Run...

Those who have known me for a long time know that once upon a time, I was a runner. My freshman year in college I was goofing around in the first snow of the season in Grand Rapids, Michigan and broke my ankle. I wish I could say it was a simple fracture, but the truth was that I literally shattered the joint and couldn't even walk for longer than I can even believe. For years my ankle was weak and even with physical therapy, I was left with seriously curtailed range of motion. I really, in some aspects, have never been the same.

At the time of the accident, I was a pretty physically active person. I enjoyed running, riding my bike and skiing. After the accident, all of these things were very painful to me and usually ended up in further injury due to compensating for my less than perfect ankle. I really haven't run in any serious way since then. I have missed it all these years. When I think of who I am, part of who I think I am is a runner. I still think I am a runner. Today for a short time, I was a runner.

I am always afraid of breaking into a run because of the pain that it frequently involves. I have been busy with school and more out of shape than ever lately. Today at the gym, I was warmed up and walking at a good speed and with a steep incline and when I lowered the incline and upped the speed, I kind of thought, "Why not?" What was the worst thing that would happen. I might fall. I might not be able to handle the pace. The worst thing that did happen was that I immediately noticed the extra weight I have been carrying.

In a heartbeat, or a few hundred, I felt like a runner again. I immediately found my stride and my old running posture felt like a friend. I like the feeling of pushing myself further than I think I can go. I like crawling up into the far recesses of my brain to find that extra bit of strength to get me through. I am very good at moving through pain. I realized today that I can run again.

Two seconds after this realization, my dream of one day running a marathon also came springing back to life. I thought of Bubs' sad experience this past year, but I also thought of another friend's positive experience a few years ago. At 43, I am not ready to give up on my long held dream. I'm a girl who likes a project and a challenge. It's what I live for.

So here's the deal. I really want to run a marathon. It's early in the season and I do think I could be ready by next fall. The thought of seriously being a runner again makes me giddy. Keep in mind that I ran today in walking shoes and those suckers are heavy! I can do this. I want to do this. I'm not sure yet how I am going to balance this with school when it starts again, but I'm tired of being unhealthy and I desperately miss running. I'm putting this out there so that people will check in with me and make sure I'm not slacking. I want to bring back that part of who I am. I want to hear that gun go off. I want to run.

The Belly of Winter

The holidays are over, the first few beautiful snows have come and gone. The temperatures have hit rock bottom. Is it any wonder that many of us start to feel a little uneasy this time of year? Even though T S Elliott has said that April is the cruellest month, I have always felt that February is far worse. There really is no promise of spring yet. Winter is growing old. The lack of sun starts to take its toll on the collective psyche of the metropolitan area, leaving most people a little crankier and sullen than usual. When I think of Chicago, I think of people with a big warm smile, but not so much in February. This is the month that I wonder why people don't hibernate. I'm jealous of bears. I want nothing more than to curl up under a pile of blankets and stay there until the sun moves further north and the world is a little brighter again.

Start Making the Dream a Reality Today

I don't know about any of you, but screw Mardi Gras this year. I am so much more excited to go vote and begin changing America. I know I only have one vote and that this is only the primaries, but today I feel like I can have a hand in reclaiming our country. It's finally happening.

Despite All My Rage I Am Still Just a Rat in a Cage

Can't think of a more fun way to spend a weekend than to have multiple observers while you do therapy. I'm in the process of getting an additional certification for my job and today I got to try out the new therapy technique with one of my clients while several people watched from another room. In all honesty, in many ways it really doesn't fluster me at all, I just hate the idea of it. I have no real fear of failing in front of others in part because I know that therapy is such a crap shoot anyways. Each kid is different and every day is different and depending on who is in what kind of mood, sometimes you are just more successful than others. It's a harsh reality, but it's the truth.

So this new therapy shows a lot of promise, but in some ways I feel like I am being reined in a bit too much. A lot like my experience with religion, I have a hard time really feeling like anything is the be all and end all in the world of therapy. I have learned to trust my years of experience and my knowledge of the child. So, to be hobbled by one particular approach is a bit difficult. Even though I claim to be an ABA practitioner, my boss likes to call what we do "enlightened ABA." This essentially means that if something isn't working, fix it.

I guess in some ways I don't mind being poked at and stared at as long as it gets me closer to having a better solution for my clients. I have a lot of questions for our teacher tomorrow. I get critiqued in the morning and I hope I learn something. Later in the day I get to do my best rat impression again. Sometimes I wonder if my clients feel the same way.

Another Year Older and Closer to Death

Mr. Ten S and I will be at Exit tomorrow night where they will be spinning '80's and industrial music upstairs from about 10 until we tip over. Just wanted a chance to hear the music that I love REAL LOUD for my birthday this year. Love to have you join us! Let me know if you're thinking about heading over, so I can save a chair for you!

5 Things I Had No Clue About When I Was 25

While it often seems that time flies, when I think about being 25, that was a LONG time ago. So thanks to Bubs, I am supposed to come up with five things that I didn't expect to be in mylife when I was 25.

1. Being Married to Mr. Ten S-When I was 25, we had just barely started dating. Although I did like him a whole lot, I had no idea that we would be spending our lives together.

2. Attempting Graduate School Twice-Because apparently once was not enough for me. I almost finished a MS in Communication Disorders, but then kids and life set me on a slightly different path. I think I always knew though that I would not be satisfied with myself until I completed a Master's degree, hence, round two.

3. Losing My Mom-My dad is a full ten years older than my mom and I think everyone in my family just assumed that we would lose dad first. Not that I wished death on either one of them, but it was a shock when my mom got sick and it is the one thing that has changed me more than I could ever tell anyone in words. I am not the same person. I will never be the same person again. I'm OK, just very different. Unless it has happened to you, you will never understand what I am saying even if you try.

4. Being Around For a Naked Raygun Reunion-Come on. I had to lighten it up. I love Naked Raygun. You all know that. It goes far beyond just liking the music. These are great guys in a band that to me is part of my hometown and part of who I am and how I identify myself. I was sad when they did a reunion when I lived in California and feared I would never see them live ever again. I had no idea that when I contacted Jeff Pezzati on a whim and a dream to play my 40th birthday party that it would buy me a frontseat to their reunion and a rekindling of a friendship that I now treasure.


5. Two Kids That Amaze Me-Although I think I always knew I would have kids, I never really dreamed about who they would be. From the very beginning I have tried to not impose expectations on them and to let them unfold as their own person. By doing this, I am constantly amazed and surprised by them. Sweetness is an interesting and artistically talented girl with an old soul. Bink is crunchy on the outside with a gooey center that is all love sprinkled with curiosity.

