It's the most wonderful blog of the year

Considering this is at least my sixth annual music blog... I don't think I need much introduction. I present to you my reviews of the 25 most popular rock songs of 2012 (according to the Billboard charts).

25) THE BLACK KEYS. "LITTLE BLACK SUBMARINES."
I don't know if I like the Black Keys infiltrating the world of rock music. I am not entirely comfortable with their presence on this list, and I stare at them warily, frowning, through narrowed eyes. That said, this is probably my favorite Black Keys song, or at least it's the Black Keys song I dislike the least. The vocals are honest and haunting, and when the instrumentals kick it up a notch midway through the song, it really does actually qualify as rock.

24) MUSE. "MADNESS."
This song is so bland, slow, boring, and devoid of substance that it barely exists, so it is fitting that it would be performed by the lifeless shells of people that used to be Muse. Back in the day, listening to Matthew Bellamy was somewhat like watching a stunning acrobatics show. Seriously, check out Origin of Symmetry. It's like the Cirque du Soleil of vocal cords. This song sounds like he conceived, wrote, and performed it without even getting out of bed, or even sitting up, or even waking up.
I understand that doing that Twilight song somehow killed Muse's creative career (when it comes to rock bands, I am a believer in 'the Twilight Curse') and in a devastating scene reminiscent of the ending of a Henry James novel, they realized they could never be as they once were but yet they still had to find a reason to keep living, and along those lines they should probably release a couple more albums as long as people would still buy them. And so they began doing lame covers of opera songs (I wish I were kidding about that), Chopin etudes, and, apparently with this new album, which I never plan on listening to, they make a halfhearted venture into dub step. But, I haven't given up on poor Muse, because they could actually be on to something with their new musical style. I really think that "Madness" could be a viable alternative to anesthesia.

23) CHEVELLE. "HATS OFF TO THE BULL."
Remember when more music was like Chevelle? There was no reason to really take much notice of Chevelle when they were just one of many quality rock bands topping the charts. I liked them, but I didn't love them, especially after they released that crappy "Shameful Metaphors" song in 2009 and I kinda wrote them off for a while. But now, I look to them as the potential saviors of rock music. You'll understand once you've read more of this list. This list is mostly made up of music that I don't believe to actually be rock, and the sleepy skeletons of bands that used to rock. Chevelle sounds just like they always did. And this year, that's what puts them in a class of their own. I feel that I've been thirsting for rock music, staggering through the desert that is this new alternative crap, and just as I am about to collapse, parched, onto the sand, Chevelle shows up, luminous, and offers me a drink of water. Water I'd have taken for granted a few years ago, but after my time in the desert, it sure is sweet.

22) GREEN DAY. "OH LOVE."
Let's go back in time a few months. Before Billie Joe's breakdown. Before the Twilight Curse killed Green Day. When this song suddenly burst onto the airwaves, promising a bountiful season of Green Day to come. It's not your typical Green Day song, but it's similar enough to their signature sound; it's not like they pulled a Muse or anything. It's a happy, likable song, and I look at it with a bittersweet fondness, forever to be remembered as the last single released before Green Day became dead to me.

21) OFFSPRING. "DAYS GO BY."
Poor Offspring. Poor Days Go By. This somewhat generic but well-meaning song had plagiarism threats hurled at it because some people decided it was ripping off the Foo Fighters' "Times Like These." Honestly, I don't see it. I mean, if you were going to accuse the Offspring of trying to copy the Foo Fighters, you probably should have done so in 2007, the year that saw the release of the Foo Fighters' "Echoes, Silence, Patience, and Grace" and Offspring's "Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace." I remember I wanted both these albums for Christmas, but could never remember which nouns went with which band, so they never made it onto my list.
All Foo controversy aside, this song is ok. I miss the Offspring of the 90's, but I really did appreciate the aforementioned "Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace." With infectious, energetic anthems like "Hammerhead," "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid," and "Half-Truism," that album was one that was meant to be blasted at top volume. And now, with "Days Go By," it's as if... as if the rebellious youth ready to take over the world in their 2007 album endured some hardships on his quest, some disillusionment, some Lifetime-movie-esque coming-to-terms-with-things, and now he has returned a failure, a sadder but wiser man, bent but not broken, and seemingly aged twenty years. Rather than telling us to hit 'em right between the eyes, he's sitting us down on a park bench, much like the bench the old man and the little boy are sitting on on the front of the album (who EVER thought that would be Offspring album cover art?) and sharing the life lessons that he learned the hard way. And it's still a pretty decent song. Thanks, Grandpa.

20) SOUNDGARDEN. "LIVE TO RISE."
Decent song. Typical Soundgarden fare, but I don't think it's got the staying power of some of their old classics. We're happy to listen to it this year, but will we remember it when the end of 2013 rolls around? I doubt it. Of course, I can be wrong about these things (see #15).

19) MUMFORD AND SONS. "I WILL WAIT."
Mumford and Sons have their place, but it's not on a rock station. This song sounds like something I'd expect to hear in the following scenario: I'm walking down the main street of some city whose downtown area is merely a single street, like Plainfield. It's a Saturday night and all the bars are packed, so I slip into the one that looks most promising as far as getting a seat, a quiet little pub. A couple guys are setting up guitars and sound equipment in the corner of the bar (I'm not thinking a bar with a stage here) and I'm pleasantly surprised there wasn't a cover. These must just be some locals glad to get the exposure. Then they play the song "I Will Wait," and I enjoy it while tapping my foot and sipping a beer.
That's where this song would make sense. But hearing it on a rock station? Wtf.

18) COLDPLAY. "PARADISE."
Initially I liked this song more than most Coldplay songs, even though the chorus is a rather annoying repetition of "Para, Para, Para Dise, Para, Para, Para Dise" and there's lots of that "OOOWOOOOOOoooooOOOO" stuff Chris Martin usually does that sounds like someone is torturing him by twisting his balls or something. I liked it because the lyrics are quite relatable, it's about a girl whose life isn't what she hoped it would be, so she can only escape in her dreams.
Then I lost all respect for the song after seeing the music video. The music video is a few intelligence-insulting minutes of people running around in stupid-looking elephant suits.
Elephants or no elephants, I'm once again not sure how this song is considered "rock." But then again, that goes for about half the songs on this list. Maybe I don't know what rock is anymore.

17) FOO FIGHTERS. "WALK."
This song was #5 last year, and I wrote the following review:
Foo Fighters, you are gods of rock and people are going to worship at the church of Grohl no matter WHAT you do, but would it kill you to put a little more effort into your music? Actually, it might kill you, because you've got to be getting kind of old, so if this is the most effort you can put forth, that's fine, it's still not a bad song, and it's SO much better than "Wheels" (which made me strike you from my list of favorite bands forever, even my long list of favorite bands, whereas before "Wheels" you were actually on the hallowed short list). But it sounds just like at least two of your other recent songs. And did you REALLY rhyme "Learnin' to walk again" with "Learnin' to talk again"? Oh well. I can't really criticize you. I am a mere mortal after all.

Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Reminds me of another kind of older band who are slowin' it down a bit imparting wisdom and life lessons in their songs. Kind of makes me wonder if the Foo Fighters are copying Offspring...

