Guest Post #4: The Crafty Single Homeowner

I am so incredibly far aware from owning my home that it's almost embarrassing.  But this woman is not.

Meet Deb. Librarian, Blogger, and Crafty Homeowner

Deb keeps track of her crafting and home-owning over at The Crafty Single Female Homeowner  and she should definitely blog more. Her crafts (and library ideas) are the type that make me wish I had about 5% more craftiness in my bones so that my finished projects could look about half as good as hers. 

And because single librarians have to stick together (and because her family member lives in Pittsburgh) we met up for some single-librarian talk one Friday afternoon not too long ago over tea (both iced and hot). I can assure you she's as sassy and no frills as her picture suggests. She's a force to be reckoned with world, so watch out. I pretty much want to buy a house and have her sew accessories for it because you know I'll never be able to have a book shelf that looks like this:

She's an organized librarian. Me? Not so much.

So of course the organized, single, crafty and lover of fashion blogger wrote a list of numbers and things she has acquired. I keep meaning to get around to doing the same inventory, but am quite afraid at what I'd discover.

Deb's List of Things She has Acquired Through Single Life and Homeowner-ship:

Blogs I Subscribe to - 72
Minutes I drive to work each day- 65
Cardigans I own - 23 (then adjusted later to 24)
Nieces and nephews I have - 12
Countries I've visited - 12
Storytimes I do in a month -12
Years I played hockey - 11
Concussions I've had - 3
Years I've been a librarian - 3
Costumes I've sewn - 2
Boyfriends I've had - 2
Times I've been in love - 1

But there is more than numbers to Deb, so she did answer a few questions:

Q: What should readers know about you?
A: I'm a librarian by day, single female homeowner by night and weekend. I'm addicted to scarves with a fondness for tote bags. I only have 2 cats, so this does not make me the crazy cat lady. That's what I keep telling myself, at least. I've taken on some huge projects at my house and attack each one with relish and abandon. Just not expertise. In the last few years I've gotten quite good at not sweating the small stuff. I do sweat the big stuff.

I work for a living, but love what I'm doing. Really, my job is awesome. I get to dance with my thumbs up, shoulders back, bottom up, tongue out, eyes closed, and turning around. And then sometimes I roll around the floor like a steamroller. You should be jealous you don't have my job.

I'm also really good at coming up with projects to do (she swears embroidery is the perfect winter hobby). Researching random things. And making babies smile.

Q: Why do you blog?
A: I blog mostly because I am an over-sharer. I like everyone to know and see everything and be a part of my life. Maybe it comes from having too many years of being alone? Blogging makes me feel a part of something bigger.

Q: Since you are a librarian, and this is a librarian's blog, what book would you say belongs on every single girl's shelf?
A: My first instinct is Graceling. Because Katsa is a strong, independent female. Even when she becomes involved with Po, she maintains her independence and never once did she NEED him, she wanted him. I think that is what made this such a beautiful love story. As much as I love reading romances about characters who need something from each other (I'm looking at you, historical romance playing the "you can't inherit until you find someone to marry and produce heirs" card). Katsa and Po's story was so beautiful because it was their desire and respect for each other that drove their relationship. Plus Katsa takes names and kicks ass.

What other things is the crafty, single homeowner keeping track of?

Favorite Book Things: Hunger Games, Game of Thrones, John Sandford, The Secret Garden, historical romances, Graceling, Harry Potter

Favorite Movies and TV Things: True Blood, DIY Network, Game of Thrones, Downton Abbey, Sherlock, Project Runway, Teen Mom, Criminal Minds, Jeopardy, Wipeout, Modern Family, Community, Outsourced, The Princess Bride, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Bringing Up Baby, Harry Potter

Food Things: Italian, Greek, Tender Medium Rare Steaks, Garlic, Bread, Ice Cream, Greek Yogurt, Granola

Music Things: Susan Tedeschi, Lady Gaga, Neil Diamond, Kylie Minogue, 80s Hair Bands

Seriously, Deb puts my list-making to shame. Her ability kicks ass.


Letter #35: Things I Want You to Know, Part 8

Dear Long Hair
It's been quite a few years since this librarian could pull her hair up into a ponytail. I like how straight you can get in the morning. I love how easy it is to pin you back when the wind whips my face on a walk. It's good to have you back, but we have to get these split ends in control.

