My Musical Pilgrimage

So let's just pretend it hasn't been a thousand years since I last posted. That makes it less weird to be posting about something relatively random. Okay we are just gonna dive right in here....

So I have always thought of myself as someone who was really into music. Not in some obnoxious way...not in some "How do you afford you rock n roll t-shirt, that proves you were there, that you heard of them first", way...Thank you Cake for possibly the most clever song to diss so called "Music people". But just in a way where music was a big part of my free time. A big part of my showering and getting ready and driving and wallowing in self-pity time. If there was quiet and there was music available I liked to fill the silences type of way.

So when did this change? When I moved in with Mitchell in Santa Barbara this changed. We lived in an old house that was converted into 4 apartments and the walls were literally paper thin. In a way where if you had just gotten into a huge fight with your boyfriend the night before you would be embarrassed to see the neighbor the next day at the mailbox...because he for sure heard every word! And seeing how the other neighbors were well over the age of 40...well all we heard from their side of the walls was snoring, the phone ringing and occasionally singing. Anyways so Mitch never let me listen to music so I just kinda stopped listening to music so much. Not to mention over the years Mitch seems to have become unable to think straight or function if there is music playing....so besides Disney movies with songs and Yo Gabba Gabba, we don't listen to a lot of music, sadly.

Rewind about a year ago and Mitch bought me a new ipod. I had one already but couldn't find it after we moved. The thing was, the computer I had most of my music on was also lost or misplaced after I got my new laptop and who knows where most of my CD's disappeared to, so I had very little music to put on the new ipod....depressing. Then a miracle!!!! My Mom called me about a month or so ago and said when was the last time you slept in the bedroom upstairs...."ughhhhh I don't know Christmas Eve...before that probably when I was pregnant with Olivia". "Well I was changing the sheets on the bed upstairs and guess what I found", I had no idea what she could have found? "Your ipod"......Hooray!!!!!!!

And now when Olivia Naps or Mitch and Olivia are both in bed for the night I can put on earphones on and just feel like "ME" again. Music is such a motivator for me...I can be completely exhausted and worn out but if I am listening to music all of a sudden I get a burst of energy and I can clean the whole house like a speed freak tweaker or something. Especially if I am listening to Huey Lewis and the News...I am telling you there is nothing that can't be accomplished by ole' Huey. All this music listening lately besides instilling me a sense of self and happiness and me-ness that isn't associated with being Olivia's mother or Mitch's lady has really got me thinking about why I like the music I do...because I think I have quite the odd array of musical tastes. So where did they come from? How does someone like Radiohead, Janis Joplin, Cat Stevens, Roger Miller, NOFX, Elton John, The Clash, The Violent Femmes and They Might be Giants?

If I think back to the person who is probably most responsible for my musical tastes it would have to be my older brother Eric. I recall memories of music he would blast on his stereo the way most people probably remember music their parents listened to. I don't really remember much music my parents listened to besides like The Beach Boys with my dad and an array of Andew Llyod Webber show tunes from my Mom. My brother is 6 years older than me...which sometimes felt like a lifetime away and nowadays doesn't seem that big of a deal. But when you are 10 and your brother is 16...well you can bet he isn't listening to Paula Abdul and New Kids on the Block like you are. To me, at 10, Eric seemed the epitome of cool. He could drive, he wore bolos,he wore Cool Water cologne and Drakkar Noir, he wore his overalls with one strap hanging down, he pegged his pants and he even had a cool cowboy hat in the style of U2's Bono. Sometimes when I was lucky he would let me drive with him to Carl's Jr and buy me a Western Bacon Cheeseburger just like he would order which is still the only thing I ever eat when I go to Carl's Jr.

