a disapointing lunch

You know those gorgeous days on the brink of summer where you simply do not want to be at work? No matter how hard you try you just cannot get motivated to do anything productive? Yeeeaaahhhh… it’s definitely one of those days.

Plus I’m bummed- we were supposed to go eat at Logan’s in Laura’s section and they were too busy when we got there. A hostess had JUST sat Laura’s last open table when we got there, and there was no hope of getting sat in her section any time soon, so we had to go elsewhere and beg for our lunch. Well not really- we just went to Maniac’s had had some über-good chicken. But I was SO looking forward to Logan’s… and the warm, buttery rolls.

Sometimes you just get into this mindset of what you’re going to order at a certain restaurant and for whatever reason, plans change, you go some place else, and no matter what you order, it’s never as good as what you had in mind from the originally planned eating establishment.

This happened to Heather and I once back in the day, and it is a tragic story that ended happily which we Still laugh about. She and I were dating 2 guys named Ben & Ken (yes, I know how funny their rhyming names are), and we had a day off from school and the 4 of us were supposed to meet at Ben’s house and go to lunch at Red Lobster. I know it’s for the seafood lover in you, but I was rather fond of their cheesy rolls and their chicken tenders- not to mention this Amazing 7 layer chocolate cake-mmmm…. Where was I? Lunch.

Ok. So we get to Ben’s and Surprise- the guys have decided to change our plans and cook for us instead! Yes, I realize it was a sweet gesture, especially for a bunch of 16-year-olds, but Heather and I exchanged dismal glances at each other because we were really looking forward to Red Lobster! We tried to feign our disappointment- with me succeeding far better than her- as we nibbled on the most tasteless lemon pepper chicken and potatoes I have ever eaten. Heather and I spent the afternoon with the guys, and then on the way home stopped off at Ruby Tuesday’s and had some “real food” to fill our unsatisfied stomachs! To this day the guys still do not know this Behind the Music story, and it’s one of Heather’s and my favorite stories to re-tell.

how the stork brought the divadomain to my doorstep

And now, the story you’ve all been dying to hear. Just how did the Divadomain come to be in existence? None of you know this, so this should be fun.

Well, it was a dark and stormy night… no wait- strike that. It was a sunny May afternoon, and I was employed at the good ole’ B&J. It was a typical afternoon. I was bored as usual, and dragging out my work so that I would have something to keep me occupied for a full 8 hours. Now if you’ll think back and remember, I was talking to a frat-tastic guy we’ll call CG. (The very same CG who pops his collars. But I digress.) Now things were brand new for me and CG so I did what any normal, internet-savvy girl would do; I Googled him.

One of the results that popped up was his name in a blog entry by a kid I went to high school- Seth Worley (that’s Dennis Worley’s son for all you BBC’ers). So I clicked on the link and read some of Seth’s blog. I was fascinated. It was an online forum- a diary- a personal piece of the web devoted to you and your thoughts. I read some of his posts, noticed some of the comments that people left, and then my eyes were drawn to the button that said, “Get your own blog.”

What transpired next was a whirlwind of mouse clicking and furious typing as the Diva Domain began to take shape. It was pink, it was easy to format, and the best part of all, I was getting paid at work to do this! Ok, my conscious tugs at me a little when I think of how much time I wasted surfing the internet and blogging on the clock at the B&J, but that moment quickly passes as I am now getting to celebrate a year of my life being recorded on the World Wide Web. What a cool way to be able to go back in time and remember the Day of John Mayer, moving into the Penthouse, and Olympic play-by-plays, not to mention a rundown of almost every weekend! The world of blogging also made the South Africa mission trip special because we were able to share with those at home brief glimpses of what we were doing in Capetown, and all of that too, is recorded for all the world to see and stumble upon and see what God is doing.

I’d like to thank you the readers, both commenters and non-commenters alike, for making this possible and finding some of what I say worthwhile your time. While I realize it is somewhat self-aggrandizing, it would be no fun to write if no one else but me were reading it (Aw, Tear!….. I’m getting verklempt… tawlk amongst yourselves…)

So yes, for all intensive purposes, the blog was created thanks (indirectly) to a guy, and while the relationship was short lived, the Diva Domain lives on.

Exsqueeze me?

