I began writing this blog before my Dr. D was actually a doctor, as a way to chronicle our journey through med school as partners, as best friends, and as people who generally seek to enjoy the little things that make life awesome. We are still those same people, but now he's an intern in a five-year residency. And residency? It's no cake-walk, so all the more important to seek out and enjoy those little things... and laugh a lot along the way. This blog is here to show you how we do it.
It has been an emotional couple of weeks for me and mine; it feels like we have been living the epitome of "when it rains, it pours" lately. When times get tough, I find that it helps to remember the things that are good, and the things that are still making me smile. Call me a hopeless optimist, but I'd like to think it keeps me sane and grounded.
So as I greet this weekend with open arms and heart, I hope to usher out the bad, the sad, and the stressful by appreciating some of the things that are just plain right.
Starting this afternoon, I will no longer be living the bachelorette life. My partner in holey-jeans-wearing crime comes home to me today. Hallelujah!
Speaking of that guy, I have him to thank for bringing me out of my baking slump. Dr. D's favorite cookies (recipe here) are fresh and ready for the nom-age.
My coping mechanisms are typically either chocolate or new nail polish colors. Have a guess at which one won out this week.
And of course, J-dog continues to be an endless source of entertainment. Last night, Silence of the Lambs happened to be on television. I chewed my nails through the whole thing and J-dog slept---until Precious the dog got yanked down into the pit in the ground by that conniving kidnappee. After that, J-dog was glued to the television, no doubt to see to it that Precious got the proper veterinary attention after the whole ordeal.
...and: The Lion King is coming back to theaters in 3D. I mean really. That's just great.
Two days ago, I found myself sitting alone in my car in the nearly empty parking lot of a movie theater on the outskirts of town. It had been too long to remember since I had eaten anything from a fast food drive-through, and yet at this moment in time, I held a small mango pineapple smoothie in one hand and a McDonald's three-piece Chicken Selects in the other. The radio played at a deafening decibel, and as a song by Darwin Deez sounded over the airwaves, I started to cry. And then I started to laugh at myself, at the ridiculousness of it all. I also distinctly remember snorting, which made me laugh-cry harder.
Two observations: (1) Grief is a crazily convoluted emotion, and (2) eating while laugh-crying feels awkward. But in that moment, it was what I needed to do---I'm sure of it. We all have that tipping point, where the surface tension of bottled up emotions finally spills over, and apparently that moment was mine.
My reactions to grief have ranged in my lifetime from convincing myself that the benevolent spirit of a loved-one resided in my family's spare bedroom, to a full-blown anxiety of flying in airplanes, and even to a habit of changing the radio station whenever a Modest Mouse song is on. And I guess this time around, I needed some junk food and an upbeat, goofy love song.*
Do yourself a favor. Don't ever let anyone tell you that there's one way to grieve that's better than others, because my life experiences so far have taught me that not only is that not the case, but you can never predict how you'll react to grief. Don't limit yourself.
Life is so beautiful, so precious. Gosh, I hope you're enjoying it.
*Thank goodness Dr. D will be home in a week to remind me how nutritionally gross McDonald's is, because so help me, I didn't think the chicken was half bad...
Today, I feel the need to celebrate one of life's greatest mysteries, and one of my favorite things in the whole world: a puppy's ability to make nearly anything downright adorable.
{Found on Pinterest, source unfortunately not provided...
let me know if you know where he's from!}
See? SEE? This little dude is pissed, and yet you probably don't even care because he's fantastically furry and cute beyond comprehension.
I had the chance to puppy-sit for a friend a couple of weekends ago, and was reminded of how much I love every move puppies make---but also how much work they are. The dying-of-cuteness moment of the weekend was probably when the little guy stopped in his tracks in the midst of a wrestling match with J-dog, sat down right in front of me, and proceeded to do this:
Is there anything better than puppy hiccups? Few things, I'd venture.
We all have our own ideas about romance---some like it simple and low-key, others like it outlandishly extravagant with all the bells and whistles.