Eric was a good big brother. I was probably beyond annoying to him but it wasn't too often that he made me feel annoying. The only times I remember him really picking on me was when I was picking on my little sister...who I sadly probably always let her know how annoying she was, lol. Sorry Katie!!!! Anyways every Saturday morning as we were doled out our chores for the day Eric would turn on his stereo and play music like U2, Depeche Mode, Erasure, The Proclaimers, Paul Simon, They Might Be Giants, The Steve Miller Band, the soundtrack to Back to the Future. I don't remember feeling overly impressed by his music especially when U2 ventured into their "Zoopra" album and always wondering what "I really like your peaches, wanna shake your tree" meant. But somehow it all stuck with me. When I did start to listen to my own music, long after Eric had moved out I found myself really listening to the same things especially U2, Paul Simon and Erasure...remember Rachel Olsen...."I love to hate you"....lol.

Then I went through a phase where all I listened to was Kool 101.5, which people in Roseville would remember was the oldies station. This was greatly influenced by Jr. High and Jamie Golden. I remember hoping they would play our favorite "Run Around Sue" by Dion. I even remember calling the Radio Station on several occasions to request the song. I also remember driving with Jamie and her dad in his flatbed truck down to Monterrey to visit her Grandpa. The truck had no radio and so her dad improvised and broke out in "California Dreaming" while we chimed in with the chorus. In high school I spent a lot of time with my oldest childhood friend Rachel. She lived right up the street from me and our parents had known eachother since forever and we had played together ever since I was in first grade and she was in second. Her parents were "music people". They had albums from Boston and The Carpenters and Simon and Garfunkle and we would make cookies or hot fudge sundaes rocking out to "More than a Feeling" on more than a thousand occasions. She also being a year older than me drove me to school and seminary when she got her license and there we would venture out into Music by The Cranberries and Everclear.

Then Rachel moved away for college and I had long since lost contact with Jamie and I had my very first boyfriend, Clark...gasp. I remember thinking I liked punk music because I liked that one song by Blink 182 that was on the radio and I liked Green Day back in Jr High. I later came to realize that Blink 182 isn't really punk music and this is when I started listening to Clark and his friends kind of music...NOFX, Rancid, Rage Against the Machine, The Offspring, The Violent Femmes etc. I mean I don't think I ever actually bought any of these albums but I always heard them and knew the lyrics and in my own way liked that music...it was never really "me" though.

After High School through Clark I was reunited with an old classmate Lindsay. Clark and Lindsay had moved in together and were step siblings. So I had an instant best friend in Lindsay who I had known since 7th Grade but wasn't all that close to back then other than talking in class and liking one another. Lindsay was into the whole Hippie type music. And while I always liked older music I wouldn't say that since Clark I had listened to much of it. Lindsay listened to The Doors, Janis Joplin, 311 and Radiohead. So while we made hemp necklaces and beaded jewelry we would listen to this kind of music. It was a really fun time in my life and Lindsay acted as the glue that kind of held Clark and I together because once she had moved out and moved on it wasn't long before Clark and I also moved on.

Then came Mitchell....oh Mitchell!!!!! I had known Mitch for quite some time before we became "Mitch and Emily". I always liked him, always thought he was cute, was never too annoyed by his ADHD like other people, and really just loved his family and visiting over there with all his siblings. Kinda reminded me of the Olsen house with all the brothers and sisters, something I always felt envious of as a middle child of just 3 and 3 really spaced apart at that. Something I had missed since Rachel was gone and we had grown apart over the years. Mitch and I did not have similar musical tastes. He seemed to like Rap and Hip Hop...something I never liked and have never grown to like. Then shortly after we got together Mitch started working at Dimple Records and he would bring home music he thought I would like...The Killers, The Postal Service, Death Cab for Cutie, The Velvet Underground, Various mixes of 60's and 70's music. Then he introduced me to The Clash and I was in love. I once mentioned liking Queen and he immediately started buying me Queen CD's and soon liking Queen turned into LOVING Queen and it was really Mitchell that brought that on. He took me to a Violent Femmes concert...not that Mitch sucks or something now but back in the start of our relationship he really was the sweetest guy and totally in love with me and would literally do anything for me. I mean we have been together for almost 10 years and have known eachother for probably 12 or 13...so obviously things aren't as magical was they once were...we both have gotten cranky and more stubborn over the years, lol. But he is my Mitchy and I love him. It's just thinking about how head over heels he was with me back then...it still makes me feel swoony!!!