16) SHINEDOWN. "BULLY."
I'm happy to see this song on the list. Sure, there are Shinedown songs I like better, but this song gets played on my favorite station. It's a station that only comes in when I'm driving north or when I'm in Joliet or Kankakee, and it's a station that doesn't stomach any of the new alternative stuff (you will never hear Black Keys, Group Love, Foster the People, Fun, or Of Monsters and Men on this station). Their frequently played motto is, "We drink beer, ride motorcycles, and play rock and roll." That's the kind of song this is. It's the motorcycles and beer kind of rock, not the skinny jeans and bottled water rock. Not saying there isn't a place for both, but I wish this top 25 list weren't so lopsided.

15) BUSH. "THE SOUND OF WINTER."
I can't believe this song made the top 20 AGAIN. It was #18 last year. And it's such a mellow, bland, innocuous song I couldn't even write anything witty or interesting about it, so I'm not even going to bother copy-pasting my review. It's not a bad song, but... is this really going to be the anthem of the 2010's?

14) ALEX CLARE. "TOO CLOSE."
My boyfriend hates this song. When it comes on in the car, he undergoes a transformation much like David Hasselhoff's in the musical "Jekyll and Hyde," except with slightly less pyrotechnics. I think he has chosen this song as the one target onto which he projects all his hatred for dub step, and that's a whole lot of hatred for just one song to bear. I really think he should consider distributing his dub step hate across multiple songs (like, say, #24) so he's not setting himself up for a Too Close-induced aneurism.
I guess my boyfriend isn't completely alone in blaming Too Close for all that is wrong with music today and labelling Alex Clare as the dub step AntiChrist. I did find this review that seems to agree with him.
However, when I'm looking for songs to hate from this year, I find MUCH better targets than "Too Close." I think the vocal performance is good, the lyrics actually meaningful, and the dub step not that offensive. I'm not gonna run out and buy an Alex Clare album, but I really don't mind the song.
Don't tell my boyfriend.

13) FUN. "SOME NIGHTS."
What the heck is this. This sounds like it was written for a high school choir. It sounds like it was written for an ABC Family Movie of the Week about a boy and his dog. I can hear them playing the chorus "OOOH OHHH, OH OH OHHHH OH" as they show the dog romping through a field, the boy chasing after him in overalls with a jar ready to catch dragonflies or some other mischief. Whatever this song is, it's not rock.
I was really surprised recently to learn that the lead singer of Fun used to be the lead singer of The Format. This mainly surprised me because The Format didn't suck. I wonder what caused this shocking descent into suckery. Then again, Fun is experiencing success that The Format never could have dreamed of, so who am I to judge...

12) M83. "MIDNIGHT CITY."
The intro to this song is really annoying, whatever the heck instrument that is. But if you don't turn it off right after the intro, and the song actually starts, it's so boring and bland that you're kind of anesthetized and don't even realize music is playing anymore. It's kind of like when a mosquito bites you. You feel the prick at first, but if you don't swat it right away, you stop feeling it and you're totally unaware you're being bitten. So, I guess the best thing I can say about this song is that it probably won't give you West Nile.

11) CHEVELLE. "FACE TO THE FLOOR."
So, I've already discussed how Chevelle is the one glimmer of hope in this list, and that assessment is actually more due to "Face to the Floor" than "Hats off to the Bull." This song rocks more than any of the others listed. So, as a New Year's present to everyone, I'm going to link the music video.

10) THE LUMINEERS. "HO HEY."
What the HECK is this. WHAT. THE. HECK. This song makes me think of a youth group, we're talking like 7 or 8 years old, but idealized 7 or 8 year olds from a 1950's sitcom, having their Friendship Week bonfire and then the youth group leader pulls out a guitar and is like, "Hey kids! I'm going to treat you to a song I wrote!" "Oh boy, a song!" exclaim the fresh-faced youngsters. And for added interactive joy, the song includes lots of yelling, "Ho! Hey!" so the kids are squirming with delight as they get to join in the musicmaking. In fact, by the end, they may have even cutely learned some of the lyrics of the chorus (considering it's just, "I belong with you, you belong with me, my sweetheart," it's really not hard). They're having so much dang fun that the youth group leader has to inform them, between the last "ho" and the last "hey" that this is the last one. After all, it's almost 8 p.m.! Yikes, it's bedtime! Actually, the inter-hohey "last one" announcement is the only part of the song I like, because at least I know it'll be over soon.

9) IMAGINE DRAGONS. "IT'S TIME."
This song does not belong on rock stations, but it does belong in commercials for every uplifting coming-of-age movie ever made. I am actually pretty convinced that's what the song was written for. Imagine Dragons were sitting around browsing imdb, and one of them suddenly announced, "Hey, there's gonna be a movie version of The Perks of Being a Wallflower in 2012! We better get on that. Where's the song we wrote that got rejected for the Marley and Me commercials? That could work."

8) FUN FEATURING JANELLE MONAE. "WE ARE YOUNG."
More Fun. Well, you already know what I think of Fun. This was the first single I heard of theirs, then "Some Nights" was worse, and don't even get me STARTED on the crap they have on the radio now.
But I don't hate this song. It does get old, but- it's more interesting than their other songs. It tells a story. I actually stop mourning the death of rock music for a moment and instead I find myself picturing the bar the guy is in, he's maybe a little drunk, he's trying to pour his heart out to his ex, yearning to just somehow, just for this night, make everything ok again. At least that's how I interpret it. Part of it actually kind of tugs at my heartstrings. The lines "Now I know that I'm not all that you've got, I guess that I, I just thought maybe we could find new ways to fall apart" are actually somewhat moving in the little storyline I've pictured. But, then the chorus kicks in, and mentions setting the world on fire, which I think is one of the most overused cliches in song lyric history. And there are some annoying Na Na Nas and stuff.
Still. If you only listen to one Fun song this year, a) you're lucky and b) make it this one.

7) OF MONSTERS AND MEN. "LITTLE TALKS."
I hate this song. So. Much. I don't think I can write anything coherent about it, because my brain is trying to eat itself right now. You see, when this song comes on the radio, I instantly go into kill mode, but in that instance, my killing energy is directed toward the radio (I want to find a way to sue Of Monsters and Men for the teeth marks on my radio's tuner button). But right now, I'm just listening to it in my mind, so my killer instinct is directed toward myself, and my brain is doing something akin to a rabbit caught in a bear trap chewing its own leg off because having three metaphorical brain legs is better than having to listen to "Little Talks." See, I'm not even making any sense anymore, so I think I'd better take my remaining brain matter and move on to #6 beforewraeworiewtwetgh4riuhgtta4t80

6) GROUP LOVE. "TONGUE TIED."
Whew. That was close.
This song is grotesque. First of all, it's so dumb that I am embarrassed for humankind when I listen to it. Second of all, it actually has the words "beddy bye" in it. But mostly, it's grotesque because midway through the song, the already terrible vocals dissolve into lots of hideous moaning and wailing that can only mean one thing- the guy who was twisting Chris Martin's balls during #18 has moved on to a new victim and is now disemboweling the lead singer of Group Love.

5) THE BLACK KEYS. "GOLD ON THE CEILING."
This song is one of the biggest disappointments of the year. The instrumental intro kind of draws you in, you think this is going to be an interesting song, and then--all the energy is completely zapped when the lackluster vocalist starts warbling. It's kind of like getting a beautifully wrapped present, excitedly pulling off all the layers of shiny paper, and then realizing whoever gave it to you forgot to actually put anything in the box.

