The soundtrack of my life...

A while back, a friend of mine posted on FB something that really got my mind to churnin'.  I don't remember the exact scenario, but it was something to the effect of my friend having a difficult phone conversation, when her daughter came in the room. Her daughter needed the room because she had a few songs on the Wii that she was going to dance to.  When the daughter saw my friend was distressed she said to her "come on Mom, let's dance it out!"  
When I read the post, my brain immediately began singing "Some days you gotta dance" by the Dixie Chicks, some of the lyrics: "When the world is feelin' just a little too tense, loosen up those reins and dance..." I sang this (unfortunately for my colleagues at work) out loud and to myself for the rest of the day.  Then I started thinking about how I have a myriad of songs I sing at various times or incidents.  Come on, I grew up in the 70's & 80's, my remaining, functioning brain cells are 98% song lyrics.  Seriously, if 1/8th of my brain cells were actually used for educational memory banks, I would probably be a nuclear physicist, or at least a forensics pathologist, by now.  Nevertheless, it seems as though I have a "theme song" for pretty much every episode, event, highlight, lowlight I experience.  
Maybe my dad instilled a strong love of music in me, he was radio DJ after all.  I'll never forget hearing "Funky Town" by L.I.P.P.S. Inc for the first time when he bought the record.  I still sing "Gotta make a move to a town that's right for me. Town to keep me movin' keep me groovin' with some energy. Won't you take me to Funky town" like I did when I was 8 years old, singing and dancing with my daddy in the living room.  At that time, my dad had just moved to Austin to be closer to my sister & me.  I'll never forget and will always treasure that time with him.  Also during that time, when my daddy would put us to bed, as he was leaving the bedroom, he would get to the light switch, turn back and look at us and sing "Turn out the lights, the party's over..." by Willie Nelson as he said goodnight and turned out the light. I still sing this to myself on occasion when I'm turning out the lights.  I was with my dad when he passed away and I sang it to myself, over & over as I was sitting with him. Maybe it was my coping mechanism. It was my turn to sing it to him.  I miss you Daddy!
Of course, there were the "Duran Duran" years of Jr. High, as my aunt will attest to.  Thanks Michelle, for taking me to the very best concert I've ever been to. Yes, even after all these years and many hundreds of concerts later, that one is still my all time favorite.  A couple of years ago I had the good fortune to take my youngest daughter to the concert of her very favorite band.  Hopefully she will carry that memory with her always because, now every time I hear "Jasey Ray" or "Poppin' Champagne" or "Remembering Sunday" I sing out loud because of sharing that special time with my daughter!
Speaking of my kids, both of my girls names came from music.  When Eden was born, the one song that "sang volumes" to me was "Garden of Eden" by Guns & Roses: lyrics: "This fire is burin' and it's outta control.  It's not a problem.  You can stop and rock & roll."  This was and still is comforting to me because it  reassures me that, no matter what's going on or happening in life, it's ok to stop and listen to the music. Then there's my sweet blond one, Sierra Rey.  She was almost named Stevie Rey in honor of my all time favorite female singer, Stevie Nicks and her dad's favorite, Stevie Ray Vaughn.  She was born two days before the anniversary of Mr. Vaughn's death (God rest his soul) so we thought it best not to name her completely after him and changed it up a little.
Even during a dark time in my life (also known as divorce) there was Hank Williams, Jr. and me singing "Whiskey bent and Hell Bound"...Let's just say I'm glad I lived through that period.  Pat Green's "In the middle of the night" helps verbalize it with lyrics: "And I could fly away from feelin' All this pain that still ain't gone Oh but flying's kind of risky When your wings are made of whiskey And I know that I'll come crashing down Just after the dawn" And crash I did.  But, again, I lived through it and am now able to have healthy, strong relationships with those I love.
One of these days I will share my all time favorite love story ever, that of Marcus & me and how we eventually came to be married.  Until then, I'll tell about when we were 15 years old, cruising around west Texas in his brown '78 Z28, blasting Led Zepplin on his 8-track player.  "Stairway to Heaven" still brings a tear to my eye every time I hear it.  I remember parked in the Burger King parking lot, under a giant tree, counting out "Burger King bucks" (this was YEARS before gift cards were invented) that he'd gotten as a Christmas gift on his paper route, to pay for our food.  He can even tell you the family that gave him the gift and exactly where they lived, just a couple of houses down from my grandmother.  It was at that exact moment I realized Marcus was going to be a significant part of my life.  And yes, Marcus still likes to scare the bejeezus out of me with his crazy driving, just as he did on those back country roads of west Texas, taking curves at 80 mph...drives me crazy is what it does!
Now, of course my soundtrack must include...Jack Ingram, duh!!  "Keep on, Keepin' on" is my ultimate theme song, lyrics: 