I'd like to think that I'm somewhere in the middle. I do so enjoy the occasional fancy French restaurant outing, bottle of red wine, and an accompanying long-stemmed red rose. On the other hand, my ideal romantic evening tends to be one in which I can dress in cute and comfortable clothes (there is no true comfort in a French restaurant, as far as I've witnessed), laugh loudly, obnoxiously, and uninhibitedly at my husband's jokes, and not have to worry about embarrassing myself by using the dessert fork for my salad.
How horribly gauche...
Dr. D and I have found many local establishments over these past few years that fit the bill for a perfect date night. For me, a perfect date night is a night in which we can share lots of unique and delicious food without breaking the bank (tapas fit the bill nicely), indulge in adult beverages at an environment that is conducive to conversation (no loud club music or belligerent undergrads!), and have the option of doing something fun or competitive to pass the moments in between our brilliantly witty banter. (Yes, we do think rather highly of each others' hilarity... it's one of the most healthy aspects of our marriage.)
Before Dr. D set out for his most recent away rotation, we made it a point to have one of our "ideal" date nights, and I'm happy to say it was exactly that. Good food, plenty of laughs, and some playful competition at the dart board.
I'm also happy to report that the evening went so well that we didn't have to call Elvis for a good time.
What are some of your favorite ways to spend date night?
I'm pleased to say that Dr. D was given the weekend off from his away rotation so he could spend the holiday with his two biggest fans (J-dog is doing his utmost to oust me from the #1 position, but until he learns to better control his crotch-kicking during wrestling matches with Dr. D, I think I'm sitting pretty).
Instead of providing the play-by-play of our weekend, I thought I'd just record some of my thoughts and observations over the past few days:
I hope I never ever lose that butterflies feeling I get when my husband tells me I'm beautiful.
Bacon tastes better after 1am, particularly when consumed al fresco.
Although I did enjoy the movie we went to see, nothing beats the goosebumps I inevitably get whenever the Harry Potter trailer starts.
In a cruel twist of plastic surgery and coincidence, Kevin Bacon now has a piggy nose. In related news, an android could probably emote better than January Jones (the movie we saw was X-Men: First Class, if you haven't gathered).
I am incredibly regretful that it took us three whole years to get around to trying the breakfast burritos at our local diner. On the other hand, my thighs are decidedly the benefactors of this oversight.
When it comes to most restaurants that have gone out of business since we moved here, we (1) never stepped foot in them while they were open, and (2) predicted their demise. We're thinking of offering up our services as restaurant consultants.
Fireflies---no matter how much I beg them---will not glow upon command for photographic purposes.
Chocolate and peanut butter continue to reign supreme in the contest of best flavor combination ever in the history of everdom (recipe coming soon).
Parades are kind of boring. And a little too loud.
I hope you all have had a lovely holiday weekend! Cheers to a shorter work week.
Well, here we are in Texas, and it shurr is a hot one. Muy cal-i-en-tay.
Thankfully the flights were uneventful. Whereas flying for me used to elicit panic attacks, I find myself having fewer and fewer white-knuckle moments the more I fly with Dr. D. It's to the point now where I can just sit down, buckle up, link my fingers in his, and drift off to sleep. And by the time I wake up, he's already ordered me a Diet Coke and peanuts. Good man.
We're visiting my parents for the first time since they moved here to the Gulf of Mexico. It's strange to see all the furniture I grew up with in a new setting, but somehow their new house still feels like home. It might have something to do with the fact that there are pictures like this around:
{Our wedding day - Mom being thoroughly entertained by Dr. D}
Of course we started missing J-dog the minute we got in the car on the way to the airport, so it was great to get the customary grunt-filled, tail-chasing greeting from Old Man when we arrived at my parents' house. It didn't take him long to get back to the sock-stealing hijinx for which he is infamous. Luckily Dr. D's socks were a little too big for him to down whole---in high school, my footie socks were never as lucky.
Here's a little glimpse at our weekend according to (you guessed it!) instagram. Hope your weekend was equally tasty & lazy!
We took trips to our favorite French pastry shop to play with our food (specifically a brioche monster)
and chillax with our buddy Monsieur Baguette.