Dear Man at Starbucks (last seen before Christmas 2011),
I'm afraid I am going to have give you up. I haven't seen your head tattoo in months and we're well on our way into 2012 now. I think people sometimes mistake my interest in you as a anonymous crush. But in reality it's more of a curiosity. I'd like to sit down and here the tale of the spider crawling by your ear. I like to think that someone shares the covers with you at night. And perhaps you collect something silly. Not creepy like Precious Moments figurines. But maybe spoons from all of the National Parks you've been to. But until I see you again, I don't know if I have anything else to say.

Dear Eat N' Park Cookies,
You're terrible. And I know this is against Pittsburgh-religion to say this. But I just want it to be on record that I am not a fan. Yes, I'm looking at you, Smilie. Give me Frownie the Brownie anyday.

Dear The Voice,
You're not really my type. But I can't quit you. I love your positive attitude. I love that Carson Daly is relevant again. I love that Blake Shelton is just about the most attractive man on TV. I love that you aren't American Idol. I don't actually remember what nights you're on...but when I find you, I get giddy.

Dear Oxford Comma,
Why at 30 have I just started to realize you amazing persona? I'm finding myself using you more and more. And quite frankly, it's a little thrilling. You just make sense. Forgive me when I drop you. But you're quietly becoming a staple of my life, I do believe.

Dear March,
You're almost here. And I'm pretty excited. You just might be the calm before the storm that is April-May-June. I try not to have any expectations. But if you're looking for things to pack for your journey, perhaps you can bring: some hilarious times with friends, one amazing, evening with a lot of alcohol, a romantic date (keep in mind my standards of romance), a cute green outfit, and a new bed.


List #139: Hellas!

A much younger and thinner me on holiday in Naxos, Greece at Easter.

When I was younger I spent a year teaching English as a foreign language in Agrinio, Greece. I'm not Greek, I just fell in love with the country as an undergrad and wanted to leave the United States for awhile.* It was, without a doubt, the best year of my life.

Flash forward a few years that gloss over the Olympics, a Eurovision win, a Eurocup championship, my students growing older, Facebook bringing everyone together and a whole lot of other things...Greece has been in the news daily for what feels like an eternity. Because they are beyond broke and Athens is rioting and Europe is bailing them out. And it breaks my heart.

But here's the deal. I'm not an expert in economics. In fact, I'm not even a casual acquaintance who would wave hello to economics if it walked into the same coffee shop as me. Numbers and I just have a rocky relationship. So when I'm asked about the current state of Greek affairs, I'll just repeat a few things I heard on NPR, tell you to listen to this episode of This American Life, or talk about something I read in The New York Times. They can do a much better job of explaining what happened than I can. And really, we should all be searching for trusted resources.

But, like I have always been able to do, I can tell you tales of the Greek people. I can tell you about my students who are scared, their families who are trying, and bloggers who struggle and swell. I can point you to Twitter feeds to follow. I can show you photos.

Because at the heart of Greece, with and without their problems, are the people.   What did my year in Greece teach me about this ancient country and its people?

  • Greece has always known it was poor. My own lovely city didn't even get paved sidewalks until 1999. I was graduating high school in 1999 and Agrinio was paving roads. The shopkeeper sweeps his sidewalk twice a day not because he's bored, but because he has pride.
  • Tradition has deep roots. One of my favorite stories happened in March. When so many of my students began wearing thin red floss on their wrists. I asked why, for I had never seen this trend except on Kabbalah-Madonna. And every.single.student. told me that it was because it was tradition. And now they wouldn't get sunburned in the summer months. 
  • Greece has pride. When the 2004 Olympics swept the world and everyone wondered if Greece could pull it off, they had no doubt that they would. Sure, to award them the Olympics was probably a risky financial move. And yes, buying large, flat-screened televisions was a sign of a credit problem that was to come...but you better believe that everyone was watching every second of those games. Greece made sure Greeks were in every event, they made sure to televise each Greek match, and they made sure to go out onto the streets ask tourists if they preferred souvlaki on a stick or souvlaki on a pita. Because they wanted the world to know just how much amazing was housed inside their borders.
  • Greeks work hard. Yes, they may have an early retirement and much more vacation time than we could ever dream about in America. But that doesn't mean they are lazy. Students in Greece go to regular school during the day. Just like our students. But then they go off to private lessons at night. For English, physics, music lessons, math, many other languages and subjects. I taught students until 10pm every night. Even on Fridays. And we're not talking one lesson-one night. We're talking every lesson, every night. And Greek adults? They open and close their shops, they manage businesses, they learn multiple languages, they provide the vacations of your dreams.
No one gets in these types of situations by themselves. And no one gets out of them alone either.

