Monday, November 05, 2012

My new mantra is "As long as ______, everything is okay." These are not obvious things like, as long as I have my husband or as long as there are cats, or cheese.

As long as I have this blog to write in, everything is okay. Because it's my safe space, always.

As long as you remember the songs your mother sang to you as a child, everything is okay. Bonus if you sing them to your own children.

As long as there are new Adam the Woo adventures uploaded, everything is okay. Because he embodies living simply and enjoying life and everything everyone should do if they can!

As long as there are kangaroos, everything is okay. Because seriously, kangaroos. Think about them. They are NATURE'S BABY BUGGIES. They are the coolest thing in the world. It is impossible to be sad while realizing this about kangaroos. Don't take kangaroos for granted; there's a lot of cool stuff in this world!
I think, possibly, the world ended when that "Call Me Maybe" song came out, and nobody noticed.

Why does this innocuous little song bother me so much? It's pop music. It's supposed to be innocuous. Well... the lyrics. "Here's my number, so call me... maybe." Like wow, not since "it's Friday" have I heard such deep and meaningful lyrics. It's the MAYBE that bothers me so much. It doesn't even make sense. "Call me if you feel like it." "Call me if you're hungry and don't want to eat a burger alone." "Call me if you're not too hungover and actually remember who I am." "Call my Lawyer." These make sense. Call me maybe just sounds like you want to be referred to as Maybe. "Hi, I'm Mabel Marie Jones. Call me Maybe*."

*Maybe Jones is actually a cool name. However, I still contend this was the day the music died.

ALSO: was watching Duran Duran video on youtube, because I miss the 80s EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE, and that stupid Carly Rae Whatever's face was staring at me the whole time. Someone left a comment like, "my walkman finlly died the day that call me maybe song came out. Coincidence?" Nope, I'm pretty sure your walkman committed suicide. RIP. I mean, this world today is making me want to become one of those pretentious people who still only listens to vinyl. I liked records. They were real, and big, and there was a record store in LA when I was growing up called Licorice Pizza, which is the coolest name for a store ever. Even if the only records I ever listened to were the Smurfs and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, I'm still glad I got to experience the end of an era. (All my kiddie music was on vinyl; my first "real" music purchase was Vacation by the Go-Gos, on cassette. Aww yeah!!) I'm glad I'm the age I am, because I like the time I grew up in and wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Some people might laugh at the 80s, but there was real style then. Style that was so iconic, it was substance. The music also sounded like real music, not auto-tuned crap that came out of a box somewhere. Look at Madonna, Cyndi lauper, Boy george, Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, Devo, that Flock of Seagulls guy with the weird hair. That stuff will last forever. Very few things from today will be remembered, because time passes too quickly for things to become icons. There's so much information out there, nothing lasts long enough to leave a real impression. Nothing gets to matter anymore. (I guess in the case of Call me Mabel, I mean Maybe, this is a good thing.)

I was watching an episode of American Horror Story (best show ever pretty much), and it was a flashback to the 60s and this guy was alone with a little portable radio, and it was playing one of those 60s doo-wop type songs and the guy was just ROCKING OUT to it like it was the only thing in the world, and I was like holy frick, I miss the days when all you needed to be happy was a radio and a good song. People were just happier then. There's no way they couldn't have been. Then his wife was killed by aliens or something, but that's beside the point. The point is, it takes too damn much to be happy now.

If you listen to older music, and listen to today's music, you will get horribly depressed for what's missing and what's gone (namely, music.) Like... how the hell did we get from there (music played by real instruments and real voices) to here (the musical equivalent of Made in China keychains from the Dollar Store). So, I try to not listen to today's music. Listen to "Invincible" by Pat Benatar. Problem solved, guaranteed.

Thursday, November 01, 2012

culinary nostalgia activate

It seems my nostalgia kick is officially no longer a kick but a way of life. Makes sense, I guess. After all, what are we but a collection of our memories, experiences and all the people and things we've loved?

When I was a kid, and my mom still baked, she made a lot of Irish soda bread. It's one of those yummy memories that kind of got stuck in a time capsule,* because I hadn't eaten it since I was a kid. So I made some and OMG - MOUTHFUL OF PURE NOSTALGIA. And my hubby likes it, so I'm bringing it into the present too!

*not literally, cause that would be gross.