We had a moment in the Penthouse last night, and I thought I'd share. We're gearing up for our Florida trip this weekend, and last night Emily was talking to Rhonda. She told Rhonda that she got directions from Ann Wade, but that's not what Rhonda heard. I was in another room, and I heard what Rhonda heard, and that is that Emily got Erections.
"What did you say," Rhonda asked? Emily repeated herself.
"OHHH- that's NOT what I thought you said!" Me, still in another room came busting in and said,
"WHAT did you say?" Because I seriously heard "erections" both times she said it! So the wires were crossed, and then uncrossed, but by then we had taken it and run with it.
*I need to get erections myself to my aunt's house in Birmingham
*I'll get erections tomorrow online at work
*We need erections before we head out of town
...and my favorite...
*Guys never stop to ask for Erections

Principality of Celestial Space

Holy Crap- why has this movie not gotten more hype than it has?? I saw this with Ari last night- and she has got to be the biggest Orlando Bloom fan ever, and I dare say this film did not disapoint for even the casual admirer like myself. It was sort of a "Robin Hood Prince of Thieves" meets "Gladiator" meets "Troy," but in a good way. The film had incredible fight scenes- especially moments with that cool effect where they slow things down and then speed them up very quickly to catch up to "real time." Orlando Bloom made for some good eye candy, but it was done very tastefully with brooding, pensive looks from his scruffy face rather than Brad Pitt's superfluous bare chested scenes in "Troy" (not that I would ever, EVER complain about seeing Brad Pitt's chest... it's just that it was such obvious overkill in that movie to portray him as a Hellenistic Beefcake.) The movie spoke deeply about religious tolerence, the dilema of doing a little evil to do even more good, and telling the truth and living a virtuous life, even if it leads to ones own death. A great line of the film happened when the army was riding into battle. "If you go to battle, you are going into certain death," Orlando Bloom's character told another. "All death is certain" that other man said as he proceeded to ride on. (Oooh- that's deep!) Point is, this movie has not gotten enough credit in the box office, but Bradley and Bryant give it 2 Thumbs Up.

Fun conversations from this past weekend, OR… reasons why Amanda is still single

So yes, these weekend recap blogs tende to be longer since we have 2-3 days worth of activities to cover in a single posting, so I’ll cut to the chase (thank you Tadd for clearing up that idiom on your blog).

Saturday night after our girls' night out at the Bluebird Café we headed to Tootsie’s because our favorite cowboy/singer Jared Ashley was performing that night. We of course make our way to the very front of the crowd right in front of the stage and, not coincidentally, Mr. Ashley, and are having a good ole’ time singing and dancing to the live music. Unfortunatelky, we were not the only ones having fun in Tootsie’s that night. An older gentleman who was pushing 40 and slightly intoxicated, was acting very obnoxious. I think he was *trying* to dance with me at one point- I turned around and felt him bumping into me in a semi-regular pattern, but I turned back around and ignored him and he proceeded to leave me alone. Problem solved right? Oh, you just wish. Next he moved on to Rhonda tapping her on the shoulder and leering at her while attempting to make conversation over the loud music. Luckily I saw what was happening and I swooped in and put my arm around her to bring her back into the Girls Circle. Crisis averted once again. I believe this unfortunate, inebriated soul accidentally bumped into us several more times throughout the evening when I finally took matters into my own hands. Mr. Drunk Dancer was swaying to the music next to me at one point and he actually reached over and poked my side. “How are you doing tonight?” he slurred. “Well I would be better if you wouldn’t touch me,” I said to him. I realize this may have been slightly bitchy on my part, but enough is enough. I come down there to listen to great live music and have fun with my friends, not to baby-sit intoxicated men.

