Tuesday, March 31, 2009

American Idol Ignites the Itch

Teachers love summer, and believe me, I am counting down days as they roll by slowly. Working this summer, I am a bit concerned about where I will schedule in the Offensive and Defensive MVPs of America-voting-reality-talent shows -- So You Think You Can Dance and Big Brother respectively! While one does not find himself (herself, I must add for Ms. Steinem who I saw live and in person Thursday, but that's another post) frequently dialing after a Big Brother episode as we have no power over who stays and goes, the lure of So You Think You Can Dance drives me through summer nights as Tom Brady led the Patriots downfield in his hayday. Thus, the offensive MVP.

Big Brother, on the other hand, with its arguing, backstabbing, manipulation, lies, and coined phrases such as "under the bus" and "it is what is it," defends CBS several nights a week successfully from my partaking in other, higher quality television experiences. Yet, I love it.

I do. I love both--no shame included.

The world of sports, a sort of playground of emotion, is a clear portrayal of passion and endurance of spirit, love and comradery, loyalty to self and team and mission, anger and disappointment in loss.
It's this world I have grown up in as a child. It's this world that shaped me.
Secretly, though, and in the comfort, privacy, and safety in the vulnerability of my own home, I want to be of the galaxy spinning with worlds of song and dance. Here lies magic--magic shown through the effervescent emotion the dancers and dances of So You Think You Can Dance (SYTYCD) shine with every summer. Sports portray emotion; dance done well generously gives it to one's soul.

Watching American Idol contestants come into their own this season, I find myself itching for SYTYCD. Whether with the hip hop genius and strength of Joshua or the poetic movement of Katee, these dancers take my soul on an escape with the programmed motions they make appear so instinctual.

Thinking about my favorite season, my favorite dancers, dance, choreographers, I have difficulty limiting myself to just one to lure you in with here, so what I'll post below is one of my favorites, and one that reminds me to feel life fully. Chelsea and Mark were top 14 and danced this "Bleeding Love" number to a choreographed hip hop routine by Napoleon and Tabitha, two top programmers behind what these dancers make the natural.


Turns out, I have more than one favorite. Check out these links to other darlings of dance that inspire turns, twists, leaps, and sways throughout the hallways of my home.
Travis and Benji hip-hop it up.
Kherington and Twitch perfect a Mia Michaels' stud.
Katee and Joshua contempory.
Neil and Lauren (This guy can add some character.)
One more time for Neil.

Could I add more? Absolutely. Will I go through and re-watch the dances I just posted? Without a doubt.
Now please excuse me, I am off to convince my husband to work on lifts.

American Idol Action


And we're live!

Thoughts of an American Idol Viewer:

7:08ish Randy Jackson notes not the song for Anoop? Hmmm. I thought he rocked it.
And Simon "A complete and utter mess...gave me a headache." You know, I don't think he did that poorly.
He's not my favorite, but it was entertaining after all. I don't understand the whims of an American Idol judge, or will I venture to say of producers nudging their commentary? They ask him to give some showmanship, and the guy went for it. Commercial--let's rewind and check it out again. After watching a bit again, I am thinking--he's not Usher, and I don't feel that he tried to be. He did the song well in his own way. It wasn't worth the bashing.

We'll see what happens with the rest of the show.

7:17 Megan Joy (spelling?) Now this is not entertaining. We saw what happened with the last long haired fella who sang Bob Marley AND this girl sounds like the crooning blond from last season who simply tanked.
Next. I do not care to discuss the judge's comments at all. They are dead on.

Break--ok, Apple is there an app that feeds me while I attempt to keep up with American Idol, blog, eat my pork loin, and be a semi-decent conversationalist with my husband?

Question inside my head that I don't want to ask out loud, "Is pork red meat?" I am thinking, no, it's "the other white meat," but what qualifies it as such?

7:27 Danny will knock this out!

7:30 Confirmed.
I question where he could go upon winning though. Taylor Hicks ring a bell? I love his voice, but I wonder if he's got the pop star factor to take him to the next level.

7:33 Allison with "Don't Speak"--This girl's got a great voice--Kelly Clarkson-esque. I don't feel that his was all that entertaining of a performance, but I'm guessing the judges will adore her.

7:35 Well, well, Randy might prove me wrong. Nope, he's discussing wardrobe. Come on--that's Paula's role.