Anyways so there you have it....the musical journey of me. Thank you to all of you involved in making me love the music I do. Eric, Rachel, Jamie, Clark, Lindsay and my Mitchella!!!!!

Im pretty sure most everyone knows...

At least everyone who be upset to hear the news on a blog and not in person, knows by now. So I'm just going to explain what's going on. I have written before about Mitchell and his heart. He was born with a heart defect. A right septal defect and pulmonary stenosis. He had surgery to repair his heart at 5 months old. First of all....5 MONTHS OLD!!!!!!! I cannot even imagine having to give my baby over to someone to have heart surgery, that is just a terrifying nightmare to imagine what his parents must have been feeling way back in 1981. He doesn't obviously remember the surgery but he has the scars to prove it. He has a scar that runs the length of his his entire chest almost to his belly button, he also has scars on his thighs where the IV must have been.

His heart has been pretty normal for his condition for the past 30 years, I don't think it has limited him too much in things he is capable of doing and what not. But maybe for past year and a half he has been saying that his heart felt weird or was beating strange or he has gotten out of breath doing things he normally could do no problem. He had seen a few doctors here and there and everyone always told him the same things. Basically yes your heart is acting a little funny but due to your condition it is not out of the ordinary for you to experience these episodes. So from there when Mitch would experience these weird symptoms or feel completely exhausted he was looking for what could possibly be going on if it was not his heart, according to doctors, what was the problem.

Here is where things get a little hairy. At the peak of all his "self-diagnosis" I was working quite a bit and he was home with Olivia most of the time. Since the doctors could never really pinpoint anything that was wrong and he did have a few blood and urine tests to test for other problems, I was of the opinion that he was probably tired from watching Olivia. He has never really had to watch her for more than maybe an hour and certainly not everyday. SHE IS EXHAUSTING. Also he was out of work and I also figured he was probably a bit bored and stressed out and that can make you pretty tired as well. So when I would come home from work to a tornado mess in the house and Olivia was still awake a lot of nights, not bathed and not in jammies and Mitch would have found some possible ailment on the Internet...it was irritating. This became a pretty frequent scene in the house and it was super stressful. I was working alot and not making a whole lot of money to even make it worth it...Mitch really didn't do a whole lot at home but make messes and semi-supervise the chaos of Olivia...he did cook but it seemed more of a hassle to me because he never cleans up after himself and he is a messy cook. So I would come home to a mess, Olivia starved for attention and up way past her bedtime and Mitch on WebMD telling me he must have this or that or maybe even this blah, blah. I was not very supportive of all these problems he discovered on the Internet...I figured that if the doctors said he was fine...he was probably fine. He was angry at me for not believing him and I was angry with him for spending all his time looking up symptoms online when no one had told him of any actual problem.

Fast forward to about 2 months ago. He finally found a doctor who listened and referred him to a specialist. Apparently the heart has all kinds of specialists and Mitch needed a specialist who dealt with adults with congenital heart problems who had had surgery as an infant or child. And finally Mitchell got his vindication. Not something you probably want to be right about but Mitch is pretty happy when he gets to say "I told you so".

So the problem I guess is that when they did the surgery in infancy they had to do a fair amount of damage to one of his valves just because they are so small that there really isn't a way around it. Mitch's parents were told that it was likely he would have to have something done again in the future...probably around the age of 30... well guess who's been 30 since May.So his valve is constricted and not allowing the proper amount of blood through and therefore not supplying enough oxygen to the rest of his body. Which explains why he feels tired and explains why Mitch is kinda known to be a frequent napper. I guess it just is something that has been happening gradually for a while and is now at the point since he has all the symptoms that he needs to have something done. So what's to be done? OPEN HEART SURGERY to replace the faulty valve.