I couldn't have asked for more and I have more than I ever imagined in many ways. Loss has taught me to appreciate every moment with every person. Distance has taught me to appreciate my hometown. Struggle has taught me to appreciate the moments of calm. I consider myself a very fortunate person. I have done many things that I wanted to do. I love and feel loved. I know who I am.

Important Update!

I look like this again! Because I am Tenacious S, I tracked down my professor just so I could get an explanation of the grade. I wasn't going to accept this easily. She emailed me almost immediately and was full of apology because she said that when she printed out my paper the last six pages didn't print. WTF? As if I would write an impeccable paper and then just not write a Summary or a Reference section. Well, thank goodness my tenacity paid off. My grade is now the A it should have been all along. I knew it! Back in the hunt for Magna Cum Laude. Or not.

I feel a little bad that I have been a blog slacker lately. The good news is that I actually have been busy working and having a life. Saw Eddie clearwater last night at Bill's Blues in Evanston, which is owned by our friend. I hung out, heard great music and drank until I literally fell off my chair. That's when I decided it was time to go home. See? I really am smart!

This is What I Look Like When I Am a Little Angry

I just found out today that I got a B in my last class. I am not happy. I am especially not happy because I worked harder and longer on that term paper than any other. It virtually ruined Christmas for our family. I deserve an A for the sacrifice alone! Further irritating me is that I was given a grade with no explanation of anything. Last I checked, I was still getting an A. What the hell happened? This is exactly why I hate grad school. This is what I remember from last time.

Last time I was in school, I had to drive well over an hour to get there. One semester I drove all the way down to pick up a copy of our take home final only to find out that the professor hadn't made enough copies and that she was nowhere to be found. Mind you, this was before the days of email. I had to *&%$$%%% drive back two days later to get a copy and then had two days less to complete the stupid thing.

What I remember is that if you didn't read your professor right, you could have your grade lowered just because they never really articulated what it was they were expecting. I followed the rubric exactly for this paper. It was edited over and over again. It was plenty long and well supported. I just want to know at this point what I did wrong so I don't do it again.

In a way, as irritated as I am, it is a blessing in disguise. I no longer have a prayer of Magna Cum Laude. That was a ridiculous pressure I was putting on myself. I guess now maybe I'll be a little more relaxed about this. I'm not perfect. My grades aren't perfect. Oh well.

I am even happier that I am taking this quarter off. I probably needed a little perspective. Towards the end, I kind of felt like I was on a runaway train with no hope of controlling it or stopping it. It was a bad ride. Maybe when I go back I'll be able to enjoy it a little more. I am learning lots of cool stuff and all that matters in the end is that I get my degree and get on with my life.

Seven Things You Don't Know About Me (But Lulu Might)

I always feel a little weird writing these types of posts. I think part of it is because I am not a particularly secretive person and have a tendency to just blab whatever comes to mind with little filter. So, are there seven things you don't know? Let's find out. Thanks to Flannery for hooking me up with the ability to potentially embarass myself.

1. I have a few vivid memories from when I was two. I've been told that not many people have memories from when they were that young. Bink, my son, also has very early memories. What this means or if this is of any benefit, I don't know.

2. I named my first cat Tabitha, after the girl on Bewitched. We later found out it was a boy and changed his name to Charlie.

3. I punched a hole in the wall of the duplex I lived in during my junior year in college. The guys who lived on the other side would not stop playing Night Ranger and I was in full Bauhaus mode at that time. Yup. I hate Night Ranger that much.

4. I preferred playing with GI Joe to Barbie, which made my childhood friend Laura cry more than once because I ran off to play with her brothers. I never really liked girls' toys very much. Unlike Flannery, I didn't want to be a boy, but I preferred their company.

5. The first few times I DJed at the college radio station I refused to talk. My friend, Jeanne, did the shift with me, so I would spin the records and do all the technical stuff and Jeanne would talk. It didn't last very long. I ended up liking it and spent far too much time at the station before it was all said and done. It's a minor miracle I graduated college.

6. Being a big fat chicken probably saved my life once. I went on a wilderness trip to the mountains in southeast Colorado when I was in high school. While we were there, we went on several rock climbing excursions. Because there was a large number of us climbing, those who reached the top and were waiting were clipped into an anchored ring for obvious safety reasons. When I reached the top, I was supposedly clipped in with everyone else. A bunch of people were getting silly and were running for the edge of the cliff, only to get yanked back when they ran out of rope and were anchored. Almost everyone did this. I hate heights and it was a amazing that I even managed the climb, so I clearly chose not to participate in this game. I found out as we were leaving that they had made a mistake with my ropes and I wasn't clipped in like the rest of them. I would have gone sailing off the edge of the cliff.

7. I have almost zero knowlege of primetime TV from my younger years. My parents were very strict both with what we could watch and how much we could watch. I really only remember Flipper, Little House on the Prairie, some Waltons, The Muppet Show and Emergency (which I lived for since I thought that Randolph Mantooth/Johnny Gage was totally hot). So if you all refer to retro TV shows, I haven't a clue.

Seems like lots of folks have already done this, so I'm only going to tag Lulu. Anarchy!

Really Important Announcement!!!!

Just noticed that none other than the New York Dolls are playing at the Double Door on Saturday, February 23. I think this may need to be an event!

A New Leaf

As the new year unfolds, I find myself thinking more and more about what I can do to make this world a better place in the coming year. I have often thought about getting one of the local farm delivery bushels, but I live in a house with one very picky eater in it and worry that some would go to waste, as the selections are made for you. I don't really have the money to buy food that will go unused and, well, it kind of seems like it would defeat the purpose. So I started searching around for alternatives and I think I have arrived at a couple. I've long known that there is a local poultry seller in neighboring Glenview. I pass nearby at least once a week in my travels. We eat a lot of chicken. Today I was cheered even further by the discovery of a local market that sells mainly local produce. Even better, it is an independent business, which I prefer to patronize. Best yet, it's no further than I used to travel to another store that I frequented, so I don't feel like I'll be burning tons of fuel to get there.

Time off of school has given me the chance to reflect that I kind of didn't have time for in the past year or so. I'm hoping I can start some new habits during these three months off that will carry me through the rest of my schooling with myself, my family and our impact on the planet in better shape. We have already gone on a "lights off" campaign and I have taught the kids to turn off the lights while proclaiming, "Save the polar bears." I know we have only begun to make some changes, but we are all mindful of the consequences and I think that's a good place to start.

Friday 10, Better Late Than Never

1. Give Me Novacaine-Green Day
2. Highwire Days-Psychedelic Furs
3. Funk Pop A Roll-XTC
4. Save It For Later-The English Beat
5. The Mule-Naked Raygun
6. Falling Forward-The Methadones
7. Gary's Got a Boner-The Replacements
8. Pump It Up-Elvis Costello
9. Bright Fresh Flower-Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians
10. Green Gloves-The National

After a long absence from the Friday 10, I've returned. My only comment is that there was no monkey business regarding the connection between #7 and #8. I swear. Happy Friday!