One would find this amusing enough for a weekend story, but what is it with me attracting men who are darn close to being over the hill, and *only* men that are approaching being over the hill? But right after Sunday school yesterday this guy came up to me and started talking a conversation. I have met him once before as we walked to the parking lot one afternoon after church. While this man is talking to me I am standing there thinking, this guy is too old to be in this class- he would probably fit into one of the older Singles classes better. I barely know the kid, but one minute he’s telling me about his new job, and then out of nowhere he hits me with, “Would you like to get coffee sometime?” What the heck? I’ve had one conversation with you, and you think that warrants getting to know me better outside of church? Besides that, he’s kind of a creepy guy, and I was looking around for a way out of the conversation and didn’t see anyone around to rescue me- and this is before I get randomly asked out. Well what’s a girl to do? “Would you like to get coffee sometime?” he asks. “Actually, no I wouldn’t,” I say. I find that the direct and honest approach is often best. Very quickly my mind went through all the options. Say yes, and actually go have coffee with him- um, no. Say yes, but avoid him every time he tries to set a date- this is what I have done in the past and it only leads to more trouble and awkwardness, so no. Or just say no. So that’s what I did. The guy muttered something about not knowing if I was seeing anyone or not, to which I just smiled and nodded- this could mean “yes I am,” or it could mean that I’m just actively participating in the conversation, but soon after that he turned around and walked out of the room, leaving me to stand there and say to myself, “did that really just happen??”

So sue me. I’m direct with creepy guys. This is why I’m still (happily) single. Happy Monday, and Happy Birthday week of the blog. Don’t forget to vote.

Vote for Your Favorite Blog

It's about that time kids. The Diva Domain is about to hit the one year mark. We here at the Diva Domain headquarters couldn't be more excited, and we are so thankful for you, the readers, who make blogging fun and worthwhile. Where else I ask you, would you be inundated with pink, find out the latest gossip and inside jokes, and generally be entertained by posts and comments from others? Take a few minutes- go on, I know you'e not Really working- and select a few favorite posts and leave a comment with the titles and dates of them. That means that those lurkers but rare posters of comments are being asked to hit that little pink link at the end of this that says "Comments" and actually write a sentence or two of commentary and(GASP) admit to others that you are reading this garbage daily!

A few previous posts to check out in particular would be "Bobbing for Urine" on Feb 22, "Could He BE any more Lame" on Aug 22 and "Soapy Quesadillas" on Sep 29- they are personal favorites of mine.

The Diva Domain. Often imitated. Never Duplicated.

Just when you thought it was safe to sing in your car

I have just seen the greatest show on television! Last night while flipping channels I paused on VH1 where I saw various clips of people singing in their cars. The clips kept coming and I realized that not only did the drivers not know they were being filmed, but there was an entire show devoted to this! I was hooked. There was clip after clip of these poor people singing and dancing in their seats while tooling around town, with a hidden camera installed somewhere in the dash of their car. This is a brilliant concept called Motormouth2, which can only mean there was a Motormouth1- how have I not heard about this until now??

The idea is you set up your friends who you know to be obnoxiously bad singers and vh1 goes from town to town filming these candid camera set-ups and then air them on national tv! It’s brilliant I tell you.

"Just when you thought it was safe to sing in your car... we return to take you on a tour of forty cities to surprise, shock and embarrass America's worst singers and most outrageous drivers!"

I felt it my civic duty to pass on the knowledge of this great programming so you too can tune in on VH1 tonight at 10pm central.

Diva convention ‘05

Well, it’s taken me most of the day to recoup, but I finally think I’m back mentally after having one of the best weekends in a long while. Ari and I took off last Thursday night for Houston (or Ew-ston, as those in the high-brow society have been known to pronounce it). We presented Conley with her very own pink sparkly Diva sign, so now we all have one, and the DIVA convention 05 was off to a smashing start. Ari and I got to meet Conley’s friends from Rice and hang out with John and Danielle as well (they are both friends from Kentucky, and happen to be Conley’s roommates). We had Mexican twice, although I could have done without the pickled carrots that I was brave enough to try at the first place- though that Was better than the unfortunate scallop debacle from last year’s Houston trip.

Danielle and Conley introduced us to the joy that is known as IKEA. This was a little overwhelming for Ari and myself, so we signed up to get the catalogues. It took us almost 3 hours to get through the store! I found out that there’s a store in Atlanta though, so all of us landlocked southerners can get our IKEA fix there. Ari bought curtains, and I bought some fun striped placemats among a few other things. Really I did the most damage in the Galleria Sephora where I must have spent a good half hour, and quite a bit of my last paycheck. No matter. I had a whopping 10 dollar gift card saved up from heather’s wedding goody basket, and I put it all on my MasterCard where I will paying off my treats with interest for many months to come all the while looking naturally fresh and made-up, of course.