4) GOTYE FEATURING KIMBRA. "SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW."
Oh, what to say about this song. The first time I heard it, I remember thinking, "That's kind of interesting." Not interesting as in I wanted to hear the song again, but interesting as in, hmm, it starts off so quiet and then gets loud, and it's kind of cool that a girl (presumably the other side of the story Gotye is telling) comes in and sings one verse, and is that like a xylophone or something?
But I didn't really care to hear it again. Especially not 7000 times.
The frustrating thing about this song was that not only was it overplayed, but it fell into every defined genre. It was pop. It was "alternative rock." It was soft rock. It was top 40. They made a dance remix, so it was dance. So there was no escaping it. So many times I'd flip between the stations looking for something, anything, that was not Gotye, but would just find that every station was at a different point of "Somebody that I Used to Know."
I can kind of tell why Gotye's ex had to go to such great lengths to block him out now.

3) LINKIN PARK. "BURN IT DOWN."
Linkin Park. Another victim of The Twilight Curse.
After Twilight killed Linkin Park, the empty corpses of what used to be Linkin Park managed to zombie together an album called "A Thousand Suns." The devastation caused by this apocalyptically crappy album cannot be accurately measured, because in addition to the body count and the destruction of property you also have to figure in the emotional damage.
Linkin Park actually snapped out of it a little bit when they realized that the first single alone from "A Thousand Suns" had caused five hurricanes, made gas prices soar, and led to the extinction of 40 endangered species plus 6 species that had not been endangered prior to the album's release. Therefore they promised that the next album would be more true to the old Linkin Park sound.
That album, which includes "Burn It Down," doesn't really sound like the old Linkin Park. More like Linkin Park Lite. But, I'm willing to forgive them for not quite rediscovering their roots, because, after all, they were zombified by Twilight, and, more importantly, this song is roughly a thousand times better than "A Thousand Suns."

2) FOO FIGHTERS. "THESE DAYS."
Oh Foo Fighters. More life lessons from you wise old men. Yes, one of these days, I bet my heart will be broken, and I bet... HEY, WAIT A SECOND! Doesn't this sound an AWFUL lot like the theme of "Days Go By" by the Offspring?
Seriously, Foos, it kind of sickens me that you insist on copying the Offspring's every move and capitalizing on the Offspring lead singer's devastating but enlightening failed world conquest. I will let it slide, just because this is still better than "Wheels," but please, TRY to do something original next time.
Actually... I did kind of like some of the other songs on your latest album. The ones that never made it onto the radio were more interesting than "Walk" and "These Days." Even your other single released this year, "Bridge Burning," was better than these. So why do only the blandest songs become superhits?
Foo Fighters are actually going on indefinite hiatus. I assume they will use their time off to ponder the mystery above, to learn to walk and talk again, and to stalk the Offspring so they can continue to steal and remarket all of their life lessons.

1) THE BLACK KEYS. "LONELY BOY."
I don't think we can call this the top rock song of the year. In my mind, "These Days" will have to be considered the top rock song of the year. Whatever else I might say about that song, it's at least in the genre of rock.
What genre is "Lonely Boy?" Well, it's maybe one of the more upbeat songs you'd hear while you're browsing the merchandise in the store portion of a Crackerbarrel restaurant, post-biscuits and gravy. Or maybe it's a song you'd hear when you reached Fort Kearney in the old Oregon Trail computer game and you were stocking up on wagon parts and oxen feed. And I don't really know what I'd call that genre, but the Black Keys seem to have mastered it.
Yes, Black Keys, this really was your year. And the interesting thing is, you've actually been around for a long time. You were in the music business for several years before really making it big, lying dormant, waiting for the right time to strike. And as soon as rock music showed signs of weakness, you went for the throat.
Oh, but rock will fight back. True, most of our heroes are now grandfatherly figures or Twilight zombies, but new heroes will rise, and we'll go headbanging our way to the top of the charts again...

...won't we?

12 Happy 2012 Memories

It's the time of year when we're bombarded by top ten and bottom ten lists, by news stories forcing us to relive the most memorable moments of the past 12 months. In this post, I'm going to completely avoid negativity. I'm simply going to share 12 of the things that made me happy this year. Read on to discover three of my own personal victories, three music videos that will make you happy, three beers that will make you happy, and the "one" book, one movie, and one song that will always make me think of 2012.
THREE PERSONAL VICTORIES
VICTORY #1: GOING TO CHINA

How is this a victory, you might ask? Well, I'm absolutely terrified of flying, and I had never traveled alone before in my life. I tend to get lost a lot. I guess the closest I'd come to flying anywhere by myself was the time that I got really lost driving and ended up getting stuck doing several laps around O'Hare airport (which, by the way, was nowhere near my intended destination) because I couldn't figure out how I'd gotten into the airport parking lot and also couldn't figure out how to get out.
And I can't say that things exactly went smoothly. My flight was delayed an hour in taking off and an hour in landing. So, already arriving in Beijing two hours late, I was horrified to find out that none of the baggage carousels said anything about a flight from Seattle. After about 20 minutes passed, I tried to ask an airline employee about my flight, but she understood little English and only spoke enough to convey that this was where I wait for the baggage. In an attempt to keep my sanity, I stared at an advertisement for Yanjing beer that showed Chinese astronauts, in their spacesuits, enjoying a bottle of Yanjing. Maybe this was my type of country, after all.
Finally, FINALLY, my baggage came through (even though the sign above the carousel indicated that it was coming from Eastern Europe), and then I was free to wander out of the baggage claim area into the vast confusion that is the Beijing airport. At first my eyes just darted around wildly, but luckily after just a few minutes I saw a girl in a turquoise sweater sprinting toward me. And that's when I knew I'd made it, I could finally hug the sister I hadn't seen in nine months, and after 30 hours of travel and terror I could finally just relax. I think a loud sob escaped me as I threw my arms around her and let my blood pressure start to return to its normal state.
There were a lot more adventures to be had in China, of course. Temples, palaces, hutongs, an awesome morning hiking at the Great Wall, and even a trip to the Beijing Hooters.

