Five Years & a Mixed Tape

A (rather cheesy) poem for my husband on our fifth anniversary. . .

30 Reasons I'm Ready for 30

To commemorate this monumental occasion -- okay, let's be honest, to make myself feel better about getting older I'm calling it a monumental occasion -- I've made a list of ways to know I'm ready for thirty.

I had more than a little help. Half of 'em aren't mine, but collaboration is a good thing.

Strange, perhaps, but we do what we do, right? And this is how I deal.

So enjoy...

A Changing Season. A Changing Me.

Today is the autumnal equinox, a day of symmetry, equal parts day and night. Many people spend the day giving thanks for the abundance in their lives, celebrating the harvest, even giving back to those less fortunate. Me? I’ve spent the morning in my Bible Lit class, where I’ve found I’m not as isolated as originally expected.

(Music Review) Break Me Out by The Rescues

I've been in love with The Rescues since my husband discovered them this past spring. He bought the cd at Best Buy, forced me to listen to this song, and I was hooked. I must've listened to the cd at least a dozen times in the next week; over and over as I drove the 26 minutes to school in the mornings and the 26 minutes home in the afternoons.

The album is terrific. The group consists of two men, two women, and their harmonies remind me of youth choir -- which made my husband groan when I described it in those terms. They've got a pop-music feel -- which made my brother groan and say, "that's not my type of music."

But I love them. And I particularly love "Break Me Out."

Now I've Gone & Said "Ifs, Ands, or Buts." Who Am I?

We took our 4-year-old daughter to watch our city's local fireworks Monday night. It was her first time to see fireworks and I was almost as excited as she was about sharing such a special moment. I loved fireworks as a child; heck, I still do.

So we arrive at our viewing point, the local community college. We find a spot on the concrete stairs. We'd have preferred the grass but earlier it'd rained just enough. Another family with a little boy was seated a few steps above, and he and Shannon struck up a conversation almost immediately. Within minutes they bonded over their overprotective parents, both of whom kept telling them to stop swinging on the railing. This kept her entertained since we'd arrived about 20 minutes early, which was all well and good. Until I told her she needed to come sit with us since the fireworks were about to start.

To which she replied with an emphatic stomp and a stubborn, "No, Mom. I wanna sit with my friend."

This Mom's Quest to 'Roo the Day

On a midnight drive home after a September concert, I was completely sure about one thing. "We're going."

"Where?" my husband Ryan asked.

"To Bonnaroo. We're going to Bonnaroo."

And from that moment, we were in. It wasn't hard to convince my friend Gemi to go along, plans were made, and eventually, bags were packed -- a lot of 'em.

Dumb Blondes, Turning 30, & Why I Hate Thomas Wolfe

Who says you can't go back?

Thanks to Netflix Instant Queue, my daughter is obsessed with She-Ra.  You know... He-Man's sister. I have to throw in that little descriptive or else most people forget who she is, poor gal.  And when I say "obsessed", I mean obsessed.  We watch her every morning, and we'll be throwing a She-Ra birthday party later this summer, complete with a Princess of Power cake and all.

Additionally, I finished Sweet Valley Confidential: 10 Years Later this week. The saga of Elizabeth & Jessica Wakefield and the entire Sweet Valley gang continues.  I got my first Sweet Valley Kids book in second grade as a Valentine's present from my mom. From then on I was hooked, and pretty sure I read everything published about the twins straight through their college years. Without giving too much away, the twins are still blond and perfect, their parents still belong to the Sweet Valley country club, and Lila Fowler is still a rich bitch.

What a wonderful return to my childhood... or not so much. Because I honestly can't tell you which was worse.