Wherein Tenacious S Realizes That Being OCD Pays Off

As Lulu has recounted, we had a lovely evening a couple of days ago sitting around, saying nothing and listening to records on my new turntable. While there is a turntable in our house (which technically is mine),but after fourteen years of marriage has become community property and lives in Mr. Ten S's office, I really don't use it that often since my records are down in the basement, three floors down. So sitting around with Lulu and playing albums at whim and request was quite a treat for me.

What you need to understand is that my albums are my babies and always have been. I remember getting really frosty when my high school boyfriend upon our breakup suggested that I listen to The Police's "I Can't Stand Losing You." In this song it talks about returning LP's and that they got scratched up in the hands of the borrower. While he was equally OCD, encasing each record in the special anti-static/anti-scratch inner sleeve and every album in a clear plastic outer sleeve, the insinuation that I had scratched a record was just fuel for the breakup fire.

Lulu can vouch for me when I say that my albums are for the most part, aside from cat hair from past kitties being stuck inside every single album I opened, pristine. The covers just as vibrant as day one. The lyric sheets in perfect shape. The vinyl itself with no blemishes visible to the naked eye. While over the years I have been mocked from time to time about my OCD tendencies when it comes to the care and keeping of these albums (they are filed alphabetically and chronologically within each band), I am glad I was a twitchy lightswitch licking freak that obsessed about them. Years later I am the proud owner of a lovely album collection that brings me great joy and pride. And now, I will go take my medication. *twitch*twitch*

Merry Christmas, Everybody!

Hope everyone has had a wonderful Christmas. Thought I'd spread some of the silly cheer we enjoyed today. For a second year in a row, Santa was very good to me. Those who know me, will know that Santa is a mind reader and knew that I would get tons of enjoyment from this:




I know I'm off school for the next few months, but if I seem absent, you'll know I'm ripping and burning, baby! Finally, my beloved vinyl will be available to me 24/7. Oh, the possibilities! In the car, while I study, at the gym... I'm going digital! Merry Christmas, everyone. I do love you all.

How Much Has Changed?

In 1984, one of my good friends gave us all a copy of this EP (I'll explain on request for those too young to understand) for Christmas. When I look back, this was the year my eyes opened. I saw the world beyond mine. I signed petitions for Amnesty International, I subscribed to the Christian Science Monitor to get news outside our media. I wrote the piece for Africa in our college paper. I knew what was going on. Again, how much has changed? Change the name of the nation. Change the name of the specific issue. How much smarter are we? Merry Christmas to all.

Master Illusionist

Apparently David Blaine is going to attempt to set a world record for sleep deprivation. Ha, ha, sucker! I started first and I'm gonna beat you!

Deer in Headlights Vol. II

Once again I find myself in the unenviable condition of having a large (25 pages) paper due on Friday afternoon and exactly two sentences written. I can't seem to find my way into my writer's mode. I know once the switch flips, I'll word vomit almost ten pages immediately, but I can't seem to make it happen. I predict several sleepless nights this week. This only makes me more happy that I am taking the next quarter off. I just have lost the will to do this for now. I'm so distracted by my life that I can't make school the main focus. And right now, it shouldn't be either. Christmas will have to wait until Friday at 5. That's when I will be released from the prison of grad school for a little vacation. I'm itching to get out, but I have one hell of a roadblock right now. Send good thoughts and any writer's tips if you have any, 'cuz I'm fresh out of inspiration right now.

This One Goes to 11

If I have a fault in life, it's that I don't know how to stop. Thank you, Anandamide, for recogonizing and appreciating my achilles heel, I mean, my finest feature. There's nothing I love more than winning a contest. Well, maybe getting an "A" on my schoolwork, but you get the point.

Two For Tuesday

OK, I'm a bit scattered in general and I kind of forgot I was trying to do a weekly feature. Welcome to my life. This is normal. Anyhow, the idea of this two'fer is supposed to be something old and something new. I'll start with the new.



THE NATIONAL-Slow Show

I think they feel like an old comfortable pair of shoes, a pair that apparently sings and plays lovely music. Yeah. That's it. Anyhow, I haven't had enough time to really absorb them completely, but on first drive-by they remind me of...



NICK CAVE AND THE BAD SEEDS-Do You Love Me

Somthing about the atmospheric deperateness in the sound of these two bands. It's retro yet timeless. A heartbreak in slow motion, your breath crystallizing in the air as you walk down the street at night, the loneliness of a big city.

Smooth Sailing

I know this isn't totally new, but thought some of you might appreciate the tongue in cheek humor of the Yacht Rock series. While I would venture to say that this music is about the antithesis of what I listen to, I love watching these hilarious skits. There are ten of them and worth an hour of your time. So, grab a Pina Colada, your captain's hat and sail away with the Yacht Rock experience. Happy Friday!

Revenge

The last two weekends have been a bit of a blur. Last weekend, although I had planned on going two days, I was limited to one day at RiotFest due to work, homework and Bink's school project. What a day it was, though. I had the very good fortune of being gifted with backstage passes, which not only got us a sweet spot to hang and see the show, but munchies and free booze. Hence, the blur factor. I could go on and on and bore you all to death with the gritty details, but suffice it to say that Stiff Little Fingers and Naked Raygun were the highlights of the day for me. Last year Jeff had all but lost his voice, and so I was hoping for his sake that he would find a little redemption in this show. Whoa Hey Holy Ho! Naked Raygun rocked my face off. They sounded as good or better than I ever remember them sounding. I was pleased that they were able to crush any doubters out there. Stiff Little Fingers turned in a fierce set as well. Really, every band that played was amazing in their own way. I was just sorry my real life got in the way of being able to see Bad Brains on day two.

Going to Riot Fest is sort of an odd experience. There are a lot of people there far younger than I am and certainly more "decorated." Even in my prime rock-show-a-week days, I was never overboard with the punk gear. Maybe I liked Bauhaus too much to go whole hog with the punk thing. Mostly I think that back then, not that many people were as "punk" looking as some of the kids I see now. There was no Hot Topic. Our fashion mainstay at the time was thrift store bargains. So, I guess I feel like I really don't dress all that differently now than I did then. Anyhow, I was standing at one of the booths looking at t-shirts making small talk with the guy who was working. We talked about some of the bands playing and who we had seen when, enough for the guy to be able to take a good guess at my age. Then he says to me at some point, "Well, you've held up well, ma'am." All I could think was, wow, you are so very young. I think my husband was more annoyed by the comment than I was. I kind of figure it's what's on the inside that counts anyways and the kid was too young to know that. Besides, the sweet revenge of comments like that is that I know someday he'll be 42 and someone will call him "Sir" for the millionth time and he too will realize that it's what's on the inside that counts. And whether he realized it or not, we're part of the same tribe. He's the pesky kid and I'm now the annoying older aunt who's revenge is pinching cheeks when she feels like it.