The doctors of course are very reassuring that it's a totally routine thing and it happens all the time and Mitch is a great candidate because he's young, healthy, doesn't smoke, doesn't really drink...etc. But the idea of having your ribcage sawed open and your heart being touched...well that is not comforting...not to mention I have watched way too much Grey's Anatomy to believe any surgery is routine. I feel stupid and lame to be convinced by a TV drama of the variety of problems with heart surgeries...ummmm hello remember the whole Izzy and Denny fiasco...well he had a heart transplant but come on...that was tragic!!!!! I am so scared...Mitch is so freaked out...all the family rotates between "it'll be fine and OMG my baby, my brother, my mitchy".

Mitch also has not let me forget that I didn't initially believe anything was wrong with him. To me, to my defense, I never doubted that maybe his heart was acting strangely...but those other doctors said his heart was different and would be strange sometimes and that was normal. I did however roll my eyes at all the possible Internet illnesses he thought he might have...kidney failure, UTI's, bladder infections, lyme disease, valley fever, diabetes, etc. I guess maybe in retrospect it made sense he would try to find alternative explanations to why he felt so crappy since all the doctors before insisted his heart was fine. And I admit I was not supportive of all these ailments and maybe since it was his heart all along I can see why all the mania makes sense.

I do feel badly. I guess in my head I felt like I have to take care of Olivia and most of the time I take care of her alone...I don't have time to invest in crazy hypochondria when it doesn't seem to get you anywhere except negative test results. I instinctively trust doctors...my dad is a doctor. So no, in my head if a doctor says you are okay I'm not going to doubt his diagnosis. I guess this has taught me to be more realistic than idealistic when it comes to authority figures...because to me a doctor is an authority figure. It is after all called "Practicing Medicine", a doctor is just a highly educated guesser I suppose.

So I am scared for Mitchell, I'm scared for myself. I am most frightened for my child. What this means for her life. If everything goes according to plan it probably doesn't mean a whole lot other than the fact that I will most likely have to work for a while and she will be with a babysitter or daycare more than me...which is heartbreaking to me...she is so attached to me. But if something were to go wrong. I don't want that to be her life. I don't want her to never know her father, because she would not remember him at this point in the future. A little girl needs a Daddy and Mitchell is her Daddy. And she is her father's daughter...she is exactly like him in almost all aspects. She needs him to be okay, I need him to be okay. I mean Mitch and I are not always known for our ability to get along but I love him with everything in me...even when he makes me so mad, even when his ADHD is in overdrive and I feel like my head is going to explode if he doesn't leave me alone...we have been together for so long, I don't want anyone else in my life. We are both so stubborn and bullheaded...who else would put up with us? No...he has to be okay, he's going to be just fine and we will get through this and it will be okay.

So anyways that's what I have been stressed out about...angry about...sad about...overwhelmed about...in denial about...worried about. And I am a worrier, so this is like torture.

Oh and Mitch is due to have the surgery sometime in January depending on the results on more testing...which is of course not cheap since he has like the crappiest insurance ever!!!!! Maybe we should move to Canada?

And the self pity continues....

Simon and Garfunkel are so good. They really really are like excellently good at lyrics. This song combines the right amount of sadness, wallow and anger that is exactly how I am feeling....



A winter's day
in a deep and dark Decemeber;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock
I am an island

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before;
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

Drowning...

So I can't really get into why exactly I feel like I am drowning...it's not my news to blast on the Internet...but I am feeling depressed with a capital "D" the past 2 weeks or so. I am trying to rise above it...not think about it...ignore it...without much success. I have never been very good at handling stressful situations especially if there is a place to just bury my head in the sand or covers and just try to zone out until the whole thing passes. Unfortunately there is nowhere to run or hide this time. It doesn't take a lot to overwhelm me and then I just live in a world of denial and panic most of the time.

