Day Twelve – A Song From a Band I Hate:
Ugh. Hate is such a strong word. So even though I think there may be some really bad songs out there, I don’t think I can truly hate a song. Or a band. Or even any particular artist.
And yet … I can have a strong dislike for songs that are “presented” poorly (like the original version that I refer to in this post). Or I can dislike a performer that is misrepresented as an “artist.”
Day Two — My “Least” Favorite Song:
I actually had a hard time trying find a least favorite song. I think it’s because I inherently believe all songs have redeeming qualities.
(Huh. Come to think of it … I think anything or anyone in the world has some redeeming qualities. You just have to look for it … )
Take Rebecca Black’s song “Friday” … This is that song and video that went viral on the internet after critics and viewers on “the webs” claimed that it was the worst song ever written. So yes … I was one of those fools that clicked on Rebecca’s video and watched in horror as the song played out. And I confess that I thought that it was a pretty bad song.
I’ve been MIA for close to six weeks now.
And if it weren’t for the fact that my domain name was up for renewal, I probably would have stayed MIA for even longer. So thank you to Hubby (and to a few other folk out there who inquired about how I was doing) for pushing me to update this piece of cyberspace.
See, the thing is … I’m not quite sure to write about these days. Lately, nothing seems to inspire any urge to write. I’m sure I do have things to say, but it seems so trivial compared to what else is going on in the world. Or what else is going on in my life.
Between traveling for my job and spending a lot of our time in Detroit, I’ve hardly had enough time to catch up on all the TV shows we’ve had DVR’d since before Thanksgiving. So yeah … being in Chicago these past few days, I’ve spent my downtime watching my shows.
Now … is it me? Or does it always seem that when you’re going through something personal that the news or even certain TV shows seem to center around those personal issues? For instance, I’m sure a few of my IF friends can relate to the storyline surrounding Audrey & Jeff in “Rules of Engagement.” For me, it happens to be Marshall’s latest storyline in “How I Met Your Mother.”
As it happens, one of the first few episodes I “caught up” with following my Dad’s funeral was the episode where Marshall and Lily, who have been trying for the past few seasons to get pregnant, finally go to see an Infertility Specialist. Watching their trials to start their family have, at one time or another, touched that part of me that still mourns the fact that I’ve never been able to get pregnant.
But this episode … well, the ending definitely surprised me. That was when we find out that Marshall’s Dad had suddenly died from a heart attack.
Talk about art imitating life. Nothing could hit closer to home at that moment than the look that Marshall had on his face when he was told of the news. And as if I hadn’t cried enough over the past few weeks by that time, I found myself with big crocodile tears as the credits rolled by.
And since then, the episodes of “How I Met Your Mother” have somehow managed to make me cry in some way or another. Like the one where the gang tries to cheer Marshall up during his Dad’s funeral. Or the one where Marshall was too preoccupied with trying to be the environmental lawyer that he had always told his Dad he’d be.
Then there’s the “Desperation Day” episode. Lily decides to fly out to Minnesota to be with Marshall on Valentine’s Day. Marshall had been back at his childhood home since the funeral to “help” his mother adjust to life without his father. What Lily finds when she arrives is that Marshall’s way of “helping” included him experiencing a bit of “Revertigo.” In other words, he reverted back to the high school version of Marshall; he began to ask his Mom to do everything for him: make his lunch, do his laundry, etc.
During a conversation Marshall had with Ted (in the midst of playing old video games in his childhood bedroom), Marshall randomly turned to Ted and said, “I miss my father.” And Ted answered, “I know.”
Then Marshall relayed the story of a memory he had of taking long road trips with the entire family. And how many times he’d find himself the only one awake to keep his Dad company while he drove through the darkness of night. Marshall told him how he could never see anything in front of the headlights during those pitch black nights, but he always felt safe because his Dad was driving. And he was a superhero that could see way out into the darkness. But now that his Dad was gone, things are just pitch black … and he could no longer see anything in front of him. And he couldn’t see where he was going.
