Truth time and I’m Still Here

Truth time:  I’ve written over 50 songs in the last few years.  I’m not really sure how many.  I don’t post many of them on here for one simple reason: time.  I’m a mom with a full schedule, it’s difficult to find the time to get a semi-decent take to post on here.

More truth:  My husband has a very nice recording studio that I could utilize whenever I want.  But I have even less time for that.

But I want to make more time for recording.  And I want to make some actual good recordings.

I’m working on it, guys.  Give me a break.  😉

Anyway, until I get around to making decent recordings, I’m gonna try to make more time to post my semi-decent iPhone recordings.  At least you’ll get to hear those gems.

So here’s another one for you.

I’m Still Here.

But first, the backstory:

Some of you know that my mom passed away April 3, 2016 after a two year battle with cancer.  I wrote this song at a time when I was trying to make sense of it all.  I had been reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed (and watching the movie that was based off of the book) around the time I wrote this.  Cheryl’s mother also died of cancer and her story is heartbreaking.

CherylStrayed_book_PCTAnyway, there’s this scene in the movie when Cheryl has this realization.  She’s been hiking the PCT for a while (Pacific Crest Trail) and she’s still hiking even though other, more experienced hikers have quit the trail due to adverse weather conditions.  And she says, “Wow.  Greg quit and I’m still here.”  And something inside me just broke.  It’s my favorite scene in the whole movie.

(The book and movie are not for children, just FYI.  There are definitely some “fast-forward” scenes, as I like to call them.  I’m not ashamed to admit that even though I’m 36, when a sex scene shows up in a movie I cover my eyes and make Nick fast-forward.  Don’t judge me.  You don’t know my story. 😉 )

Anyway, that’s where the words “I’m still here” come from.  It’s this realization that even though we’ve been battered, bruised and beaten by the storms of life, we survived.  We’re still alive and here and ready to take on the next day’s challenges.  And even though it hurt a lot, we’re going to be ok.

So, without further ado, here’s the song:

I'm Still Here lyrics

 

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What happened to my glasses? (The true harrowing tale.)

If you know me IRL, you know that I need corrective lenses to function.  I’ve worn glasses or contacts since the third grade.  (SMH, my first pair of glasses…) Sometimes I go full on contacts but most times I’m really lazy and just do glasses.

About a year and a half ago I went full time contacts again and bought a year’s supply.  Then in February of this year I got down to my last pair of contacts.  I was feeling lazy again and decided not to reorder.  I’d go back to full time glasses and save my last pair for emergencies and/or dates.  And that plan worked pretty well… until… July 22nd, 2015 (otherwise known as Wednesday).

July 22nd, 2015. The day of my 15th wedding anniversary.

Fifteen years together with Nick, my sexy guitar-playing, refrigeration-business-managing, worship-leading, baseball-loving, record-collecting, father-to-my-kids-ing, partner-in-crime-ing husband.  I was gearing up for an epic afternoon of hanging with my dude and decided it was time to bust out the ole contacts.

lsp cobras

I put in my contacts and fixed my makeup and hair.  I looked smokin’.  I set my glasses in the same place I always put them when I wear contacts, on top of my makeup case, that way when I take out my contacts later they will be ready and waiting for me to don them once again.

Then I did the most normal thing in the world… I went pee.

Now, my ensuite bathroom is pretty small and the toilet is really close to the bathroom counter.  Normally, this doesn’t present any problems.  I stood (as one does) and pushed the handle to flush, at the same time grabbing a bracelet I wanted wear off of the top of my makeup case.  (You can see where this is going.)  The bracelet caught the corner of my folded glasses and flung them into the open toilet bowl just as the water swirled out, carrying my glasses with it.

That’s right.  You did read that correctly.  I flushed my glasses down the toilet.

toilet flushing gif

I literally began laughing and crying at the same time.  (Using the force and sheer will power I commanded my tears to stay in their ducts, I wasn’t about to get tear streaks all through my hot makeup job.)  To his credit, Nick waited a little while before making fun of me.  Meghan and Sammee showed no restraint, however.  Neither did our buddy Dylan who was over when it happened to watch the girls for us.  And neither has anyone else who has heard this story.  So, now that you’ve read the true harrowing tale, I don’t expect you to either.  Lawl it up.

lol gif

Today is July 25, 2015 (otherwise known as Saturday) and something pretty amazing happened today to complete the tale.