I don't know what is wrong with me but I really feel incapable of dealing with stress. I feel like I was probably sheltered from a lot of real life stresses as a kid and young adult and now when something happens that is hard to deal with I literally feel like I can't keep it together. Which is funny because I don't think a lot of people outside my family would recognize this in me...I'm pretty good at maintaining a brave face even in the midst of internal disaster. That is unless I know and trust you and then I just feel free to completely self-destruct in front of you. But it is usually in a negative way where you are more prone to be really angry at me than feel sorry for me. But my siblings were raised by the same parents and I don't feel like they are so crippled with dealing with problems...maybe it's just part of my personality...idk? I'm also not very good at letting people be there for me...I generally don't like to be touched so that can be a problem when someone's first instinct is to embrace someone who is sad. Sometimes when I am all alone and just feel overwhelmed by sadness or just cry and I think how nice it would be to just cry big sobbing heaves in my mother's arms...but I never do, I just can't for some reason. I have not done anything of the sort in a long long time.

So in short...I have some major stress coming my way in the next couple of months but it's not just happening to me it's happening to Mitch and Olivia and well...everyone I suppose. I feel alone but I don't know how to let anyone be there for me about it. I feel like I can't breathe. It's a fleeting thing that comes and goes and most of the time I am fine and other times I feel like I just want to crawl into a closet and cry. I also keep finding myself when I wake up in the morning curled into the fetal position...so that is weird, lol. I miss my siblings...for some reason I really really miss my brother. I think the last time I remember really falling apart in front of my family was when I went away to college and I was so homesick I felt like I could die. My brother happened to be in town and I remember just crying on his shoulder...it felt good. My big brother is usually a pretty silent supporter but I think that is the kind of support I respond best to...and now matter how old I get he still feels like my big brother. No matter how old any of us get I guess to me our birth order doesn't change in my mind. Little sister will always be little sister no matter how old she gets. And I am of course the middle child...so I guess that means I always gets the be the crazy one...Hooray, I don't know how much more crazy I can handle....

so anyways....not looking for a pity party just needing to get it out...

People are strange

So there is this thing in Citrus Heights they do like 4 times a year. It's basically throw all your crap you don't want/need/use/what have you out at the end of the driveway and the city will come and haul it away. I grew up in Roseville...we never had anything like this...still don't as far as I can tell. It seems pretty convenient...seems like the city may be in some ways encouraging it's citizens to not end up on an episode of Hoarders. Although here is the problem. I'm sure you are familiar with the old saying "One man's trash is another's man's treasure". Well I'm sure you can see where this is going. People start throwing their crap out there a few days before and then all of a sudden all these weirdos come out of the woodwork to look through all the crap for some sort of unknown and hidden treasures. Either that or they are are drug addicts looking for some sort of metals they can cash in somewhere for money. I mean who in their right mind does this? Obviously the drug addicts aren't in their right mind do we can just write that off as making some sort of sense. But what of these crews of families that drive around in what look like converted lawn mowing trucks snatching up all this junk. I mean you could be behind them and they will throw the car in reverse to back up to some sort of promising looking pile of junk. And they give you these looks that you are seriously inconveniencing them by being behind them in your car. Some people...I mean really!????

I remember when we first moved here they had one of these days and we threw an old washing machine and tool chest out there among other things and not even 20 minutes later the crap was gone...a full 12 hours before the garbage people came. I remember thinking how weird someone happened to drive by who wanted these things...I had no idea that people...like do this...all the time.

Moving on...this will probably make me sound horrible but there is this homeless guy that is always at the corner of the parking lot at Walmart with his sign about needing money and anything helps and God bless and what not. It is always the same guy and he looks about my age and he looks like he is probably some sort of tweaker and he is also a liar. I drove by him once...mind you he is always there...and I offered him a soda and you know what he said "well do you have any cash, I'd rather have the cash". No I don't. Why do you say anything helps is what I am thinking...and fine I'll keep my soda I wanted it anyway. The more I drive by him...the more he annoys me...the more I want to scream out of the window..."Get a job". I mean you are sitting out here at Walmart all day everyday...why don't you go apply for a job. I have worked at Walmart and believe me they will hire just about anybody. I mean you are just standing out there you could probably go push some carts. Does this make me sound really awful? I mean obviously I don't know the guy maybe he is really incapable of working...but honestly I am just really sick of looking at his face everytime I leave the Walmart parking lot.