And that’s really what it is; I miss my father. I miss the simplicity that life was when I was back in high school … even if I didn’t think life was anything but simple at the ripe old age of 15. I wish I could go back to when I could sit in front of the TV and watch old reruns with my Dad asleep on the couch. I wish I could have him make his famous “Daddy’s Chicken Noodle Soup” on the days I was feeling sick.
I especially miss the car trips we’d make to London, Ontario (or even to the East Coast) to visit family … where I found myself the one who’d stay up with my Dad to keep him company. To sing songs on the radio just to keep him awake.
And now, I feel lost. Like Marshall, I can no longer see what’s in front of me; no longer feel the urge to do the things I normally like to do. Like knit or crochet. Or write.
But I know that this is normal; that I’ll eventually be able to put one foot in front of the other and move on. And I guess that’s why I’m making the effort to do those activities I’ve enjoyed in the past. The same ones that helped me work through the loss I’ve felt about Infertility.
For now though, I’m going to continue with my grief for just a little longer. Well … truly, I’ll grieve for as long as it takes me to grieve. But the point is, I know what I need to get back to in order to return to some sense of normalcy.
And I know that’s what my Dad would have wanted.
There’s this episode of “How I Met Your Mother” that Hubby & I recently watched. It’s the episode in which Robin meets up with her Canadian High School boyfriend; a boy who broke her teenage heart in his van after playing a gig with his band, The Foreskins**. She confesses to her friends that the minute she set eyes on him, she suddenly felt like she was sixteen again; complete with the excitement and butterflies that a “first love” could only elicit. But not only that, Robin found herself acting exactly like she did at that age.
Marshall, in his wise ways, had developed a term for this type of behavior. He called it “Revertigo” … a phenomenon in which a person reverts back to his or her former self when around certain individuals from their past. In this episode, he uses Lily as an example; having her invite her old high school friend, Michelle, who brings out the “gangsta” in her whenever they’re together. But once separated from one another, they revert back to their normal selves.
Hubby and I could not stop laughing during the entire episode.*** It was something that we both know happens to me when I get together with my Canadian cousins. When we get together I somehow slip back into this version of myself that I can only call “The American Cousin” — all brash and outspoken with a hint of arrogance (not intentional, of course). But not only that … for some strange insane reason, I also find myself speaking in a Canadian accent; complete with long O’s (as in “sooorry”) and unconsciously adding “eh?” to the end of all my sentences.
Seriously. We could be in the heart of the continental U.S. and I could suddenly be mistaken for a Canadian!
The thing is, when experiencing “Revertigo,” every fiber of you begins to revert back to that place and time. All the good and the bad. All the excitement of being at the age that you were and all the insecurities you may have experienced at that time.
Proof that I was a GleeK in high school
This Saturday is my 20th High School Reunion. And while I debated for a verrrry long time about whether I’d attend, I finally decided that I would skip out on the festivities. I can say that I did it for a number of reasons. The easiest being that I didn’t feel like shelling out the money to see people I really didn’t know that well twenty years ago. Or that I only wanted to see certain people from my graduating class; ones that I’m not even sure will be in attendance.
I’ll admit that both of those reasons are indeed true; and — in my eyes — valid, as well. But the primary reason is this: I’m just not at the best place that I want to be in my life at this exact moment. I don’t (nor will I likely ever have) the children that I know most of my classmates already have. I don’t have that beautifully maintained home with a well-manicured lawn that my suburban counterparts will also likely have. And I certainly don’t have the job / degree / success in my life that I thought I’d have by this time in my life.
But I was also a HS Hottie (along with future-SIL), too!
And seeing that this past spring and summer were beyond stressful**** I’m feeling just a leeetle insecure with myself.
If the phenomenon known as “Revertigo” is true; then all those insecurities and lack of self-confidence I currently have at this point in my life will be twenty-times magnified … like everything tends to be during those “puberty years.”
Oh, I’m not naïve enough to know that my classmates likely feel the same way about themselves in some capacity or another. If anything, I certainly believe that most of us, in our late-thirties, feel like we haven’t accomplished everything that we thought we would have over the last twenty years.
No, really. I simply don’t want to attend for this simple reason: I’m trying to avoid feeling and acting as if I’m in high school again. And seeing that I’ve had a few major curveballs thrown at me over the past six months, I don’t know if I’d have the strength to combat this bout of “Revertigo.”