And many thanks to my favorite Greek Blogger, Eleni, for posting this video on her blog first. 

 *I still want to leave the United States sometimes, it's just a lot harder to do the older you get. So my advice? Do it when you're young, don't plan too much, and disconnect from Facebook when you go....you'll have a much more enjoyable experience to look back on, trust me.


List #138: How to Be Robin Scherbatsky

This is Robin. She's the character on the How I Met Your Mother who isn't played by anyone extremely famous. The girl who who Ted Mosby stole a blue french horn for. The one broke Barney's player heart. And she's friends with Allan Thicke. 

What makes Robin?

  1. Know how to drink hard liquor smoothly. Order this after the crappiest of days. Or when you're really looking to get laid.
  2. Have one man completely in love with you and have him shout it from the streets. Entertain this man because he's vocal and exactly what you should want.
  3. Recognize that this man is exactly what you don't want. And be honest. 
  4. Be madly in love with your best friend. But fear that you're just another girl he wants to bang.
  5. Hide emotions. 
  6. Struggle with balancing your career and your personal life. Choose career over settling down.
  7. Be the All-American girl from Canada. In other words, struggle with your roots and don't close doors.
  8. Root passionately for your favorite hockey team. 
  9. Giggle when lying. 
  10. Let's Go to the Mall. Today. You know, that thing you never want people to discover.
  11. Feel that nothing in life is solid. And be scared shitless. But see number 5.
Am I like Robin? Definitely. Am I everything like her at this exact moment? No. But she's one of the most believable portraits of a single woman on television. And you could say that a few of the above 11 may describe this woman. At least at certain points in her life. 

I think I may need Robin to end up happy more than I need Ted to find his wife.

What about you, dear readers? Which television character speaks to your inner self? Share in the comments.


List #136: Bitter Hearts and Scared Wits

I spent a better portion of 2011 talking up how jaded and bitter I was in the love department. I wasn't just building walls, but I was digging moats, and drawing up the bridge. There was no way that I was going to open up my heart again. The whole process of being vulnerable, of feeling connected, of wanting to spend the night with someone for the sake of sleeping in bed suddenly seemed so foreign.

Then my fog started to lift. For a lot of reasons. But I could see the benefits of opening my heart. Just a bit. And dare I say, that sometimes it's hard to admit. And maybe more often than I would like, I panic at the thought of being hurt again. It's a risk; putting in effort and a whole lot of like and kisses and personal stories and all that other stuff. With nothing set in stone, with the possibility of disappointment, with the unknown just looming out there.

It's been pointed out a few times over the last couple of months that maybe I'm not truly bitter. I'm just scared. I'm insecure. I'm just as worried that it won't work out just as I am that it will. 

And I'm owning it. 

Reasons Why I am not as Bitter as I Say I Am (with a few reasons of why I'm scared mixed in):
  •  I believe that relationships and and love and everything in-between take hard work. Right from the beginning.
  • I will gladly spend an hour and a half of my time, the night before Valentine's Day, hand-stitching little heart-shaped packs of candy. Even if I don't actually like the holiday.
  • I say that I'm bitter, my voice cracks. And then get called out on my bullshit.
  • I'm shy when it comes to public displaying my affection. Because I'm scared of being pushed away.
  • I won't be able to admit it, but I'll me swooning deep inside the first night I sleep over without any sex. I really do just want to be able to wake up in the middle of the night and be inches away.
  • I believe words as they are said to me, no pretense or mystery. And hope that you believe mine.
  • I like to hear stories of the past because they brought us here. Opening up is an art.
So dear readers, are you bitter or just scared? There is more for me to write...but regardless of the emotions, I'm always cautious anymore.


Letter #34: Melodramatic Songs of Youth

There is no way that I could pretend that I am a big Whitney Houston fan. I'm not. But I was a child a of the '80s and have strong memories of belting out "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" to the record in my parent's living room.

And then of course, I was middle school-aged when The Bodyguard took over America. I think I have such a skewed vision of this time in my life. I was a sixth-grade Catholic school girl and this seems to me one of the biggest things in pop culture at the time (the other? that spring when The Sandlot was released). Of course I wouldn't actually see the movie in the theater (it was rated R, wasn't it? And I was a Catholic school girl, afterall). But oh boy, did my friends and I obsess over the soundtrack.

