesting religious folk, that's worth something!

E) I need her to write more and more and MORE because she normalizes a lot of realities that women everywhere are dealing with. *I am putting  on my therapist hat now* She does a fantastic job of owning her feelings, her disappointment, and basking in the glory of being a wonderful mother, that her children can be proud of, by asking for help. I love the raw and sobering reality she discusses called, parenthood. Plus, she's really funny...

Anyway, I require you all to go out and purchase this book. I of course, like all of my good literary ideas, got this one from EP!  Read Dooce.com as well, you will wet your pants daily!

Trying it on for Size

As I near the end of my schooling, by near I mean one year left, I have found myself playing "house" with my soon-to-be title as therapist. Evey once and a while I find myself taking everyday concerns and complaints and analyzing them, weighing the options, then suggesting theoretical perspective. I am not sure if I am bothering people or have become overwhelming in regular conversation, but I think I love it. It came on suddenly and completely by surprise, I can talk therapist now!

Sweet Nostalgia

I'm one of those people that use music to catalog times in my life. Fro the past few years, I have left my radio dial on NPR, talk radio, or some other form of liberal talk radio. Every now and then I will go back to my roots and try out the FM dial and see what takes me back.

On the way home from school today, I made the switch, FM. I don't remember any of the saved buttons, so I just picked and it was country. Country music and I have had a long-standing relationship and it took me back as I drove from Olympia to Queen Anne. 

Boots, nachos, a Mom-made number that, of course, matched Mrs. Smith, the Goodwin's, and blisters on our toes made up our Thursday nights as a child. Our family would country line dance until all hours and to be honest, I cannot remember anything more fun. We learned every dance under the sun and made memories that will last my lifetime. Brooks and Dunn takes me back to Gerry Andels.

Ridin' shotgun in my dad's big red truck going to Eastern Washington. Driving the hour to Cle Elem with the country music blaring, windows down, and Garth drooling through the back window. George Straight takes me back to Elk Height Rd.

Horses, flannel, felt hats, spurs, Brian Dziedic, and clowns surrounding me at the Ellensburg Rodeo. Watching my parents hand-in-hand as we cheered on Grandma Ruby's horses that won the horse shows. Making fun of the matchy-matchy couples with fringe and ironed on decals. Reba McIntire takes me back to July in Ellenburg with corn on the cob.

She got her car first and it was not glamorous. Dani drove a white Ford Taurus, but no matter, it was our ticket to freedom. Both of us were jobless, relying on our parents for gas money. We never actually drove anywhere particular, but we would scrounge up change from her sofas and her brothers jeans and head out. We would put $1.50 in the tank and feel like we owned the streets. Tim McGraw takes me back to Dani's car and dating the Reynolds’s brothers.

It was 1999, the year I grew out of Mrs. Smith's clothes and we became friends again. With several bags of chips, many boxes of Milk Duds, and dozens of blankets in hand, we would drive down Highway 167 towards the corn fields of Auburn for a long night in front of the drive-in big screens. We were parked there every weekend that summer and that is where she started to like me again. We formed a friendship that year over Milk Duds and scratchy movie lines played over the radio. Deanna Carter's Strawberry Wine takes me back to discovering I really enjoyed this girl with whom I have spent my life with.

We were so sad, she and I. We lost our family, or dog, and now our home we grew up in. I drove Mrs. Smith back to school and we listened to a great song. It brought tears to our eyes and we held hands until I dropped her on the front step of Kappa Delta. She squeeze, I squeeze and she left. The Judds, Love Can Build a Bridge takes me back to the feeling of not being alone anymore. The understanding, that Mrs. Smith got it too. She knew what it was like and knew that things would never be the same. We were both going though something larger than life. The world stopped spinning for just a moment.

I had just left San Berna-ghetto and moved into the Long Beach house. I met this girl in my psych class and I only introduced myself to her because she had cute clothes on. Her name: Mallory. Fast friends, she was the quintessential California girl. She moved in and a second later we had music blasting tanned bodies, ate too many chips with salsa, and sat all day with Millie on the hammock. Gretchen Wilson takes me back to the fun times of California spending it with the sweetest girl I have ever met.

My relationship with Country music has been glorious. I love the intoxicating way that each song is a story and relatable. The genre itself, is so embracing. It includes musicians across the board from pop, to rap, to rock. It has no boundaries and it excludes no one. They have little drug abuse and minor family drama. They write honest and strong songs about their families, friends, women, and beer. Hey, I even heard them advertising to give away Britney tickets and rodeo tickets within 5 minutes of each other! Can you say welcoming? There are critics far and wide that detest Country music (Annie) but I just love the way it tells my story.