We didn’t make it to see Roger Clemens pitch on Saturday night, but we did manage to make it to a club called JR’s. Let’s just say that in that place, if you were not male, you were not going to get hit on. I got excited to see all of these guys in pink shirts but they unfortunately were only interested in other guys in pink shirts. (Sad but true.) Ari and I did bond rather quickly with a friend of the Rice crowd named Grant who picked up instantaneously on our little “I Love it. I Love it but I Hate it but I Love it” spiel. And he said, “I heart that you say I heart.” He also quoted an entire scene from Steel Magnolias to us, much to my delight.

All in all, besides our day of shopping, the weekend was very low-key and was spent laughing in good company. We even brought back the Bed Party, where I was brought to tears from all of our impersonations of each other:
“My name’s Conleeeeey. I like Collen Fiiiirrrrth, and I like to burp all the time.” “Well my name’s Bradleeeeeyyyyy. I like pink and I wanna be buried in a Sephoraaaaaa.” “Well my name’s Arrrrriiiiiii. I’m a wiiiiine snob and I like to make fun of people.”

Wow. What. A burger.

The Sun shines bright on my old Tennessee Home

Yes, the sun is shining gloriously here in middle Tennessee, and my mind is about as far from work as one can get. Ari and I are waiting in great anticipation to board the plane that will reunite the DIVAS tonight, and we can hardly stand it. Look out for loud sopranos, impromptu singing, and plenty of new inside jokes. Don’t worry, I’ll share- because inside jokes are only funny if you’re in-the-know.

And speaking of new inside jokes, we proudly proclaim this day, May 12th, and the 12th of every month, to be Mary Steenburgen Day! (We, being Ari, Angela, Joel, and Barry) (all co-workers of mine) This all started today at lunch when the 5 of us braved the Cool Springs heat (ironic, yes?) to get a bite to eat from one of my favorite Fresh Mex places- and really, which one Isn’t my favorite? I love them all… and by the way, who’s excited for some REAL Mexican food this weekend? But I digress. So Joel thought it would be funny for a person to tell the people up at the counter at Baja Fresh that your name is Mary Steenburgen, so that when they called out your name to claim your food, you would hear Mary Steenburgen over the loudspeaker. Unfortunately, he didn’t come up with this gem of an idea until after he had already given them his real name. So when he went back inside for a refill, he actually went so far as to ask one of the girl workers to please say 'Mary Steenburgen' over the loudspeaker. And yes, Joel is my boss for those of you are not aware. An odd man, with an odd sense of humor to be sure. But long story short (too late!) (Name THAT movie, you werkers) is that he ended up getting this poor girl in trouble when her manager saw the name on the slip of paper that she was about to read. “We have famous people who come in all the time” he tells her. "What if she (Mary S) actually came in?" Well I can pretty much bet on 1000 to one odds that Mrs. Ted Danson would not be frequenting the Baja Fresh on Cool Springs Blvd today, but whatever. After Joel related this story to us we decided that Mary needed a day in her honor. And that day is today. So a very merry Steenburgen to you. (and you and you)

There's a new Pet in town

Yes, the trifecta of roommates has added one more to our little home. His name is Franz. No, he’s not a handsome French man, although we wish he were! No, no, little Franz is short- about 1 ½ feet tall, and has a wooden stalk and green fronds…. Get it? (I credit Emily with that clever little pun of a name.) But yes, Franz is our new house plant- a type of palm, actually, and I discovered him at Home Depot on Sunday while doing a little herb shopping with mom. Emily and Rhonda promised to help me keep him alive because I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to remembering to water my plants. He only needs moderate moisture though, so I am thinking a few waterings a week oughta be ok.

Now the Home Depot garden center is a place where I just discovered I could spend quite a bit of time and money- I was overwhelmed by all the flowering trees and tropical plants- I wanted them all! But no Amanda, relax- you only have about 5 square feet to work with out on your deck, and even that is technically split into three ways between you, Emily and Rhonda. So I held things under control for purely spatial and budgetary reasons, and came out with two cheery red geraniums, two tomato plants, some chives, Italian flatleaf parsley, oregano, basil, and cilantro. Just call me Chef Boyardee cause some home cookin is comin’ right up. Hmm… I keep re-reading that description of the red geraniums, and it’s bothering me. I did mean to say cheery, not cherry, but I still feel like it looks like a typo- somehow the word cheerful did not sound right either- so for the record, the description stands as is.