So flash forward to last night. Last night was the premiere of "You Weren't There." It was a movie made about the beginning of the Chicago punk scene. Last night I was the annoying little brat and many of my aunties and uncles were there. Some of them scoffed at us in the movie, saying we weren't the real deal, the whole punk is dead story. Then what does that make Riot Fest? I guess it's all how you look at it, and in the end, it is kind of only music, but no matter how you slice it, it's somehow more than that. It's a force that drives like-minded people across generations together. You can call it whatever you want to call it. I don't think it really matters. I know I feel at home when I'm near it. I know that it's a part of who I am. Does it matter on a day to day basis? Not really, but it's nice to know it's there when I need it.

Whoa Hey Ho, Off to Naked Raygun I Go!

I am like a kid running down the stairs on Christmas morning right now. I have my coat on and I am waiting for the cab that will take Mr. Ten S and I to Riot Fest where Naked Raygun will headline at 10 tonight. This is my favorite event of the year. A whole day of local and not-so-local punk bands. Loud music, crappy beer and my buddies in the bands. Life is sweet.

I Got Read To

One of my favorite things in life is to be read to. No matter how old I get, I still really enjoy having a book, any book, read to me by a good storyteller. It can be an adult work of fiction or a simple child's story. the magic is in the delivery. Today, I had to observe a preschool classroom for one of my clients. Unbeknownst to me, it was library lady day! I was giddy with delight when I heard this news.



This particular librarian appeared to be about my age. She looked like a librarian. Funky little glasses, an odd sweater, a corduroy skirt, tights and red Mary Janes. You get the picture. She started by reading a book called The Gruffalo. It was delightful. Her voices were magnificent. Her pacing spectacualr. Her questions well-placed and interesting. I may have enjoyed it more than any of the kids in the classroom. She followed this up with a song about leaves and she scattered pretty colored fall leaves as she sang. Then she donned a Mother Goose apron and hat and told a few Mother Goose rhymes. She finished her performance with a flannel board story about a little red leaf. I was sad when it was over.

Maybe I'm a giant child, but that was the best half hour of my week so far.

The Payoff

I've mentioned that work has been especially hard these last couple of months. I've had a few of my clients going through some pretty serious and important school transitions, so I have needed to give them my full attention and a lot of my time. This has included having to fire an aide and take over because some difficult behaviors had been started and when added to trying to acclimate to a new classroom on top of it, it was just easier to do the job myself than try to explain it to someone else.


It's been a rough go, with many days ending in my feeling like I've made the wrong choice for this child's placement. I wondered if I had pushed him too far. I worried that I might have damaged his progress. Things have slowly been getting better. This week they all fell into place. Thursday was the best day we've had together in the classroom. He was talking a lot (for him) and was able to join in most of the group activities in a meaningful way. I knew it was going well while it was happening. It was a fast-paced day and we both raced through it thoroughly enjoying every second.

On Thursdays, I drive him to his speech therapist's office, since it is on my way home. We've worked through a "seatbelt wearing issue" and so our drive was an easy one. As I made the last turn, I looked over my shoulder to check on him, only to find him sound asleep. I myself was feeling exhausted from the effort of the day, but it wasn't until I looked at him that I realized that he has been putting in just as much effort or more. I felt proud of him, the way that I do with my own children when they succeed at something.

I carried him into the office, still sound asleep and his therapist scooped him out of my arms and guessed that they wouldn't be doing any therapy that day. We both remarked about how we never get to just hold and love the kids we work with. We're paid to push and pull them and ourselves. I left feeling tired, but aware of how much I love my job and the kids I work with. I couldn't love them any more unless they were my own. In his efforts I found extra energy for the rest of our journey.

Better Together

So I was reading and appropriately following links over at Twist O Lemon and stubled upon an Amazon "Better Together" recommendation. They were actually recommending that you read a book on depression and chase it with a book on madness. "WTF?" I thought. Are they serious? This of course sent me on an adventure of my own making. What else could I find that they recommended as a "Better Together" option. I found a book about Lincoln's melancholy paired with "The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression", a recommendation to purchase Celine Dion and Barry Manilow, Rub With Love chicken rub with any fine Popeil product (you do remember the Pocket Fisherman don't you?), Barbie Loves Tickle Me Elmo TMX AND Tickle Me Elmo TMX (now there's some Christmas fun!), and crotchless panties with a one year subscription to TeenVogue. Made me wonder what those folks at Amazon are smoking.

Gratuitous Cat Photo

This is Ed. He likes to drink from the faucet, roll in a clean litter box and sit on top of the guinea pig cage. Ed also serves as an alarm clock. He is very loud. Just don't touch his tummy.

Punk or Poser

Back in the day, being called a "poser" was about the worst comment someone could lob at you. It meant that you were only putting on a front, that you weren't a real punk. I'm throwing it out there. Prove yourselves. Punk or poser. The best show of the year is coming up with an enormous lineup. Riot Fest is only two short weeks away. I have my tickets. Do you have yours?

Seriously, the only thing that would make Riot Fest more fun is if some of you showed up. This year they are allowing ins and outs, so you won't be subjected to the fabulous food at the Congress if you don't want to be. There's plenty of beer and certainly more than enough awesome music. For any old geezers that are concerned, there is seating in the back of the first floor as well as in the balcony. If anyone is interested, please email me (sharonathayhaydotcom) and let me know and we can arrange a meeting time and place. As of right now, I am planning on going to the pre-show bash at the Cobra Lounge on Friday night, doing all day Saturday and at least part of Sunday. This is once again a chance to prove that bloggers are not introverted agoraphobic creatures. Get your punk asses in gear and get some tickets!

Forgive Me

I apologize for not being around as much as I have been in the past. Rough start for everyone in our family this fall and I am the one left to sweep up. I have now morphed into Tenacious S-Super Advocate and will be spending most of my spare energy getting my kids squared away. I am frustrated beyond explanation with the school system. I seriously want to hurt someone at this point. I'm used to this battle because I do it all of the time for my clients. Now it's time to take them on for my own babes. I particularly am pissed off at my son's school and have fantasies about meeting the principal out behind the school and pummeling her into the ground. I can dream, can't I?

Life is Totally Fair...

