Day Thirteen: A Picture of A Favorite Band or Artist

I love music of all sorts...mostly.  My brother might say that my tastes are too narrow because I don't know the big names or songs in the indie world and I don't always appreciate the sounds of the struggling artists performing on off-label records.  And yes, I do listen to the Glee CDs and sing along at the top of my lungs because it makes me happy.

I believe that music has certain times that it wants to be listened to, and so my "favorite" band or artist will vary, usually based on the weather.  For rainy days, of which we have many, I turn to Harry Connick Jr. (his big band sound, not those few years of experimental-whatever-it-was).

Big band music is appropriate in many situations, but most especially on rainy days.  A mix of Harry with Ella and Louis and maybe a few others is perfect.

Contrary to popular belief, it is not always raining here, so it helps to have a few more options for other weather.  Folk music is well-suited to cool spring days, especially days that involve working in the garden or on art projects outside.  I have a Jango (similar to Pandora) station set to Peter, Paul, and Mary.

As a child I heard jokes about folk music and this group in particular but never really paid attention.  Once I became an adult, however, I started listening to more and more folk music.  Perhaps that is why I think the best Christopher Guest film is A Mighty Wind -- it's funny and I love  singing along with the soundtrack.

And for more modern folk I turn to Peter Salett, the artist who sang "Heart of Mine" on Keeping the Faith and with that gained a fan for life.

Sunny summer days need something other than folk or big band to take one's emotions and kick it up a notch.  For that I might choose Cake...

...or Blink 182 or Barenaked Ladies or any number of 90s bands that remind me of fun days away at college.

But even sunny days must draw to a close.  We like to cook in this house, and so most evenings will find me and Honey preparing the evening meal.  On days that  remember to turn the music on, I'll listen to my own blend of happy music -- generally something with Sam Cooke & Roy Orbison.

I love his voice!

This reminds me of Grama.

And no posting about music would be quite complete without a tribute to hometown heroes.  Some people are proud of our indie scene; I prefer those who broke out of the coffeehouses and bars and made it to the big time.  Listening to bands like The Decembrists, Everclear, and Pink Martini adds a bit of pride over our music scene to the experience.

Of course this whole post is about music, but in all honesty I must admit something: most of the time I'm listening to NPR.

Day Twelve: A Picture of Something I Love

 There are many things in life that I appreciate -- the perfect cup of coffee, a well written novel, a hot cup of tea, just about any type of food (especially if avocado is one of the ingredients), fruit.  I would even use the term "love" to describe my appreciation for some of these things, although one might argue that's a bit of an exaggeration.  I do, however, know for certain what I do love, at least as far as non-people go: my pets.  And while I love my cats, I am especially protective of my love for my dog, Lotus, at least in part because she is part of a misaligned breed: she's a pit bull.

Pit bulls have a very bad reputation -- none of it really deserved, in my mind, since the majority of news reports regarding "pit bull attacks" are then later redacted because the attacking dogs are generally not pit bulls.  And while pit bulls are bred as fighters so they don't always get along with other dogs, they are, perhaps, the most people-friendly dogs you would ever hope to meet.  That, too, is a byproduct of being bred for fights -- the breeders had to be sure that the dogs would never turn on people, even when hopped up on adrenaline from a dog fight.

Not all dogs are aggressive toward other dogs.  Lotus is rather a wuss, really, when it comes to...anything.  The cats rule the house, so Lotus lets them get away with anything. (As you can see with these videos of Lotus, Nora, and Nicky.) 


When we're out for a walk, she's good about ignoring dogs unless they bark at her -- then she barks back.  She tends to hate meeting dogs when she's on the leash, and I am told that is because of her overly sensitive fight or flight -- she wants to run away from other dogs and if she can't, she becomes aggressive. But for the most part, she lets other dogs, even her shit zhu friends, dominate her.

For the next eleven days, we are puppy-sitting for my friend, Bestie #1.  She has an adorable lab-heeler mix that is 11 weeks old.  She decided on this puppy rather spur-of-the-moment and so needed to have a place for her when she went to a wedding and a vowel renewal (in two different states, both far away, in the same week!).  I said that we would watch the puppy, little Charlize (aka "Charlie"), as long as the puppy and Lotus, my lovely baby, were able to get along (I didn't quite realize it was for 11 days, but that's my fault for not looking at a calendar!).

Lotus loves this dog.  She gets a bit tired having a puppy around all the time -- Lotus would much rather sleep about 20 hours a day and that's just not possible with a puppy -- but she is good with Charlie.  She even taught Charlie to play tug-of-war (see the video, starting at the 45 second mark)!




The puppy is exhausting.  I remember why I never wanted a puppy -- we adopted Lotus when she was two, potty-trained and at least knew the command "sit."  This puppy is no where even close to potty-trained, and I hear that's what I should expect because it's under 12 weeks old and can't always sense its bladder.  The puppy also has an incredible amount of energy.  And I realized having two dogs (plus three people, four cats....maybe even a partridge in a pear tree) means that my house gets dirty very, very quickly.

