Memories

Do You Wanna Dance?

Posted on by Megan

Middle School.

The most awkward period of everyone’s life. Marred by the burning desire to fit in and sit with the cool kids; the desire to please your parents, but be accepted by your peers. Easier said than done.

For example, take the 5th grade Christmas dance, where I decided it would be most appropriate to wear a sparkly gold sweater and velvet stirrup pants. Complete with matching purse and choker. Add to that my mom’s obsession of steam rollers, teasing, and hairspray and you got this…

I thought I was stylin’ and that all the girls would ask me for fashion advice. Looking back, I was clearly mistaken.

Then picture that awkward, skinny, towering 11 year old version of me dying for the chance to dance with a boy. ANY boy. Instead of sitting on the sidelines watching every other girl dance only joining in when the Electric Slide or Macarena played. I was so desperate, in fact, that I decided to chase a boy around the dance floor until he agreed to dance with me. Yes, you read right. I CHASED him around the dance floor, in front of teachers, classmates, parents, and the DJ.

Not my proudest moment.

Rotary Phone

E.T. [can’t] Phone Home…

Posted on by Megan

Rotary Phone

When I was 4, I was put in the corner at The Learning Corner for not knowing my home phone number and while I don’t remember the actual events of the evening that followed, you can bet my mom [or maybe my dad] helped me memorize our number so that the next day I could proudly recite it.

Years passed and our  number was written on countless school permission slips, emergency contact forms, doctor’s files, college applications, and summer camp forms. There’s no telling how many times I’ve written my home phone number down. Later, after the advent of “Zack Morris phones”, I received my first cell phone and stored the number simply as “Home”. I placed it at speed dial #5, always knowing Home was just a press away.

My first year at college there were innumerable calls to that number, then as the popularity of cellular devices increased, my parents “joined the bandwagon” and their individual cell numbers became my preferred method of reaching them. I never stopped calling “Home” though, nor did I stop writing it on contact forms. It always stayed one key press away.

In December of 2008, my parents disconnected their landline. To them it was no big thing, but to my sister and me it was huge. Even though we have a home to go back and visit and “Mom” and “Dad” on speed dial, neither one of us can remove “Home” from our phonebook. Because, if we do, we’d be “Home”less.

Isn’t it funny that a number I was once punished for not knowing, is a number that I no longer have to know?

image via splityarn on flickr

It’s Cookie Time!

Posted on by Megan

Today at work, a co-worker was telling me that his daughter just joined Daisy Scouts and his wife was one of the leaders. I immediately told him he had to rent “Troop Beverly Hills” and watch it with his wife, because it tells the perfect tale of girl scout troop rivalry. He gave me this blank stare, which encouraged me to ask other co-workers in the hopes that they would know what I was talking about. No one knew and I felt shamed and superior all at the same time. I immediately took my [failed] office poll to Twitter and felt validated, thanks to a host of sorority sisters backing me up. Thanks, girls! I knew I could count on you 🙂

I would be remiss not to mention how utterly cheese-y this move is. But me likes the cheese, especially when that cheese revolves around the best [and worst] of the 80’s. If you haven’t seen this movie, you must find it and watch it.

I mean seriously, what’s not to love about a movie that stars Shelley Long and has the quote, “Silicone is buoyant”? Nothing.

PS: If you look hard enough on YouTube, you might be able to find the entire movie. I’m just sayin’

Grocery Lessons

Posted on by Megan

See that window? That BIG window at the top of the picture? That’s the window that inspired me today as my mom and I enjoyed a day of shopping.

Growing up my dad owned a grocery store, Taylor’s Grocery, which eventually became Taylor’s Big Star. This grocery store was a part of my family for most of my adolescence. As a kid, it was AWESOME to have the store opened after hours by your dad to run wild in & get everything for “free”. Frozen pizza, popcorn, coke, magazines, comics. That store was my oyster. My sister and I were even the store mascots during the annual Chicken and Egg parade.

(Yep, my hometown’s summer festival celebrated poultry. Laugh. It. Up.) See Exhibit A.

Exhibit A

I learned many things by being the daughter (and mascot) of a grocer:

I learned the importance of properly sacking groceries, a skill that I still value to this day. You want squashed bread about as much as you want soap flavored apples, which is about as much as you want broken eggs, right? Never underestimate the importance of sacking your groceries. Ever.