Hope each of you has a gloriously happy Hump Day. Only one more work day this week till Ari and I jet set down to Houston to visit Conley, and Emmy Sue flies to the Big D to visit college friends, and then Rhonda’s entire family practically comes into town. And don’t be jealous you out-of-towners, but it’s shaping up to be another summery day here in the Ville, so I’m sensing another outdoors lunch. Who’s goin with me?

Tales from the Penthouse

My morning pilates got interrupted by one very disturbed roommate, Rhonda Lu, whose worst fears were realized in the shower this warm and sunny a.m. She burst into the living room, glasses on and towel wrapped around her and begins The Story. Rhonda had just hopped into the shower this morning and for one reason or another, she didn’t have her contacts in. Well, as she squinted she saw a blackish blob at the far end of our shower. Rhonda jumped out, reached for her towel and glasses and realized she had a little friend trying to get squeaky clean as well. This unknown species of multi-legged bug was promptly sprayed by, what else, Glade Air freshener, and it was right after this that Rhonda ran into the living room horror-stricken to relate the tale.

With the pilates video paused, we bravely marched back into the bathroom. I swear I could hear the music from Psycho playing in my inner monologue as I asked Rhonda where the bug was, and slowly peeled back the shower curtain. We squealed like, well, girls. This thing was huge! (In all actuality, it was probably only an inch or so long, but in bug size, that’s ginormous!) What followed were my feeble attempts to drown this uninvited visitor by splashing water on him, Rhonda dashing off to the kitchen to see if we had any bug spray, me hollering in a panicked voice, “it’s not working! It’s not working! Bring me a shoe!” Finally Rhonda appeared back in the bathroom, producing a can of Raid, and I ran out of the bathroom to grab a flip-flop because the darn thing was still wriggling. I figured, better to put him out of his misery quickly. A few swats later, the scary bug was smashed and wrapped up in not one, but two paper towels and promptly thrown away. “You’re my hero!” Rhonda exclaimed, and I’m feeling pretty heroic myself, not being the hugest fan of bugs in the first place. (I figured I owed her from that time I made her fish her perfume bottle out of the toilet while I stood by as an innocent bystander.) So crisis averted, we went on with our mornings. But if it’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, these things never come in onsies. Where there’s one, there is more. And how many more showers will it take before the horrific sites are erased from our minds, and the paranoia disappeared every time one of us pulls back the shower curtain? We must be brave. The cleanliness must go on.

Dean's List!!!

I am a proud big sister, so it's time to brag a little bit!

My kid sis, Laura Lee, Lu-Lu, Double L, Red (MY, this girl has got some slew of nicknames!) has just found out that she made the Dean's List for this semester, making both her semester GPA and her overall cum GPA an A average! I am grinning like an idiot over here (good thing my back is to everyone in my cubicle so I don't get any weird looks), and so I thought anyone who remotely shares my enthusiasm might want the opportunity to congratulate her yourself. She does check the blog from time to time when I harass her about NOT reading it! :o)

CONGRATULATIONS LAURA! I AM SO PROUD OF YOUR HARD WORK!

Big Pimpin

At approximately 9pm last night, the Penthouse Pets plus Mary Anna (an honorary roommate) rolled into Jonathan’s at Cool Springs ready to celebrate 05-05-05. Oh- I guess I should back up. First Ari, Momma B, and my boss Joel went to grab some dinner, chips, and margaritas at Lost Promise. Or Las Palmas, depending on who you ask. It was an interesting couple of hours, and I’ll leave it at that. All of my worlds were colliding at once and plus everything’s a little crazy in a Mexican restaurant on Cinco de Mayo. So back to 9pm, we get in free to Jonathan’s, who is having this supposedly huge party sponsored by Corona. But really, it’s all old people trying to slow dance to the Mexican music, and stuck-up Brentwoodians and Franklinites desperately trying to have a good time despite being trapped in the Bubble. (By the way- it used to be the Brentwood Bubble- but now I am thinking this bubble includes Franklin people as well. It’s pretty much them versus the Columbia and Spring Hill people- the black sheep of the county, if you will.) We made our own fun, had some free coronas, ran into a girl from church, and hung out a while before moving on to locale numero dos. As we’re leaving Jonathan’s I see Ari at the front and pull her along for the ride. Literally. We had a limo full of us girls, plus Stewart (Rhonda’s coworker, the British guy with a quasi Boston accent) and JJ, the Corona guy. We were whisked away to yet another Cinco de Mayo party in the lap of luxary- and it was Rhonda Lu’s first time in a limo, so she was giddy. Actually, we all kind of were, so we were singing every rap and Dixie Chicks song on the radio. Our driver Tom took us to Sam’s in the Village where we found more people we knew from church, and I saw my friend Kacey from Governor’s school. This mix of people was a lot more fun to hang out with, and we stayed here for what felt like hours. In reality, when the limo dropped us off at the Penthouse, it was only a little after 12:30!! When did we get old, because I realized I wasn’t 21 anymore when I woke up with black eye makeup everywhere this morning and had to drag my sleepy self to work. What can I say? Pimpin ain’t easy. Happy Friday to all y’all.