So, are we surprised that the victims of the California fires are getting the rock star treatment? The fires have conveniently occurred in what is basically a Republican stronghold, better known as the Orange Curtain. W and Ahhhnold have flown over the scene and have aid centers that rival the Ritz Carlton set up already. In one of the most population dense areas of the country, they have managed an evacuation of an enormous number of people. No Katrina here, folks. While I am truly glad that casualties have been low, it smacks of hypocrisy to me. Save the rich! And for goodness sakes, those folks need coffee and a comfy bed!

Monkey Business

No, I'm not talking about the demise of our much beloved Green Monkey Music Project, but I am talking about mayhem created by real monkeys. Although this sort of news is usually covered by Bubs over at the Compound, I couldn't resist. Admittedly, it is a tragic story, but I couldn't let go of the images this one brings to mind.

Apparently, according to a news report, the deputy mayor of New Delhi was hanging out on his balcony reading, when he was attacked by a marauding gang of monkeys. A struggle ensued and the poor man fell to his death. The monkeys are becoming a real problem in New Delhi, where Hindus regard them as sacred.

Lulu's description of the American Club in Dhaka included reports of monkeys in the trees. She has asked me to come visit her. We've talked about going to New Delhi. Of all the things that one needs to prepare for when traveling to a different country, I never thought monkey attacks would be one of them.

The Mommy Monster

There are many times when I find myself saying things to my children that sound strangely familiar to me. I call them my "Mommy Monster Moments." Those moments when I am no longer Tenacious S and turn into the Incredible Mommy. I try very hard to never end anything with a "because I said so" mostly because it drove me nuts as a kid, but I do most of the things you will now witness. Behold, the Mommy Monster!

Is It Wrong?

Is it wrong that when I saw all the little files used for my root canal, all I could think of was Pinhead from Hellraiser? Just wondering.

GET PLASTERED!

Hey, if you're bored and wondering what to do this Friday night, I suggest that you head over to Bill's Blues in Evanston on Davis just west of the tracks, where my friend, and local artist, Anne Elisabeth Hogh will be doing live casting. You can either go and watch people get plastered or you can volunteer yourself. If you love it, she'll turn it into a unique work of art for you. I'll be there from about 5 o'clock on. She'll be there from 4-close (really late and past my bedtime). Love to see some of you there.

The Books That I Read

I really wanted to read a novel tonight. Really. I did. I wanted to curl up in my bed after having a lovely root canal today with a glass of red wine and some fine fiction. I wish that was what happened, but it's not. Doped up on pain killers and with a mouth that felt like it belonged to someone else, I plowed through yet another tedious chapter in yet another psychology text book. Sure, some of it is interesting and it absolutely is important, but it just isn't Michael Chabon, is it. I know it's making me smarter, but I'm a Renaissance kind of girl. I feel like I'm so narrowly focused that I'm missing out. My brain wants to run free in a field of fiction, or maybe even some non-fiction that has NOTHING to do with psychology. I'll console myself with the fact that I am honing my craft and sharpening my mind. Truth is, I'm bored.

WWBD (What Would a Behaviorist Do?) Vol. V

Dear Behaviorist,
I just can't figure out why my children constantly find themselves in the principal's office. They go to an afterschool homework support firm, play soccer for the local and traveling teams, play an instrument, and belong to the youth group at church. Occasionally they complain that they are tired, but whenever I see them they are always giving it their all. I am so proud of them! I tell them this all of the time. I tell them that they are great soccer players, that they are gifted musicians and that they are incredibly bright children. What could possibly be wrong? My husband and I have devoted our entire lives to their success. I don't know what we'll do if we have discipline issues on our hands. This could affect their ability to take part in the traveling team. Help!

Signed,
Devoted Soccer Mom

Dear DSM,
Take a step back from your hectic life and think for a moment about why your children have snapped. Could it be your own insecurities being played out through their success? Could it be the intense pressure you have placed on them to perform? Could it be as simple as a lack of sleep? I think it is a combination of the three that is the antecedent to the anger outbursts happening at school. Ask yourself this question, when was the last time you asked your child what they would like to do? Or here's another one, do you have any interests of your own other than your children? Placing unrealistic expectations on children can cause large amounts of stress for both them and yourself. My suggestion is this, Try a little negative reinforcement (not the same as punishment). Relieve them of their pressures for a week. If they appear happier then the removal of the schedule is a negative reinforcer, telling you that you have removed the negative stimulus. Let me know what happens. I'll just bet that they will enjoy lowered expectations, but will surprise you by showing what their true interests are. Happy dribbling!

The Behaviorist

I Predict a Riot

I love autumn. The chill in the air, the subtle hues of a gray sky juxtaposed with the vivid oranges, flaming reds and golden yellows of the leaves, watching the squirrels quicken their pace as they prepare for winter, the two days of chaotic, clamorous music blasting from the Congress stage...

November 17th and 18th are the two days of Riot Fest this year. Headlining day one is none other than my hometown heroes, Naked Raygun. Day two will be headlined by the infamous and seminal band Bad Brains. Some of the other bands on the bill are Stiff Little Fingers, 7 Seconds, Nekromantix, The Casualties, The Bollweevils and so much more. All of this in the fabulous Congress Theater.

So here's where I say we invoke a gathering of the tribe. I know many of you enjoy destroying your hearing as much as I do. Let's unite for this great event! Two whole days of drinking beer, hanging out and listening to some great music. That's what I call heaven on earth. Go to the Riot Fest webpage for all the info on tickets, bands and times and then let me know who's in. Don't make me call you a chicken!

Better Late Than Never

I like to think of myself as the tortoise. Maybe not very appropriate for a Speed It Up mix, but it seems to be my M.O. in life. I eventually get around to things. So here is the illuminating commentary for the Tenacious S Speed It Up mix, along with my grateful thanks to Splotchy for allowing me to participate in the monkey business. The plan of this mix was to start at whatever BPM your heart desired, but it had to continually increase across the mix. For being a tortoise, I kind of like it real fast, so it didn't stay slow for long.

1. Pyramid Song-Radiohead
Does this song even have a beat? Like much of Radiohead's music, I find that it meanders around my brain, crawling into crevices that maybe I hadn't noticed before.

2. Spread Your Love-Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
A slow dirty groove, and I mean dirty. Makes you want to, uh, take a shower.

3. Failures-Joy Division
Post-punk with a sharp beat and a sharper wit. This is where the mix starts to act like it's going someplace and that maybe it might be in a hurry.

4. Groovin' in the Bus Lane-Jazz Butcher
Happy feet! There was a time in my life where the Jazz Butcher probably fell in my Top Ten. I couldn't get enough of the witty lyrics and the gin-soaked lounge singer on the skids tunes.

5. Turning Inside Out-The Methadones
Pure melodic punk perfection. These guys are led by ex-Screeching Weasel Dan Schafer, which is a nice pedigree in this arena. Send your good thoughts out to their bass player, Pete, who was hit by a bus while riding his bike last week. He's OK, but he's been stapled together in a few places.