Had some poodle cuddle time on the couch and didn't have to wait long for J-dog to fall asleep in one of his signature awkward positions.
As native Californians we have been on a constant quest in the Midwest for some authentic, cheap, greasy Mexican food. After three years of "close, but not quite," we may have finally found it in a little taco truck on a random corner. The mural of a burrito fighting a torta painted on the side of the truck was far too intriguing to pass up, and I'm glad we gave it a go because my chicken torta was muy bueno.
Went out with some friends for Sunday night trivia and got our butts handed to us (an entire round on Civil War historical trivia?! Come on!), but the black bean dip, bottomless chips, and fantastic company made it all worth while.
Growing up in my mother's household, I've developed a lifelong affinity for mason jars. They were a constant presence around the house, often filled to their frosty brims with ice water. Nothing can make hydrating more appealing, in my opinion.
Needless to say, when I found this recipe while investing (not wasting!) my time perusing Pinterest boards, I knew I had to give it a try. Monkey bread is one of Dr. D's favorite childhood sweets and I was pleasantly surprised to discover that these adorable single-serve desserts are sinfully simple to make.
Here's the recipe and some pictures, if you'd like to give it a try---and believe me, you should.
You'll need:
four 8-oz. mason jars
10 refrigerated biscuts {typically one package}
1/2 cup of white sugar
1/2 cup of brown sugar
1 tsp. of ground cinnamon
a quarter stick of butter, melted {optional}
First, separate the biscuits and cut each one into fourths. Mix the white sugar, brown sugar, and cinnamon together in a bowl. {Side note: While buzzing about the kitchen in giddy anticipation, Dr. D discovered that scooping a bit of this sugary mix with a tortilla chip resulted in a tasty snack akin to Taco Bell cinnamon twists. Go figure.}
Each piece of biscuit will then be tossed into the sugary mix for coating. I decided to melt a little bit of butter, dip my fingers in, and lightly coat each piece before putting them into the bowl. The original recipe doesn't call for this, but Dr. D recounted to me the awesome butteryness of the monkey bread he used to eat as a kid, so I decided to go for broke.
Once all pieces are in the bowl, toss to your heart's content! After the pieces are sufficiently coated, prep the four mason jars with cooking spray and place ten of the biscuit pieces in each, periodically sprinkling some of the extra sugary mixture between layers.
Place the mason jars in a high-edged pan and bake at 350 degrees for approximately 15 minutes, until the dough has risen and you can see the sugar bubbling. {I let mine cook for 17 minutes, because the dough hadn't risen as much as I wanted---I imagine the timing changes based on the brand and type of biscuits you're using.}
Remove from the oven and let the jars cool for about 5 minutes before serving. Dr. D and I each had one fresh out of the oven---highly recommended!---and I've lidded the other two and am refrigerating them for later. We also discovered that chopsticks proved to be a fantastic implement for fishing the delicious bread bites out of the jar.
Why yes, yes there is. And let me tell you, J-dog and I couldn't be more thrilled!
Dr. D and I have spent the past few days happily re-acclimating to togetherness, and basking in the glory that is partnership: living and goofing off with your best friend. It's like the whole paper towel incident never even happened.
We rushed back from the airport Saturday and started off our reunion right with some sweaty, confetti-fied fun at a Girl Talk concert {pictured above}. It was a different concert experience than I'm used to, since we typically go see full-on bands of the rock or indie variety, but I loved how everyone danced with wild abandon---much different than the more demure head-nodding and slight toe-tapping crowds we've frequented, or even the pseudo-violent mosh pits and crowd surfing of our yesteryear.
Having my husband back home has made me want to celebrate non-stop. If it weren't for work and classes, I'd be demanding to go on adventures and out to fancy dinners with Dr. D every day! Unfortunately, this celebratory feeling is currently being put on the back burner until I can wrap up some big papers and work projects. Boo.
BUT.
I have two other things to celebrate as well. The first is that I've been promoted at work (doesn't include a pay raise and we'll have to move to a different building this summer, but I'll still take it because it makes me feel appreciated), and the second is that Dr. D brought me home a MacBook Pro that he refurbished while he was in CA.
