Wednesday, September 26, 2012

elect to be civil

Fall 2012 is upon us, and I should be thrilled to smithereens. Despite not understanding the hype of a pumpkin spiced latte, I love this time of year because it means scarves transition from uncomfortable to cozy and all the Halloween merch is out in stores. [Tangent: I can see what sluttified costume will be big this year!] What I am dreading is election season.
It's not the candidates that bother me or the electoral process (Well that's a lie, one of them is kind a dullard and I think the process needs a revamp, but I digress). Freedom is nice and freedom of expression is nicer...but you know whats the nicest? Respect.

When I was driving home the other day, I started to see the oversaturation of Romney/Ryan signs starting to pop up in my neighborhood. [Tangent: I live in one of the reddest counties in Tennessee.] Despite not planning on voting for them, you know what I never thought of doing once- stealing or defiling them. Do you wanna know how many Obama signs got stolen from us 4 years ago? 6. Wanna know how many times my vigilante father called the local police to report stolen property? 6.  He felt his rights were being hindered and that these thieves were messing with his freedom of speech, which I totally understand even though I tried to make him feel better and told him that maybe they just wanted to borrow it for their own yards. In my heart, I knew they were probably just dicks. [Tangent:I do love my dad for his overreaction and for sticking to his belief system. ]

That memory made me start to dread the hurricane of insanity that is election season. People have gotten especially ass-holey and very "put up or shut up" about their views as of late...on both sides. Trust that I can get as fired up and feisty as the next person, but people get dirty this time of year. I have seen many innocuous Facebook posts devolve into name calling and mudslinging. A couple weeks back, after watching the Democratic National Convention and wishing that the guy would just put down his iPad, which he was awkwardly using as a camera, and watch Bill Clinton's speech- I wrote a brief decidedely unpolitically biased facebook status update. After several hours, it had completely run off the rails and words words that rhyme with "witch" and "bunt" were being tossed around like hand grenades. Simmer, kiddos...I was just trying to point out the misuse of one said anything controversial. [Tangent: Unless, you are Steve Jobs and think I am somehow blaspheming his i-brand. Maybe the iPhone 5 has regeneration capabilities!]

I really don't care if you are an elephant or a donkey; either side has unsavory characters so don't break the walls of your glass house. Also, at some point by your late 20s/early 30s, its highly unlikely that someone calling your party as asshole online is going to give you a sudden epiphany that will thus change how you vote for the rest of your life. I'm no sociologist, but I will wager that a persons politics have never been swayed by a meme...or even one misspelled in dirt on the back of a semi.

I stole this from my friend Rae's instagram.

Some of them are funny, and trust I have looked at them and laughed a lot...repeatedly. They are not the issue. Those people are running for office, and as public figures deserve to be scrutinized, but the personal attacks of the voters is outta control! Just because you are voting for Romney doesn't mean you're racist...and just because I'm voting for Obama doesn't mean I abuse welfare and expect the government to support me. My opinons are stronger than gas station coffee, I just see facebook as a safety zone, where I shouldn't have to be barraged with distant acquaintances calling me and people that think like me "ignorant hippies" everytime I turn around. [Tangent: At first, I will admit, I did find the neverending threads of backbiting mildly entertaining, but its old news and its just wheel spinning. Never did I think I would be so excited for mid November when Facebook will go back to being about Pinterest mamas showing their latest craft or hipsters taking pictures of their cats.]

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

from east tennessee with love part 2

Last week, on a very special blog post from That Girl in The Wheelchair, Kimmie was perplexed by a hipster chick in a candy stripers uniform... [Tangent: Do you like how I am really sticking to this whole 80s sitcom theme? Yeah...I am nothing if not consistent.]
 In keeping with the secondary theme of being utterly bewildered/awestruck, I would delve into the other odd things I saw around the tri-cities that gave me pause and/or beckoned for a photo op. [Tangent: Trust there were a lot.]  This is my second go 'round to this area, and its becoming to be something I look forward to. Its like a small town that is not completely devoid of modern necessities like Taco Bells and Old Navys. [Tangent: When I go visit my dad's small hometown in NC, those things are a much further drive. There is not too much in Raeford, NC except a Days Inn and a KFC, and it has pretty much been that way since I was a child.] cute and so gluttonous. my favorite combo. Pals in Kingsport, I will be back.