6. Nicotine Fit-Voodoo Glow Skulls
Oh, come on! Speeded up crazy ass ska. Yahoo! Makes me giddy.

7. TV II-Ministry
While I prefer the more danceable earlier Ministry, I knew they were my go-to guys for the most hellacious BPM's of all. This one is a pure adrenaline rush accompanied by a few whacks over the head with a big mallet.

Hope you had fun.

*Warning-Do not listen to mix while hopped up on Red Bull.

Here It Goes Again

Folks, it's that time of year again. The time where I shamelessly beg you to pay to look at boobs. Sure, they're cute and round and fun, but sometimes boobs get sick. Now it'd be one thing if just the boobs got sick, but see, this disease can kill you. I know, because this is how I lost my mother almost three years ago.

So do me a favor, do boobs a favor, do real people with a real illness a favor, go oggle some boobs and drop some cash. It's all going to the Susan G. Komen organization, which supports breast cancer research and treatment. This wonderful organization that is using one of nature's kind of cool gifts to raise some cash for breast cancer is Boobiethon. My boobs will be there and they thank you as I am one of the people at risk.

Candyman, Candyman, Candyman...

Candyman is my all-time favorite horror movie. Made in 1992 and set right here in Chicago, it is the story of what happens when an urban legend becomes reality. It stars Virginia Madsen, a hometown girl. Watch it and then I dare you to stand in front of your bathroom mirror and utter his name three times. My husband knew this one actually spooked me and would walk up to me when I was brushing my teeth at night and start saying his name. Creep. Thanks for the fun idea, Splotchy!

Time

I know I haven't been around as much lately. For one, we had some problems with our router, but that got fixed. I am under the gun at work. Even when I'm not, I guess I always kind of feel that way. Time is like the hot breath of a pursuer constantly on your back as you try to outrun it. Time has the ability to undermine all that I do. Time is valuable and frightening all at the same time.

I meet most of the kids I work with when they are quite young. There is always great hope in these moments. Everyone I work with makes very nice progress, but some progress much more quickly than others. It's those kids who don't move as fast that set me in motion. I am tasked with trying to catch them up to their peers in a race where the finish line keeps moving further away. It's exhausting for all of us I can assure you.

This year I have more than a few kids that fall into this category. It has been a rough few months filled with bumps in the road and detours that have wasted our precious time. Many days I work from the time I get up until I go to bed. Maybe this is why I kind of snapped this last week. I am grateful that I am in my quarter break right now, so I can devote more energy to my work. While I know school is important, it is yet another greedy monster, eating up precious hours every week. There are days at work that I feel like I'm battling a blazing house and I've got a squirt gun to do the job. It can be a little overwhelming. Most of the time, I try not to think about it too hard, because it doesn't help to worry.

But right now, worry is what I am filled with. I worry that some decisions that were made weren't correct. I worry that we are racing as fast as we can and that we might not finish the race. I worry about ten years from now. I have to. It's my job to constantly adapt plans as progress is made. I have to remind myself that everything we do is good. I know it doesn't all rest on my shoulders, but I also know that I have to keep running because I feel that hot breath on my neck.

Loose as a Goose

If someone were to judge my character based on my activities this week, I think I'd get labeled with names such as "deviant," "exhibitionist," or "slut." I spent Tuesday morning getting plastered in more ways than one. My neighbor is an artist and in preparation for the upcoming Boobiethon, she cast my frontside and will be painting on it. For good measure we threw the backside in as well. A couple of Screwdrivers made the whole experience a little less, shall we say, tense. I'm starting to like this Boobiethon ritual. It forces me once a year to make peace with my body. Standing butt-naked in my neighbor's home covered in plaster also forces that peace process. For the record, a thin layer of plaster doesn't hide much.


Apparently I didn't have quite enough nakedness for the week on Tuesday, so when I was begged to show up at our friend's bar for a male dance revue, I just couldn't say no. Mind you, I'm not super excited by beefcake. I spent my dating years with some seriously scrawny dudes. I felt a little weird heading into this event, so I did what any sensible girl would do, I drank. When we got to the bar, the four guys who were going to perform were all hanging out in back and were actually just nice guys. I'm not sure what I expected, but they were pretty normal. When our group of girls went in, we discovered that we were pretty much the only ones there. I guess they didn't promote the event very well, and quite frankly, this is Evanston. This is probably the raciest thing that has happened here in years.

We all hung out and had a few drinks and the guys postponed the show in hopes of drawing a larger crowd. Well, it didn't happen. They were going to get paid by the bar no matter what happened so we decided to tell them that they didn't have to perform for just us. They weren't having it. They told us they had made a commitment and were going to make good on it. I have to say I was a little nervous when they put our four, yes four, chairs right in front of the stage. Since I was well on my way to having a real good attitude, I was feeling pretty game. Oh my. Let's just say there were four dancers and four girls and plenty of that special time in the chair onstage. I am really not an extrovert or an exhibitionist, but I am beginning to wonder after this week. I kind of felt like I was enjoying it just a little too much. I decided to just go with it and let those boys fulfill their contractual obligations! Really, normally I don't even like standing in front of a crowd, yet there I was smothered in beefcake and put in semi-contortionistic poses with some nearly naked dudes I didn't know. I'm now wandering around wondering what snapped in my brain this week. All the while, I am planning for Boobiethon...

Brains on the Wall

Went with Sweetness and company to a show on Tuesday night. I was geeked about seeing Metric, but had no idea what brain blenderizing fun the opening band, Crystal Castles, would be. They have made a name for themselves remixing songs from other bands like Klaxons and Bloc Party. My brain is still buzzing with the memory of their set.



CRYSTAL CASTLES-Alice Practice

Next up, and headlining, were Metric. Every one of them was an accomplished musician and the fact that they were led by an amazing tough as nails and sarcastic chick made them even better. One of the tightest sets I've heard in years. Interesting time signatures and rock your face off dance inducing tunes. If they are heading for your town, I highly encourage you to go see the show.



METRIC-Dead Disco

I'm flipping out and twitching just a bit because there are more than ten shows I really want to see in the next month. I know I'm going to have to pare that list down, but I am giddy with excitement.

Helping is Easy

Some of you have expressed a desire to sponsor a child. I can only tell you that we have had a very positive experience with Children International. When our first child was conceived we decided that since we would not be adopting, that we should help out another child in the world. We sponsored him from age four to age eighteen. What I did not understand when we signed up was that not only would we be supporting a child, but we supported his family and the village he lived in by improving conditions and bringing aid to the area.