Missed the time- In the real world, kitchens demand cleaning.
Scott taking on Billy Joel. His work is cut out for him from my perspective. I just saw that legendary Piano Man on stage with Elton John in a phenomenal display of the showmanship only those two can give.

Scott's doing a good job. I don't think he sounds at all like Joel but does sound quite nice. The judges will surely praise his vocals.

Commercial break and checking Facebook. A friend posted a link to healthy chocolate chip cookies. I'm doubtful but will be trying this weekend and posting the results and recipe.

7:53 I enjoy Matt. Hopefully he shines tonight. I'm not a huge Fray fan, but I think he can knock this out. He's a less pompous J.T. in my opinion. How to make a Fray song pleasing to my ears? Throw some Matt G on it! I adore the raspy take on this hit and his high pitched spin on the end.
A beauty.

Wow, Paula bashes the voice I loved. "Not a good commercial song"--I will give you that one, but this criticism is beyond me.
He made his J.T. voice work for The Fray--why box him in judges?
"You'll have to commit?" Seriously? Can't he rock out any genre you throw at him? I don't see a problem with that.
Apparently my musical ear and individual taste appear NOT to qualify me to judge music.

8:00 Lil
Next.
(Ok, girlie, you have pipes.) Thank you judges for pointing out her dullness.
What a cute kid! How tired she must be. I thought her intentions were to punch him; now she's falling asleep on his shoulder?

Now I know why I watch most television minus commercials. I hate waiting. When did I become so impatient. Particularly for shows like American Idol that I could indeed miss and my world would continue turning, I seek to plunge through it as quickly as possible.

8:09 Adam's up. He's a freak, but an adorable one at that. Wild Cherry and Funky Music? Go for it kid!
Husband chimes in, "This kid's pretty good."
Interesting. I thought he would have tore him up. He did note that it's pretty cheesy.
Agreed.
Adam, hon, you are a rock star! I'd have your children if they received vocal genes from you. Problem is that I'm a bit married and I'm thinking genetics don't necessarily work that way.
He's amazing! I just might vote tonight.

Whoa, Paula, whoa! Jagger, Tyler, and Lambert?
Let's hold that comparison until he wins, or comes in a close second after votefortheworst.com attempts to dethrone him from the kingdom of followers he's creating, the judges save him, and they try again. Furthermore, considering he does win, the question then becomes, can today's music scene produce legends like leads of The Rolling Stone and Aerosmith? Questionable. I'm not ready to buy this quite yet.

One more--great! I'm about done for the night.
8:18 Kris hasn't impressed me, and he better bring the SOUL to get me this week.
To sing this song you've got to bring it from the deepest pits of your inner being with a yearning almost unspeakable, almost un-singable.
Did he do it for me? It was good. Kid's melting young hearts all over. It was beautiful.

Husband peeps in again, "Why does she always have to count how many words she will use?" I'm guessing she has to prove that she can count after last week's counting challenge.

Should I jump off this computer and pick up the phone, I'd spend some time attempting to connect for Matt for a couple of reasons, one being I enjoyed his performance and the other for spite. I might even send in one for Adam and one for Kris and one for Danny. The boys are tearing it up this season; it's time to send the boring ladies packing.
Am I voting though, nah. I'm saving my dialing digits for reality shows to come.

Good Night!

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Mad, Madder, Maddest in March







OR





Weekend 2 of March Madness rolls around, and while it's been my best showing in years, my final four was still in trouble. What were you thinking CC (that's me if you haven't read the other blogs yet--Cajun Cowgirl)? Purdue beating Connecticut? What kind of far-fetched pick is that? Turns out, they are one of two No. 1 ranked teams that did not fulfill the prophecies set before them. Unfortunately for me, I hadn't predicted this.

Lacking in knowledge of past tournaments despite filling out a bracket for the last 7, I feel that this year held so many Elite Eight upsets. You can call it madness, Dicky V, or you can call it magic. What amazes me this year in particular is the unpredictability of it all. Therein lies the madness.

We don't like this very much do we? Some committee deems a team worthy of a No. 1 seed, and we trust your judgment and expect that their performance will follow suit. Why would Villanova pull it out in a nail-biter against Pittsburg? Shouldn't Pitt be so sound a team as to coast over a 3 seed in order not to destroy my bracket. Come on, Pitt, were we in your minds at all?