I mean don't get me wrong I have given homeless people money before...I feel like I am charitable. I once gave this teenage girl outside of a different Walmart $20 because she was crying about how she got kicked out of her house and guys kept offering her money for sexual favors. Granted I had just had a baby and a daughter no less and the idea of her being someone's child and daughter just terrified out on the street was more for my post partum emotions to bear. What if that was Olivia one day? Mitch said that would never be Olivia and was pissed at me, convinced she was probably lying...maybe she was...but it felt like it was the right thing to do. And after I handed her the money she burst into tears and threw her arms around me basically melting into me. If she was lying she could have won the academy award. For some reason this Walmart guy just doesn't evoke alot of sympathy in me. Probably because he refused my gesture and because I am sick of seeing his face!!!!

So anyways that's all for people being strange today...hopefully this post doesn't make me seem like ungrateful selfish a-hole.

Listen up all you literary snobs out there...

Here is where I confess something. This is something I have been rather bashful about in the past. Something the "smart reader" in me would never want to admit. Something no one who reads a lot would probably admit. Something that someone who wants you to know they are "a reader" wouldn't admit. I just decided I don't care...I'm coming out there...I'm gonna say it...are you ready?

I LIKE STEPHEN KING BOOKS

It seems silly right that I would be wary to admit that? I think a lot of people who would be considered "readers" would say that they are not big Stephen King fans. I would say that almost all of those same people would be people that have only seen made for TV movies based on Stephen King books. That most of these people have never read a Stephen King book. I would wager to bet that a lot of these people also would rave about movies like "The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, Hearts in Atlantis, Stand By Me" and don't realize they are based on Stephen King books. He doesn't just write horror and science fiction...although he does do that really well.

The other day we were at the thrift store thumbing through children's books for Olivia (*sidenote I only buy childrens books these days from the thrift store, they have so many and they are usually in good shape and they are sooooooo cheap!). Anyways I don't really ever check out the other books because they tend to be a bunch of crap. But I saw a big hardbound Stephen King book, Nightmares and Dreamscapes. Huh for $2.00 I'll buy it. It's Halloween time and since my love of horror movies tended to be thrown out the window because Mitchell hates them and it's no fun to watch them alone, I can still read horror, right? I open up the book and start reading the prologue. And once again I am hit by how clever and funny Stephen King really is, how much he seems so relatable. This is what the first page of the prologue says;

"When I was a kid I believed everything I was told, everything I read and every dispatch sent out by my own overheated imagination. This made for more than a few sleepless nights, but it also filled the world I lived in with colors and textures I would not have traded for a lifetime of restful nights. I knew even then, you see, that there were people in the world-too many of them, actually-whose imaginative senses were either numb or completely deadened, and who lived in a mental state akin to colorblindness. I always felt sorry for them, never dreaming (at least then) that many of these unimaginative types either pitied me or held me in contempt, not just because I suffered from any number of irrational fears but because I was deeply and unreservedly credulous on almost every subject. "There's a boy," some of them must have thought (I know my mother did), "who will buy the Brooklyn Bridge not just once but over and over again all his life." There was some truth to that then, I suppose, and if I am to be honest, I suppose there's some truth to it now. My wife still delights in telling people that her husband cast his first presidential ballot, at the tender age of 21, for Richard Nixon. "Nixon said he had a plan to get us out of Vietnam," she says, usually with a gleeful gleam in her eye, "and Steve believed him!". That's right; Steve believed him. Nor is that all Steve has believed during the often -eccentric course of his forty-five years."

