Tuesday, October 12, 2010


I am not all egotistical, but I realize the hole left when someone you love actually leaves your day to day life. I know I'll be missed and I know it will hurt both you and me. I have a feeling it will hurt me more than I know, but I've been missed before and I've know what it feels like to miss. I miss so much. I miss so very much. I miss my life 10, 20, 30 years ago.

I miss the comfort of my childhood. I miss my baby brother holding me, strangling me with his little kid arm across my neck while I put him to sleep. I miss my Grandma Margie drinking her coffee and smoking her cigarettes at the kitchen table. I miss walking across the street to her house after school my Freshman year. I miss the house on Parker Lane (I dream about it ALL the time). I miss my Daddy leaving my sister and I sweet little notes at the breakfast table, lukewarm milk in a pitcher next to cereal because he had to leave so early for work, but he still wanted us to know he thought about us before he left the house in the predawn hours. I miss looking at design magazines and listening to Perry Como with my Mother. I miss antique malls with my family. I miss being responsible for my baby sister while my parents went out for date night, no matter how badly she behaved. I miss her sweet little chubby cheeks. I miss arguing about stupid little stuff with my sister Tina.

I miss being a cheerleader (even though I still am one. You know I support you). I miss the night my Mom stayed up with me super late so I could practice my cheers, and how we couldn't stop laughing about my Keds stuck in the dryer. I miss the night she taught me to 2 step and jitterbug. I miss watching her and Daddy dance together. I miss walking into the kitchen and catching them making out. I miss being around to see them hold hands.

I miss my PaPaw. I miss his coveralls and his chewed up cigar and his really, really big scissors next to his chair because he liked to cut out newspaper clippings. I miss his garage sales and Granny and Papaw's Cadillacs (because they coasted and I felt safe there). I miss Christmas at Granny's house, not because of the gifts, but because of the love (I don't think I could ever put into words the amount of love). I miss my cousins. I miss my Aunts and Uncles and how it felt to know they loved me, no matter what.

I miss riding in a car with my entire family on road trips across Texas and Shirley Temples in Mexico.

I miss being young.

I miss my early 20's, living with Arlana, Vicki and Lisa. I miss trying to figure "it" all out with them.

I miss Austin. I miss every heartbreak my best friend Aline helped me through. I miss sitting on the porch playing the guitar and singing songs with her and some random Chenoa I asked to live with us. I miss Ed sticking up for me. I miss breakfast tacos and super late night migas and crack fries and Bill MIller's sweet tea hangover cure.

I miss Sterling Court and the courtyard and living with Molly. I miss the bats flying out the chimney while we smoked. I miss Molly's laugh and silly little sweet potato ginger healing dinners and wine and the Beatles. I miss nights listening to 45's out back and love and good company. I miss Jared and Laura's porch, and Laura's Black Sabbath dancing.

I miss the unbelievable generosity of Leia and Richie for taking me in when I was at my worst. I miss our pallet.

I miss putting Ollie to bed. I miss Jill being a room away and her allowing me to be a part of her family.

I miss the togetherness of my 2009 birthday.

I miss late nights talking to you.

I miss and will miss so much.

Most of all, I'll miss you.

I hope you know.

I love you.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

10 years.

I arrived in Nashville May 2000 and had no plans to stay longer than a summer. Now it's 10 summers later, and I've decided it's time to be moving on.

I've been through much during the last 10 years. I've been in love and had my heart broken and had it put back together by some truly beautiful people who I now consider my family. I've watched you get married, have babies, buy houses, move away and come back, held your hands through break-ups and divorces, drank (a lot) with the best of you, danced with you, supported your music, your art, your businesses. I've lost friends and gained friends, found a sweet Annabelle and adopted a Lulu. I've lived in seven different homes and really only miss two of them, started school and finished, lost myself and found myself again and again.

I've changed (most times I think for the better and other times I'm not so sure).

I have more to say, but I think in the interest of keeping my eyes from getting all puffy, I'll save it for later.

But I will say, I'll never forget you.

Vezi mai multe video din Muzica

Saturday, May 29, 2010

In 7 years, everything changes...

I started school with so much passion. If you know anything about passion you will know it has a way of snapping your panties up your ass and causing a bind no one can ever pick out. Passion is, in and of itself, a bastard and a pain in in your ass and soul. My advice? Never be passionate. Passion sucks. Like something enough to let it stimulate you, never allow it to control you.

If you graduated from college as a younger, more idealistic person, you probably have an "I can do anything, I can do everything" mindset. But graduating as a 30 something woman, you would feel differently. I'm scared. I've finished something I started and I'm very (very) proud of myself for my accomplishments, but I don't exactly know how to go about the next step. I have plans. I have big dreams; I have big plans.

Dreams reaching fruition, on the other hand, are almost more unfathomable than finishing college.

I'm writing a business plan, I'm going to grad school, I'm getting pregnant and having a baby???

My advice, don't finish college with a passion for anything. It just makes a mess no 3 credit course will ever prepare you for. (ending sentence with a preposition...take my degree away, I dare you.)