Sometimes you get beat up good
Drive yourself crazy being misunderstood
Sometimes you want to throw the towel in
But you come swinging like you just might win


Keep on, keep on keepin' on
Push it on down the line
Keep on, keep on keepin' on
Keep from gettin' further behind

Music is in my soul and blood.  Y'all better be glad I can't read music or sing a tune...I'd be just dangerous enough to take over the world if I could! 
There's no way my soundtrack is complete.  I still have to take that road trip to Memphis, to check out some authentic blues clubs and great BBQ, Suzanne and I always talked about taking.  That trip will certainly be in loving memory of her, and I will fulfill my promise to her to sing "Walking in Memphis" on Beale street. 
There's so many other milestones I am eagerly anticipating tagging songs to - like the girls graduating and getting married and having babies of their own (many, many, many years from now, please ladies!)  Marcus & I have travel plans for anniversaries that will of course add to our "greatest hits" collection.  
And in order to continuously develop my wonderful compilations, no matter what life throws at me, I'm just gonna "Keep on, Keepin' ON"!!!

Unwanted house guests....at 2am!

There are advantages to living in the country.  It's very quiet and peaceful.  We can sit outside at night and see a sky full of stars.  We can play music really loud and watch movies in surround sound so loud it rivals most THX movie theaters.  We don't worry about intruders, of the human kind anyway.  Which brings me to one disadvantage of living in the country.

We have two cats, both of whom enjoy "catting around" at night. There's Sadie, (whom I have called "Satan" since the first day we adopted her.)  She's a beautiful cat, all white with a calico tail.  This cat lives to torment me and she is quite possibly Satan in feline form.  On more than one occasion she has perfectly timed a dart in front of me as I'm walking, causing me to trip over my own feet to keep from punting her across the room.  Once, she did this and caused me to slip and blow out one of my favorite flip-flops (yes, I saw this as the perfect opportunity to sing Jimmy Buffet out loud "blew out my flip-flop, stepped on a pop-top but my poor heel had to cruise on back home, but soon it will render, there's booze in the blender, of that frozen concoction that helps me hang on...Wasted away again in Margaritaville...)

Then there is Zoey.  Marcus brought her with him when he moved in and she has become a part of our family.  And I smile to myself at how irritated Marcus gets when she chooses to sit or lay down with me instead of him.  She’s a gorgeous grey tortoise shell calico and definitely has a mind of her own.  When she wants to go outside she lets us know by climbing on tables, cabinets, counters and just starts knocking stuff off.  She knocks off books, keys, papers... this is her way of saying "let me outside or I'm going to destroy this house." Now, this is the complete opposite of Sadie, who has her unique way of letting us know when she wants back in the house.  She does this by launching and attaching herself to the screen of the window on my side of the bed (I'm telling you, this cat has a vendetta for me.) When she's latched on to the screen she starts to heave herself back & forth, knocking on the glass while occasionally screeching her claws. Which, when I'm dead asleep, not only sounds like a herd of elephants trying to get through the window but also like a screaming, dying whale at full volume.