I learned how to efficiently scan barcodes. Well, when the scanner cooperates. Which also explains why I almost always choose the self-checkout line when the option is available. That line takes me back to a childhood of playing on the scanners after-hours at the family grocery store.

I learned, thankfully not from first-hand experience, that those meat slicers in the deli can be awfully dangerous. I also learned that pricing guns aren’t dangerous and can actually be a lot of fun to use.

(No wonder why my dad always let me price stuff when I asked. Hmm…must’ve been the free labor thing. Though my parents would never encourage free labor. WOULD YOU mom & dad?)

I learned independence, because as a toddler my mom was known to wake up and see me toddling down the driveway to see daddy. Yep, I was an early riser. An early-riser who missed her dad. Thank goodness it was a straight shot, literally, to the grocery store from our house and that I never made it further than the driveway before getting caught.

I learned where to find my dog, Sugar, a Cocker Spaniel, when he wasn’t in his pen. 9 times out of 10 he had jumped the fence and went to visit my dad at the grocery store.

But back to this blog inspiring window…

At the back of the store there was a small window, behind that window was the most fun area of the store. A tiny private “office”, if you will. To get to this office you had to climb up some stairs. Often these stairs were blocked by pallets or boxes, but that never got in our way. My sister and I would go up to this office with a box of Gushers or Fruit Roll-Ups, a few Archie comic books, some crayons and coloring books, and a fruit juice jug of some kind. We would feel like the queens of the store.

(I’m generalizing here. Maddie may not have felt this way, in which case she can clarify her feelings in the comments.)

From that little-bitty window we could see everything. A woman thumbing through magazines, a man picking fruit, every.single.person that walked through the doors.

Unfortunately, we never witnessed some of the more interesting happenings of the store from that window. Like the time a guy decided to steal cigarettes, so he stuffed them down his pants then ran out of the store with the manager following him, leaving a trail of cigarettes along the way. Not to mention losing his pants in the pursuit as well. Or so I’m told.

But I loved everyday that we got to sit up in that “office” watching over the store. From that window we could see exactly what a small town is about. Smiles to strangers, friendships, support, gossip, laughter, family, and eating.

Being the daughter of a grocer taught me so much more than the importance sacking and scanning. It taught me the importance of a community that sticks together through thick and thin.

Karaoke Memories

Posted on by Megan

When I was 2 or 3, my cousin introduced me to Janet Jackson and I danced and sang my way through “Nasty” and “Lately”. My parents further encouraged this behavior by taping it using their VHS Camcorder. They were cool like that.

When I was about 7, I remember receiving my own personal tape player and microphone set-up, perfect for rapping to MC Hammer or Vanilla Ice on my parents’ screened in back porch. I was dope.

When I was about 12, my family started having karaoke nights, despite the fact that none of us could sing…well, we could sing, we just weren’t any good. Our karaoke machine was well loved and our song selection was impressive. We had a binder of CDs from which to choose, but inevitably I always chose “Brick House”. Complete with a little self-choreographed dance.

My adolescence was marked with age inappropriate karaoke.

Then, I went off to college, got my first apartment and realized that I could own karaoke games. Karaoke competitions? In my own home? Count. Me. In. I bought SingStar, Karaoke Revolution, and Get On Da Mic and held karaoke parties with friends. Watching each and every person try to hit a perfect score was entertaining to say the least, but best of all it provided me with 3 karaoke standards, should someone every bribe me to sing karaoke in public.

These standards have proven invaluable already, after an overconfident and unfortunate group effort involving “Scarborough Fair”… [Did you know there are more words to it than “parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme”? We didn’t.]

Turn the Beat Around by Gloria Estefan

9 to 5 by Dolly Parton

Wannabe by Spice Girls

image via Cuba Gallery on Flickr

Where I’m From

Posted on by Megan

I am from a two stoplight town, from Flywheel Pies, Sonic and chocolate turtles.

I am from the “big yellow house,” with intricate woodwork, Santa hanging from the front porch, and fireplaces alive with crackling embers.

I am from the fragrant gardenias and tasty honeysuckle, the peaceful fireflies and pesky mosquitoes.

I am from Wards and Owens, Ottie and Grand Merle – storyteller and gardener, Spaghetti maker and Oatmeal Crème Pie giver. Teacher.

I am from stature, grocers, Hog fans, volunteers, and friends.