But that exhausted, relieved, joyous moment when I first hugged my sister was probably the best of all.
VICTORY #2: DIAGNOSIS- BENIGN
Around Thanksgiving this year, I found out that I had a 2-inch tumor in my left breast.
Imagine the following situation. You're lying on your back, shirtless, on a table, as a doctor and two nurses perform a biopsy. You're numbed but you're awake, and you're trying so hard to scrutinize their faces. Staring at them so intensely you feel you could burn a hole through their skin. Are they frowning? WHY ARE THEY FROWNING? Even though they won't tell you anything until the results come back, of course, they must know something, they must be able to tell what it looks like...
Then, afterwards, as they're applying pressure to the incision and cleaning the area up, all of a sudden, one of the nurses freezes. Stares down at your breast and asks, "What is THAT?"
The other nurse's eyes widen. "I don't know. What IS that?"
At this moment, your heart pretty much stops. You were already so tuned into their facial expressions that now you have lost any sense of reassurance you might have had previously and your mind is spiraling out of control. Somehow, your medical condition has baffled even the professionals. You have fleeting images of being the first one to start a The Stand-esque superplague. Maybe you shouldn't have watched that miniseries twice. In fact, you really shouldn't have, because it kind of sucks.
"It's.... glitter." The tension goes out of the nurses' voices, and you realize you don't have the superplague, yet. She removes the offending sequin.
This was kind of a personal victory for my boyfriend against my sequined shirt. I think the shirt is cute and fun. He groans loudly every time I wear it to his apartment, because he knows he'll be picking mini-sequins off his couch for a week.
A week later, my results came back, showing the tumor was benign.
A month later, the shirt is still untouched on my floor. I don't know if I'll ever be able to wear it again.
VICTORY #3: EVERCLEAR PLAYS YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A WHORE
A couple months ago, I went with Mollie, Keith, Mouse, and Chris to "rock out like it's 1999" at the Eve 6 and Everclear concert. The reason I went was to hear Everclear play one of my favorite songs, "You Make Me Feel Like a Whore."
This song never got nearly enough radio play. When Mollie and Rachel used to DJ their college radio station on Monday nights, I would set aside time every Monday night to contact the station and request "You Make Me Feel Like a Whore." Sometimes not even framing my request in a full sentence and just saying the title of the song, which, if they didn't know me, they might have found confusing.
I didn't know if Everclear would deliver, or if they would let me down. I'm getting really used to being let down by bands I've loved for a long time, and I wouldn't even say I ever loved Everclear, just that song.
For example (BEGIN UNRELATED STORY), 2012 was the year that my Green Day fanship finally ended.
I'd stuck by Green Day through a LOT. So why did I stop being a Green Day fan? Was it because they cancelled the concert I'd already bought tickets to? Was it that footage of Billie Joe puking onstage at the end of "Jesus of Suburbia?"
No. It was this video.

I can hear you now. "Do you really hate Twilight that much? What's wrong with Twilight?" Whether or not I hate Twilight is not the point. The point is, this is not Green Day. Like, imagine a punk band that has been around since the early 90's, has built up an impressive punk music loving fan base, and has always had a kind of independent, rebellious, I-don't-give-a-damn attitude that even works now that they're in their late 30's.
Then, suppose that band announces they're inviting the latest teen pop sensation (think Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift) to be their new permanent fourth member, and she's going to write some of their songs and choreograph their music videos.
It's like if the man you'd loved for several years suddenly revealed that he was really just a monkey in a man suit. I don't know them anymore.
(END UNRELATED STORY)
So, I was prepared to be betrayed by Everclear as well, and it sure looked like they were gonna betray me. Probably ten different times, the lead singer would bellow, "WE GOT SOME SPARKLE AND FADE FANS OUT THERE? LET'S PLAY A SONG FROM SPARKLE AND FADE!" And my heart would soar... and they'd play something... else. And I'd despair, because by the end of the concert I was thinking they'd played every single song off Sparkle and Fade EXCEPT "You Make Me Feel Like a Whore." What was this? The Sparkle and Fade tour?
But then... on the last song before the obligatory encore... when my legs were killing me and my eardrums were starting to hurt... the beautiful moment happened. And I threw up my rawk fist. And I sang at the top of my lungs. And I felt like a whore. Oh yes. I did.

THREE MUSIC VIDEOS THAT WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY
(After all, you need to recover from the one I posted above)
VIDEO #1: PLEASE DO NOT WATCH PAST THE FIRST VERSE
I want to say first of all that this is a terrible song. It annoys me to no end. When I hear it on the radio I usually emit an agonized howl as my fist slams into the tuning button to kill it as quickly as possible.
But the first time I saw the music video, it made me happy. Because I think I'm cooler than the guy from Owl City. And you probably are too. I mean, just watch the first verse where he's singing. Have you ever seen a guy look so uncomfortable in his own skin? Have you ever heard someone sound so awkward when saying, with almost painful enunciation, the words, "I'm in if you're down to get down tonight?"
Now, he might be having a good time, but he sure don't look like it. And for someone who gets told enough that she looks tired or bored or sad or angry, I shouldn't make fun of the lack of fun it looks like he's having, but, I'm going to.

 

VIDEO #2: PLEASE DO NOT HATE ME FOR POSTING A TRAIN VIDEO
Obviously I'm not a Train fan either. But they play this video at the gym all the time, and it always makes me chuckle and forget that I'm on the treadmill.

VIDEO #3: I HAVE NO DISCLAIMERS OR APOLOGIES FOR THIS ONE
This video is pure joy. It's finally helped me overcome the crippling yeti-phobia I've had ever since I watched Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer as a very young child and it gave me nightmares.

THREE BEERS THAT WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY
In case you didn't like the music videos above and need a drink, I'm going to share three beers I discovered for the first time this year that I think are worth a try.
1) GREEN LINE (Goose Island)
This is the most widely available beer of the three I'm going to mention--you can find it anywhere that has a sizeable beer tap--and it's a beer I'd recommend to pretty much anyone. That's because it simultaneously tastes like a light beer and an IPA, with even a hint of fruitiness. It's like a light IPA. And it's right up there with Blue Moon as far as my favorite non-obscure beers go.
2) ZOMBIE DUST (Three Floyds)
Like its delicious cousin Alpha King, this beer has just the right amount of hops, but it lacks Alpha King's citrusy notes, making the hops seem more powerful. And the picture on the outside of the bottle is pretty sweet, too.
3) GOLDEN MONKEY (Victory)
As you'd guess from the name, this beer is a beautiful golden color. It's light, smooth, and drinkable (maybe a little bit too drinkable) with a unique, mildly spicy flavor. The reason I say maybe a bit too drinkable is that this beer is deceptively strong... so proceed with caution.
BOOK OF THE YEAR: SONG OF ICE AND FIRE SERIES
When I went to China, I didn't really want to pack books, so I borrowed a friend's Kindle. He was kind enough to load some books he thought I'd like onto it, including the entire Song of Ice and Fire series. So, sitting at O'Hare awaiting my flight from Chicago to Seattle, I started reading Game of Thrones.
I didn't stop reading until six hours later when the plane landed in Seattle. And that's when I realized that the Kindle battery was almost dead... I was only 1/4 of the way through Game of Thrones... and I still had the 12-hour flight from Seattle to Beijing ahead of me.
Now, if you've read this post from the beginning, a) I'm amazed and b) you know I have problems traveling/navigating by myself. So, as I stumbled into the Seattle airport, trying to follow people who looked Chinese, I was being consumed by two fears: that I would not make my connecting flight, and that I would not find out what happened to the Stark family. I had to make a decision. Continue following Chinese-esque people in hopes of finding someone who would point me in the right direction, or stop at bookstore and load up on overpriced Game of Thrones books.
You can guess what I did. This actually led to even more panic, because it took a long time to find those books. I had to ask the clerk, who barely spoke English, and they were under scifi (which was separate from fantasy... what the heck?). I bought the first two books, then took off sprinting while weeping hysterically through the airport, because I thought I was running out of time. I didn't realize my flight would be delayed an hour. But you already knew that, if you've been reading from the beginning of this post (and again, if you have, I'm really amazed).
You may have seen the TV series, but I never had, and I thoroughly enjoyed the books. Pretty soon I had my mom and my sister reading them too so that we could bond over them. Occasionally we'll send each other texts that simply say "Hodor." So now, if you ever get one of those texts by accident, I know you'll understand.
MOVIE OF THE YEAR: CABIN IN THE WOODS
I won't tell you too much about Cabin in the Woods, because much of the joy of this movie comes from not knowing what to expect. But just know that this movie is like every single novel my sister and I ever tried to write together (which, to be fair, is only about two). So, now that I've seen Cabin in the Woods, I can now say that my life's work is done (and way better than I probably would have done it, too).
SONG OF THE YEAR: NO APOLOGIES
Calling this song a song is underselling it. This wondrous anthem stirs every emotion I have.
I couldn't find a good music video for it. There's a "real" music video but the acting in it is super crappy, and then there's this other video that's like plugging Sugar Red Drive merchandise, and I decided the crappy acting one was worse, so I'm posting the other one, because it's not like they're total sellouts, it's not like they're Green Day or anything. Besides, the point is not to watch the video but to hear the beautiful beautiful song, and I don't want to hear any of your "what is this misogynist Nickelbacky crap" comments because this song is the best thing to happen to anyone ever and taught me to love life again. So, on this note...