Because the weather is getting nice and because we don't want to be up every hour of the night letting one cat out and one cat in, we keep a window open just enough for them to traipse in and out at their leisure. I'll admit it, I laughed out loud when Sadie tried to jump in the window, but the window was closed.  I figure I can since she probably laughs at me every time she trips me.  And yes, they have brought in the prize catch, like a lizard or small snake, from time to time.  They do this even when we let them in the normal way, through the back door.  I’m used to this.  I know it comes with having cats.

What I am NOT used to, however, is when the cats bring home a MOUNTAIN LION!  Two o’clock this morning and I wake up to what I swear is ROOOAARRRINGG coming from the living room, hissing that sounds like spit and fur are flying at tornado level speeds.  There’s also some banging and knocking that sounds like a construction zone, tearing down the wall.  Add to this my sweet, perfect Chihuahua, Lola, barking full force.  “Just what in the sam hell is going on?” I think to myself as I reluctantly leave the warm bed to investigate.

Here’s the scene I walk up on:  Lola is barking so hard she’s scooting herself across the wood floor.  Both of our cats are Halloween’ed up, every strand of fur standing on end, hissing and growling and roaring.  And then there’s Marcus…broom in hand, alternating between waving it high above his head, missing the ceiling fan by mere centimeters, to down on the ground, poking and sweeping the broom handle under the couch & love seat.

“What are you doing??” I ask, probably not nearly as frantic as I should be.  I can’t imagine this being a normal scene in anybody else’s house, but for some reason, I’m not in panic mode…just yet. 

To which Marcus replies “Either get in here and help or get out of the way!”  To illustrate just how unfazed I am, I stroll over to the couch and sit down at the laptop…because, apparently, I see this as the perfect time to check my email and Facebook.

“YOU ARE NOT HELPING AND YOU ARE IN THE WAY!!” Marcus hisses as he attempts to move the couch I’m currently sitting on. Then I hear it again, the mountain lion-esque roar, coming from the corner where the couch and love seat intersect.  “WHAT was that?” finally, my panic emotion has shown up to this party.  I’m pretty sure I flew the distance from where I was sitting to bedroom door, turning around just in time to see a flash of grey dart from the corner and sail towards the front of the house, in the opposite direction of the open window.  I’m certain now my panic is running full throttle because I could have sworn the animal that has invaded our house is a cross between a wooly mammoth and saber tooth tiger.  I’m sure I saw fangs 4 inches long.  Marcus, with our gang of ferocious felines and hopping/scooting/barking dog, bringing up the rear because she can't quite get traction on the hard wood floor, all take off in that direction.  The only thing I can imagine is all of them coming back, bruised, scraped, bleeding, tattered and torn. 

However, Marcus returns, holding close a small, scared out of his mind, grey tabby kitten.  “Awwww….is he ok?”  Just as I ask this, our animals round the corner, hissing and growling and barking, scaring the poor kitty so bad, he leaps from Marcus’ grasp, scratching his chest, almost drawing blood and dives right out the open window.  Both of our cats immediately dart through the window after the poor kitty, while Marcus and Lola go barreling out the back door – the cats are growling, the dog is barking and Marcus, standing in his boxers, is saying “get ‘em Lola, sic him!”  I don’t think that cat will ever, ever venture into our backyard again.  Poor guy, he was kinda cute and I’m sure, if our animals had been a tad more hospitable to our guest, we might have considered letting him become a member of the family.

After all the excitement has died down, the cats both on the back porch, standing guard and Lola snuggly back under the bed covers, shimmying into her spot between our knees, Marcus says “you’re going to blog about this, aren’t you?”

“You bet your sweet ass I am…I can’t make this stuff up!! You might want to put some peroxide on those cat scratches.”

I want candy....