Obviously plenty of adults loved the movie and soundtrack too. But as a now 30 year-old, I still think the songs were made for middle-school love. Over-the-top, melodramatic, powerhouse ballads. The type of love song that makes it known that without this love, no love exists at all.

And this song in particular, the one that pop culture history will always associate with Ms. Houston, will never not remind me of my sixth grade crush. Someone I haven't thought about in years but now I'm thinking about every day as we are bombarded with the reminders of Whitney's life and musical legacy. 

So Dear B,

You weren't the first boy I fell for. I liked another B back in the fifth grade. But you were the new guy at school and how could I not fall for your vulnerable self. You were tall, dark, handsome and a bit of a jerk. And I was so young that I didn't know the warning signs of jerkiness yet. And was just willing to love you as is. 

I wanted to double-skate with you in a time in our life when we got out of school early for all-school roller skating parties. I wanted my mood ring to always be blue when I was in your presence. I wanted you to like me without knowing that I still played with Barbies and slept with a blanket. I thought this type of love would go on forever, but I don't even think roller rinks exist anymore. 

I wish there was more to say to you. But after we left the halls of our small Catholic grade school, I stopped thinking about you. It wasn't hard to let go of a boy who snapped my bra straps infront of 30 other classmates and made fun of me and my family every chance he got. 

Neither of us were even aware, as we sat in the same classroom with desks that had surely been around since the 50s, that we were just beginning to figure out what types would be "our types." Believe it or not, you were my first and only jock crush. I never fell again for a guy who liked to play sports or went on to attend college on an athletic scholarship. But when we ran into each other, years later at an even for our same-aged brother and sister, you sought me out in the bleachers. You were the one who wouldn't leave me side and I got the feeling that you were just beginning to fall for the geeky girls in glasses, started to appreciate the curves a good bra can support, and might have begun to fall for my "type" of girl. 

Wherever you are now, B. I hope when you hear Whitney Houston, you think about the sixth grade too. Maybe you remember the girls who so blindly fell in love with you in the way that only a sixth grader can. And smile.


List #135: Make Me Laugh

A sense of humor is a key component to my version of a great man. I want someone who has a laugh that is infectious. I want him to think my laugh is adorable. And I want us to make each other laugh all of the time.

So it should come as no surprise that some of my biggest celebrity crushes are funny men. Yes, I get slightly weak-kneed for Ryan Gosling. But give me a man who would be slightly awkward if it wasn't for his impecable sense of humor and you'll see me at full swoon.
Seth Myers
Head-writer for SNL. Steelers fan. Bikes for Cancer while making funny jokes about current events. I want to drink a few beers with Seth Myers and sing along to Steelers Playoff songs. We can go to Primanti's and then I'd take him to the Heinz History Center and teach him facts about our favorite city. But Brenna has dibs on Seth. She's much more into sports than I am and actually lives in New York City. 

So instead, I'll suggest a double date with Seth and Brenna, if he brings along:
Jason Sudekis
So maybe he is dating Olivia Wilde, quite possibly in the top 5 most annoying women in Hollywood, but I still can't help but crushing. Even when he is being Mitt Romney on Saturday Night, I just want to bring him home, cuddle up on the couch, and read together. Plus, his uncle is Norm from Cheers. Think of how much fun Thanksgiving could be.

Or maybe, if the above two are busy.
Horatio Sanz
I don't even know what I would do with Horatio Sanz. But I actually have a slight suspicion that might me laugh until my stomach and cheeks hurt. Oh, the beard.

So men of my life, take note. You should be good a ribbing a little. I can handle some well-natured jokes at my own expense. Just don't cross the line and start telling me how I think I should do my job and run my life. You should laugh a tiny bit when I repeat a corny joke heard from an 7-year old. But not too much. And your version of funny should also include some political humor, and not rely too heavily on the gags and practical jokes.

I'm looking forward to learning your laughs. And can't wait to share mine.


Letter #33: To My Valentine

Dear Future Valentine,

You're probably going to consider yourself pretty lucky when it comes to Valentine's Day because it's not one of my favorite holidays and I won't put any pressure on you to come up with a grand romantic plan. My un-love for Valentine's Day has always been around, trust that it's not just founded in love scorned and bitter memories. But you'll have caught on pretty quickly that I'm a simple girl with unpretentious taste. So none of this will be news to you.