However, "my heart leaps up," not beholding such rainbows in the sky, but beholding my adopted-via-great-friends Sparties taking it to No 1 seed Louisville. This year I understand that "March Madness" is clever sportswriter speak for The Paradox that is the Love of Ranking and Following NCAA Basketball Teams Compete for the National Championship. Madness = wrath at teams predicted to do play well and advance, so you choose them and they lose. Madness = elation of an upset in spite of your bracket choices.

At the end of the day, the end of this tournament weekend, I have the opportunity to cheer on two favorites Saturday for two different reasons. Michigan State's Sparties have a spot in my heart. North Carolina Tarheels have a spot on my bracket. In fact, the only spot of potential accuracy of bracket picks remaining to be highlighted instead of Xed out. But what do I know? I'm still in this thing. First time ever? Maybe. I'm not so sports savvy as they boys to remember these occurrences, but maybe that's why I get excited and involved each year and watch as the whims of the tournaments winds will whirl their workings as they wish.

And my husband's bracket? Let's just say of the two of us, madder in March fits him nicely.


Saturday, March 28, 2009

Vegetables...Vegetables... and a Prize Winning Book Title


At a conference during my days at LA Tech, some friends and I found ourselves with some extra time at the hotel, and it was at that moment that my eyes were opened to The Vegetable Game. Completely sober I must say, we gathered in a circle to learn the intricate details of the game: wrap your lips around your teeth as if you were talking like an older person who left their dentures by the bathroom sink, choose a catchy vegetable name, and proceed to call each other out to the tune of "Carrots, carrots, calling all squash." Whoever deemed himself or herself squash then responds immediately with something like "Squash, squash, calling all asparagus tips."
Before beginning you must first, after thoughtful consideration of course, designate your vegetable nomenclature.

And it begins. We go around the circle. Corn--taken. Potato--taken. Carrots--taken. The round is approaching, and I am a bit nervous as I cannot make decisions. My dear friend Mary is standing next to me and calls herself Broccoli. Keep in mind, this ball of laughs is going down with no chemical enhancement. Determined to pick a great vegetable yet worried about the lack of time to prepare for such a choice, I shout out, "Cheese!"

Cheese? Seriously CC?

My friends erupted into fits of laughter and to this day I cannot hear broccoli without wanting to curl my lips around my teeth and shout out, "Cheese!" simply to laugh at myself.

What does this have to do with books? Apparently my love of cheese trumped my love of vegetables in a type of Foodie Freudian slip in Shreveport, LA.
Would my love of a good title override my best judgment in choosing a good read, even one touting promise of profound statements on the world of cheese?
Probably not.
I'm pretty confident in my discriminate judgments while perusing the shelves of my local half price book store or cruising Amazon's library. My pile of books to be read is tall enough that I don't even make this shopping trip, virtual or real, very often. Somehow, the stack's height doesn't change. Perhaps I buy more books than I think. What I do know is that I choose my purchases primarily based on friend suggestions and occasionally on media hype. I selected my current read, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, not based on Oprah's pick, but upon reading its acclaim in the Sunday paper's all-things-art-related insert. Actually, I discovered it pre-Oprah and was quite upset when she named it her book club read.



From wherever the birth of the phrase "once in a blue moon" stems, so does my rare instance of browsing through the shelves and actually selecting and purchasing a literary escape because of its name, even after reading the back cover. In fact, thinking about the last two years' worth of reading, I cannot find a title chosen this way. At the very least, the cover's font and imagery might draw me in, but title alone--hasn't cut it.

Despite my book-buying habits, choosing a book title may or may not sell your work, but if nothing else, it win a unique award.

Philip M. Parker rose to the challenge in winning 2008's oddest book title, a contest with its origins at the Frankfurt Book Fair in 1978. I will not be purchasing this winning "gem" for two reasons: A)It costs a whopping $795.00 (in paperback!)
This stands correct. I did not misplace the decimal.
B) A girl loves her cheese, but seriously, I don't even know how many pages, AKA hours of my free time, this read entails and am not willing to dedicate the time, even if I could afford it, to a book I know nothing about.

Parker 's The 2009-2014 World Outlook for 60-milligram Containers of Fromage Frais it is!
Fromage Frais, French for "fresh cheese"--Will it be an extended metaphor for an examination of our global economy? Does the story follow a small-town French cheesemaker along the gripping journey of the cheese business? Is there a cartoon mouse involved? Save your paychecks kids, and let me know.