My fella was born in raised in the lovely tri-cities area, more specifically Kingsport, K TOWN DOWN! Don't misunderstand anything in this entry as me putting any blanket assumptions over on his hometown and its surrounding area, because I am not. I am merely making observations of some of the more random things I saw that fell under the umbrella of "only in Bristol."

An easy example would be the sign't we passed en route to the TN/VA line for Rhythm and Roots. Tell me if this doesnt come off as the misplaced understatement of the century. I have seen ol' JC pimped out a lot, but now he is selling mobile homes? I am fairly sure that was covered in Corinthians, but then again, I was raised Catholic, so I really have no idea what I am talking about. 

 While we are on oddly worded signs, I want to address this sign I saw and pointed out to my fella when walking around the festival. It was outside one of the business down the main drag and I had to flip it over in my head for several minutes before realizing, " really does say that." [Tangent: I get it 9/11 is not exactly all skittles and kool-aid, but I don't think this is what all that "never forget 9/11" stuff had in mind. I could be wrong.]
 Between attending amazing shows that blew our socks off and eating various confections deep fried in funnel cake batter and served out of gas guzzlers, we poked into a bevvy of antique stores. [Tangent: Color me happy that my fella enjoys antiques and ladies! That combo is rare.] I love looking through, old treasures- but I questioned some of the "treasures."  Like, if you were in the market for racist cookie jars, you would be in luck in this one store. [Tangent: They didn't have a blackface section, but they may as well have. Jamie and I even started to play a game of "spot the racism."] They also just had things very oddly merchandised.
how terrible is this? I am kind of glad it is for sale still...because that means no one is buying this to display in their home...which is how it should stay.
this is gonna be my nativity scene this christmas.
Also, where else other than Bristol Rhythm and Roots do you see a man in a pig costume playing Foo Fighters song outside a BBQ tent. NOWHERE! 

This porker wasn't the only sidewalk attraction. On every street was someone with a fiddle or juggling balls [Tangent: There was one guy dressed kinda odd wearing a top hat that we passed walking through the crowds Friday, and Jamie said to me, "That guy looks like he knows how to juggle." I suspected he also owned some devil sticks. The next day we saw him on the street corner juggling and showing off his devil stick skills. WE SO SMART!!]  Then there were really talented musicians and not so talented but adorable kids who could play one chord on a guitar that were making bank! [Tangent: In street busker world, adorability is more lucrative that talent. Lesson learned.] By next year I need to learn to play the rainstick or woodblock or something. Yes, that might take a year; I lack musical talent.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

from east tennessee with love part 1.

Today, I was smacked in the face with the realization that I had not yet written a post about my awesome weekend at Bristol Rhythm and Roots [Tangent: I feel like I borderline have too many observations to be confined to one blog entry so be forewarned that not unlike any good sitcom episode, this may leak over into a "to be continued." Trust me, you'll deal with it.] As I have commentated on numerous times, here here and here, no matter how amazing a band I am watching is, I will undoubtedly get distracted by people in the audience.

The weekend long event is more or less a melting pot of different ages and walks of life [Tangent: Although lets be honest, 99.7% of people are white. Americana music needs more crossover appeal!]. However, the result of the melting pot is not a smooth soup, but rather an awkwardly chunky stew. There are the 20 year old mini Zooey Deschannels liquid dancing with their shaggy unbuttoned shirted Shia LaBeufs. Then there are the liplinered retirees, the aging hippy contingent and then the southern WWF enthusiast types. Everyone has a swarthy beard or fancy moustache...I mean EVERYONE! It is a facial hair lovers Valhalla! [Tangent: So I know the more accepted spelling is mustache, but don't you think the "O" makes it more dignified and less pedophile? I think it does. Apparently my spellcheck on my iPhone disagrees, because it consistently changes "moustache" to "moist ache" which really takes on an altogether connotation. I digress.]
some beard action shots from the second sexiest bearded man alive: David Mayfield of the David Mayfield Parade're jealous!
Although I was not the oldest person there by a long shot, sometimes people in their early 20s make me feel so damn old [Tangent: And as Garth Brooks said, in bicolor blouse perfection, "I'm much too young to feel this damn old."] I'm all for individualism and I know hipster kiddos want to express it, but is it anti feminist and old fashioned to believe that you should in the least want to look nice? I felt this way immensely as I crowd watched from sidestage at Shovels And Rope [Tangent: Thanks kindly gentleman who realized I couldn't see shit from the back of the tent and ushered me right up front. WHEELCHAIR CARD EXECUTED FLAWLESSLY!]