...happy New Year!

Four Bad Decisions Made During Blizzards Past

Some people, for reasons I cannot comprehend, are disappointed that the much-hyped Winter Storm Draco left us with nothing more than a dusting of snow. I was definitely not among those people. I hate snow. I loathe cold and I loathe precipitation, so the combination of the two stirs a hatred within me so potent that I can feel my eyes turning to liquid fire as soon as they are afflicted by the offending weather forecast. I find no beauty in snow. Not when it first falls, and not when it turns into a hideous brown slush when the thaw begins. And I am not a very confident driver in the best of conditions, so when it comes to driving in the snow, I'm often weeping and gripping the steering wheel so tightly that I'm surprised it has not permanently fused with my hand.
But aside from all of these reasons, I hate snow because I've noticed a pattern wherein I make particularly bad judgment calls during snowstorms. I'm going to tell you about the first four that come to mind. Actually, three of these happened during the same snowstorm...
I. FEBRUARY 2011 - WENT RUNNING
I'm sure everyone knows the snowstorm I'm talking about. Definitely the biggest one in the last several years. This was the snowstorm when virtually everyone I knew was off work, and when my brother went out with all his army medic gear to help people whose cars went into ditches. (In just a few hours, the number of motorists he'd helped was somewhere in the teens.)
I decided that morning would be a lovely time for a jog.
Now, mind you, there were a few obstacles. Like the fact that the sidewalks weren't cleared whatsoever. But the major roads were somewhat plowed, and it's not like there were any cars on them. And when else does a jogger get the privilege of running right down the middle of Wolf Road in the middle of the day?
I did see the occasional person out shoveling his/her driveway, and I generally was not met with kindness and acceptance. "You've got to be kidding me!" one man exclaimed. "DID YOU TAKE YOUR PILLS THIS MORNING?" another called after me. And yet another gaped at me and then pulled out a video camera and started taping me, steadily following me with the camera until I was out of sight.
While jogging was definitely more constructive than other things I ended up doing that day (read on), I ultimately felt it was a bad decision because a) during the portions of the run when I was going through knee-deep snow, my heart rate surged so high that I was actually concerned, and b) I was already uneasy at the idea of the random stranger sending the video footage to some news station, and it seemed like just the kind of stupid video they'd show to lighten things up during the last 2 minutes of the broadcast ("Suburban girl forgot to take pills!"). The jeers of my neighbors were already making me feel bizarre, like an outcast, the soon-to-be-infamous Crazy Running Girl. That sudden desperation is probably what led me to Bad Decision II.
II. FEBRUARY 2011 - JOINED FREE DATING WEBSITE
Being confined to the apartment and afraid of my Crazy Running Girl status crippling my prospects for a social life, I decided to join a free dating website. I was not 100% sure about this. I tried to make it explicitly clear that I was just looking to go out to places around the Chicago area, meet new people, and have fun. I said I was looking for "friendship" and set a geographic range of within an hour of Mokena, an age range, and a few other restrictions (no guys with kids, etc.). I made it ok for guys who met these requirements and were also looking for friendship to contact me.
So, I'm guessing the reasons that some dating websites are free is because they completely disregard your filters.
During the total of one hour I idly monitored my emails, I got many incoherent, often all-caps and unrecognizably misspelled, and occasionally really offensive declarations of love, most of them from men way out of my age range and in different states (in one case, a different country). Sometimes the same people who'd declared their love for me just minutes ago would then call me names for not responding. Well, I suppose they weren't all rude. There was a very polite and eloquent gentleman from Virginia, who looked like a frightened, skinny nerd in his pictures (yeah, he actually looked frightened in the pictures, maybe he should have smiled), who told me that he believed that there is someone for everyone and not to let the distance dissuade me because he would be willing to relocate for the right girl.
The one person I talked back to was the one person who actually did live within an hour of me, and was only one year too old for the date range I'd set. However, he was dead set on coming to my house.
Me: "I would be fine with meeting somewhere, but I'd rather go out, try something new."
Him: "Nah. I'll just get a six pack of something and come over to your place."
Me: "Well, the thing is, my apartment kind of sucks. Wouldn't you rather do something that's a little more... in public?"
Him: "No"
Me: "Sorry, I'm not comfortable meeting in private. Plus, I live with my big brother. My big, military, firearm-loving brother." (Okay, so I didn't actually say that stuff about my brother. And while it is true that he's big, in the military, and loves firearems, I am guessing he'd just laugh at my plight if I were in an awkward situation like this. Actually, what's more likely is he'd talk to Dating Website Guy and try to gauge DWG's love of firearms. If he found that DWG's love matched his own, he'd probably shove me toward him and tell me not to screw this up.)
I got off the computer for the rest of the day, and a few weeks later I remembered that I'd joined a dating website and it sucked and I should probably delete my account. But I couldn't remember my username or password. So, my profile is still out there, but guess what? I haven't gotten a single message from anyone since that first day. THEY DIDN'T REALLY LOVE ME! THEY WERE JUST TOO LAZY TO NAVIGATE PAST THE TOP OF THE "RECENTLY JOINED" LIST! I'm sure that once my fifteen minutes of fame were over, they moved right on to the next girl at the top of the Recently Joined list, didn't they? I mean, not that I cared. I bet she was prettier than me. Wasn't she?
III. FEBRUARY 2011 - AGREED TO HOST A MARY KAY PARTY
Shortly after my social networking fail, I got a call from my friend Maryam, who sells Mary Kay products. I guess part of the whole Mary Kay thing is you're supposed to try to get your friends to have parties too, and then try to get the people at those parties to have parties, and so on and so forth until you've built an impressive and moisturized army.
I am the last person who should host a Mary Kay party. I am not girly. I don't do girly stuff. I typically used maybe 3 makeup items, one I'd bought from Maryam and the others from the dollar bin at the end of the aisle at Jewel Osco. To top it off, I lived in a barely furnished apartment with my military, firearm-loving brother. The one saving grace was that my brother's taste in decor is actually surprisingly feminine; he'd put up a floral scroll, a few Impressionist prints, you know, Monet, Van Gogh, the usual. So I decided my apartment MIGHT provide a girly enough atmosphere for Maryam to do her thing, provided the guests didn't mind sitting on the floor.
So, I agreed. I blame the snow.
The party that I threw probably set Maryam's makeup-selling career back about five years. If it weren't for me, she might own that pink Mary Kay convertible or whatever the heck they give their top salespeople.
I couldn't really bring myself, my non-glamorous, makeup imbecile self, to create a facebook event that was JUST a Mary Kay party. So, I called it a "Mary Kay and Interpretive Dance Party." The event picture was me and a college roommate performing dance moves (actually, she was trying to shove me in the closet and I was resisting, but it looks like a dance) and I invited about 12 or 15 girls I knew (half of which had already been to a Mary Kay party for Maryam) to come jazzercise and enjoy a makeup presentation.
My facebook event caused mass confusion and fear. I heard that the girls I invited asked amongst themselves, "What is this? Is this really a thing?" I guess I can't say I blame them.
The reason I forgot to mention why I REALLY shouldn't have thrown this party is, when I throw parties, people don't come.
Two people showed up.
While this party was as damaging to my self esteem as it was to Maryam's career, she managed to move past it, and I threw two more (non-Mary Kay) parties over the course of the next year that were also attended by about two people each before finally banning myself from party-throwing. If only I could blame those other two parties on snow...
IV. DECEMBER 2010 - DENNYS
A group of my friends get together at the Denny's in Mokena every Christmas night. I'd said I would go many times, but I'm usually at my parents' in Momence on Christmas, and just have never been able to motivate myself to make the drive back because Christmas tires me out, not to mention I've usually gone way over my calorie limit for the entire week before noon on Christmas.
I always wanted to go, though. So, when I actually had the energy to make the drive on Christmas 2010, I decided I was GOING to Denny's... massive snowfall or no massive snowfall.
Somewhere in the cornfield wilderness between Momence and Mokena, I got a flat tire and had to pull into someone's driveway. It was a lone house out in the country, with no other houses within sight. And- I was stuck in the driveway.
Let alone not being able to change my own tire, I couldn't shovel myself out of the driveway. I got the shovel out of my trunk and tried my best, but nothing... I was stuck. And I had the feeling that this is how every horror movie begins. I wasn't the main character but the stupid girl who gets killed right at the beginning before they introduce the main plot. I was certain the next person I was going to see was going to be a serial killer dressed as Santa, or a clown, or Clown Santa, and wielding a chain saw.
At some point, my friends texted me and asked if I were coming to Denny's. "I can't," I responded. "My car broke down and I'm stuck in the snow."
Perhaps forty minutes later, my friends followed up by texting back, "Do you need help?" But by then my parents were on their way to rescue me, and the person who lived in the house had come out to investigate, showing no serial killing inclinations whatsoever.
I tend to tell this story to anyone who claims to want a white Christmas. I remind them that white Christmases can be deadly. However, no one seems to really care about my plight that Christmas night. Okay, I guess I didn't suffer tremendously, but it was cold, and I didnt' get to go to Denny's, and I had to get new tires, and there was that interval of time when I really thought that I might end up as clown food.
Just recently I was in a meeting at work with my boss and the majority of the Customer design team when the whole white Christmas campaign was brought up, and so I began telling my tale of woe. They were completely unsympathetic.
Coworker 1: Wow, you're still not over this, are you? You even look like you're still cold.
Coworker 2: No, she always looks like that.
Coworker 1: Is the point of this story going to be that you actually died that night, and the whole time you've been working here you've been a ghost?
Me (to my boss): Well, maybe I at least deserve a little more slack then, on account of being dead.
Coworker 3: Actually, I would think that should mean she doesn't need a lunch break.
And so, rather than sympathizing with my hatred of snow, they went on blithely wishing for it to be terrible, terrible weather on what is supposed to be the happiest day of the year. And I sat. And I listened. But I did not, no, I did not understand. And if you are among those hoping for a white Christmas this year, I hope that I did not offend you. I also hope that perhaps I've opened your eyes to the hidden dangers of snow. And also prepared you for any stupid decisions I will probably make the next time it hits us.