From the parents who walked 3 miles uphill in the snow – barefoot and the relatives who offered wooden ice cream bars to innocent children [read: me].

I am from hearty Thanksgiving meals after raking leaves in toboggan caps and indelible family karaoke nights.

I am from faithful Methodists, from a sanctuary illuminated by stained glass, the kneeling pads sewn by my grandmother.

I’m from the South, great grand-daughter of Curtis. From Old Mike, El Spotro, Curley Wolves, and county fairs.  From fried chicken and banana pudding.

From women who sew, smock, tat, needlepoint, and crochet, from a Vietnam veteran.

I am from white-bordered photographs, stored in boxes, yellowed with age. The crunch of tires on a dirt driveway and the snap of tree limbs breaking under ice. A daughter shaped by her small southern town and the food she ate.

Roam If You Want To

Posted on by Megan

As I alluded to in my previous post, my family + Adam took our separate road trips and met for a week of relaxation on Kiawah Island in South Carolina. I feel it’s my duty as a blogger to share with my faithful readers (all 2 of you) a sort of vacation recap, if you will.

We [meaning Dad, Mom, Sister, and me] hit the road on a Friday, immediately after they got off work and I drove the 30 miles to meet them. During my drive down, I pass a woman broken down on the side of I-40. While I’ve passed broken down travelers before, this incident caused me to pay more attention than I usually would. Why? She was leaned up against her Ford Taurus, wearing thigh-high boots, a black mini skirt, partially unbuttoned white oxford shirt and a semi was backing up to help her out.

I make it to my parents’ laughing, because I couldn’t believe what I had just witnessed. Once I get there I’m shocked to find my dad holding a flip phone. I’m sure it doesn’t sound that shocking, as we are in 2010 now, but my dad has been using a Nokia brick phone for 10 years and has never had a desire to upgrade. Additionally, my mom and sister have upgraded to smart phones so I can only guess how much “tech support” Adam and I will have to provide on this vacation.

We finally get loaded in the Trailblazer and head for the coast. When we make a stop for dinner at a random combination KFC/Taco Bell drive-thru there’s a live chicken walking and grazing in the flowerbed. I guess we should be comforted by knowing the chicken was fresh? Or maybe it had the sense to jump truck? Either way, it provided unexpected entertainment during our wait.

After spending the night in a hotel somewhere in Mississippi, we drive the last 10 hours to the beach. Along the way Dad informs us that the iPod Shuffle we gave him for Father’s Day is an engineering feat, Mom is asking what apps she should add to her Droid, Maddie takes over driving telling us she doesn’t drive below 80 unless required, and I’m doing needlepoint in the backseat. 14 hours on the road together and no one was left on the side of the road, or killed. So far? So good.

When I wasn’t fielding questions from my dad like, How do I make this damn thing call? or I took a picture but I don’t know how to get to it, I was trying to show Adam as much as I could about one of my favorite places in the world. Literally. Our week was filled with drives along the live oak lined, spanish moss draped highways of South Carolina, where we took pictures of the 1500 year old Angel Oak Tree and the village of Rockville at the dead end of HWY 700 and made an unexpected, yet quintessentially southern, stop at the Charleston Tea Plantation. I shared the historic southern charm of Charleston with Adam by taking a horse drawn carriage tour through town and strolling through the straw market buildings.  My sister and I persuaded Adam to drive us to the Firefly Vodka distillery, where we sampled [and subsequently purchased]  sweet tea and lemonade flavored vodkas. We biked all over the Island on beach cruisers, enjoyed BBQ at Mingo Point and scarfed down a celebratory low-country boil, prepared by Adam, for my mom’s birthday. There was beach time too, which might have included a game of Mölkky [in which yours truly came from behind and beat Adam] and an embarassingly unsuccessful attempt of sandcastle construction.

Our long drive home came all too quickly, but we made the best of it with Cash Cab, Don’t Forget the Lyrics, and Sporcle iPhone apps. Between CDs of Sam Cooke, The Turtles, Joe Cocker and The Beatles, my sister quoted Hamlet, my dad asked us about the Electronic Cowboy in Little Rock, our GPS told us it was recalculating, and we stopped at an interesting gas station in Nashville that had a ladies happy hour.

I can’t tell you how awesome it is to have a family that laughs together, as it makes long road trips more bearable and fly by faster. As for our week spent together on Kiawah Island? It was one of the best vacations I can remember. I’m truly blessed!