A personal favorite of the group of runners-up including titles such as Baboon Metaphysics and Curbside Consultation of the Colon, Strip and Knit with Style yells "Winner, winner, chicken dinner!" Before reviewing its Amazon.com listing, I can't help but ponder the possibilities for such a title and would certainly find a book providing a how-to guide for both "hobbies" inside the same cover quite humorous. Oh, don't chastise me for going there. You know you jumped into the gutter as well. No, no, my friends, this is about sewing.

Cheese, baboons, consulting with a colon (organ not punctuation mark), stripping and knitting might sure raise an eyebrow, yet are they intriguing enough for my purchasing? Hardly. And an that cost--negative Ghost Rider, the shelf is full.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Dear Adorable Friend of Mine I Met Through Our Common Interests in ___Insert Hobby Here___, I...


...forgot to check a stinking website I signed up for costing 20 bucks a year, and now it's sending you messages of my parting from this dear Earth.

Seriously Deathhacker? You are asking me to plan ahead AND spend my hard earned dollars in these tough economic times (anyone catch Obama's live town hall?) to let those dear souls I've met on discussion boards and mailing lists know when I'm, in the words of the soon to be incarcerated T.I., "Dead and Gone?"

Questions rapidly inundate my mind. Do I even belong to a discussion board? What mailing list should I subscribe to? Am I missing a wealth of Internet information that my earthly peers are advancing one step ahead because they are members of gaming guilds? Do I want people I don't know to know that I'm dead. What's wrong with me that I don't belong to enough virtual communities to even be missed? Most importantly, why am I thinking about death in the sense of an unreal world?

I, for one, don't typically enjoy thinking about death in terms of the tangible world I can get a hold of--friends, family, jobs, not fulfilling dream of working for Hallmark and visiting Tintern Abbey, unattained Old Navy dresses (kidding). Christians believe these are fleeting and unconsequential anyway, so why would I want to spend such time and energy worrying about floating through the air in millions of tiny pieces to someone I will never encounter in real life? Reminds me of Mike Teevee's request on Wonka: "Look at me, I'm going to be the first person in the world to be sent by television!"


Deathhacker makes me laugh and at the same time shed a tear for the poor souls subscribing. I am not knocking the online community; come on, I'm so desperately trying to be a part with this blog.
But let's all focus on living--breathe in the air; tell your family you love them; spice up an afternoon with your significant other; pour your heart into the life of a child; read a book; call an old friend; heck, start a blog.

Cheers to you Deathhacker. If Heaven has a virtual community, see you on the other side.


Sale Alert




If you know me, and those of your currently reading this blog REALLY know me as I have yet to hit my Internet debut, you know that I arrived late to the party that is the fashion world. I hated dresses as a child. Little seventh grade Sirena states it best. The trip to Dillards with Mom as a child terrorized the Saturdays I thought should be spent playing tackle football with the boys of Summerfield subdivision. Regardless, there were puffed sleeves and white lace pantyhose to be had, and well, Jewels hooked it up so I had them.

Little Cajun Cowgirl (CC) floated through the years in South LA donning frilly pieces when called upon. After all, I was voted "Most Dependable" in high school. Fighting hard throughout the primping and always caving in the end, I found myself a princess on Sundays and other such special occasions. What can I say--well, for one, I know I can't say no.

Although I found myself more interested in what G.I. Joe armory would protect my overgrown Barbie house in the younger years, somewhere along the road as a high school and then college student, I suddenly discovered that I had no fashion sense. I did my best to get by, but until recently I felt hopeless in my attempts to embrace the latest trends or even peg myself as a master of the classic look.

Perhaps the boy scene changed my perspective, or perhaps I decided that the lyrics to "New Orleans Ladies" called for just that. No way my mother would have guessed I'd be blogging about dresses in my late twenties. At the end of the day, I find myself drawn to classy, last through the trends pieces. They suit my practical side of shopping, and if I can find semi-trendy, yet classy outfits that deceive me into feeling like a Hollywood hottie, even better. I'll peek into Nordstrom, Juicy, SAKS, and their friendly counterparts, but if I can grab something cute at a bargain, I'm the style winner every day of the week.

Check out these Old Navy summer greats. Teachers live for summers off, but this year I am teaching on the Rice campus and need professional clothes that will offer the coolness factor as relief from Houston heat. A few of these will require a sweater or perhaps lightweight shrug (how about that one you fashionistas!), but especially for such a great price, they'll transform the campus sidewalk to a style-setting catwalk.




