Her voice. Her accent. Good LORD.
How can you not love a song that makes such a simple and wonderful promise as “You’ll be happy”? (FYI: She does kind of shout a couple variations of the F-word, but you’ll be ok, I think.)
Fiona Apple, where you been, girl? Also: Tidal, her debut album, came out ALMOST 16 YEARS AGO. Also also: I bet I still know every word to every single song on that album.
What are you listening to, folks?
I figured you all could use a break from cop-out posts of pictures and links to other things. So I’m giving you my big face and dumb voice! (As the title of this post suggests.)
I explain the whole reason why I’m subjecting you to these things in the actual video, so you can watch it to find out. But here are three things I learned from watching it myself…
1. When I am uncomfortable with a word (for whatever reason) I MUST say it in a weird way. For example, I don’t *really* say “blog” as “blaaaaahg.” I mean, I do, but it’s on purpose. Because I just do.
2. I am possibly a bad daughter?
3. My mouth moves funny when I talk.
Ok, so here’s the video. Isn’t the freeze frame fantastic?
Here’s the deal if you want to make your own…
The instructions are to say these words:
Aunt, Route, Wash, Oil, Theater, Iron, Salmon, Caramel, Fire, Water, Sure, Data, Ruin, Crayon, Toilet, New Orleans, Pecan, Both, Again, Probably, Spitting image, Alabama, Lawyer, Coupon, Mayonnaise, Syrup, Pajamas, Caught
And answer these questions:
What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
What do you call gym shoes?
What do you say to address a group of people?
What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?
What do you call your grandparents?
What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
What is the thing you use to change the TV channel?
Whenever I walk into a room, I would like someone to start playing this…
Or this…
ORRRRR a mash-up of the two.
Thanks.
I can’t stop laughing at this picture. It was taken today at a bridal shower for my tiny, adorable, red-headed friend Kira*. Our friend Deanna set up a photo booth of sorts. This is me and my pal Lauren trying to show how excited we are for Kira’s impending nuptials**. I think we did a really, really good job.
*Yes, Stephanie, I’m sorry, a do have another tiny, adorable, red-headed friend who is getting married. I hope you’re not too mad at me.
**JR will be serving as ring bearer in the wedding. HALP.
So it turns out that having shingles suuuuucks. I will say that I was fortunate in that my agony only really lasted about four days (many people deal with it for weeks) but GOOD GRAVY. It was some of the worst and most constant pain I’ve ever experience. Seriously, it felt like I had been in a car accident.
The whole thing was made even more terrible by the fact that when I got home from my appointment, my brother (who had been watching JR, God love him) informed me that he, too, had shingles once and started feeling better immediately after taking the medication.
A couple days later I texted him and called him a lying liar full of lies because I felt horrible.
But I forgave him because he texted back an apology with a frowny face.
Anyway! Things are looking up, healthwise, and I feel grateful that we caught it early — and that my shingles stay confined to parts of my body that remain clothed. I heard lots of stories from friends who had them on their torsos, arms, AND FACES AND EYES. I dodged a bullet, you could say.
I’ll back soon with actual updates on what’s going on with us. It’s just, well, since I was sick with THE SHINGLES, I didn’t really do anything but groan a lot and leap into my bed to pass out the moment JR went down for his naps. Not exactly a page-turner.
Until next time, kiddos!
I don’t get drunk often, but when I do, I like to think it’s not unlike this. Not so much the cooking, but the general attitude (the cussing, too, I’m afraid).
(Yes, I realize that most of you have probably seen all of these, but I don’t care. They bring me so much joy, I cannot articulate it.)
JR and I have been spending a lot of time at our local library for three reasons…
1. It’s two blocks from our house.
2. They host a most excellent toddler storytime.
3. Their movie selection makes me gasp “THEY HAVE THIS?!?!?!” at fairly regular intervals.
Recent perusing has revealed such “Valerie’s Childhood Highlights” as A Child’s Christmas in Wales (a film that, perhaps, only myself and my siblings have seen), Pollyanna, and…
For those of you not familiar with this film, here’s the synopsis, courtesy of wikipedia (includes SPOILERS!!!!!!!)
The movie is set at St. Francis Academy, a fictional all-girls Catholic boarding school in Pennslyvania, operated by an order of nuns. Russell plays the Mother Superior, who spends the movie at odds with Mary Clancy (Hayley Mills), a rebellious teenager, and her misery-loves-company friend Rachel Devery (June Harding). The episodic storyline follows the young women through their sophomore, junior and senior high-school years. After spending much of the film resenting the authority of the Mother Superior, Mary receives the “call” senior year and, after graduation, remains at the school as a novitiate of the order.