So, I guess my iPhone + MacBook officially makes me a Mac person now. I must admit that I'm a little nervous about the learning curve of the new operating system, but I know I'll discover a lot of awesome possibilities with this fun new toy!
It's time for another round of Friday Favorites! Two weeks in a row... I'm totally impressed with myself. Today I'd like to share some of my favorite up-beat songs to work out to. Hope you find something new to put into your rotation!
Artist: Sleigh Bells
Album: Treats {The cheerleader-esque singing helps me imagine that people are cheering because they're so proud of me for working out}
Artist: Kanye West Album: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy {I play this one when I feel like upping the resistance on the elliptical, and then I put my game face on---lip curled slightly. Intimidated?}
Artist: Mark Mothersbaugh Album:The Life Aquatic Soundtrack {I absolutely HATE running, but this song actually makes me want to}
Artist:Kate Nash Album: Made of Bricks {Something about this song reminds me that I'm working out to feel healthier, not necessarily to look like a Barbie. I heart her accent.}
Artist: tUnE-yArDs Album: w h o k i l l {Yes, that's the proper capitalization and spacing... unique, just like her sound}
Artist: Empire of the Sun (remixed) {It's got a good beat, and you can sweat to it! In other news, you should probably watch this music video on youtube. Weeeeiiiird.}
Fridays generally put people in a good mood, and I'm no different. Sure, it's the start of my weekend, but there's something else about this day... some "Friday-ness" to it that makes me happy and helps me to appreciate the little things in life just that much more.
I'm going to try something new, so let's just roll with it, shall we?
For the next few weeks, I'm going to try to hold myself responsible to posting about a few of my current favorite things at the end of each week. I'm hoping to have a general category every Friday, and will post about some things in my life that fit into the category and are currently making me happy/swoon/laugh/dance around like a spaz. In no way do I think I'm being innovative here, folks---I know this sort of thing is done frequently on countless blogs in the weboverse. But hey, this is about creating memories for myself, so why shouldn't I give it a go?
For today's favorites, I'm going to focus on some of the youtube vidoes that I am currently wearing out like a favorite pair of jeans. Here we go!
What it is: The guiltiest dog to ever live, whose silent sobs simultaneously tear my heart to pieces and make me giggle like a maniac.
Where I found it: I believe a friend posted it on facebook.
Favorite part: Denver bearing his teeth in anguish at 1:20... oh my goodness, it killllllls me! :(
What it is: Booty bouncing in its finest form. Warning: will cause involuntary hip movements and rump shaking. Do not watch if easily offended by dexterous derrières. All I know is it kept me more energized this week than caffeine could.
Where I found it: One of our former wedding photographers shared it on twitter. Thanks, Josh!
Favorite part: Explosion-causing splits starting at 1:17. YES. A thousand times yes.
What it is: A drum cover by my brother of one of the Foo Fighters' newest songs, "Rope." Dave Grohl and Taylor Hawkins are two of my musical heroes, and of course Broseph does them complete justice in this little ditty.
Where I found it: On brother's youtube channel, which happens to be taking off along with his professional drumming career in Hollywood. So proud of him :)
Favorite part: The face-melting fills beginning at 2:50.
What it is: Magical. Homegirl's got some serious flow, and the way they managed to clean this up from the original is priceless.
Where I found it: Probably on facebook?
Favorite part: How she doesn't breathe from 1:16-1:30, and yet she raps approximately one kajillion words. Approximately.
Well, this whole distance thing isn't getting any easier, now is it? I suppose that's an excellent sign for our marriage.
I know you don't know it yet, but today we had a fight---just a small one. In my head. And I realize that it's not really fair for me to have a disagreement with you (as well as a resolution), all without you actually being an active participant in any of it, so I suppose it's only fair that I let you know what went down.
You see, this morning I went into the kitchen to grab a paper towel. Had I not done this, I wouldn't have bickered with you telepathically from over 2,000 miles away. But honey, you've got to know that I periodically need paper towels. I just do.