We recently finished supporting this child, who lived in India, and are anxious for the next. I have enjoyed hearing about his growing and love receiving his picture each year. The picture of a healthy educated child. A child who has hope. He often wrote to us telling us of his love for art, which is my daughter's love. I hope that as he continues in life that he will continue to have hope and will continue to succeed. I know that our small commitment to him made a difference.

The organization we went through is Children International. www.children.org They are reliable, non-sectarian, and give a great portion of the money directly to the child being sponsored. I didn't do it to make myself feel good, I did it because it felt like the right thing to do. I have no regrets and can't wait to start all over again.

Hot Spot

I am trying to get to Santa Barbara for a conference, but am socked in at the San Francisco airport. Not really a big deal in the grand scheme of life. Just wanted to let all of you know that I have not been avoiding you, but that we are having issues with our wireless network, the router in particular, and it has been difficult for me to get to my blog and all of yours. So, here I am in a "hot spot" with time on my hands.

I have not been away from my family for three and half years and have never been away for work. It's nice to do something besides what I typically do on a Wednesday. I have homework to do when I get to the hotel, but for now, I'm writing and roaming. Fall has been busy so far getting all of the kids that I work with and my own transitioned into school. It's been a bumpy ride, but we are all making it through. I've managed to hire and fire people in the last week, which is possibly my least favorite aspect of my job. This week I am attending a conference that will give me certification in a newew form of the therapy that I do. The fact that I have to go to Santa Barbara is not unwelcome.

It was my Mom's birthday a couple of days ago. I don't know if it's the medication or the fact that I've been so busy that I haven't really been able to think about it, but I felt like I made it through the day this year a bit better than in years past. The whole fall is filled with last memories, so I approach the season rather hesitantly. The past couple of years, I have felt kind of hollow around this time, but I do feel more full of life in this season of change.

As Summer Fades Away

As summer fades away I find myself clinging onto the last sunny days spent with my kids. Somehow in my mind, summer marks their changing stages of childhood. Sweetness no longer really enjoys playing in the sand at the beach and I wonder how long before Bink will feel the same way. We are making our last trek to the beach tomorrow before they close it for the season. This year Bink still enjoyed hanging with me at the beach, content to make sandcastles while I read or splashing around in the water with me. I wonder if next summer will be different.

We as a family are sucking the marrow out of the last days, while readying ourselves for Tuesday's drastic change. There's still time for a couple more barbeques, a couple of evenings on the porch and looking for that last cicada. I think for the first time, I'm dreading the end of summer more than my kids. I hope everyone enjoys this last weekend of summer.

Why Study When You Can Dance?

Star in Your Own JibJab! It's Free!Thanks, Dale. I'm easily distracted.

Two For Tuesday (Sweetness & Co. Edition)

METRIC-Empty

Today's two are inspired by Sweetness and her friends and what I hear coming from her speakers and her friends' iPods. First band up, Metric. Headphones were gleefully stuffed on my head by one of her friends as she walked in the house. We now have tickets to see them at the end of Spetember.



KLAXONS-It's Not Over Yet

Sweetness herself tends towards the more abstract and fantastical. This is her pick for who she'd like to see this fall, because she thinks they would have an interesting show. I feel pretty fortunate to have such a cool kid. As she once said about a peer, "She was sucked into the hip hop vortex." I think we're both grateful it didn't happen to her.

Mirror Neurons

I've been studying about mirror neurons. Is it wrong that everytime I think of them, I think of this?



I hope that watching this doesn't cause me to imitate this action, or God help us, those haircuts.

Dedication to Medication Vol. III

DAVID SYLVIAN-Orpheus

Day Three-Half dose. Migraine in the middle of the night last night has left me a little worn out today. My sinuses are still messed up and today I feel more calm, but more detached. I'm actually enjoying just sitting at home watching the rain. I dreaded taking my dose this morning, because I never know what it will bring. I'm hoping I won't have another night like last night. I realize this is not thrilling reading, so I'm not offended if you bypass these posts. Honestly, I feel like I'm sick and want to crawl in bed and stay there. Not much energy for anything else. I'll be more fun soon. I promise.

Echo Back

Here's the game. Every time you hear the word "sexy", insert the word "Echo." Our leader has returned from his exile in the wilderness. All hail the king of the GEWS. Echo! Echo! Echo!

Dedication to Medication Vol. II

TOOL-Stinkfist

Day Two-Half dose. Since this is not my first ride onto meds, I have memories that are flooding back now. Woke up this morning with a sore throat and sinus pressure. I remember this from before. It's actually a documented side effect, so I know I'm not just getting sick. My head hurts because not only do my sinuses hurt, but my jaws are so tight that it's contributing to the general headache I've got going on. This is why I've put this off for so long. I know I'll feel better next week, but this week is going to suck. After a day of alternate mania and exhaustion, I fell asleep at 9:30, which is really early for me. I actually slept really well, which surprised me, as I've had issues with insomnia in the past. I can feel the weird dreams coming. I enter a dream state much quicker than I typically would and they are always more graphic. I still remember one of the dreams I had last time I was medicated. I could feel the rain. Really feel it. And if you ever wondered if you can dream in color, you absolutely can. Vivid color. Yesterday when I dozed off in the afternoon, my dream had a soundtrack going.

In general, I feel kind of tense. My muscles occasionally twitch or jerk. I feel like a walking experiment at this point. I'm glad I have the day off today, as I certainly am not feeling myself. I don't feel slow or groggy in any way, but more like my body is detached and on a ride of its own. If anything, I feel hyperaware and a little tense. I definitely understand why some people refuse to medicate and don't make it past week one. If you didn't know what to expect and weren't able to ride it all out, you'd give up before you felt the full effect. I know this is going to be good for me in the long run, so I know I have to ride this out. It helps to have a supportive family.

Dedication to Medication Vol. I

Day One- Half dose and I'm pretty much feeling like I could take over as the lead singer of Fishbone. I'm jittery and wired for sound, yet oddly can tell I need a nap. I'm purposefully making trips up and down the stairs to burn off excess energy. Stomach is a little queasy. Hey, I'm a Master's student in psychology. I figured I'd document the whole ugly cycle of leveling out on meds. As far as I can tell, I am behaving like my cat Edward, who occasionally rips through the house like a white tornado only to crash fifteen minutes later. Hey, this should keep me entertained for the rest of the summer. Just don't let me do something stupid like sign up for a marathon while I'm feeling like this.

The Bridge That Broke the Camel's Back

How thoughtful of them to build a new bridge next to the bridge that sealed my fate. When I was about 21, my friends and I piled into a car to take a daytrip to the Isle of Palms off the coast of Charleston, South Carolina. Up until this point I had driven around with no problems to speak of for a good five years. In perspective, that's not very long, but at the time it felt like forever and so I confidently got behind the wheel of the car and drove towards our destination. I had never been there before, but it was a quick trip and I couldn't possibly have guessed how a few minutes would so radically change my life.