05-05-05

Happy Cinco de Mayo dear friends! After doing a bit of research I discovered this a.m. that this day is not really celebrating Mexico’s Independence Day, but rather a victory over the French foreign Legion army in 1862. The Mexicans were outmanned 4,000 to 8,000 and the French boasted the latest technology in artillery, but yet those persistent Mexican warriors triumphed. They must have eaten their Taco Bell that morning. So now you can wow your friends with your insider knowledge of this American-adopted holiday that gives us an excuse to eat chips and salsa and drink margaritas (as if one really needs an excuse! No joke, a few weeks ago I had Mexican food 5 times in one week!).

That said, I like Mexican food as much as the next gal, but a word to the wise: please save your Spanish speaking for authentic Mexican establishments and not for the drive through at Taco Bell. I have seen/heard a person do this before. All this does is annoy the upstanding young fast-food worker, and up the odds that something fishy will be done to your order before it hits the drive through window. Part two of the no speaking Spanish clause falls when you attempt to speak Spanish in an authentic or semi-authentic restaurant, and the Hispanic person speaks English back to you. I witnessed this happening in Baja Burrito one day. It was lunch hour and as any Nashvillian knows, this place is a freaking zoo, but they have the best burritos in town and this amazing pineapple salsa that keeps customers coming back for more. There was a guy in line behind me who attempted to order in Spanish- it was loud in the restaurant, his Spanish was lousy and hesitant (and this is coming from an admitted non-Spanish speaker), and the worker behind the counter wouldn’t give the guy the time of day, and responded to all of his mutterings in English. Sir, give it up. I just laughed to myself, and ate my amazing burrito.

Is it lunchtime yet? Hmmm… Happy 05-05-05! Ole’!

Bowling for teenagers

The Bradley trio had a grand ole’ time last night despite being overrun with prepubescent punk rockers. Let me just say that I will never get the fun in standing in the middle of a large crowd and running and banging into your friends and strangers. I guess this would be considered moshing. I call it just plain inconsiderate. Laura and I were both ready to throw punches at the first idiot guy (because of course no women were stupid enough to be involved in this) who ran into us, and I came pretty close to shoving someone before the three of us were able to move to the other side of the crowd. Here we were able to stand in the back of the crowd with the older contingency and enjoy the tongue-in-cheek quips from the Texas-bred Bowling for Soup. The lead singer had this insanely high-pitched tenor voice that was a combination of Crusty the Clown and a munchkin, but it cut through the loud guitar quite clearly. The songs were catchy, the melodies easy to pick up, and the lyrics hysterical. One song was about a guy vandalizing his ex-girlfriend’s car, and that was pretty funny. These kids will be back in the Ville this summer sometime, so if anyone’s looking for some fairly cheap entertainment (and I don’t mean me) then I definitely recommend checking them out at your local neighborhood venue.

Also worth note would be the moment when American High-Fi (the opening band- you’ll know them from their sing-along ditty, Flavor of the Week) would be when the lead singer asked the audience to pretend it was 1987 and pull out your bic-lighters and pretend you’re at a Bon Jovi concert. This was quite the stretch of the imagination because one, most of the audience was not even born in 1987. And two, almost no one had a bic lighter because they were taken at the door and everyone was wanded with a metal detector before we could get in. So what did our hi-tech, resourceful teens do? They whipped out the cell phones for the obligatory swaying, waving light in the air during the power ballad.