I didn't need very much paper towel, which is why when I pulled on the roll and didn't meet the perforated end until much later than I expected (resulting in a big ol' honkin' paper towel of wastefulness), I discovered that you hadn't purchased the half-sheet style that we always buy. I found myself perturbed. Probably more perturbed than the situation actually warranted, I'll admit, but emotions are currently running high around these parts.
I tried to rip the gigantic paper towel I had in half, but of course in my frustration I ripped a little too zealously which left me with one three-inch wide triangle in one hand, and the rest of the towel in the other. This, of course, I blamed on you and not on my mounting irrational anger. I went on for the next few minutes being annoyed with you and vowed to be more specific on my next shopping list.
And then I went to the closet where we keep J-dog's food, and when I opened it up and saw the rest of the paper towel pack sitting there, I involuntarily laughed aloud.
The brand of paper towels you bought is called "Awesome!" (yes, exclamation included), and now it all makes perfect sense. I forgive you.
{What you see on the line above happens to be a guest post by J-dog. He saw an opportunity to rest his chin on the corner of my keyboard in hopes of an absent-minded ear scratch from yours truly as I gathered my thoughts for this post. It worked; ears are thoroughly scratched. Moving on...}
We're in the home stretch, folks. I'm talking less than a year until our future is determined. Less than 365 days until we find out where we'll be spending Dr. D's residency and beginning our next big life adventure.
Where's the fast-forward button?
This past Thursday was Match Day for fourth year medical students all around the country, a day during which I'm sure many tears were shed (both happy and sad) and many adult beverages were consumed (both in celebration and medicinally). Now all of those people are making plans for the future. And next year, that will be us.
I am doing my very best to live in the present, but every now and then I get that exhilarating roller coaster feeling in my gut because--guys, I don't know if you know this about me, but I love new beginnings. And I love road trips. So the potential of getting to go on another cross-country road trip with my husband and poodle on our way to start a new life chapter... well, there aren't a whole lot of things that could excite me more.
I mean, during our last cross-country drive we discovered 85 octane fuel, sweet potato fries, gas stations with slot machines, and gigantic dinosaur sculptures in Colorado. After that, how could I not be hooked? There's so much out there I haven't seen!
That being said, as I began fantasizing this week about all of the fantastic and scary new things that will inevitably start happening to us in a year, I decided to ground myself with some reminders about things that I love about the life we're currently living. I want to make sure I remember these things, so here I go, e-emoting them to the cyberverse:
The gorgeousness that is October in Illinois, and our standing tradition of family walks to take pictures of the leaves after they've changed.
Multiple college town radio stations, making for epic car dancing sessions and a fun local music scene.
Laughing with friends about the funny business cards, ticket stubs, and notes left by strangers underneath the glass table covers at one of our favorite laid-back downtown hangouts.
The giddiness I feel after winter's first snow, and the fantastically spastic way J-dog greets it, as if on a snowflake high.
Having a kitchen big enough for impromptu family dance parties when we need to take a break from preparing dinner. J-dog can totally cut a rug.
Living on a college campus and not having to pay for wireless internet, cable, or indoor climate control.
Having a legitimate reason to wear galoshes, and purposefully seeking out deep puddles.
The fact that sharing one car between the two of us is not a big deal because the public transit system here is phenomenal.
Knowing that everyone in our building can smell what I'm baking.
Allow me to provide you with a window into our world...
Him: "Hey, do we have any pictures of me with my Snape haircut?" (referring to a time in college when he had long straight hair, which he died black. BEFORE he had ever read Harry Potter...)
Me: "Of course. I've photographically chronicled all of your hairstyle evolutions for the past 11 years." (that probably makes the top 10 list of things you wouldn't want to hear from your stalker...)
Him: "Right. Bummer."
Me: "I mean, how else am I going to dissuade our future children when they tell us they want to dye their hair purple? I'll just say, 'I don't care if all of your Wifflepods are doing it, look how well that kind of thing turned out for your father.'" ("Wifflepods" being my attempt at creating some futuristic slang version of "buddies")
Him: "Yeah, and then our kids will be like, 'Awww Mom, stop being such a galactic space bore!'"