bargaining

I'm finding that when faced with a problem you can do nothing about, the problems you CAN do something about seem minute, simple, and not even really problems at all. In fact, IF this bigger problem could just somehow be removed, you'd then be able to fix everything else in your life as if with a magic wand. "If somehow this could turn out alright, it will be the end of self esteem issues, body image concerns, being directionally challenged, losing my spare keys, general bitchiness, shin splints, nutritional deficiencies, not being good with children, losing my backup set of spare keys, hating Christmas music, lashing out at coworkers who criticize my face, and Blue Moon purchases. I will acquire a perma-smile and devote myself to the betterment of mankind like some kind of non-religious nun."
Sad that you can't actually bargain like that...

Consisting of a rant about Seven-Eleven and an epiphany about life

THREE STRIKES FOR THE SEVEN ELEVEN
It seems there's always one gas station borne, calorie-packed food that I crave constantly, but at varying levels. For a while, it was trail mix. Then moved on to cheese popcorn. Then, shamefully, it was those awful (wonderful) (awful) "danishes," you know, the Archer Farms pastries where they have a single pastry in a package but still try to list it as two servings in the nutritional information, possibly because they don't have enough room to print the calories contained in the pastry without halving it? Well, I've moved on from all of those cravings, and when the era of a certain food passes, I don't want said food anymore. Mentioning it doesn't make me salivate or compulsively reach for my car keys to drive to the nearest gas station. However, it's always replaced by something new and currently it is: breakfast burritos. I am ashamed to even type this. I constantly register at least some level of breakfast burrito craving. During most hours of the day, I can keep it at a manageable level so that I don't start shaking and foaming at the mouth, but if I've skipped a meal or if it's the morning after I've had too much to drink, the burrito craving's strength overwhelms my common sense and clouds my thoughts. And so I rush to the nearest gas station, wherein I shall find my salvation, and promise myself as I open the wrapper containing what shall become my next roll of abdominal fat, with fingers trembling with anticipation, "This is your last burrito EVER, Mandie. God. Buy some vegetables next time."
And it's never the last one. Except now it may be, because the nearest purveyor of burritos, Seven-Eleven, has now received three strikes.
Strike One.
Mandie is hungry and decides she should buy some healthy food. She ventures to her local Seven-Eleven, grabs a little single-serving veggie-and-dip tray, and then, what the hell, balances it out by grabbing a six pack of Blue Moon.
MALE CLERK: Ah, it looks like you are having a party.
MANDIE, being very socially awkward and not good with comebacks, looks down at the makings of quite possibly the world's lamest party, to which the invitees consist of herself and her cat. (No beer for the cat, though he did enjoy my dip leavings.) She can't think of anything to say, so she forces a sound between a giggle and a hiccup.
MC: Are you sure this is all you want?
MANDIE (decisively, swiping credit card): Yes.
MC: Nothing for me?
MANDIE (now in way over her head as far as comeback inadequacy goes): Uhhhh... (another hicgiggle)
MC: Because all I want is a beautiful smile from the beautiful lady.
MANDIE: Heh, heh (now actually kind of grateful she impulsively grabbed the beer, because she's gonna need it)
Strike Two.
Mandie is having a weak moment and decides to purchase a morning burrito.
ANOTHER MALE CLERK: Is there anything else that her royal highness wants?
MANDIE (very decisively): No, thank you.
AMC: Have a wonderful day, royal princess.
Upon getting into her car, Mandie realizes she woke up not long ago and has not looked in the mirror yet today. She flips down her visor mirror and sees that a long dark smear of the remainders of yesterday's eye makeup is completely darkening the side of her nose (I do own eye makeup remover but it's a childproof bottle i can't open, ok?), her other eye looks like someone punched it, and her hair is sticking out at comical angles. This makes the "royalty" comments that already made her excessively uncomfortable and on the brink of hicgiggling seem like cruel sarcasm.
Strike Three.
It's a Saturday morning, and let's just say that the events of Friday night have propelled Mandie's burrito craving to a level that is beyond her control. She reluctantly visits the Seven-Eleven and gets a burrito.
FEMALE CLERK (giving Mandie an odd, condescending smile): Hungry?
MANDIE, already brutally ashamed of her 340-calorie purchase, not to mention the alcohol calories consumed the previous night that are currently having a pants-size-increasing fiesta in her fat cells and demand Mexican-style refreshments, makes a noncommittal sound. She's not even really that hungry, it's a craving thing, which surely the size-two Seven-Eleven employee before her would not understand.
FC (louder, and this time seeming amused by Mandie's purchase): You HUNGRY?
Luckily, MANDIE is saved from further comment by the guy in line behind her, who says, "Not very hungry by the looks of that. That's not a very big burrito." MANDIE, having paid, escapes.
I'm not going to that Seven-Eleven anymore, and you know, I may even be liberated from burritos. It's one thing to be creepily hit on, it's another thing to have your smudgy morning face subjected to harsh mockery, but to have a skinny woman ask you if you're hungry as you go on your shameful, solitary junk food run is more than any human being should have to endure. And I'm done with it. Goodbye, conveniently located but brutally insensitive Seven-Eleven. Three strikes, you're out. May you and your fattening snacks rot in- oh, wait, there's a chance I may still want to use the mailbox in your parking lot. I will not finish that sentence. We shall live as civil neighbors. Please don't egg Cujo.
UNRELATED MUSINGS
Thanksgiving is coming, and I usually post a blog of amusing things my family says at Thanksgiving, because inevitably there will be some good quotes. I was thinking, since this blog is hurting for material, that I might do a "best of Gossage Thanksgivings" post this weekend. And so I began scanning the late-November entries over the years in my previous blog (which I had for 6 or 7 years, so that's a lot of Thanksgivings). And I came to two conclusions:
a) Funny stuff your family says doesn't have a really long shelf life. It was hilarious then, but it wouldn't be now. I'm not going to re-post any of it. It's had its day, it's time for new material.