I had a…thing…with this movie when I was a tween/pre-teen/the most awkward version of myself. It had me convinced that not only did I want to *be* Hayley Mills, but that I also wanted to live in the 1960s, attend a Catholic boarding school, and possibly become a nun. All I had to do was somehow convert to Catholicism…and go back in time, I guess?
I don’t claim to have a grasp of the psychological conditions that created my obsession, but, lo! they were there for a good, long while. I’m better now. If “better” could be described as “ushering my child off to a early naptime so I could start watching the movie as soon as possible.”
(Side note: This movie has a character named Valerie. I couldn’t stand her — she was such a little snot. She made me hate my name for a good, long while. See? I had a PROBLEM.)
I started Jillian Micheals: 30 Day Shred this week. Because I hate myself, I guess?
No, really, it’s high time that I get myself back into shape. I was lucky enough to lose the majority of my baby weight (oh how I HATE that term for some reason) pretty quickly — save the 10 extra pounds that I always carry around when I’m on the pill. But if I were to go off the pill, it’s highly likely that I’d put that baby weight right back on (in the form of a baby), so you know.
Anyway, despite my blessed lack of post-baby weight problems, things have just been…soft for quite some time. So when I happened upon Ms. Jillian in Target last week, I decided to use the last 10 bucks on my gift card on something other than a T-shirt that will fall apart next month or a package of diapers. (My life! It is GLAMOROUS!)
The shredding (whatever the hell that means) started on Tuesday morning. Yes, MORNING. I got up at 6:30 to get shredded. For those of you not familiar with Ms. Jillian’s technique, it’s basically three circuits: three minutes of strength, two minutes of cardio, and one minute of abs. And you do those sets over and over again for about 20 minutes on either Level 1, Level 2, or Level 3. Easy peasy.
Ish.
I was proud of myself for getting through it without stopping once.My prime motivator when doing anything strenuous is to chant, “22 hours of labor, 22 hours of labor.” That typically makes any physical task seem pretty attainable.
However, that’s not to suggest that there wasn’t a lot of yelling. Here are some of the gems that I gasped and sputtered ferociously roared and Jillian during our first meeting:
No, YOU do two more JILLIAN*.
I hate you.
This is why no one wants to be on your team, JILLIAN. This, THIS RIGHT HERE, is why people like Bob more.
WHAT? No.
Yes, I KNOW those abs don’t come for free.
STILL HATE YOU.
Jillian, I’m sorry. It was the pain talking. I really do appreciate your enthusiasm for my efforts to get “shredded”. Even though I still don’t know what that means. And even though it’s two days later and I still can’t raise my arms over my head.
*I say “JILLIAN” just like Phil said “LILLIAN” on Rugrats. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, well, I just don’t know what to do with you.
Jersey Shore
Don’t judge me. By the end of the day my brain is finished, and that show is the perfect thing to (sort of) occupy my attention.
Iron-on hem tape
I don’t sew, but I love fabric. Iron-on hem tape allows me to make things without bringing a pesky needle and thread into the situation. Granted, everything I make is either a square or a rectangle, but that’s just fine with me.
Percy Jackson & The Olympians
These books remind me of Harry Potter, but without all the depressing back story and a million things details to remember. Plus, I got about a gagillion iTunes gift cards for Christmas, and I’ve been able to download all of the books from the series on to my iPad.
Tweets of Old
These guys tweet sentences from old newspapers, noting the state and year in which they were printed. HILARITY ALL THE TIME! A recent favorite: “Declaring that he was going to the Mexican War, Wayne Dutters, 3 years old, was discovered boarding the southbound train. NC1914″
Do tell: what are you loving these days?
This song has been on the radio a lot lately. Not sure why. Maybe the fact that it’s almost FOURTEEN YEARS OLD qualifies it for Q94′s Flashback Friday (WUT.)
Whenever it comes on, I instantly remember watching this live performance at the 1997 MTV Video Music Awards. I still gets me choked up. I dunno, I guess I’m just sucker for a big production. And Sting. And Gospel choirs. It could also be that I instantly revert to emotional, 16-year-old Valerie when I watch it.
(It could also be that any reference to “I’ll Fly Away” destroys me.)