But yet you'll completely understand when I dress in reds and pinks and put a little heart pin on my cardigan. You'll poke fun of my job, but actually take a little pride in the fact that you're woman is a librarian.

When we both come home from a long day at work. A day where I spent my time reading stories about a frog's first kiss and counting a large number of hearts with preschoolers. And a day where you spend your time watching office ladies display large bouquets of roses on their desk. We'll have no other option than to order Chinese take-out and eat on the floor of the living room as we declare our mutual love of Ron Swanson, once again.

There won't be any major gifts, but you should learn to expect some type of craft I whipped up in the afternoon. Maybe it will involve your favorite candy, or perhaps it will just include a lot of glittery stickers. But either way, it will be yours. With a little message written especially for you.

And when we get to bed, probably a little after midnight, I'll notice a card sitting on my pillow. It wasn't there in the morning, but perhaps you put it there after I left. Or maybe as I was brushing my teeth before bed. A card because you know I like words more than fancy dinners. And because you also know that my Hallmark-employee youth still hasn't fully washed away. No matter the type of card though, your words written inside will be the best thing.

And we'll kiss. Tell each other a funny a story. And sleep.

Until that Valentine's Day.




Guest Post #3: Haaave You Met Brenna?

Internet, this is Brenna. She's the girl sitting next to you in a bar yelling the loudest when the Pens score a goal or when Big Ben gets sacked. She crushes hard on professional sports players but don't make the mistake in thinking that this girl only cares about the hottest quarterback (hint: it's not Tom Brady). Her sports knowledge runs deep and chances are, she'll crush you in trivia.

Like Bri, I first met Brenna here:

Newton Observatory, Allegheny College, Meadville, PA
A lesser photographed spot on campus
We were on the dance team together, sorority girls together (different sororities once again. Do none of my Kappa sisters blog?), quit dance team together and got more than tipsy at the SportsGarden together.  And then we moved here together:

Corinth, Greece
Though we did not live in ruins, but in a tiny apartment that overlooked Agrocorinth. But that, dear readers, is an entirely separate story.

And now Brenna bleeds black and gold finding her way through New York City, all while trying to find her own version of Ted Mosby.  If you haven't caught on, she even named her blog after the forever romantic character.

Q1: What should readers know about you?
A: I believe every woman should own a pair of red high heels. I could eat Thai food every single meal. I think Kelly Clarkson sings break up songs better than anyone on the planet. I wish Chuck Bass and Schmidt were real people. And nothing makes me happier than a good bottle of red wine and a Penguins win.

Q2: Why do you blog?
A: I've always processed my feelings best through writing. I kept a journal up through most of college and kept my sanity during the most awful moments of going through a divorice by writing emails to parties involved that (mostly) went unsent. I started my latest blog when I was feeling kind of crappy about being single, and thought I could at least entertain some readers by working through my insecurities and stories about being single in Manhattan. 

Q3: Since you write a dating blog, and this is a librarian's blog, which fictional character would you most like to date? Why?
A: Peeta Mellark...if he were at least 10 years older. He's tough and sweet and caring and intelligent. He's also unabashedly romantic. Wouldn't you like to someone to declare his love for you to an entire nation, even if it was right before you were suppose to kill each other? Also, he only has eyes for Katniss...

And so, Brenna's Goodbye Letter to Love Lost But Never Really Had:

They say timing is everything, and I used to think that was silly. You can control timing, somewhat. You can wait until the timing is better, or you can fix the things that make the timing bad. Very few things are outside the realm of your control, at least once you decide to do something about them. 

I don't think I believe that anymore.

What I believe is now that had we met a year or two later, we'd be dating. We wouldn't have had the people or circumstances around us that we did then. We'd hit it off at a bar - we'd probably argue about sports - and you'd shyly ask me for my number. You'd wait the appropriate amount of days - I bet you're a wait three days kind of guy - and then ask me out, and our first date would be something like pizza or wings or a baseball game. I'd spend the night making of Tom Brady's hair; you'd remind me the Steelers lost to Tim Tebow. You'd walk me to the subway, or put me in a cab, and you'd kiss me goodnight, and I'd have butterflies the entire way home.