one of the most amazingly unexpected performances of the weekend!
Sometimes I just question people's motivation for things. Example: A girl at the above show was wearing a candy stripers uniform as a dress. I feel like it would be one thing if she just got off her volunteer duties [Tangent: Although I was a hospital volunteer the first summer after my Freshman year in college and I just got a lab coat and not a red and white striped dress like Lisa Turtle in that episode of SBTB when Zack got overly melodramatic and thought he was gonna die during knee surgery.],
but I am almost positive that she just thought it was a jumper when she happened upon it at goodwill. Of course I took a picture, because I felt the need to chronicle everything. [Tangent: Oh, you'll the "to be continued."]
this is baffling.
 so this is where I say...TO BE CONTINUED....

Joy Flood

If joy and happiness came in waves, then I would be seasick today. For months, I have been stressing hardcore about getting donations for the Alliance for Recreational Empowerment Auction that I kind of tackled as a passion project. [Tangent: Shameless plug: check out auction which goes live from 9/20 - 9/21 here!] Asking people for help is something I have to do often and I hate when I take on that responsibility of having to beg willingly, I regret it within minutes. [Tangent: I have no idea where this complex stems from because I have been fundraising all my life, and I love a good box of Girl Scout cookies or seeing my name emblazoned on a Shamrock or Hot Air Balloon at my local grocery store. It gives me warm I have no idea why I assume no one else would want to feel this same feeling of dogoodery. Guess I'm an insane person.] The whole ordeal of asking people (especially my friends) for things makes me feel insanely needy and that is one feeling I despise. Yet, on the other hand I want wholeheartedly to help. It was quite the conundrum...but the obvious answer was that I needed to get over myself and que sera sera and all that stuff and realize that it would all shake down perfectly.

Today, as auction day is just one day away, I became flooded with sweet people wanting to contribute really amazing things no conditions. The warm fuzziness is amazing. Even though event hasn't even started yet, I am already gung ho about making it an annual/biannual event. Fundraising for nonprofits is what I wanted to do when I graduated college 7 long years ago. I cannot describe the feeling that comes with pulling something like this off and seeing it through. [Tangent: Admittedly, I am a big idea kinda gal with shitty follow through sometimes... and I hate it.] This feeling of getting something done and having so many amazing creative people help me out is one I want again soon. I am a junkie for this accomplishment feeling. I think Ren and Stimpy can feel me [Tangent: Even though as a child, they made me itch.]


Wednesday, September 12, 2012

get rhythm when you get the blues

As you get older, vacations become more necessary and oddly enough fewer and farther between. Added stresses  should ideally mean more times of merriment in order to balance things out, right? Unfortunately not. Life is not fair. I know this is not a newflash, we are all well aware of the fact that sometimes things are shitty and then they get better...hopefully. This sad realization is the thing that drives people to purchase "Kitty, hang in there" posters.

Thankfully, I get a nice respite this weekend and I could not be more overjoyed and ready to get outta town. My fella and I are going to Bristol Rhythm and Roots to go get our folksy music festival on with his family. [Tangent: Although, I love concerts and try to go to them whenever possible,  I usually find festivals to be too much of an undertaking. So many people. So many stages. Sensory overload. Additionally, I am elderly and get tired at the drop of a hat, so just the thought of going nonstop for 3 days straight makes me want to vomit into aforementioned dropped hat. ] I haven't attended a festival since Everclear and Fastball were headlining on a big stage and I was fresh outta braces. That should let you know how long overdue this is.

Today when I was dumping pics of my mom's camera [Tangent: My mom daily curses the phenomenae of digital photography because it makes tangible photos harder to come by. How is she gonna brag about her beautiful grandbaby?! I hear this schpiel often.] I got even more excited about the lineup because I found some photos of The David Mayfield Parade that I had taken at Music City Roots a few months prior. [Tangent: The intention, at the time, was to blog about it, but something of great importance must have kicked it off the docket...something like vajazzling or slutty halloween costumes. You know, something with journalistic integrity.] I am waiting for this man to become a super star, because for a large bearded bespectacled man, he can shake it like no other and some of his lyrics have dissolved me into a pile of mush and/or made me want to join him in danncing my ass off.