He writes scary stories because he is like a big kid and I like that! Sure he shows up now and then in his miniseries movies and he looks like a total whackjob...like who would be suprised this guy write horror so well, look at him! But he is really such a good writer and he can make fun of himself. Now I am not saying all his books are good because I have not read them all and I have also read some real crap (Bag of Bones was terrible!!!!). But there is a reason he is so terribly successful and there is a reason they are always making his books into movies or miniseries...even though the miniseries that follow the book almost exactly tend to not be very good and ooze cheese. You will never be able to be frightened as much by images in a movie as you can be by words on the page. Your imagination and interpretation of what's happening in your minds eye as you read along will win hands down every time! Case in point... Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining", was basically the same idea as the book and it says that it's based on the book in the opening credits. While the idea is the same, Kubrick changed things, added things, took out things and the movie was really good and really scary. Stephen King, bless his heart, made his own movie out of "The Shining" and it was...well...cheesy and not that great and much too long. Or did you see Dreamcatchers? The Mist? Those movies were not great...but the books, I read them both...were very scary.

Anyways I was first introduced to Stephen King as a small child. There was a miniseries on TV based on one of his books...IT.
My older brother and older cousins all watched it one Thanksgiving up in our playroom, while us younger kids were banned from the room. I remember my Mom saying it was too scary for me to watch...which if you know me at all, forbidding me from doing something or watching something is just going to make me all the more curious about it. The playroom at my parents house is upstairs and while the older kids watched the movie us younger kids kept sneaking up the stairs and peering through the cracked door to catch glimpses here and there of this "too scary movie". That movie was scary!!!!!! I don't think I even saw that much of it at the time but those images of that killer clown are burned forever in my memory! I remember my brother and cousinst talking about it the next day..."Oh of course it's scary it's a Stephen King"...whatever that meant to me at the time. This Stephen King must be scary, was the name of the clown Stephen King I remember wondering. I did end up seeing the whole movie sometime much later and it still scared the crap out of me. And I somewhere along the road figured out that Stephen King wrote books, scary books...but I didn't really enjoy reading until after High School...when I would be met with Stephen King yet again.

I was working at Sam's Club and I had been lucky enough to land the ideal cashier spot...the Tobacco Cage. Which is exactly how it sounds...it's like a big cage full of cigarettes and chewing tobacco. This was an ideal spot because it wasn't all that busy and you got to know the vendors really well and it was out of the way so no one really was keeping tabs on you. Anyways one day someone checked out at "the cage" and they decided against buying a book. Thus leaving the book with me as a go-back. Now what book could that be? It was Stephen King's "The Shining". I was so bored down there that I flipped the book over and read the back. I had not ever seen the Kubrick movie but knew it played often on AMC during the month of October. It seemed like something to pass the time so I started to read the book. Stephen King is really good at the hook. I mean even in the books that I have read that were not very good he is ALWAYS good at drawing you in at the start. This is something rather important in a book...otherwise why keep reading? Anyways I had read something like 80 pages by the time I went to my lunch break and I was hooked. I took the book home that night, do I admit that I didn't pay for it, whoops! Well I brought it back and didn't keep it, so it was more like borrowing than stealing...right? Whatever! That book is so damn scary you wouldn't believe me without reading it yourself. That book is what sparked in me a love of reading as an adult. That book, ohhhhh I can't even tell you is horrifying! I had never been drawn into reading the way I was when I read that book. Reading was always homework, always something to suffer through for a good grade's sake.

After reading "The Shining" I began to read and read and read. I love reading as an adult and it's thanks to good ole' Stephen. Anyone reading this blog who likes to be scared, who likes a good horror movie or story....you need to read "The Shining". There is an episode of Friends about this book. Where Rachel finds a copy of "The Shining" in Joey's freezer and he tells her that's where he puts the book when it gets too scary. It really is awesome and way better than the Kubrick movie.