As fate would have it, we didn't meet last weekend. We met a couple of years ago, surrounded by messed up people in messed up situations. Neither of us really had it all together, and so we kept dancing around each other, making mistakes and bad decisions, drunken phone calls and text messages, and existing on the edge of something but never really diving in. And before we knew it, it had been two years, and it was old, and something had to to give. 

I didn't want to have to do this. I held out hope for so long that you would just get it together and stop being stupid and realize that the spark we have doesn't happen every day. I wish you'd realized that it wasn't too late. I wish I could have told you I never stopped thinking you were genuinely a good person deep down, even though all my friends did. I wish you'd realized that I wasn't going to wait around forever and had done something about it.

So when you texted me last week, I didn't reply and I hit delete. I can't do this anymore. It's been going on for far too long. I've spent too many nights crying over you, and you don't deserve that from me. I can't go halfway with you. I've tried to stay friends and push my feelings to the side, but I've realized I just can't function like that, and so I have to cut you off completely. And that makes me really sad.

Whether you realize it or not, you were instrumental in getting me through the most awful period of my life. You were the distraction I needed when the world was crumbling around me. You were someone I looked forward to seeing, and your chats kept me company during late, lonely nights. Regardless of what we happened next, I will always be grateful to you for that.

I'm going to miss you like crazy. We haven't talked that much lately, but when we did, I smiled. The conversation flowed easily. There were no awkward silences. I'm going to miss your hugs, and your eyes, and the few times I got to kiss you, because dammit, they were good kisses. I'm going to miss arguing with you most, because that's when the sparks really flew, even though I recognize that no healthy relationship has ever been built from two people who like to argue with each other.

I wish the circumstances and timing had been different. I wish we could have existed in a vacuum without anyone else interfering. I wish we'd had a little more time living in the same state. And even as I'm writing this, I wish you'd call me and tell me that you screwed up and wanted to start over today, with the lives we're living now, surrounded by these people and these situations instead of those two years ago.

I'm pretty sure I'll see you again down the road. Fate isn't kind enough to me to let me off that easy. I hope it's far enough in the future that we've both found people who make us happy without any complications. I hope we can sit down over a beer and laugh about how silly we used to be.


List #134: Things I've Discovered Recently

  • There really is a Pawnee Library
  • A French librarian coined the word"pornography."
  • Nsync continues to remain the best half-time Super Bowl performance and Twitter agrees:

  • Sometimes work gets in the way of my hopes to blog a proper post on a Monday morning.


Letter #32: Things I Want You to Know, Part 7

Dear Sarris Chocolate,
News broke this morning that your building is on fire. And I hope that the damage isn't too bad and soon business up and running again. You're a Pittsburgh staple, home of one of my favorite memories of my grandfather, a place where I know I can always find Satellite wafers and magical chocolate castles. I might just have to buy a few chocolate pretzel candy bars today and squirrel them away. This city needs you.

Dear Brian Williams,
You really the news' best man. I'd really like you to a program where you just read books on TV. Or you know, come to my library and do that. Should have arranged it when I saw you on the streets during the G20. Oh, missed opportunities. Scott Pelley, and his watery eyes (can we get an explanation on this) has nothing on you. 

Dear Belts,
Thank you for cinching my waist at the right spot. You make having curves a little easier and flattering. And I think we both love it when someone's hands go right curves and softly trail down and rest on the hips.

Dear Man at Starbucks (MIA),
I think I've given up on running into you early in the morning. Maybe your schedule has changed, maybe you're living and working in a different part of town. Whatever the reason, I've come to not look for your spider in the long Friday lines. Instead, I just seem more in tune to the city's head tattoos: hockey games, on the street, at the mall. I had no idea this was a trend. Yours will always be the best though.

Dear Superbowl,
I have to admit, you're not really high on my anticipation list with teams like the Patriots and Giants playing. In fact, it's kind of hard for me to imagine a worse match-up. But that doesn't mean I won't be winning. Of course the only time where my excitement is at a peak is when it's a Steelers Super Bowl, but I believe in sharing and we can't be there every year. But do me one little favor? Stop leaking the commercials on the web before Sunday night. It's just taking some fun out of it. And really, no one cares about Madonna anymore...bring back NSync, Nelly, and Aerosmith. That was a combination.