Me: "...I'm glad we both still hold out hope that the future will be like The Jetsons."
There are only so many pieces of jewelry, watches, and chocolates molded into punny shapes (e.g. a "key to my heart") that can be purchased over the course of 11 Valentines Days before you start to run out of gift ideas. And truth be told, I have a track record for losing said jewelry. Eventually, you just need to figure out the best, most thoughtful and non-repetitive way to show your partner you love them. Some unexpected way to touch their heart, but in a manner that you know they'll remember.
Enter: Meat Martinis. Dr. D and I had decided that we'd save our Valentines celebrating for when we make our trip to the city this upcoming weekend. The inconvenience of V-Day falling on a Monday (and on a class night for me) was too much to attempt to brave the twitterpated crowds for a fancy dinner. I should have realized, though, that when we come to this kind of agreement, Dr. D rarely keeps his end of the bargain.
On Monday night, I came home from class and was greeted by the smell of bacon and a crazed poodle---driven mad by the smell, no doubt.
I found my loving husband in the kitchen, skillfully (and much more calmly and with less flesh-burning than I could ever muster) using the oven, stove, and toaster oven simultaneously to fix us a dinner of tapas. Fancy cheeses and accouterments, crostini, and bacon-wrapped asparagus.
And yes, slices of fillet mignon with caramelized onions in a balsamic reduction. Served in a martini glass. I'm sure you could not have found a happier and more in love person on the planet in that moment, as I double-fisted my meat martini and gigantic glass of homemade sangria.
I love this man.
Apologies to my vegan/veggie readers... I love you AND I love steak =/
Dr. D and I are now safe and sound in our Californian hometown for the Christmas season, although we somehow managed to bring the poor weather of the Midwest along with us. I don't really mind the rain so much, though, because I'm focusing on everything that this season and our hometown visits inevitably bring:
Mom's expertly decorated Christmas tree, complete with matching wrapping paper on the presents below---someone give this woman an interior design job, stat! She'd probably also settle for hosting a show on HGTV... just throwing that one out there for all of you television industry folks who are devoted readers of my blog.
Swapping music, youtube clips, and stories with my Hollywood-dwelling, drum-playing Broseph.
Lovin's from my other homedog, Old Man. (shh... don't tell J-dog)
Engaging in the extreme home sport that my father has coined "Power-Lounging," which consists of deftly flopping onto furniture for extensive relaxation sessions.
Fretting with Dr. D's mom on the sideline of intense impromptu living room wrestling matches between the boys (Dr. D, his dad ODP, and his little bro Six). Love manifests itself in many ways, folks.
Time spent with friends we've known for 15+ years, typically eating midnight donuts at our favorite 24-hour donuts shop (yes, there are multiple in town).
Driving around in my parents' '68 Mustang, looking cool but secretly hoping it doesn't break down on us.
Running into people from high school, which typically turns out one of three ways: (1) Awesome, (2) Pleasant, (3) Awk. Ward.
Dr. D is now officially 1/3 of the way through with his core rotations. That's two rotations down, ladies and gents!
He was really fortunate with this rotation. First off, he loved it (who knew?). I think it had something to do with the fact that he got to---
Now don't read this next part if you're squeamish, y'all.
---staple a woman closed after an emergency c-section on his first day. Yes, in the strange and twisted world of medical matrimony, this is something that the medically-inclined partner celebrates and the non-medical partner simply tries to smile and nod without setting off a gag reflex. The other great thing about this rotation was that Dr. D pretty much never had to serve on overnight call. That's a total anomaly for the Ob/Gyn rotation because, I'm not sure if you're aware, but babies come into this world whenever the heck they feel like it, completely ignoring business hours/common decency. Rude babies.
Ah, but I did just say Dr. D was "pretty much" never on call, because unfortunately the doc he was shadowing decided to cash-in yesterday, of course, on Dr. D's very. last. day. So anyway, he helped bring 5 babies into the world yesterday. They finally started wrapping up the baby-catchin' around 4:30 this morning, so needless to say, today was a day of naps for my darling husband. Tomorrow, he takes his Ob/Gyn shelf exam, and then it's on to surgery rotation next week. He's basically chomping at the bit for this next rotation...