b) Reading my old blog can hurt. REALLY hurt. So many close relationships have ended, either with a bang or a whimper, or just a slow fade. Reading these blogs in which I talked about them, quoted them, received comments from them, really was communicating with them (because back in the mid-aughts, people actually read my blog)--can be tough. It makes it so hard to believe our relationships aren't like that anymore. It seems like I should be able to just reach through the screen and pull their 2007 (year chosen at random) selves out, and we should be able to laugh together.
But that's not how it is. I have a hard time dealing with change, but I need to accept the fact that my life has changed very much. I'm a different person, and the people I love have evolved right along with me. And I am EXTREMELY grateful for the exact state that my life is in right now- drunken fiestas going on in my fat cells, crippling social awkwardness, occasional afternoons spent partying with the cat, everything--I still have so much to be thankful for right now, and I feel like this is where Mandie 2012 needs to be.
So, like the family quotes that were hilarious at the time but don't really translate to now, I am ok with leaving these memories in my blog's archives. It doesn't mean I don't cherish the memories, and it doesn't mean I'm giving up on ever restoring some of the good aspects of my life in the past. But it means that I'm not going to pine for the past anymore. I'll look forward to a new Thanksgiving and whatever special 2012 brand of hilarity it might include, and I'll focus on now without comparing it to then.

Why I Need a New Hobby

I haven't read this book in years, but I think I remember that in "Frankenstein," by Mary Shelley, the monster begs the doctor to create for him a companion. Once this request is granted, the two monsters will go somewhere far away, never to bother him again. And so the doctor agrees, but as he looks upon the newly created female monster, he can't bear the thought that he's bringing yet another monstrosity into the world. Therefore he tears the she-creature apart, and the repercussions really kind of suck for him later.
If that's not actually part of the novel, then I may have made it up, and should probably submit to a psychological evaluation. But, either way, that's the story of my nanowrimo attempt this year.
In 2010 I'd begun writing a story, and stopped after roughly 2600 words. Then, life got crazy. Not that I necessarily would have finished this story even if life hadn't gotten crazy, but life did get crazy in 2010, I swear it really did. And to this day, I haven't written any more than 2600 words, but I have the entire story plotted out in my head. And every so often, it finds a way to poke some of the soft gray matter inside my skull, as if to say, "Create me, Mandie, complete me. I have so many plot twists yet to be twisted."
"I don't know if me writing fiction is a good idea," I protest. "My creativity level has flatlined, and as for my vocabulary, I think I'm forgetting about ten words per day."
"But what ELSE are you going to do with your time?" the unwritten story whines.
So, I thought this year I'd try nanowrimo. I've thrice attempted nanowrimo unsuccessfully, but I could just write those off as practice rounds. Virginia Woolf believes one just needs "a room of one's own" to write a novel, and I've got a whole dang apartment. Plus, my November kicked off with six hours of maintenance on Cujo (poor guy needed new brakes) during which I had nothing to do but write.
And so, after handing Cujo's key to the mechanic, I sat down in the waiting room, pulled out my laptop, opened my partial story for reference (I couldn't write in the same document, because those 2600 words can't count toward my total), and began creating a monster.
Seriously. I know my fiction writing was never good and has gotten worse over the years, but this was painful. I found no enjoyment in the process. What I was doing was a crime against God, man, and the English language. I was mangling basic sentence components, forcing them to do terrible things that they were never made for. Once I'd typed 866 words, I was forced to sit back, take a few deep breaths, and study the monster I'd created. I thought of the implications if this story joined forces with my previous excerpt and they were unleashed on the world, and I suddenly felt like I'd birthed a race of demons that would make the literary devastation caused by Twilight seem like a mere hiccup.
Thus I banished my new document to my laptop's recycle bin as my old document looked on in horror, realizing it was destined to be forever alone. And I'm sure, much like Frankenstein's monster, it will continue to nag the creator who gave it life but not fulfillment. In this case, the creator attempted to drown her sorrows by taking mindless quizzes in Oprah magazine (the strength of my inner voice is on the low side of medium, in case anyone was curious about that). But I know all solutions are temporary. It will always bug me, at least a little, that I used to be able to write fiction and enjoy writing fiction, and I can't anymore.
I don't know what it is. I feel like it's some kind of slowing of my brain, and perhaps it just comes with age. Or perhaps it's because I didn't keep my brain in shape. Kind of like I used to be able to run marathon distances on any given Saturday, and I now feel very accomplished if I can run over 8 miles. Part of it may be age, and part of it that I didn't keep my body in that kind of shape.
But still, even when you cease to be able to do something, part of you perpetually thinks you can. I'm in the gym, and I pick up a Runner's World magazine. Always a dumb mistake. I read an article about training for ultramarathons. I COULD SO RUN FIFTY MILES! THAT SOUNDS AWESOME! Or, I'm reading the Game of Thrones series. I COULD SO CREATE A COMPLEX FANTASY WORLD WITH MULTIPLE RELIGIOUS IDEOLOGIES AND POLITICAL STRUCTURES AND 30 PAGES WORTH OF FAMILY TREES AT THE END OF EACH BOOK AND WRITE AN EPIC SERIES THAT FOLLOWS DOZENS OF PRIMARY CHARACTERS BUT AT THE SAME TIME MAKES EACH OF THEIR STORIES ENGAGING, PERSONAL, AND PAINSTAKINGLY DETAILED! THAT WOULD BE A BLAST! Stupid inner voice. Why do you think I can do things I can't do? We need to work on our communication. Maybe Oprah could help me with that.
All this to say, I feel I'm still without talents or hobbies. Perhaps someday I'll find something that I'm capable of and that I truly enjoy, and my inner voice and I will finally be on the same page, and I'll become the Mandie I was always meant to be. In the meantime, though, I'll probably keep on beating the dead horses of writing and running. "Maybe if I wrote this scene from the other character's POV..." "Maybe if I eat a different flavor of Clif bar..."
Hmm, come to think of it, I haven't tried the mint chocolate chip ones.
Today may be the day that changes everything...