Thursday, March 26, 2009

Kitchen Success with a Kick



When your husband walks in from his first taste of NCAA basketball viewing for the night (yes, my friends, tonight is a deal buster for most of us bracket babes and boys) and yells, "Whatever you're cooking smells awesome" and even throws in a Rachael Ray "Delish!" a wanna-be kitchen diva can't help but feel like a bad@$$ in an apron.

Tonight I introduced myself to Ezra Pound Cake's Grilled Spicy Chicken with Black Bean Salsa, and it was sure nice to meet it!
I always take much longer than the suggested preparation time and cook time, especially with the first attempt at a new dish; however, none were listed for this particular recipe anyway. The entire process took about 45 minutes, but again, I can be slow.

Originally tagged for its weeknight feasibility, healthy ingredients, and its kicked-up take on chicken, this dish satisfies all expectations and perhaps with some lagniappe (Cajun French for "a little something extra") as it carries quite a spicy punch. Want to give it a shot? I'd recommend perhaps including less chipotles in adobo to reduce the heat and, of course, adding more SALT! More importantly, the recipe recommends marinating the chicken while preparing the black bean salad and preheating the grill. My personal taste buds would be delighted further perhaps with marinating the chicken overnight and adding the sliced avocado. Next time I'll give it a shot.

Before I move on, I must address the second feat of the night--I conquered the grill pan! Until tonight my chicken would not cook properly. Until tonight my chicken turned out dry. Until tonight my spirits flared in anger as I could not reach the sometimes unheathy expectations of perfection I set for myself in the kitchen. Until tonight the grill pan laughed in my face while I read a recipe requiring its use. Tonight, though, I came through in the clutch (much like the stocky point guard of Pittsburg might I add). The keys follow and perhaps you know this, but perhaps you don't, so here goes: preheat the pan to a high heat; add your chicken and avoid the temptation to move it or turn it for 4 to 5 minutes; set the timer and turn chicken at 4 to 5 minutes; after flipping the chicken, again avoid the temptation to fool with it; if necessary, press down on the chicken to cook though after cooking for about 8 to 10 minutes on each side. You migth even test with a meat thermometer. I actually pulled one off to cut and was amazed with my work. Dorky, I know.

Now what might take this recipe to the next level? Can you keep a secret that just might doctor it up to perfection? Here goes--keep the same spice (that means the chipotles) and on top of each serving drizzle a healthy dose of Jalepeno Cilantro Ranch (JCR). Boom!

I will partake in such a condiment addition next time I prepare this dish. In the meantime, stay tuned for the JCR recipe.
Marinate overnight, fire up your grill or grill pan, grab a cold beverage (or two) and enjoy!

Grilled Spicy Lime Chicken with Black Bean Salad

Adapted from “Cook’s Country”

Serves 4

  • 1/3 cup lime juice
  • 1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
  • 1/4 cup olive oil
  • 2 chipotle chiles, roughly chopped, plus 2 tablespoons adobo sauce
  • 1 tablespoon honey
  • 3 medium garlic cloves, minced
  • 2 teaspoons ground cumin
  • Salt and pepper
  • 8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs or breasts
  • 2 (16-ounce) cans black beans, drained and rinsed
  • 1/2 cup chopped scallions (or red onion)
  • 1 red bell pepper, sliced thin
  • 1 ripe avocado, sliced thin (optional)
  • Lime wedges for serving

1. Light grill, or heat grill pan to medium. Whisk lime juice, cilantro, oil, chiles and sauce, honey, garlic, cumin, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper together in small bowl.

2. Toss chicken with 1/4 cup lime juice mixture in separate large bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Marinate chicken in refrigerator while grill (or grill pan) continues to preheat.

3. Toss beans, scallions, red pepper, and avocado with 1/4 cup lime juice mixture in serving bowl. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

4. Grill chicken over very hot fire (or in grill pan) until well-browned on both sides and cooked through, 8 to 13 minutes. Transfer chicken to serving platter and drizzle with remaining lime juice mixture. Serve immediately with black bean and avocado salad.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Sure, talk to the players, but what do the wives, mothers, sisters, daughters, and girlfriends think?