As we neared the Isle of Palms, the only way to get there was to go over the Cooper River Bridge, an old steel bridge with pretty narrow lanes. I approached the bridge with not a worry in my mind. As I began to drive across the bridge I had what was to be the first of many panic attacks. My hands go numb, my body stiffens, my breathing rate and heart rate increase dramatically and everything gets a little dim around the edges. I had four other people in the car, including Lulu who was there for a visit. She was in the front seat with me and noticed I was having problems. I managed to make it over by staring at the bumper of the car in front of me, but was concerned the entire time that I was going to pass out. There was no place to pull over either. Lulu drove over the bridge on the way back, but that first crossing sealed my fate forever.

From there the attacks grew and spread to include other things like high overpasses on freeways and eventually to all freeways. It's a classic phobia I've been told. One where you begin to build all these behavioral responses to certain stimuli. I feel like I'm on a runaway train when the attacks start. My mind knows that it's ridiculous, but I can't seem to stop the reaction that my body goes through. When the attack is over, I am spent. It exhausts me and ruins what is left of my day as I'm usually left with a wicked headache and my body is busy mopping up the massive adrenaline overload.


I initially tried the cognitive-behavioral therapy route. After many months of therapy there was no improvement and because it involved driving, doing desensitization was dangerous. I was left with one option and that was to try medication. Three drugs later, I've found that an SSRI called Lexapro is the one that works for me, although I'm left dealing with some of the side effects of that which include tiredness and some weight gain. I've been off my medication for about two years because I just needed a break from it. But now I have new clients that I literally can't get to unless I'm medicated. I often feel like I am a prisoner in my own body. My freedom in life has been curbed by some crazy chemicals that don't behave like they're supposed to.


So back on the meds I go. I know I need to, but I don't want to. In general I function much better when I take Lexapro, because along with the panic attacks, I suffer in general from bouts of depression and have a generally high anxiety level. Funny, Lulu and I were talking about which Winnie the Pooh character we were one day. I immediately answered Tigger, but Lu corrected me and said I was more like Piglet. I don't think I like that. Lexapro lets me be Tigger, so I guess it's a good thing.

Two For Tuesday

CROWDED HOUSE-Don't Stop Now

Today's 2 are from the same band. It's a Now and Then kind of pair. Crowded House is back together again. Although sadly missing Paul Hester, I expect that they will not disappoint. Neil Finn seems to have a knack for writing perfect introspective pop songs that get under your skin. They always sound so shiny on the outside, but have a brooding quality just under the surface. I'm happy to say that Mr. Ten S and I will be seeing them live on Sunday night. If it's half as good as The Finn Brothers show I saw a couple of years ago, it will be fabulous.



CROWDED HOUSE-Better Be Home Soon

The Quiet Place in My Head

When I am stressed out or depressed, I really do have a quiet happy place that I go to in my head. My place is everything that is good on this earth. It represents peace, which as far as I can tell is what I really want from life. Our family has been vacationing at Sugar Maple Lake in northern Wisconsin since I was a small child. My own children now vacation there and have since we returned from California.

What makes this place so special? The biggest town that the lake is near is Eagle River. Even though there's a fancy new bypass around the town, the main street is relatively unchanged. Some of the stores are different, but many remain, including the ice cream and candy store where I bought many treats as a child. There's nothing fancy about this town. The little town closer to the cabin we rent is even smaller. Phelps has not changed at all since I was a child. There is still a bar, a small grocery, a post office, a bait shop, a boat rental and repair shop and a cafe. That's it.

As a kid, my brother and I would ride in the back of the station wagon on the way up, counting cows and watching the puffy white clouds in the blue Wisconsin sky. The ride was long enough to really feel like you were going somewhere, but short enough that before you knew it, you were there. I loved all the little towns we passed through on the way as well. I remember throwing open the car door and immediately running down to the lake, just to make sure it was still there. We always got called back up to help unload the car. Mom was smart and packed our bathing suits and towels right on top, as she knew the first thing we'd be doing was going for a swim.

When I was younger, the week was spent swimming, catching tadpoles, playing board games in the evening and riding around in a rowboat with my dad's small outboard motor on the back. As I got older, I still swam a lot, but really enjoyed reading out on the raft and just laying in the sun on the pier. This was when I developed my love for that exact feeling, the one I go to when I'm losing it. My moment of true peace is laying on my towel on my stomach in the sun with my ear to the boards on the pier. It's more about sound than anything else. It's the sound of the lapping of the waves against the boat and the boats bumping gently up against the pier. I can instantly go there anytime I need to. It's the nothingness of the moment, I guess, that makes it perfect. It's knowing that there is no rush, that it's OK to relax and that in this place I am always surrounded by those I love. Having returned to this place as an adult, I can say that it is as true today with my family as it was as a child and a teen. It's a reminder of when all is right and gentle and perfect. I hope that my kids find their moment of peace as well.

Two For Tuesday

SPOON-The Underdog

This song hooked me on the first listen. Sure, the horns are clean and bright. Yeah, the lolligagging beat eases you along, but it's the lyrics that immediately caught my attention. "You have no fear of the underdog, that's why you will not survive." Now those are some powerful words. They made me think about everything from politics to daily social life. Put this one in heavy rotation.



VAN MORRISON-Real Real Gone

Hear some similarities? I was listening to Spoon thinking that it sounded new and yet familiar and then I realized that they reminded me a lot of Van Morrison. Similar arrangements, don't you think? Happy Tuesday, everybody!

Crazy T & Lu's Bargain Sale!!!!!

Last chance for a crack at some of Lulu's books and other priceless treasures. It's that time of year again. Time for the Ten S family's yard sale. This sucker is huge as some of our friends do this with us. You name it, we've probably got it. This weekend only from 9-4 Saturday and Sunday. Leave a comment if you want directions!

Got the Blues in Chicago (Imagine That!)

I'm a Master's Student
Duh Duh Duh Duh
I study all day
Duh Duh Duh Duh
While everyone is playin'
Duh Duh Duh Duh
I'm makin' hay

Cause I got the low-o-down
Master's Student Blues
I'd rather be playin'
But it's studyin' I choose

My friends they keep leavin'
Duh Duh Duh Duh
I'm lonely as sin
Duh Duh Duh Duh
I'm an aging punk rocker
Duh Duh Duh Duh
Going through crisis again

Cause I got the low-o-down
Master's Student Blues
I used to go playin'
But now it's studyin' I choose

OK, well, I'm not exactly Muddy Waters or Buddy Guy or even BB King, but you get the point. Sick of school. Migrating friends. Irritating job. Shit, y'all, I just need to go to bed. Sleep will cure most any kind of illin' you have.