Class of 1990
One more thing and I’ll go back to being a 38 year old Gen-X slacker … my lack of desire to attend my high school reunion, by no means indicates that I don’t want to see those people I considered close friends during my teenage years.
The way that I look at it is this: If I hadn’t already found you via Facebook (or any other means of communication) … this simply means that you don’t want to be found. And I can respect that need for privacy. And if we were meant to find our way back to one another, then we’ll find each other when the time is right.
To me, friendship is all about every day life; and there shouldn’t be a need to make a big formal deal about it.
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Related Posts:
Emily gets “Donald Trump’d”
Emily gets a phone call
Emily gets her a$$ “U’Hauled”
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** “There were four of us. And we didn’t wear any shirts.” At least that’s how the band name was explained. LOL!
*** Mainly because Robin’s ex-boyfriend was played by James Van der Beek of “Dawson’s Creek” fame.
**** A quick recap:
Well, I think I’ve finally turned the corner on this whole cold/congestion thingy. I’m not as wiped out as I was before, and my taste buds are finally turning back to normal.
Except now I think I may have passed it on to Hubby. Boo.
I’ve nothing exciting to talk about, other than it’s been over a month now that I’ve been unemployed. I’ve got a few interviews set up for mid-June that look promising. Plus I had a second interview for that other job I’m really interested. So at this time, there’s nothing to do but apply for more jobs and wait.
Funky Shot from Woodward Ave last summer
I’m in a little bit of a dry-spell creatively right now. I’m not sure if it has to do with the overall funk I’ve been in lately, or if all the snot hasn’t cleared out of my brains yet. Either way, I’ve found nothing that has struck me inspirationally (is that even a word?).
When I get in these moods, I find that I end up either a) wanting to read a fluffy, no heavy-stuff type of book, b) mindlessly knitting a project that I probably will never end up finishing, or c) watching a lot of television.
This time around I’ve opted for “C.” At first it was because it was May “sweeps” with tons of season finales; but now that it’s officially June, I suppose I have no excuse.
One day was an entire day of watching Amazing Wedding Cakes. Another day was Cake Boss. (And it’s no wonder I’ve been craving cake since then … )
I should add a disclaimer here: Lest you be worried about me doing nothing else but watching TV, just know that I haven’t. In fact, most days the television doesn’t get turned on until 6 pm or later. Give me a little credit here, peeps! During the day, I am looking for employment!
Anyhoo … it seems of late, that there has been a running theme in what I’ve been watching. Or rather … themes , since one of those themes has to do with medicinal marijuana and how to get “licensed” in growing and selling such a product. But that’s not the theme that seems to be most prominent.
Lately, every show I’ve watched has touched on the topic about being happy with the job or career that one or another TV character has chosen. In each case, every character had either talked about doing something they’re more passionate about or spoke to someone else about how they previously had a job that didn’t satisfy them until they went into the career that they were in now.
I can’t help wonder if these TV shows are talking directly to me. Or, in the unemployment state that I’m in right now, I’m just more sensitive towards that topic. Either way, it has me questioning what I’d be happiest doing with my life; especially since the proverbial door is wide open right now.
One of my favorite Funky Shots
Except now there’s the worry of money. And health benefits. And food and shelter. And all the other necessities in life.
Oh, and let’s not forget I have no idea what I’d be happiest doing in my life. Other than lounging on a beach in Hawaii.
Hmmph. When did I start to become so responsible?
In any case, I’m hoping that I snap out of this creative funk soon. Maybe embracing my inner geek at WordCamp Chicago will help … well, it’ll help me jazz up my WordPress-powered blog, anyway. At least I hope it will.
What about you, peeps? What do you do when you get in a creative funk? And more importantly, what do you do to get out of a creative funk?
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Although this post is not directly related to completely geeky pictures of me, I figured I might be able to get away with linking this to Aunt Becky’s latest game. After all, these are pretty lame high school pictures of me …
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It’s Tuesday night and I’m watching a rerun of one of my other new favorite TV show, “Glee.”