A Tale of Two Sisters

Posted on by Megan

My family made the 14 hour drive [each way] to Kiawah Island, SC without leaving anyone on the side of the road, so I say that’s a successful trip. 🙂 We had a great time: relaxing, visiting a tea plantation, sweet tea vodka distillery, Charleston, and, of course, the beach. We even spotted a few alligators in the lagoon behind our villa.

However, the purpose of this post isn’t to wax poetic about Kiawah or the tea plantation or the Spanish Moss that draped the highways. Instead it’s to share with you the perfect illustration of these sisters’ personalities that occurred on the drive out.

As we drove through Atlanta, the only thing that popped into my head was “Don’t be Tardy for the Party“, from the esteemed Bravo reality show, “Real Housewives of Atlanta“. I suppressed the urge to sing it, because no one else would  understand. Then, about an hour later we had begun our trip on the scenic highways of Georgia. As we drove through Augusta and saw the quintessential southern mansions that lined downtown, I pointed to one with a white picket fence. My sister immediately replied, “Looks like it needs a little Huckleberry Finn action.”

Me: Reality television aficionado
My sister: Classic literature virtuoso

Let the Music Play

Posted on by Megan

I think it’s an annual tradition on my blog[s] that I do a post where I put iTunes on shuffle and tell you what 30 songs play. It helps flex my sometimes tired writing muscles and rescue me from boredom when there’s nothing to watch on my DVR. Here’s last year’s post.

Seeing as it’s a tradition and all, I can’t disappoint my readers [all 1 of you] now can I? Plus I need documented proof that my taste in music really is as schizophrenic as I claim it is. [Hmmm, maybe I should reconsider this whole idea now that I see it in writing] Oh well, here we go!

  1. Faces Going Places – Jose Vanders. A great young artist out of the UK you’ve probably never heard of.
  2. The Acid Queen – The Who. You can thank the boyfriend for this one. He introduced me to the music of The Who via Tommy at The Rep. Yes, I had no idea what songs they sang or that they even sang good music, but I was proven wrong. Dang that boyfriend. My only saving grace was handily beating him at pinball during intermission 🙂
  3. St. Judy’s Comet – Paul Simon. I have to be honest, I hadn’t heard this song until this little exercise but I find it quite enjoyable. I mean, who doesn’t like Paul Simon?
  4. My Boo – Ghost Town DJ’s. aaaaaand the schizophrenia begins. Yes, I’m a fan of 90’s hip-hop and yes I actually remember the words to this song.
  5. Never Surrender – Corey Hart. Did I mention I’m an 80’s music addict? C’mon, admit it, you know you are too… As a side note, did you know this song was 5 minutes long? That’s a lot of 80’s pop musicality.
  6. Oh Yeah – Yello. I told you I was an 80’s music addict. Now do you believe me? I love the ch-chchikaaah’s in this song, btdubs.
  7. Hold Me – Fleetwood Mac. Anytime a Fleetwood Mac song begins to play I smile. I don’t know what it is, but I like it. Plus, there’s some cowbell in this and I hear it’s a great prescription for fevers.
  8. Jungle Love – The Time. Embarrassing, really embarrassing even if it is an early Prince track, but I can’t help but sing along with the “oh-wee-oh-wee-oh’s”.
  9. Farther Along – Sam Cooke & the Soul Stirrers. “Oh cheer up my brothers live in the sunshine”. I need this reminder every so often.
  10. Run Around – Blues Traveler. Ok this song? This song right here? Was one of my childhood jams. I LOVE[D] Blues Traveler and even had this on cassette. [For you young’uns out there, before invisible .mp3 files and CDs, there used to be these small plastic boxes with ribbon on gears inside. We’d put these magical boxes in a boombox, Walkman, or car stereo and our favorite music would play. It was truly amazing.]
  11. What Have You Done For Me Lately – Janet Jackson. This song and I go waaaaay back. When I was just a toddler running and dancing around my parents’ house in diapers I learned the words to “Nasty” and this was the next song on the cassette, so I learned the words to its intro as well. In fact, my parents video taped me dancing and singing “Nasty” and the intro to this song, which you can watch on YouTube.
  12. One Vision – Queen. My dad’s love of Queen was obviously passed down to me.
  13. Be My Baby – The Ronettes. Fitting, since I carried a watermelon today.
  14. Something Happened on the Way to Heaven – Phil Collins. Early 90’s Phil, is there anything better?
  15. Then Came You – Dionne Warwick & the Spinners. Did I also mention I enjoy music from the 70’s?
  16. What a Fool Believes – The Doobie Brothers. I rest my case.
  17. Girls Just Want to Have Fun – Cyndi Lauper. You can’t say you’re a fan of 80’s pop and not have this song.
  18. Sisters are Doing it for Themselves – Eurythmics. I cannot express my love for Eurythmics eloquently enough.
  19. Mo Money Mo Problems – Notorious B.I.G. May he rest in peace.
  20. Inside – Sting. Sting is my favorite artist of all time. Seriously, I cannot get enough of his music. Perfection, every.single.time.
  21. The Boys Are Back In Town – Thin Lizzy. Yep, I also like classic rock. This is a sunroof open kinda song.
  22. Yesterday – The Beatles. My favorite band of all time [closely followed by The Police]. This song is just so beautiful and I love the melody. McCartney is a musical genius.
  23. Constellations – Jack Johnson. Obligatory college leftover. Surprisingly I can still listen to it. Not my favorite Jack Johnson, though.
  24. Hey Baby – Bruce Chanel. My parents raised my sister and me on Oldies. I’m pretty sure this was played on a weekly basis.
  25. Anyone Else But You – The Moldy Peaches. Anyone else a Juno soundtrack fan?
  26. Loose Ends – Imogen Heap. If you haven’t heard of Imogen YouTube her now. This woman is amazing. She can and does make beautiful music from a radiator, a sweeping broom, and any other household sound you can think of.
  27. Can’t Stop – Missy Elliot. Yeah, I listen to rap too. Missy is a favorite, even if I can’t understand half of the lyrics to her songs, her beats are sick. [Did I really just type that?]
  28. Chameleon – Elton John. After going to his the Face2Face tour with Billy Joel with my sister I have become an even bigger fan of his music. A true entertainer and, I dare say, he gets better with age [without a shadow of a doubt].
  29. Brown Eyed Girl – Steel Pulse. Is there any better summer beach music than this reggae standard? I didn’t think so.
  30. Jesus & Gravity – Dolly Parton. Ever since my sister and I skated on/polished wood floors to Dolly’s “9 to 5” record I’ve been a fan. She’s like the Betty White of the country music world.
Needlepoint