I do believe I have had my first "old lady" experience since entering my 40s...uuggghhh.  I guess it's time for me to face the facts - I'm not a kid anymore.  This is especially difficult for me considering I've never wanted to grow up, not really.  Now, I wouldn't say I'm immature (although I can think of one or two ex's who might argue that - but that's why they are ex's - they are just stupid boys and have cooties...) I just don't think I'm ready for the changes that are taking place, like the grey hairs, the wrinkles, the achy joints, the memory loss...
I'm already as blind as a bat and I'm not looking forward to that getting worse...I alternate between contacts and glasses, depending on how I'm feeling.  Saturday morning, it was raining and my eyes were itching, so I opted for the glasses and took out my contacts.  I have one game on my phone that's easier to see without my glasses, so I had removed them to play this game.  Well, it comes time to start getting ready and I can't find my glasses...DAMN IT...I can't see a thing!  Everything around me is one giant blur.  I'm tearing up the couch cushions, feeling around the coffee and end table, knocking stuff to the floor.  I'm sure I looked completely ridiculous, but I was handicapped, paralyzed, HELPLESS because I couldn't see.  
"Marcus...I've lost my EYESSSS.....whatever happens, please promise me you'll move on with your life if I don't make it...find happiness with someone who has the gift of sight!" I was very desperate at this point.
"That's a little extreme and dramatic, don't you think??"  Asked my husband, from somewhere in the living room and I'm not quite sure where because I couldn't see him.  He may have been just to my right, at least that's where it sounded like his snickering was coming from.  So when he said this I snapped up from the depths of the couch and spoke in that general direction: "I'm glad you find this funny...I'll never be able to see the beauty of a rose, a baby's smile and you find this funny!"  As I said this, I lifted my arm to sweep the hair away that had fallen in my face during the exhaustive search..."SON OF A BITCH!!"  My glasses were, yes I'm serious....ON MY HEAD.  I've just had my first old lady experience, *sigh*.  So I suck it up and put my glasses on, only to see my husband had actually been to the left of me and was now doubled over with laughter.  I didn't want to know if it was because of me shouting at an empty space instead of in his direction or because of the location of my glasses.  Either way, I had once again given him a good laugh.  
Later that day, we met up with my mom, sister and my amazingly adorable nieces.  I was retelling my glasses story so my mom and sister could maybe feel sorry for me just a tiny bit.  No such luck.  They laughed.  Fine, I'm glad I could share and make them laugh.  Anyway, I have the cutest, smartest, precious nieces!  Laney is very girly-girl and dainty.  Riley is a definite "tom-boy" in the making.  Wonderful girls!  Riley is going to be the one my sister & brother in law really have to watch and prepare for.  For example, she is 3 years old and has still has some trouble saying certain words, "wes" means "yes," "wook-it" is "look-it" and there's a couple of others.  One thing about this kid, she's as sharp as a tack and knows way more of what's going on for a 3 year old than we give her credit for! My sister said that one time she asked Riley what she wanted for her snack for their movie night...Riley's reply, clear as a bell, no doubt what was said, she might as well be a phonetics instructor: "I want candy, m*&her f#@*er"....That's right!  According to "A Christmas Story" movie, she said the mother of all words. She said the "MF" word.  The kid is slick and she knows it.  She had obviously put effort in practicing this pronunciation and now carried out her mission with gleaming satisfaction...How do I know this?  Why do I think the kid knew exactly what she was saying?  Here's why: The day after I told my lost eyesight story to my mom, sister & the girls, we were at dinner with them (my mom was watching the girls because my sister was out of town on business...)  We were getting ready to leave the restaurant and Riley looks across the table at me and slighty tilts her head to the side, cracks a devilishly crooked smile, cocks one eyebrow up and says to me (again, clear as a bell...) "Lara, do you know where your glasses are???"  Then throws her head back in what I swear was maniacal laughter.  What the hell??  What did she just say to me??  The 3 YEAR OLD was mocking me!!! She completely understood everything I had said the day before about my glasses episode...why was she choosing this moment to torment me?  Was it because I scolded her for taking a bite out of a chip and tried to put it back in the basket?  Was it because I made her go to bed at 9pm those nights I babysat for them?  Why, Riley, WHY??? I slowly reached up to the top of my head....yes, there sat my sunglasses.  She was toying with me now....well played, Riley...well played.