Down...Set...Hike...What's this I hear? Increase the number of games in an NFL season? Prepare your calendars, ladies, as NFL commissioner Roger Goodell hopes to increase the number of in-season games as early as August 2011. What does this mean for us? Well, those pre-season games that we can sometimes lure our men away from because the stars they want to see only play at the beginning and the Ws and Ls don't count, just might disappear. This means that the Sundays dedicated to football simply begin earlier on the calendar year. I, for one, am not quite sure I'm ready for such jumpstarting an already lengthy Fall full of college games Thursday through Saturday night and NFL games Sunday and Monday.

With earnest dedication, this Sugar Land spousal team spends many hours parked in front of the television for the gridiron battles. Although as a teacher it seems that I'm running two-a-days during these early school months, I attempt to take in the sports extravaganza that is football season. By December, though, I'm wearing thin. The metaphorical muscles used in wishing for alternatives on the tube or the joints worn out from the guilt of keeping my husband away from the games (he's not that bad reallyl) yearn for a relief.

Secondly, I question if this decision accounts for the players' true interests as it seems that injury looms ominously overhead for players required to compete in longer seasons. Apparently the players' union will be involved in this deal, and hopefully with the discussion of more bye weeks and perhaps with the more advanced methods of preparing in the off-season, these threats can be avoided.

Goodell also mentions the possibility of playing these added games abroad. Yes, perhaps increasing the international interest in the NFL is beneficial for marketing and money-making, but what about the dedicated NFL fans living here under the Red, White, and Blue? Especially in today's economy, who can afford to travel to England to watch early season games? Further, who wants to pay for these games that perhaps will only be covered on the NFL Network?

Why am I complaining that these games will not be viewable to the average fan after complaining that the NFL season already wears me out? One reason: I know the euphoria my husband finds himself in during the Fall, and I wish that for every day of his life.
Plus, sharing in it while cheering on the Texans (this is the year you know) is a nice fit for a Sunday afternoon.

Perhaps to avoid the Fall football fatigue I need to work out more in the pre-season, building endurance to make it to the end. I'll start Thursday with a four day stint of more college basketball. Bracket updates to follow.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Facebook Lists

With Facebook's listing of favorite movies, songs, books, ice cream flavors, brands of nail polish, choices of health care providers, ok, yes I'm clearly toying with a ball full of ridiculousness; however, the thought of sorting through posts of people's "favs" from not only friends, but mere acquaintances, stresses me out. Yet tonight, I have a bit of a list of my own.

Just last week I heard a song from my high school angst that ran into college drama (a more mature strand of angst) from the Dawson's Creek soundtrack, and it reminded me of the joys of the undiscovered-by-the-mainstream-media song. No, I am not claiming to have the sole magical power of finding new artists or even to listen only to unpopular musical melodies and give up on them when the cool kids hear about them. It's not that at all.

I simply enjoy good music. Television and movie soundtracks have given me songs that inspire me, save me, uplift me, depress me, and that let me be me.

I apologize in advance for the mass listing from Dawson's Creek and please note the following are in no particular order.
Without further adieu...

1. "Ready for a Fall" by PJ Olssen (Dawson's Creek)--vulnerability--yes!
2. "Any Lucky Penny" by Nikki Hassman (Dawson's Creek)
3. "Stay You" by Wood (Dawson's Creek)--I wanted to marry a man who felt this way about me, and as God would have it, he's by my side every day and night, over every hill and in every valley.
4. "Cellophane" by Amanda Ghost (November Rain)--killer raspy voice perfect for angst, drama, being on the verge of angry tears, or just plaing p-o'ed
5. "Touched by an Angel" by Stevie Nicks (November Rain)--yes, well-known perhaps, but lovely just the same.
6. "I'll be Okay" by Amanda Marshall (My Best Friend's Wedding)--who hasn't lost a crush or significant other (can they be that significant in high school?), but we all recover, don't we?
7. "You Don't Know Me" by Jann Arden (My Best Friend's Wedding)--that crush you lost and recovered from in #6--this refers to him.

Yes, there are more, but these gems seared permanent emotional dents into my heart, and these ridges of joy, grief, anger, ____(insert passionate emotion here)___ shape who I am today.
Now I've got some CDs to dig out and music to listen to.

PS--I held off on the complete listing from Dawson's Creek. Really, buy the entire soundtrack. Excellent!

Who's on Guard?