I hate messes.  I am always cleaning, vacuuming, mopping.  Now, with this menagerie, we vacuum at least once, usually twice a day, sweep three or four times, and try to keep up with the rest of life.  I am exhausted.  But it is worth it because it gives my baby, Lotus, a playmate, even if only for a few days, and that makes her happy.

I get very upset when people judge the breed, as in the case of a library that shut down a children's reading program rather than allowing a certified therapy dog (who happened to be a pit bull) participate.  I can't even begin to express how angry that makes me!  But sadly, I am used to it.  When we applied at the rescue to adopt Lotus, one of the first questions we were asked was whether we'd be okay with strangers telling us we were irresponsible because we owned a pit bull, with people looking at us and crossing the street to get away from us merely because of the dog's look, with always having to fight public opinion.  I said yes, I understood the ramifications of this adoption.  It was worth it to me to have the most wonderful dog in the world.  But that does not make these situations any less difficult.  One day I hope that pit bulls will overcome this stereotype and people will understand that it's not a breed that is good or bad -- a number of cities and countries have overturned bans on pit bulls because the incidents of dog bites did not decrease at all, proving that BSL (breed specific legislation) does nothing except break the hearts of responsible owners who love their dogs and have to suddenly give them up -- people are responsible for whether they train and care for their animals.  And so I will keep advocating for my beloved breed and showing off my wonderful baby to whomever will listen and see her value.

Day Eleven: Something to Hate

I am not sure how much details are required for today's task in the Thirty Day Challenge, which is to post a picture of something I hate.  I try not to hate too many things.  Dislike?  Yes.  Avoid?  Certainly.  Hate?  That's a powerful word.  And most of the time things I hate are really more broad topics, like bigotry, intolerance, genocide, and double-standards.  I could try to find pictures to represent those things, but it would be difficult.

One "hatred" in my life -- more of an overwhelming fear, really -- is of deep water.  Or, more specifically, water in which I cannot see the bottom.  This, to me, is very dangerous.  I have no desire to be swimming next to a giant whale.  So I guess I could add "large sea life" to my list of fears.

No cruise in the future for this girl!  The most terrifying aspect of the Titanic story, to me, was not freezing to death because of an iceberg and human error.  Oh no.  It was freezing to death in a dark ocean.  Can anything be scarier?!?

Excuse me.  I need to walk around on dry land now and remind myself that I am far away from deep water and sea life...

Day Ten: Things Are More Fun When Shared

Yesterday, after three weeks of 18-20-hour days, I finally crashed.  I felt so ill, but I think it was exhaustion.  That is, primarily, the reason why I did not post.  I'm trying to ignore the Guilt Monster that likes to taunt me by saying "What, you couldn't take 15 minutes out of your day to sit and blog?"  Shut up, Guilt Monster.  You know the crazy days I've had lately.

And so today I am posting the task for Day Ten of the Thirty Day Challenge: a picture of the person with whom I do the "most messed up things."  That would be Bestie #2. 

Of course our "messed up things" usually involve the following:

1. Consuming huge amounts of fried food late at night when we should be sleeping.
2. Singing in the car (or with Band Hero) at the top of our lungs.
3. Teasing my little brothers.
4. Acting silly and laughing all the time.
5. Painting rooms of the house at midnight.
6. Obsessively creating some new art project.

Yes, I know.  We're rebels. 

It may not sound like much, but we have fun.  And one of the reasons we have fun is that we can both let our hair down (so to speak) together.  Last weekend a brother asked me, "Are you drunk?"  Nope.  Unless one can be drunk on laughter and silliness, in which case the answer could be "yes."  It was just a strange experience for my youngest brothers, who are used to seeing me rather straight-laced, seeing me laughing and acting silly for little or no apparent reason.  I've always had to be responsible, adult.  I believe that I was born age 40 and then just increased in age from there.  But being with Bestie #2 reminds me to slow down, have fun, and relax...even if it's just a few hours on a weekend.

Day Nine: A Supportive Person

For today's bit in the Thirty Day Challenge I am supposed to provide a picture of the person who's gotten me through the most.  The most what?  My propensity to procrastinate?  My undergrad or graduate school experience?  The most harrowing year in my job?  The most complex year?    The most difficult relationships?  The most trouble?  The most fun?  Answers to each of those questions vary.

My solution to this problem was to look ahead.  Who might I mention in future tasks this month?  I've mentioned Bestie #1 already, and since she is the person who's been with me for nearly 18 years, I can pretty much safely say she's helped me work through difficult relationships and situations.  I think that I'll mention Honey, Bestie #2, and another friend (we'll call her MaMere) in future posts.

In thinking about everything, I've decided to focus on two beautiful women who helped me through the most complex year at work.  We all helped each other, agreeing that were we to be by ourselves we probably would've gone a bit crazy.  Diversity is something that my profession said it was all about, by my team was walking, living proof of how amazing things can be when people work together and represent diverse backgrounds.  We helped and complimented each other and every single day we laughed.

 I would never in a million years want to go back to the stress and frustration of that job that year (I lost 40 pounds in six months from the stress), but I would love the opportunity to work -- and laugh -- with these ladies again.