Yeah … the caption underneath says it all!
I know what it must seem: that I have no life other than watching TV or movies, Facebooking, and blogging. Which, in addition to work, is pretty much accurate. But I’m okay with that. Really.
Anyway, I love “Glee” because it reminds me so much of being in high school and the search for belonging to something. Not that I belonged to one particular group or another back then. Even though I had my core group of friends, I managed to surprisingly float amongst all cliques.
But “Glee”? It brings me back to Varsity Choir and Drama Club. It reminds me of the days where a good friend, K and I used to hang out in the Sophomore hallway listening to some Dead Milkmen and Bauhaus on our Walkmans. It also reminds me of the days where a couple other friends and I used to harmonize quite a few early Depeche Mode and Erasure songs.
But mostly “Glee” reminds me of one of the other things I love to do, which is sing. I blame it on my parents need to record me singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” (and hitting Dr. Bro on his head with the mic) at the age of four.** And the whole early-edition karaōke machine we had in the mid-80’s.
Yep, “Gleeky” Emily (front and center) in Varsity Choir
In any case, there’s been this ongoing fake pregnancy story line between the Glee Club faculty advisor, Will Schuster and his wife, Terri. This couple had been together since high school and have, for years, been trying to start their family. While one would think this infertility story would be one that I would’ve liked, it actually annoyedme more than anything. But thank G*d, the “fake pregnancy” story finally resolved with the “winter finale” this past December. Unfortunately, it ended with Will leaving his wife after all the lies she weaved.
Watching the repeat of this episode tonight, I was reminded of a line that Terri Schuster said as she made her case to “win” Will back. She said:
“It’s just … I wanted so many things that I know we’re never going to have. But that was okay; as long as I still had you.”
And the thing is, when I heard this crazy woman say those words … I completely understood her.
I understood what it meant to do anything that I could to have a family with my Hubby. And I understood how much it would mean to me to share these things … these experiences … with my Hubby. But the difference between Terri Schuster and me is that I would never lie to my Hubby at the risk of losing him.
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And now for my Lenten acts.
Senior Year … Future SIL and I were SOOO cool! LOL!
Random Act of Kindness Du Jour: It’s been a strange couple weeks at work regarding staff member’s families. Last week, one of my new Case Manager’s father passed away. And this week, another one of my Case Manager’s sisters unexpectedly passed on. To show our sympathies, our department typically sends flowers. Which is nice … but that’s not the good deed for today.
My good deed surrounds speaking one on one with the staff member whose sister passed away. This same staff member, who received the news yesterday at work, still came in to work this morning. When I spoke with her, I asked her how she felt and how she was coping. And yes, I offered to let her go home at any time. However, this staff member told me that it was probably best that she work so as to keep her mind off of the situation surrounding her surviving family members. When I pressed just a little further, I managed to get her to open up more. Without going into details, basically what I did was provide her with the support she needed as she wasn’t really getting it from anywhere else. And, while it didn’t make her feel a 100% better, at least I know I provided her with some comfort.
Gratitude Du Jour: I can’t tell you how grateful I am that Hubby drives me to work in the mornings. First of all, it allows me to arrive at work feeling less sticky and out of breath. Second, it allows me to feel less rushed in trying to make the El train in the morning. But most of all … well, it just allows me to sleep in for just a few moments longer. And anybody that knows me, knows that I love my sleep!
And with that said … I’m officially off to bed. G’Night all!!
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** Seriously, there is tape-recorded evidence of this!
I was even a Drama Club chairperson (again, front and center)
Grams from “Dawson’s Creek” has come along way. So has Carol Hathaway from Cook County’s “ER”. Come to think of it, so has Mr. Big … well, actually he’s just a recurring special guest star.
Yeah, amongst the other TV shows I’ve picked up this year is NBC’s “The Good Wife.” Now, I admit that I started watching it because I’ve always loved Juliana Marguiles since her days on ER. And I must admit that I like seeing the Chicago skyline on the small screen. What I didn’t realize until I watched the season première was that this was a lawyer show. And me love me some lawyer shows.