It's gonna be a lovely weekend weather wise, perfect for optimum bluegrassines. I better cut this short because I have to pack.  I will have to break out the plaid shirts so I can fit the rootsy theme. Dresssing thematically is key. If I had the time or the testosterone, I would grow a swarthy beard!  [Tangent: It is sure to be a weekend full of fun facial hair configurations, which makes it all the more thrilling. ]

Friday, September 7, 2012

a couple that blogs together

So the other day, in this post, I kinda thought the wretchedness of my quasi modo pink eyes was at its peak. I have since learned that it could indeed get worse. After a little wikipedia'ing, I learned Conjunctivitis could be linked to cold-like symptoms in some cases. Luck must be my middle name, because I now fall into the category. Not only do I look like I am stoned all the time, but I now have a sexy weeze to accompany it and am constantly under the influence of over the counter cough medicine. [Tangent: My overseas friend, Alex, told me today that her host mom in Costa Rica has an eye infection and the doctor prescribed breast milk for it. Not sure if you drink it or squirt it directly in your peeper like some Visine, but its nice to know that if I knew someone who was lactating I would have a plan B.]

On a brighter horizon, I now have reason to be even prouder of my fella. In the last week, he has joined the cool kids table and become a blogger, and a really funny one at that. [Tangent: I realize love is blind...yadda yadda...and you are supposed to believe your significant other is talented and funny even if you are married to Jeff Dunham (I'm sorry I don't get the appeal of this guy and his array of creepy/unfunny puppets), but his blog really is quality.] Last year, my ginger had to create a tumblr account to participate in his beard growth festivities and since then, the site has been untouched. Not unlike a mind, a tumblr is a terrible thing to waste, so after much consternation, Jamie decided on a theme for his blog...something very close to his heart- not understanding the youth of America. [Tangent: This is something I completely relate to given that I had no ungodly idea who Frank Ocean, Two Chains or half the other acts on the VMAs were last night. I'm elderly...thankfully so is my fella. ] 

On a selfish level, I am thrilled for other people to see how smart and witty my sometimes quiet fella is. On a nonselfish level, I am excited to have someone else in my life understand how rewarding and therapeutic a blog can be. Something which some may deem a time waster is quite possibly the best creative outlet I have ever encountered.

So really the point of this blog post [Tangent: Aside from giving you the breast milk eye drop visual.] is just to get you to check out his blog, because if you like my stuff, you'll love his stuff. We are now officially a blogging couple. How gross is that?

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

damn your eyes

It's been about a week since I have posted and lots of interesting blog-worthy things have occurred [Tangent: Among them being my friend Beth being published on the Huffington Post site with her amazing piece on faith healing. You may remember her from this stint as my guest blogger.  I feel lucky that I roll with such a def posse. Yes, I said "def posse." Although, I have a mouthful to say about the subject of faith healing, I could never put it so eloquently or back it up with any kind of biblical fact, as I am far from a scholar in that matter. If that source material was in my hands, there would just be a lot of me saying, "leave me be, ass munch." My views are just not huff-post-worthy.], yet for some reason today I feel moved to write about the most unsavory of these occurrences that has befallen me. The reason that I have been avoiding the blaring light of my laptop screen is because I have pink eye. [Tangent: No, no one farted in my pillowcase.]

Because I have terrible luck health wise and seem to accrue every possible ailment, of course I have had this before. [Tangent: With my track record, It is truly shocking that I haven't found a way to bring back rickets or polio. ] As soon as I started getting the itch, I knew what it was the conjunctivis and a trip to the walk-in clinic, my home away from home, was in my near future.  Because my mom/roommate had been foaming at the eyes for a week, I was somewhat on the lookout for any eye irritation. In my household, my mom was patient zero. She was the gay flight attendant...the rhesus get the idea.  Soon after I acquired it, my dad did and now all of us look like we were extras in 28 Days Later.
Everyone keeps telling me that I don't look as foul as I think I do, but I really do feel like I am giving off a distinctive quasi modo vibe.

when you have this affliction, you are unable to wear contacts or eye makeup, so I now have an excuse for my not giving a damn (for a change)
Luckily,  I am armed with an arsenal of hand sanitizer and antibiotics, I am trying my damnedest to keep the evilness of pink eye contained. Lest I learned nothing from Gwenyth in a little documentary called Contagion! If you for some reason contract it at some point [Tangent: Hopefully not from me or a pillowcase fart.] your eyes are in store for about a week of that burning "smoky bar" feeling and mornings of eye crust...and days of people telling you immediately not to touch them. Also, you will be hella light sensitive. Because of this, I am gonna be cutting this blog rant short, but not before I leave you with a parting gift. This is some guy that I was told looks like my boyfriend singing my blog's title. Seemed totally apropos.

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