Life’s a Stitch…

Posted on by Megan

Needlepoint

Sunday, I spent my evening mourning the loss of Rue McClanahan while having a “Golden Girls” marathon. I also began a new hobby: needlepoint. Monday, I turned 26.

I’m not sure what spurred this current “obsession” with needlepoint, but I’m pretty sure it had to do with these darling key fobs I found online several weeks ago, specifically the “cosmo” and “pig” fobs. As soon as I saw them I thought, “What a cute gift! I could do that!” and thus began my quest into the great unknown of needlepoint. A Facebook/Twitter friend suggested a store in Little Rock where I could start my journey and Saturday, I dragged my boyfriend to Yarn Mart [Quick, somebody get that man a cookie!] to find my first needlepoint canvas. I’ve been hooked ever since!!

I was confused as to why all of a sudden this hobby had consumed my thoughts. Then I began thinking about the lovely childhood weekends I spent alternating between my grandmothers’ homes, which I’ve mentioned in previous posts (HERE and HERE). Thinking back, I faintly remember sewing at Ottie’s house and of those memories I most vividly remember her tracing illustrations onto muslin for me to cross-stitch. Currently, cross-stitch isn’t appealing to me, but maybe one day…

Ottie was a very talented needleworker (is that a word?), making needlepoint stockings for my sister and me [that we still use every Christmas] and small pillows with pictures of our childhood pups Sugar and Isabelle [that still grace our beds in our parents’ house]. My mom also reminded me  that Ottie helped stitch the beautiful needlepoint altar rail kneeling cushions in my hometown church.