It must be some inherent need for me to live vicariously through these shows. Or maybe it’s just that Hollywood makes it look so glamorous. But regardless, I love listening to lawyers debate. Well, at least in court; where there’s a formality to their arguments.
You see, I’m not good at arguing. In fact, I’m pretty bad at it.
Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.
Oh, I can hold a conversation and find logic in arguing a point. I can even concede if the opposition has a strong rationale for their position. But throw emotion into it? Well yeah, then I’m a mess. And let’s face it, unless there’s that formal structure for debate … when isn’t there a situation where emotions eventually come to play?
So yeah. I suck at arguing.
I have no other reason for bringing this point up other than the fact that I love Juliana Marguiles’ character on “The Good Wife.” Somehow her character, despite her own personal mess, always manages to find a way to keep her emotions in check. And I really wish I had the talent to do that.
Guess that means I better cross “lawyer” off the list of possible new careers …
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And now … back to the task at hand.
Random Act of Kindness: I can’t believe I actually did this; especially since some days I still feel like I’m still a “tourist” in the city of Chicago. But yes, I *actually* managed to give restaurant recommendations to some visitors attending a conference in the nearby Hyatt Regency. I stumbled on the poor souls on my way out of the building this evening and they just looked so pitifully lost. So I took it upon myself to ask them if they needed any assistance … and, yeah … little ol’ me managed to help them. Yee-haw!!
Because only a “Good Wife” would put such a *great* picture of her Hubby …
Thanks & Gratitude: Can I tell you how much I love my Hubby? Not only does he drive me to work everyday (so I don’t have to feel all rushed and exhausted just getting to work), but he also manages to meet me every day at the El Station with our Kozzy-girl just so he can walk me home. AND … the poor guy is so awesome that he not only cooked dinner tonite (and most nights) but he also cleaned the cats’ litter. And if there’s any chore I hate to do the most … it would be cleaning that litter. So thank you VERY MUCH, oh dear Hubby of mine. Much much love from your Not-So-Good Wife.
One of my favorite characters is back for the season finale of Heroes tonight. As I sit here watching the show, I can’t help but think of how much Hiro reminds me of my Hubby.
On the drive to work during a warm September morning last year, Hubby & I heard that song “Her Diamonds” on the radio. I had heard the song off of Rob Thomas’ latest album many times last summer and was looking forward to seeing him in concert later in October.
However there was something about hearing that song on that morning with the sun rising off Lake Michigan that had me truly listening to the lyrics.
“Her Diamonds” talks about a woman who has reached her limits; who has gotten to the point where she doesn’t know what else to do but cry. And because the song is written from a man’s perspective, we get to hear how he deals with the emotions this woman is going through.
It’s amazing how certain songs can elicit the most visceral reactions. “Hero” by Enrique Iglesias is definitely one of those songs that will always be tied to the incredibly enduring love I have for my Hubby. And now, after finally understanding the lyrics behind his song, Rob Thomas’ “Her Diamonds” will, too.
That morning with Hubby sitting in the driver’s seat, I couldn’t help but squeeze the hand that held mine just a little tighter. Because those lyrics that Rob Thomas sings … well, they’re everything I’ve ever imagined my husband’s thoughts and emotions were during the most difficult parts of our Infertility journey.
And Honey? Just so you know, having you in my life holding my hand and heart … that’s all I can ever ask of you when my “diamonds” start falling down.
I admit it. I’m a TV junkie. Maybe it’s because I spend most of the winter evenings indoors; especially since I’m still not used to it being so dark by 5 pm here in Chicago. Or it could also be that I find myself having little energy after a non-stop busy day at work. Either way, I tend to find myself in front of the proverbial “Boob Tube” by 7 pm each evening.*
It’s also a horrible thing … this new fan-dangled device called a DVR. Because now, not only can I watch one TV series I keep up with, but I can record a second TV series that I also follow … even though they air at the same time. I seriously think I need to stop picking up new TV series and focus only on the ones I watch right now … at least until something else catches my eye.
Tonight’s line up involved recording “Fringe” on FOX while watching “Supernatural” on The CW. (Oh, did I forget to tell you I *love* watching “paranormal”-type of shows? I blame Mulder and Scully back in the early-to-late 90’s.)