silver linings

I know. It's been a while.
Writing blogs can be scary, and it was tempting to go the safer, easier route and let this flaming gopher go silently into the night, like my Twitter account from years past (though I still get emails about the stupid thing--I don't think I've posted since 2009, but just this week I discovered that I have a new follower and that my password has been changed because it thinks my security has been compromised). But the blogging world will always call to me, even when I'm finding it nearly impossible to write about myself.
It's been a rough few months. This sounds like a cliché, but it's so true ... I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. I've been afraid to type out words, because I'm afraid that either I won't like the person who reveals herself on the screen, or ... I'll see that she is nothing.
I tried to write an entry in a personal journal. I diligently forced out a few paragraphs, but I felt like I was in an awkward conversation with myself that wasn't really going anywhere, and I wished there were a third me who could suddenly show up and save me from it, or at least who I could pretend to get an emergency text or phone call from.
Putting even a little bit of yourself out there is scary. My last blog was mostly ignored and also used as a forum for personal attack. But I want to write. Not because I think I'm good at writing, but because writing added a dimension to my life that I'm lacking now. So, I'm telling myself I'm going to do nanowrimo (I never even make the quintuple digits, and I'm not expecting to this year, but it'll be something) and I'm also going to try to bring back those joyous days in which I would write inane blogs about my daily life and not care what anyone thought.
I'm going to challenge myself to try to see the positive aspects in negative events. I'm not going to say that ALL negative events can be seen as positive, but when you try, it's surprising what an optimistic spin you can put on your life. Some examples:
EXAMPLE ONE: Yesterday, a sick morbid curiosity led me to do a web search on how many calories are in beer. It turns out that my favorite beer, Blue Moon, has more calories than pretty much any beer, almost twice as many calories as Miller Lite.
THE POSITIVE: Rather than seeing this as bad news, I'm seeing it as wonderful news, because if Blue Moon has that many calories, imagine how many calories I could save if I stopped drinking it? So, starting today, or maybe starting after I finish the cans of Blue Moon in Aaron's fridge, I will begin the Miller Lite revolution. I imagine that after a month or two I will have a Keira Knightley-esque physique. So, you see, all things happen for a reason, because if I had never tasted Blue Moon in the first place, then I would never feel like I was being diet-friendly by drinking Miller Lite.
EXAMPLE TWO: My entire life I have been plagued by having a face that is such a unique form of grotesque that people feel the need to label it as tired, angry, miserable, or some other emotion that it's not currently conveying.
THE POSITIVE: This has taught me to analyze conversations and social etiquette to a degree that I think makes me pretty much a certified sociologist and certainly less socially inept than the average Applied Systems employee or gas station clerk. Let's look at two conversations that happened within the past week.
CONVERSATION ONE
(Mandie is filling her water bottle at the sink, around 3 on a Monday afternoon)
RANDOM COWORKER I DON'T KNOW: Wow, having a rough Monday, huh?
MANDIE (hesitant to say anything because she feels an insult against her face coming on, tries to just make some kind of sound that could mean everything and nothing and hopes the conversation will end there): Uhhrnnnghuh.
RCIDK: Hey, I said, having a rough Monday, huh?
MANDIE: Why? Do I look like it?
RCIDK: Every time I see you walking around here, you always look like this. (Completely slackens arms in an ape-like fashion, slackens face as well, droops mouth, juts out jaw like a Neanderthal, and adopts a slumping posture, overall looking like Frankenstein's monster if he didn't have any bones and had just taken a triple dose of Vicodin)
MANDIE: Wow. I feel so beautiful right now.
CONVERSATION ONE- ANALYSIS
This conversation was awkward, and it was Mandie who was at fault. While it is pretty clear from context that RCIDK did not actually care about the quality of Mandie's Monday and didn't give a crap whether or not she had in fact had a rough day (in fact, he indicated she looks like this all the time, rendering his initial comment even more meaningless), Mandie should have taken the comment as such in order to avoid awkwardness. Rather than ask the question that we all KNOW isn't going to have a good answer, she should have just responded, "Actually, no, I'm having a pretty good day. How about you?" Then, she may have even made a new friend, been able to give RCIDK a name, and through warmth and caring rather than self-defensiveness, torn down all his misconceptions about people with weird faces and quietly taught him a lesson in tolerance.
CONVERSATION TWO
(Mandie is buying food at a gas station (I know, I told my self no more gas station food, I am cutting down))
GAS STATION CLERK: Are you okay?
MANDIE (politely): Yes, I am. (See, she's learning. This happened after conversation one.)
GSC: Oh, 'cause you don't LOOK okay.
MANDIE: This is just how I look in the morning, I guess.
CONVERSATION TWO- ANALYSIS
This conversation was also awkward, but in this case, the blame rests entirely upon GSC. You see, if you are truly concerned about the current emotional state of a stranger you're only going to interact with for about 45 seconds, you don't follow up your concerned comment by insulting her appearance. You would instead say, "Alright. Hope you have a good day." Then not only are you giving her the impression that you find her face acceptable after being given the initial reassurance required in order to process it, but you're also brightening her day. And providing good customer service. And ensuring she would return to your gas station, even though by ensuring that you're actually setting her back a lot because she's trying to not eat gas station food anymore, but hey, at least she's drinking Miller Lite now, so maybe she can afford to splurge a little.
The time now draws near for me to go to the cat place, so I must bring this entry to a close. I'm not even going to read it before i post. I'm glad I wrote even when I didn't have anything interesting to say, because it got me into writing again. Even if I'm just writing about stuff I always write/talk about, like beer and my face. I promise that there is more to me than beer and a face. I promise that in the coming posts, I will come up with a much more colorful array of subject matter. Or at least I'll find new, colorful, possibly metaphorical ways to describe beer and my face.