So perhaps this sudden “obsession” isn’t so random in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it’s just in my blood…

Weekend Recap

Posted on by Megan

This weekend, Adam and I enjoyed all that Riverfest in Little Rock, Arkansas had to offer. Well, almost. We only made it there for 2 nights, but we still had a blast! Earth, Wind, and Fire, fireworks, and Ludacris, what’s not to love? We also got to see each of our families. All in all, we kept I-40 hot…

Here’s some highlights:

Friday:

  • Heidi Montag left Spencer, is the world coming to an end?
  • Watching Adam rap and groove to Outkast – Ms. Jackson while driving to Riverfest is one if the funniest things I’ve ever witnessed…
  • The streets around Riverfest are filled with cars blaring 90’s rap/hip hop and all the drivers are white.
  • Waiting patiently for Earth, Wind, & Fire http://twitpic.com/1ryqkj
  • A DJ is spinning mixes of old-school rap/hip hop. Think O.P.P. and Da Dip and Hip Hop Hooray into Usher’s Yeah.
  • Save me. Adam is quoting Spaceballs while we wait for Earth Wind & Fire…
  • There is nothing better than watching white people with no rhythm dance to hip hop music.
  • At Earth, Wind, & Fire, Adam’s first impression of the band is “That tall guy is wearing some interesting pants.”

Saturday:

  • On our way to lunch, Adam says/sings, “I’m a Rock. It. Man!” just in case I ever doubted his geek status…
  • Protein. Dairy. Grains. Veggies. Totally healthy right? http://tweetphoto.com/24547642
  • This bike shop is named Poppa Wheelies? Really?
  • I just missed Adam’s fist in a fist bump. #IAdmitMyFlaws #IFail
  • Today I learned that Adam has never seen “Catch Me If You Can”. Tonight we’re watching it together.

Sunday:

  • Dad: “What is box wine?”
  • Dad: “I had some of that behind the blue moon beer”.
  • Oh Sonic, does it really take 5 minutes, 1 callback, and 3 tries to order 2 shakes? Oh, it does? Yay!
  • After Ludacris sang “Move B!tch” Adam and I left. We didn’t want to disobey Mr. Luda, as he had an entourage.
  • Listening to the LRPD scanner. Glad we got out when we did…
image via LITTLE ROCK CONVENTION & VISITORS BUREAU

Why I want to move…

Posted on by Megan

[See also: Why I despise my downstairs frat boy neighbors]

11:40: Just got off the phone with Adam and am walking back to my bedroom.

11:41: Changed into my PJs, ready to read Jen Lancaster and fall into a sweet sweet slumber

11:42:30: Is that ABBA?

11:42:35: It IS ABBA, but what song?

11:42:45: OMG the frat boys are blaring “Dancing Queen”

11:42:47: I hit the floor, ear to carpet, listening and giggling at this picture I’ve drawn in my head of frat boys dancing around their apartment and singing “Dancing Queen”

11:43:15: Man, I’m tired. I need to sleep. [Gets up off floor]

11:43:18: But what if the next song is equally entertaining? [Walks and stands in the corner to listen to more music]

11:43:20: What’s this?

11:43:32: It’s The Eagles…

11:43:34: It’s Hotel California

11:44:25: I call Adam.

11:44:27: Adam’s working, and says, “That’s umm interesting” as a I regale him with the scenarios that are popping into my head at this very moment about the neighbors’ playlist.

11:50: Adam tells me he needs to get back to work so he can finish laundry and pack to visit me on Thursday.

11:50:10: “Don’t go!” I shout, not wanting to miss the opportunity to share the next song choice with him.

11:50:30: Distract Adam with my sleepy ramblings while I try to figure out the next song…

11:50:35: It’s the Bee Gees, not nearly as random, we say our goodbyes.

11:51:35: We are done saying our goodbyes.

11:53: Oooh! Foreigner, “Feels Like the First Time”

11:54: Seriously, WHAT are THEY doing down there…

11:54:45: Ok, the charm of this is starting to wear off. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that it’s almost midnight on a school night.

11:54:46: Did I just say school night?

11:54:50: Head to bathroom to wash face, brush teeth, etc. etc.

11:58: Get into bed with Jen’s new book.

11:58:09: New Song!!

11:58:10: No. Freaking. Way.

11:58:11: Jump out of bed and begin to dance.

11:58:30: Grab hairbrush and lip-synch to Manfred Mann “Blinded by the Light”

12:04: Ok, seriously, Megan. Get in bed and stay there, you have to be at work in 8 hours.

12:04:30: Fleetwood Mac begins.

12:04:45: It’s “Dreams”. Fitting since it’s way past my bedtime.

12:04:50: Continue reading Jen.

12:06: Oh no they didn’t. I KNOW they didn’t just skip “Dreams”.