For those that aren’t familiar with “Supernatural,” it’s not a show about Carlos Santana’s Grammy Award-winning album. It’s a show about two brothers who basically “hunt” demons and other paranormal figures. The ongoing story arc is that these two brothers, as dedicated as they are to each other, are supposedly destined to destroy one another. Because, and follow along with me here, the younger brother’s soul was “sold” to Lucifer (aka the Devil) before he (Sam) was even born. While the older brother (Dean), who has basically been raised to kill demons his entire life, is supposed to stop Lucifer from taking over Sam’s body in order to take over the world. What gets even more tricky is that Dean has been told that he is supposed to allow the Archangel, Michael, to take over his body in order to stop Lucifer from destroying earth (aka the Apocolypse).
Following me thus far? Okay, so moving on …
For those of you that are familiar with the Heaven and Hell, Angels and Demons lore (and no, I’m not talking about Dan Brown’s novel here) … you’d know that Lucifer is actually a “fallen” angel, and is actually the younger brother to Michael. So the whole “brother pitted against brother” aspect of this TV show’s storyline is pretty darn cool (in my humble opinion, anyway).
So in tonight’s episode there is this whole bit about free will and destiny. While both Dean and Sam have been told it’s in their “destiny” to start the Apocolypse, both brother’s have promised that they would do everything in their power to allow that from happening. Sam would consciously avoid being lead into Lucifer’s “temptations,” while Dean would vehemently oppose Michael from taking a human form in his body.**
But as Dean tells the Archangel Michael this, Michael tells him that there is no such thing as “Free Will” in life; that every little inconsequential decision and path in life will eventually lead him and his brother down the ultimate road that they’ve been fated to. I think the actual phrase Michael used was, “Free will is an illusion.”
Huh … I kinda like this quote!
Yet in spite of what Dean has been told, he still refuses to allow what “fate” has supposedly lined up for him; he still chooses to live his life on his own free will. Which … of course, makes him a hero in my eyes. Well, at least in the TV show.
Afterwards (as in right now, as I type) I reflected on the whole Free Will vs. Fate and how it pertains to my Infertility journey; how it pertains to my life. (And, yep! This is how this post relates to the whole “Ties” theme for NaBloPoMo.)
The idea of Free Will vs. Fate specifically makes me question if my journey down the road of infertility been destined all along. And if that’s the case, does this mean my decision (or “free will”) to live child-free after IF is just an illusion? A farce?
Not that I’m questioning the decision that Hubby & I have made … I know that living child-free after IF is what’s in our best interest at this very moment. No … it’s more the question of: “If that’s the case, why did we put ourselves through H*ll and back just to end up where we were ‘supposed’ to end up?”
I suppose I could always put forth the standard answer that our IF experience isn’t about the “outcome” but rather what Hubby & I have learned about each other and ourselves along the way. And, to a point, I can be satisfied with that response.
But then there’s that part of me that wholly believes that life (and particularly an American life) is all about the choices we make in life; the decision and subsequent consequences that follow. It’s that same part of me that believes that every aspect in life is about consciously making the “choices” that we believe are the best ones for us at that given moment … That, despite the times in which we all feel backed into a corner, we all have the ability as human beings to make choices.
So maybe there isn’t a black and white for Free Will & Fate. Maybe life is more of a hybrid of both. Perhaps life really is about the choices we make … which, in turn, determines the ultimate outcome of our destiny.
Either way, after watching this episode of “Supernatural,” I suddenly have this incredible urge to pick up a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book …
What about you, Blogland? What are your thoughts about Free Will and Fate?
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* See? That’s another thing I’m still not used to here in CST: Prime Time TV starting at 7 pm.
** Apparently angels must have your full consent in order to enter your body. Who knew?
Just wanted to quickly share the video from Oprah’s season opening performance by the Black Eyed Peas. This was Frickin. Amazing. Just to see how they got close to 21,000 people to do this dance was amazing!
And now I’ve got this song playing over and over in my mind. BUT … I suppose if I had to have a song stuck in my head, this is a good one to have!
(To see the “official version” for better picture quality, click here!)