"What's Your Cooking Personality?" captured my attention while browsing through my Google Reader a couple of nights ago. Apparently, now added to my list of demands as a full-grown, working adult (that sounded a bit like a breed of dog if I must admit) are the responsibilities of the "nutritional gatekeeper." According to studies, I am responsible, as the purchaser and provider of most meals in our household, for approximately 70% of what my family (currently my hubby and I) eat. I wasn't sure that I signed up for such a task! I'll see what I can do, and I started already by testing my food personality.

However, quite the conundrum appeared as I sat down, after eating a lovely self-prepared chicken salad for dinner I might add (hint...hint...). Given the five questions, can we really pinpoint my cooking personality? Especially when I have at least two responses that fit me well for each question?

Regardless, here lies the conclusion revamped by my own assessment that several of the categories fit what I believe to be my cooking personality: I am a methodical, healthy cook.

What does this mean? According to the Cornell researchers, I rely a great deal on recipes (check), consider health as a primary focus in preparing meals (check--well, most of the time), and sometimes sacrifice taste for health (check). They pegged me. I'll take it.

Hopefully my husband will as well, as the one inside the walls of the "nutritional gateways" of our household. Embellishing his Saturday morning pancakes with the likes of fresh fruit, I embraced my cooking personality with pizazz. but who doesn't love a bowl of natural goodness?

Luckily for him, I haven't boxed myself in. Life's an exploration as is the kitchen and each meal (dessert included) holds opportunity for adventure. You might just choose the low-fat route, but yes, add the SALT!

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Cry Me a River--Of Tequila?

No, this post will not reference drowning sorrows to be left with a killer hangover post pity-party drinking session. Rather, it's my response to the news that J.T. (yes, Justin Timberlake, that same trendsetter that, dressed to the nines, can tickle the ivories while luring in the ladies with "Senorita" and tickle America with digital shorts about gifts in boxes on SNL) is crossing into the marketing realm with the launch of a new tequila. Stylelist covers the new product's name and notes its release date in May in selected cities, mine not one of them.

First, I think the guy's like Obama in the sense that as an pop culture icon, he can do no wrong. Coincidentally, he even campaigned heavily for our new Commander in Chief ever so smoothly with his current Hollywood beauty. J.T. has made intelligent (and money-making) decisions in the past, minus well, the whole dating Brittney Spears issue. Perhaps it wasn't a mistake, though, if you consider that tracks written and produced as a result. Let's just say he was refining his taste as he moved on to the likes of Sco. Jo, Cameron Diaz, and Jessica Biel.

Yet, part of me wants to yell, "Stick to your genre, bro!" (I don't know that I'd call him bro. Have to think about that one.) Is he the type of "Renaissance Man" our culture produces? Perhaps. I just don't feel that people need to tiptoe into the waters of every ocean, sea, river, or even bayou available. I don't think his musical career will suffer in any sense with this new pursuit. I do wonder if his bottles will include the worm.

While I appreciate the adventurous spirit of a pop star, I hope it does not validate this need in our society to invest ourselves in anything possible to make another dollar or busy ourselves in seeking fame or confirmation.

But, hey, I'll try anything once.

Why not order your 901 with a couple of limes, and of course, bring on the SALT!

So They Say You're A Rock Star

My wonderfully exotic and uniquely inspirational friend Michelle deemed me a rock star on my Facebook wall, comparing me to a "cute blond thing with a killer voice." I must say that I question her hearing. Maybe I'm blond. Maybe I can be cute. I am fairly certain, no, I am 100 hundred percent, stake both of my opposable thumbs (yes, both) that a killer voice I have not.

I love singing. I love music. I love how my entire persona can be shaped by a tiny note or apt phrase. I love the power of song. That's a credit to my dad. We'll call him the Cardinal of Song. He's the father of a rock star. I think he knows it.

As noted, however, pleasing, or sometimes even tolerable, sounds do not exit my mouth at almost any point during my self-produced tracks. These tracks are mostly covers of the likes of Elton John, Jewel, Sugar Land, Hova, Chris Tomlin, Jimmy Buffet, or Kenny Chesney to name a few, but I have collection enough to tour.
This I do. It's a must. You sing, and the world will sing with you. That's just the key: music moves people, so you can move people.

What I can say is this- Michelle knows me, the real me. She knows that indeed there is a tiny rock star in my soul that bursts through when I am home, when I am who I was created to be.