First, as you’ve probably already guessed, the toilet was unusable after that.  Nick consulted his plumber buddy and it was determined that we’d have to unbolt the toilet and lift it off the floor to remove the glasses.  This was a very sad thing for me to hear.  Not only did I lose a good pair of glasses but now I’d have to wait to use my bathroom until the unbolting could occur.  And I really wasn’t looking forward to the mess it would make.

But, as I said, something amazing happened today that changed all of that.

You see, the other day a Walmart cashier overheard me telling this story to someone else and decided to share a flushing story of his own.  He told me how he’d flushed a toothbrush down the toilet and managed to fish it out with a wire hanger.  I didn’t think much about the story until this morning when I woke up and couldn’t get it out of my head.  I went to the closet, found an old wire hanger, untwisted it and went fishing.  I didn’t have any luck, though.  Nothing was biting.

But Nick saw what I was doing and decided to give it a go… and… HE GOT MY GLASSES OUT!  UNDAMAGED!!


Not only is he sexy but it turns out he’s great at fishing glasses out of toilets!  Who knew?

So that’s it really.  The whole true story.  I haven’t decided if I’ll try to sanitize my glasses and keep them.  I went to the optometrist yesterday and bought another year’s supply of contacts and ordered new glasses so having my old ones back is just an amazing bonus.

I have learned one very valuable lesson from all this though: Always shut the lid before flushing.

P.S. If you haven’t done so yet, check this out. It’s amaz-zaz-zing.

P.P.S. I have mailed out all the cameras but there’s still time to get yours.
winking taco

P.P.P.S. I’m putting together a little give-away, so stay tuned to this bat channel for a chance to win big.

Cream Cheesy, Lemon Breezy

lemongrabI am the worst blogger ever.

Okay, that’s probably a little over dramatic.

When I set up this blog I decided I wouldn’t have a deadline because I didn’t want to make this blog my whole life, I could post as little or as much as I wanted.  But lately that seems to be running more to the “as little” end of the spectrum.  I go on little writing sprees where I post a lot and then massive dry spells.  The dry spells are usually a result of busyness and feeling like I have nothing to say.

And the truth is… I really don’t have anything important to say.

When I write, I typically write things that I think will amuse others and make them smile.  I try to keep it all so light and fluffy.  I realized a long time ago that not many people actually want to know the deep things inside other people.  I think social media has a lot to do with that.  We all work so hard to put on our best face on the internet.  In fact, so many people put on an even better face on social media than what’s actually going on in reality.  It’s the game, baby, and that’s the way the game is played.  So keeping it skin deep, all nice and pretty in a funny little package… that can be so hard to do sometimes.  Every little cream cheesy thing I think about posting seems so D-U-M-B, dumbah.

Idk when I’ll write again but I want to write more.  I think of things to post all the time.  I might actually set a deadline for myself.  Make this thing a weekly after all, forcing me to write something and post it.  I’ll get back to you on that for sure.

Anyway, I’m gonna peace out.

Have a lovely life.

Secrets, secrets are no fun… Who am I kidding? They’re totally fun!

Everyone has secrets. They can be funny, or embarrassing, disturbing, or even criminal. The list goes on and on. 

Why is it that people are so interested in finding out other people’s secrets? I, myself, have always been drawn to mystery and detective stories. I love/hate it when I solve the case before the hero. I love it because it makes me feel smart and superior to everyone else. But I also hate it because that means I’m smarter than the hero of the tale and know the end before it happens which is pretty anticlimactic.

I also love/hate it when I can’t figure it out and then the solution turns out to be incredibly obvious. I love it because that makes it that much more suspenseful and the hero of the tale is worth my admiration because they actually did solve the case. But I also hate it because that means I’m stupider than I thought I was, I mean, it was staring me right in the face the whole time.

But that’s all just in stories. Real life secrets are usually much more mundane. The real reason they become secrets is that they’re far too boring to tell anyone. You never say anything and so it just remains your own little secret.