You know, there should really be a better saying for that in this context. Itchin' at the scalpel finger? Scrubbed to the elbows? Cinched at the scrubs bottoms? I dunno. He's ready. That's all.
In other news, we just had a wonderful dinner from one of our favorite take-out places (I'd like to think of it as brain food for the shelf exam tomorrow morning), and I found this during our traditional post-meal fortune reporting:
"All decisions you make today will be most fortunate."
Yep. That's the same fortune Dr. D found in his fortune cookie on the day he proposed! How strange, I feel like I was talking about that only last week...
My week has become progressively more awesome since I started this whole TWIA thing. It seems like each day I have more and more trouble narrowing down exactly which "little thing" to feature.
For instance, today I took the afternoon off from work because it was the first day in a long time that my schedule wasn't completely packed. Awesome. And today is Friday, so that's innately awesome. Also, our friend Dr. S defended is dissertation this afternoon and we got to celebrate with him and eat delicious free food. All of these things are enveloped in awesomeness.
But the thing that made all those parts of my day awesome to the nth degree? The distinctly autumn feeling in the air, the fresh crunch of leaves on the ground, and the first day of my favorite month here in the Midwest: October.
Mmm... I love me some October. I think it's a perfect way to end my awesome week.
The little thing that I'm appreciating today isn't really so little when you think about all it encompasses. And truth be told, it's really always been a big part of our lives---for Dr. D and me---both individually and as a couple. We both grew up with parents who were passionate about it, and it was probably one of the biggest catalysts of our friendship as kids and eventual budding relationship as teens.
Today, I find myself thankful for the awesomeness that is music.
I'm not going to go all indie and music-elitist on you by dropping names of obscure bands and critiquing artists or arguing my points for "greatest band of all time ever in the history of any sounds ever made and--oh, you've never heard of them? that's because they're TOO GOOD FOR YOUUUUUuuuuuuuuuu..."
Gosh, that's just annoying.
No, instead I decided tonight to take a memory lane stroll through my CDs (what?! who still has those?) and mp3s (some from way back when Napster was free---a story I'll one day share with my grandchildren, no doubt) and remember to appreciate all of the memories and emotions that come along with them. Here are some musical memories that I found myself reliving tonight:
Taping songs off of the radio in the '90s, like Selena's "Dreaming of You" and that "I've Got the POWAHH!" song, then blasting them from my boombox repeatedly as I shot baskets on my driveway.
Buying a used CD of Salt-N-Pepa's Very Necessary at the age of 13 and spending an entire afternoon memorizing the lyrics to "Shoop"... and having no real idea what any of it meant.
Going through an entire phase in high school where I would only listen to Me First And the Gimme Gimme's punk rock covers. I can't imagine what my father must have thought the first time he heard their version of Paul Simon's "Me and Julio." Sorry, Dad.
The mixture of elation and fear-of-suffocation I felt, finding myself pinned between the stage barrier and a 17 year old Dr. D (who, bless him, was doing his very best to shield me from the bone-crushing mosh pit) as I rocked out at my first Foo Fighters concert. Dave Grohl sweated on me during a particularly violent head-banging sesh as he played "Stacked Actors." No big deal.
Walking through the desert dark amidst a glittering sea of plastic water bottles littering the ground in Indio, CA, after Spoon wrapped up the first day of my first festival concert experience. I can still remember the beautiful buzzing in my ears.
During my senior year of college: watching Jenny Lewis jump around stage in sequined gold hotpants, banging on a cowbell, and thinking, "I want to be her right now."
Waiting arm-in-arm with my father on a breezy summer day, listening to Sufjan Steven's "Chicago" on the garden air and watching some of the most important people in my life file into places, waiting for my turn to finally walk down that aisle. Thinking contentedly and joyfully, "Finally, this is where I am meant to be."
Really, music has shaped my experiences and memories innumerably over the years. And that's why revisiting some of those times has made this week especially awesome.
Anyway, I tossed a few of the aforementioned songs/artists in my handy little sidebar o' music. Enjoy.