I'll get it together. I swear. Anyone want to let me mold their leg in plaster?

Monday, May 10, 2010

If you had one hour to grab all that's important...

This has been the thought going through my mind as I've helped strangers and friends clean out their flooded homes. After all I've seen, I keep thinking about Mary. Mary has lived in the same home in Madison for 50 years. Mary's house wasn't just a place she lived, it was her home. A home full of memories; memories drowned within the flooded walls, in photo albums, in her Lane cedar chest, and in long forgotten jewelry boxes. Memories she carries in her mind and in her heart, memories soaked in the stench of the overflowing waters of the Cumberland. For Mary, the flood reminded her of all these long forgotten memories. She watched with courage and optimism as we helped clean out her home. Just like memories, her belongings were strewn about her home, only these memories were haphazardly tossed about by 3-4 feet of flood water. Mary courageously stood by as we were about to carry out her "hope chest". Mary said to Teresa and I, "Please be careful with this top drawer. It didn't get wet and this is the cake topper from my wedding." I choked back tears as I carried photo albums to her front porch to dry out as they all but disintegrated in my gloved hands. Mary and her family thanked us each time we lifted a piece of furniture. They thanked us every time we walked back into Mary's home and each time we walked out with another memory. When we were finished cleaning out what we could of her soaked memories, she simply said, "God bless you. How can I ever repay you?" It took all the strength I had to just give her a positive smile, pat her small shoulder and accept her thanks and blessings.

This week I have been hesitant to say much about my feelings regarding the flooding that has devastated Nashville. Mostly for fear of really dealing with what I have witnessed in my adoptive hometown. But now, I've had some time to let it sink in, and I have come to terms with my feelings about it all. I have not, however, come to terms with what has happened. The most profound emotion I have had since last weekend is gratitude. Gratitude for the people I have met along my path here in Nashville. Gratitude for strangers I have met who made a choice to reach out and help those in need. Gratitude for people like Mary, who reminded me, it's not just about the material possessions, but about memories and community and the most profound spirit and the will to survive and move forward.

We will move forward, we will rebuild. And on the other side of all this devastation, we will come out stronger and with a renewed spirit and sense of community. A community of all walks of life, religious backgrounds, age groups, financial and political beliefs. We will know we can depend on each other.

And for this, I am filled with gratitude, with awe, with spirit, and with love.

I am so very proud to call Nashville my home.

We ARE Nashville.

Friday, April 30, 2010

against the wind...

This song always stops me in my tracks. I love it, it's beautiful.

The years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
I found myself further and further from my home
And I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worryied about paying or even how much I owed
Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searching
Searching for shelter again and again

Against the wind
A little something against the wind
I found myself seeking shelter sgainst the wind

Well those drifter's days are past me now
I've got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out

Against the wind
I'm still runnin' against the wind
I'm older now but still runnin' against the wind
Well I'm older now and still runnin'
Against the wind

I wish the video quality was better...

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

I've never sinned

I have a list of what I would like to happen at my funeral. I think it's perfectly normal...if you grew up Catholic.

Of course the normal stuff would have to occur. All you people would have to come to a proper open casket viewing and say things like, "wow, she's never looked more peaceful" or "she was such an awesome lady" or "I wonder who did her makeup?" (Shan, you've now been in my blog twice.)

I would hope no one would do anything crazy like:
overturn the casket trying to jump in with me.
try to hold my hand when we've never held hands before (dead hands are cold, it's weird, it's creepy, I would never want you to feel uncomfortable.)
put some weird shit in the casket, like a Dwell magazine or something. I'm dead, I can't read and I wouldn't actually care about some lovely, minimalist home no one could ever live in. I'm in heaven. I would hope it's minimalist enough for my taste.

I would hope someone would:
make sure I don't have on panty hose or tights. those suck.
make sure my boobs look perky. (maybe I'd leave this to Jessica. She likes boobs since she thinks she's boob-less. little does she accept, she's lucky. I've told her.)

And finally, I would hope no one would get shit mixed up and play this version of my funeral song:

Monday, April 26, 2010

toothpaste, that's right, toothpaste.

I've long searched for the perfect toothpaste. Not too foamy, not too gritty, not too not foamy.

My friend Shannon is a gum critic. She tries them all and knows about the new ones before they come out. I'm pretty sure she has a spy within Orbit or Trident or all of them.

I need a spy.

I can't even tell you how many tubes of toothpaste I keep half full in my home. I mean, I throw them out eventually, because you can't really sell them at a yard sale or anything. And toothpaste is a weird thing to give away. Maybe I'll start taking them to clothes swaps or something.

Anyway, I have a new absolute favorite. Are you ready? Did I keep you in suspense long enough? Can you even stand waiting to know what I use on my precious teeth?

drumroll, please. no? okay.

Crest 3D whitening is the newest winner. Man, my teeth feel clean and I'm pretty sure they are getting whiter with every brushing.

That's all I had to say. I totally created this blog specifically to tell you about my preference in toothpaste. I'm not even kidding.