If I were a philosopher, and maybe we are all in some manner, but a published and perhaps notable philosopher, these five musical truths might backbone my thoughts:

1. Shakespeare claims, "All the world's a stage." I say, "One's shower makes for one helluva sold out venue."
2. Cleaning without music is like writing with a dull pencil. It's possible but certainly not enjoyable.
3. Thin walls mean sing louder; your children will appreciate it one day.
4. Mosquitoes, bananas, falling apart, falling in love, redneck women, the state of Missouri, soul searching, soul burning, strokin', praise, thanksgiving, and petitioning all make for splendid lyrics.
5. Everyone has an inner rock star; some simply choose to ignore it, hoping it will disappear. Others suppress it in fear of judgment. Still others recreate it constantly to blend with their surroundings.
Yet, some, seek and find it, nourish and embrace it, and share it with others, cultivating a world of expression around them. It is this rock star, vocal talent optional, that should we all strive to be, what sweet, sweet music our world might call out in each other.

Friday, March 20, 2009

March Madness--Not Just for the Boys




Day 1 of my dappling with this blogging business, and it just so happens that I'm pursuing this writing endeavor during my school's Spring Break and during what, for me, is quite possibly the most exciting time in sports outside of LSU games and the NFL draft--It's March Madness Baby. Too bad you can't hear my best Dicky V impersonation. Too bad I can't give you a warmer welcome to my blog in my attempted Reba McIntyre voice--"Hi (said with at least two syllables), welcome to my blog. It's so nice to see you (again, you with two syllables)."

Back to today's story. Day 2 of the NCAA tourney and I'm batting 1000. Is it ok to mix metaphorically when discussing sports? Another topic for another day. Today, I'm a champion; today, my sports knowledge surpasses my husband's; today, I make the All-Star game; today, the media highly suspects I'm using performance enhancing drugs because surely I can't be this good on my own. Tomorrow, I may wake up to the reality of my usual crash and burn bracketology. In ten minutes, this dream may end, but let's talk about how right now, I'm a star!

I'm sitting in front of the TV, basking in my bracket glory, but seriously rooting on #6 West Virginia to make sure the #11 ranked Dayton does not upset them. That's the magic of the tourney though, I suppose. How boring would it be with no upsets! You just have to pick the right ones. The other games currently being played are seeming to work out in my favor.
Let me explain the lengthy process involved in my success.

My bracket training has been years in the making. Unfortunately, I grew up in a house where basketball wasn't a favorite in the sports realm. We were soccer kids, but after meeting my husband, the keeper of all sports knowledge, I quickly became a fan of filling out a bracket each March and actually watching my teams tank out as the weekend progressed. This could be my year though; wait on it.

For all of the ladies out there intimidated by sports or, in all honesty, bored by your father's, brother's, spouse's, friend's passion for the games, give it a chance. You'll learn terms like "Cinderella Pick," and "bracketology," and you will surely spice up your relationship with impressive dedication to your man's hobbies. But it's not all about the guy in our lives. You'll embrace an underdog team and believe in them. You'll sign up on ESPN to compete. You won't watch every game, but you'll check updates on your phone. You'll love winning and hate losing. Try it. Sports competitions give us the chance to feel and that's what it's all about.
Picking teams for the most part can't be easier, right? National rankings are there for a reason, so your best bet is to go with the favored team, especially clear cut ones in early rounds. #1 ranked North Carolina will clearly defeat #16 Radford (who I've never heard of, no offense). The second rule, again a spicy nugget of information I learned from my other half, is that there is always a #5 vs. #12 upset--at least one. However, it's the #7 vs. #10 games and #7 vs. #8 games that will tug at you. The key here is to go with your gut. Ok, scratch that poor tidbit of advice.

Instead, do your research. This is where the "not just for the boys" comes in. Guys will spend weeks preparing for this two weekend event. They will even attempt to persuade you not to watch American Idol in order to watch in-season games. Don't let this intimidate you ladies. The key is Jay Bilas, ESPN News, 20 minutes on a bike at your local gym, the morning commencing the tourney. And hey, if you don't belong to a gym, put it on at home, break out the yoga mat, and do some crunches. Everybody wins, even your stride to a bikini body six pack.

Think about it. You too could impress yourself with what you know (or don't know and just guess) about college basketball. It's so much fun, and at the end of the day, if Oregon is in the tourney and you want to pick them for "the big dance" based on their snazzy green and gold uniforms and your love of all things ducks, it's your bracket, dang it, and there is magic in the madness!