Anyways I have read a number of his books and for some reason I like to keep most of the books I have read...but I feel somewhat embarassed to have the King books out in public in my house. Like someone would see Stephen King on my book shelf and completely write me off as a "real reader". Oh she just reads for the pure entertainment quality...she doesn't read things that make her think, or ponder or inspire. "Stephen King is only in it for the money...he wants to make money", they might think. "Here is Emily part of the sheep buying his books". This is stupid I realize...but I don't think anyone out there would doubt that this is a reality of judgement when it comes to what kinds of books you want people to know you read or have read. Stephen King isn't Faulkner or Bukowski or Capote or Steinbeck. But that is what I like about him...he never claimed to be. If being successful in life has anything to do with being really good at what you do...Stephen King is good at what he does. He is known to be a science fiction and horror writer. And his books will scare the bejeezus out of you. The man can tell a good ghost story.

So since it's Halloween time and I know I like a good scare; here are some good book by King to read if you can get part the book snob in yourself

The Shining

Salem's Lot

IT

Needful Things

Pet Sematary

The Stand

The Mist

Dreamcatcher


Happy Halloween!!!!!

14 years of excellence

Okay maybe not excellence...but at least mediocrity. One accident, a few fix it tickets, nothing major. So I have to renew my drivers licence. I have officially been driving for 14 years. Actually my license expired on my birthday but I kinda forgot and then remembered like a week later but then really didn't do anything about it. And I have kinda been driving anyway even though I guess technically I am not allowed to drive, whatever!!!! But I guess this week is the week I HAVE TO go renew it or Mitchell will never shut up about how irresponsible I am. I was kinda worried that since I am like a month late they would make me take the written test again...which I would like to say I'd pass...but really I mean some of those questions...unless you were 15 and trying to get a permit you would not know the answers. But I called and all I have to do is pay the fee, do an eye exam and take a new picture. I am kinda happy about a new picture because I kinda hate my old one. I have the Rosemary's Baby hairdo in it and no one ever seems to believe it's me when cashing checks and what not.

This was my haircut, that was even how I described what I wanted to the hair stylist...I liked it for a while but when I was over it...it took a while for my hair to get the clue!!! Have you ever grown out a pixie cut? Urghhh it's like mullet status for a while there. Also I am not sure it ever looked as good on me as it did on Rosemary...or Mia Farrow.
This strangely enough was the day I took the picture for my drivers license. I guess I was testing out just how "butch" I was gonna look in this driver's license photo I would have for the unforeseeable future. You see I look pretty good here. However for some reason I was possessed to wear lipstick for my DL photo...and that, that....was not a good idea. I look crazy. I never wear lipstick...it must have been suggested by my mother to make up for my short hair...which she of course hated. Not to mention my hair looks like unnaturally yellow in the picture, oh well.

So I have to update my info as well. I'm not all that convinced I should update my weight...if I even knew what it was to begin with...I don't weigh myself for obvious reasons, have not since before Olivia was born. My license right now says I weigh 130, ha I wish...honestly I probably weighed more than that when I renewed it last...but I can't be sure. But since my license before that said 115 and that was actually a true weight at the time...awww that's depressing!

I guess what I am have thinking about the most is the hair color option. I have not been blonde in a long time. I don't know if I will be anytime soon. I would like to think I will be again someday, it just seems like such a process because it is so dark now...and I don't want to cut off a bunch of damage that will likely happen if I bleach it. So do I change the current "blonde" hair to "brown". It seems so sad...like saying goodbye to my fun self...because I think blondes really do have more fun. And I have had like every hair color so I think I am a fair judge.

Here I am on the right having significantly more fun in my life than I seem to have these days. Notice the otter pop in my hand, everyone knows how fun otter pops are...actually it's probably the Walmart knockoff "flavor ice"...whatever! See my roommate Jenn is also blonde and she is having more fun too...there we were just 2 blondes having fun!

And this thought just occurred to me...if I leave it saying blonde and I am standing in front of the disgruntled DMV Clerk will they make me switch it to brown...since it is currently brown.

This is confusing. Does this mean if I want to keep it saying blonde I have to wear a blonde wig or something....huhhhhh.

So I guess I am doomed to a significantly less fun future as a brunette.

No offence "brunies".

And I am still not going to put down my actual weight...they can't take away my inaccurate weight!!!!!