Brassy Librarian


List #133: The In-Between Girl

Sometimes I wish I was a songwriter. The girl with the glasses and guitar, wearing skinny jeans and dyed red hair, on stage softly singing powerful songs about all that's been won and lost in life. But I have have no singing voice and I couldn't read sheet music if my life depended on it. Plus, I never did learn to play an instrument other than the 4th-grade recorder.

Because no matter what I may write here, it doesn't quite pack the punch like this does:
And I know it's not a new song, it's been in my iTunes catalog for years now, but a friend who knows me better than many sent it my way last night. Just a link in an email, with nothing else, because they knew. And if I had those song writing powers, what would my song be about?

Maybe I would sing:
  • About struggling with letting go of her own caution. And how hard it can be to let go of control when she had to struggle to keep it all in control for so long.
  • A ballad to the those married couples who seem to forget how hard it is on the single fun-side of the fence.
  • About the balance of a career woman and how waking up in the middle of the night thinking about work goes back and forth between being a dream and a nightmare.
  • A lullaby to the dreams of men gone by without much of explanation. Heartbreaking without being gut-wrenching. 
  • About the woman who has inkling she just might be the one everyone wants to f*ck but no one wants to marry.
  • An epic about paying bills and putting off vacations. Filled with tales of medical stories and aging parents and the solitary moments that go along.
  • About the orgasms that shook her body to the exiles of bliss and then another all about the ones that weren't. 
  • A pop anthem to all of those married and old men who peer down the shirt a little too long as if her unattached body was open for all to enjoy.
  • About the fear that maybe she just doesn't recognize the truth. And the panic that arises when it seems as if time is running out, she just didn't get the memo, and that maybe she is destined to escape the affairs and divorces and sexless nights and children by just staying single. 
  • An indie hit about the power of a good black dress and a high pair of heels. How the tall girl can walk into a room and know that at least 3 people want to make out with her in the corner and how at least 1 person thinks she has it all together.
So dear readers, if you were writing a song today? What would you want to shout at the top of your lungs? 

But you can bet that I'd want to use a retro microphone to complete the look of it all. 


List #132.5: 29 Things to Love

Rabbits. Rabbits.

So welcome, February. The cruelest month, despite poet's opinions. So thank goodness for your brevity. Even with an additional day, a leap year gift, the month can't last forever. I've got that nervous-excitement about you, February. Because I'm happy yet feeling overwhelmed with commitment. Good things are on the horizon and life has a little haze of rose around it right now. I'd like the haze to become a glow.

And because I refuse to the let February's reputation of sadness, cold and defeat even think about entering my world. And because February is simultaneously known for love. I give you today's list...

 Of 29 things I love.

1. Wearing Pink. And fitting in with a theme without seeming like a primary school teacher.
2. Soup. Because what else fills the gut and warms the soul.
3. High heels. You can't stop the pretty.
4. Babies trying to feed you their dinner. It just never stops being adorable and funny.
5. Forgiveness. It's just a lot easier than being angry.
6. Blankets. No matter the temperature, on a winter night they make all the difference.
7. Friendships. The friends in my life never stop amazing me.
8. Chai. The hearty tea that fills me without a breakfast.
9. Tea. I'm not too picky, I just appreciate a warm pot.
10. My family. Bumps and bruises included.
11. New. Despite the appearance, I like discovering this path.
12. Compromise. In its truest form, it's actually not that hard to do.
13. Warm Weather. For each day, it's a little victory against winter.
14. Kisses. No one can ever truly get tired of making out.
15. Umbrellas. They should be a bright reflection of you, popping out against gloom.
16. Being better than those who have come before. If we try, then I do think that's half the battle.
17. Being unrecognizable. I love seeing people I've known from the past and they can't identify me.
18. Presidents who can sing Al Green. No reason for a vote, but definitely one for a smile.
19. Myself. What more needs to be said about this.
20. Sales. Thank you for occurring more than twice a year.
21. Long-sleeved dresses. Making winter wear sexy and warm.
22. Corsets. The lingerie made for a curvy girl.
23. Storytime crafts. And the little hands that need my approval before they leave.
24. Super Bowl Commercials. Without the Steelers, they could be the best thing about the game.
25. Possibility. There is more positive floating around out there than negative.
26. Banjo. My favorite instrument that makes songs better.
27. Blank spaces. To fill in what is missing and to discover what belongs.
28. Earrings. The only piece of jewelry I never want to go without.
29. Leap Year. To be grateful for one more day.

So dear readers, as we start the second month of the year...tell us, what do you love?