I have secrets, just like everyone else. Some of mine are really boring, some are sad, some disturbing. None of them are criminal. (At least I don’t think so.) And as I sit here trying to think of secrets I wouldn’t mind sharing here in this post, I am struggling. The real secrets, the disturbing ones from my past are much too private and personal and honestly, I don’t want to share them with anyone. I don’t want to share the sad ones either. They’re sad! I don’t want to bum anyone out. And the boring ones are, well, boring. It’s the kind of stuff people post in “25 Things About Me!” on FB. They aren’t real secrets, just the stuff other people don’t know that you secretly think is very interesting about yourself. (But no one else does.)

So I’m going to sit here and think of one real secret about myself that’s:

  1. Not too personal (Cuz you gotta buy me a steak dinner before we get that real.)
  2. Not a bummer. (No one likes to be bummed out.)
  3. Not boring fluff that no one cares about. (Cuz no ones cares about those. Duh.)

But to qualify as a real secret it has to be something I don’t necessarily want people to know, something that makes me a little uncomfortable to share. I also don’t want to share anything that could hurt someone by reading it. This little secret sharing experiment is meant to be fun, after all! So this is going to take some time. 


But while I’m thinking you get to become a time traveler. I’m going to sit and think about this. It could take hours, days even. But you’ll get to read what I’ve come up with right now, in fact, by the time I finish this sentence…

Ok. I’ve got it. After much inner debate (and the opinions of 3 other people), I have decided to tell about my first experiences with alcohol. It goes like this: (Drop the beat)

I was just a girl, at the tender age of 14. (I’m beat boxing in my mind as I tell this.)

My parents held their first Messianic Seder. (It’s Passover but with Jesus.) Because of Passover there was a lot of wine in the house and there were so many people my folks didn’t notice that I drank 4 glasses of wine that night. Needless to say, I was completely buzzed by the end of the night. 

A few days later, after Passover, I realized there was still quite a bit of wine left. I started sneaking sips of wine here and there when I was alone in the kitchen. I wasn’t drinking much so I figured no one would notice. 

But they did. 

My parents called my sisters and me into the kitchen to ask who had been drinking the wine. My sisters, of course, denied it and so did I. The only difference being that I was freaking lying. 

Now, the way I remember it, mom and dad weren’t satisfied with all those denials, they wanted someone to ‘fess up. So I suggested that one of my sisters’ friends (who were pretty young) had perhaps thought it was juice and accidentally drank some. That seemed to do the trick and it was never brought up again. I was much more careful from then on. 

My parents still do not know this story. But since it’s been 20 years since that happened,  I’m hoping if they read this blog they will find it in their hearts to forgive me. 

So there it is. Not my deepest, darkest secret. But hopefully you found it humorous and maybe a little revealing. 

I think discovering someone else’s secrets humanizes them for us and boosts our self-esteem a little.  We know all of our own faults and evils but unless someone tells us theirs or we discover them on our own, we might begin to think they don’t have any or that they are somehow better than us. 

Let me confess to you now that I have many faults and evils. I am keenly aware that no other man on the face of this earth could be as kind and understanding and forgiving of my many sins as my dear husband. I am truly grateful that even now, 15 years later, after hearing all of my secrets over the years, Nick still loves me and wants to be married to me. That’s freaking nuts, baby! 

But that’s nothing compared to my heavenly Daddy. Dude, he doesn’t just know all my messed up stuff, He witnessed it! WITH HIS OWN EYES. And, yet, He loves me, forgives me, redeems me, cares for me, provides for me. That’s not just nuts, it’s like face-explosion, nuclear brain mushroom cloud, bananas, Carl! Man, that’s so awesome. Just thinking about it is making me all “hot-fudge-brownie-sundae-with-hot-marshmallow-goo” inside my heart. 

Secrets are crazy, baby! But it’s your turn now. I wanna know one of your secrets. Leave me a comment, chuck me an email, text me, call me or whip it through the snail mail. Make it as juicy or fluffy as you like. I ain’t judging. And I won’t tell anyone what you told me neither. (Unless you ask me to. Haha) Open the luggage of your soul and let me have a peek inside. Unburden, baby. It’s gonna feel good, I promise. 

I’m peacing out now, yo! Love, kiddies!