12:06:10: I’m pissed and I’m tired.

12:07: An unidentifiable song begins blaring.

12:07:30: I text Adam saying I’m about to go postal.

12:08: No response.

12:09: Continue reading.

12:10: This music is getting louder (and not any better).

12:14: I call the courtesy officer pager.

12:14:30: Courtesy officer calls me right as the music is shut off.

12:14:32: Of Course.

12:14:40: Apologize for bothering her, tell her I can’t hear their music anymore, and not to worry about it.

12:14:45: She tells me not to hesitate calling her back if the music comes back to an unacceptable level.

12:15: Remember nothing after this point.

7:10: I wake up with “Blinded by the Light” stuck in my head.

image via MAZZALIARMADI.IT on Flickr

I Love to Laugh

Posted on by Megan

Mary Poppins Movie Poster

Growing up my sister and I split our weekends at our Grandmothers’ homes. This is the last in a series of two reminiscing about those weekends.

On the weekends we stayed with GranMerle, we’d make spaghetti, eat Oatmeal Creme Pies like they were going out of style, play smut, dominoes, and a host of other card games, listen to GranMerle recall moments from her childhood, listen to 8-track tapes, play with the Playmobil dollhouse, and eat the best homemade banana pudding (made by GranMerle, of course). Not to mention accompanying her to her weekly hair appointment, playing Barbies, and generally being her shadow for about 36 hours.

But one of the things I remember most is watching Mary Poppins practically every weekend we stayed with her. [Which led me to buy it when the limited DVD edition came out]. What is it about Mary Poppins that is so intriguing? Is it the fantasy sidewalk chalk world they jump into? The practically perfect measuring tape Mary uses? The spoonfuls of sugar she encourages the children to take medicine with? Or maybe dancing chimney sweeps, which I’m pretty sure led to me inquiring to my parents about a chimney sweep of our own once or twice. There’s also that hilarious guy named Dick van Dyke…Through it all, I fondly remember Grandmerle often opening up her hide-a-bed sofa for us to pile up and watch Mary Poppins on, she would always be totally concentrated on the movie just as we were, until we bribed her for another Oatmeal Creme Pie, that is…

I don’t know if it was coincidence or not that Julie Andrews had the starring role in both movies that we obsessively watched at our Grandmothers’ homes, but either way it helped me name her one of my favorite actresses of all time. To this day, I cannot get over how much love our grandmothers gave us when we visited them. I’m sure they could quote the movies in their sleep, but they never once complained about having to watch them over and over and over again with us. There truly is nothing like a grandmother’s love.

The Hills are Alive…

Posted on by Megan

Sound of Music Movie Poster

Growing up my sister and I split our weekends at our Grandmothers’ homes. This is the first in a series of two reminiscing about those weekends.

On the weekends we stayed with Ottie, we’d make homemade potato chips, walk across the street to Maxine’s Diner (now Mama Max’s) for burgers, “ice skate” on [aka polish] her hardwood floors to a Dolly Parton record, play with our aunts’ old Barbies and make their furniture out of shoeboxes, have a nightcap of Coca-Cola in a small glass, and pick cherries off her cherry tree. Not to mention playing with her dog, Foo-Foo, planting flowers in her flower beds, and generally being her shadow for about 36 hours.

But the thing I remember most is watching The Sound of Music practically every weekend we stayed with her. So it shouldn’t surprise you that it is one of my favorite movies of all time. In fact, I consider the opening scene to be one of the best in the industry. It’s perfect: the blue ski, the lush mountains, the perfection in Julie Andrews’ voice. Every time I watch it, I want to be her. There are so many things about the movie that I love, like the confidence she finds in herself, because really? What is so fearsome about 7 children? Then there’s the strapping Christopher Plummer as Captain von Trapp. I mean, hello. Then towards the end of the movie there’s one of the best scenes, the talent contest. I remember Maddie and me laughing and laughing at the lady who bows her way across the stage to accept her award, then bows her way off the stage with flowers in her arms when we watched it with Ottie, sometimes even rewinding just to laugh some more.

I don’t know how Ottie never got tired of watching this movie over and over again with us. I mean even classics can get old after a while, but she was always there, in her chair doing needlepoint or a word puzzle or absolutely nothing but watching along with us. It’s just one of the many ways I remember Ottie today.

Up next? Weekends with GrandMerle…