a date with dad

In about an hour I will be gearing up for a fun evening out with 2 of my most favorite people in the world: my dad, and my sister. Laura and I are treating Dad to a night out on the town, which translates into dinner and a Bowling for Soup concert. Yes, you read that correctly. My dad is a fan of the pop rock group most famous for their little “1985” ditty. This is a belated birthday present and should make for an enjoyable evening. Being in the music industry, dad has always been hip to the latest music and styles. While I find it endearing and fascinating now, I wasn’t so keen on it in the early 90s when he tried to wear the Grunge look. You older kids especially will remember what I am talking about. T-shirts untucked. Open button- down shirts… oh, the horror. It was also around this time that my friend Emily from middle school played me a tape (there’s a clue for you right there of how long ago this was!) of a band that her brother had. The tape was Pearl Jam’s “Ten,” and while I recall thinking it was just a lot of screaming and loud guitar, I thought it was the coolest thing ever since I happened to also have a crush on her older brother. :o)

I must get my impeccable sense of style from my father, and musical premonitions on what’s going to be popular, because less than a year ago I was looking for hot pink bath accessories to decorate the Penthouse bathroom and they were nowhere to be found. Now hot pink everything is everywhere! I also was into the Spice Girls way before they hit mainstream when a friend and I were up late one night talking on the phone. And no, I am not ashamed to admit that I worshipped the Spice Girls for about the entirety of my senior year. Me and 4 of my friends even dressed up like the British lasses for our school-wide Lip Sync competition- (we were robbed by the way! 3rd place my butt!) I’ll give you 3 guesses as to which Spice I impersonated!

Fantastic start to a fantastic day

Hump Day indeed. And the sun is shining, and I have a cute outfit on. I’m also having lunch with Holt at Mexicali at noon- It’s going to be a fantastic day.

As of late, fantastic has become one of my new favorite words. A self-proclaimed Lexophiliac, I often find these random words in the English language and get suddenly attached. "Fabulous" use to be it- but now I think I’ve replaced that with "fantastic." Isn’t that fantastic?

Laura always says that people never use the word "delicious" enough, and I’d have to agree. "How is the veal?" One would ask. To which I might reply, "it’s awful," because I tried lamb about a month ago and I wasn't a fan. But if you were to ask, say, "how are the chicken tenders?" Well, I’d say "they’re delicious." Or fantastic. Whichever pops out first.

I think the fantastic thing came from Ron Burgundy- yes, yet another Anchor Man reference. But it’s not my fault I pick up words and phrases so easily! Especially at work. When you sit in a big open room full of cubicles, you can’t help but overhear others' conversations- or at least one side of them when they’re on the phone, so in the past week or two I noticed when I’m about to hang up the phone with a customer I say “all-righty.” Where the heck did I pick That up from?? And yesterday was the worst to date. The words "Okey-dokey" flew out of my mouth. Could I BE more annoying? I blame the "okey-dokey" one fully on Marvin, my fatherly team leader who sits directly across from me, and who probably wonders why I haven’t yet made any phone calls this morning. Well, it’s because I have to type this out and publish it on the blog! I know where my priorities lie. And I’m not lying. :o)

free at last!!!

My first free weekend from Pirates in My Pants (thank you for that Ann) and of course I had every second crammed with activities.

My Friday afternoon started by meeting the roomies downtown at Logan's for Happy Hour- I always feel so grown up when i do that (and by always, I mean the 3 times in my life that I have had drinks after work). Also joining us for drinks was cutie patootie Rick who works as a student worker in Emmy Sue's office. She called me from work that afternoon and said Amanda, I'm bringing you a hot foreign boy to Logan's. My heart leapt. Don't I have the most wonderful roommates? Well anyways, Rick had a previous engagement that he had to run to after not staying so long at Logan's, but at any rate, he was pretty to look at! :o) (Can I get a Rickmo? Someone? Anyone?)

After Logan's, Rhonda, myself, Emily, Ashley (a co-worker of E's) and her husband Kurt went to Vandy to see if we could hear or see any of the bands playing in Rites of Spring (the outdoor music festival at VU). Unfortunately, we couldn't get to a porch where we could see the bands playing, so we went into the conference room in Emily's office, opened the window and listened to the music faintly playing in the distance, while the 5 of us took advantage of the big marker board and played an impromptu game of pictionary. (Em- the next time I visit your office there'd better be a picture of me up somewhere!) After that, a dinner with the girls at the OC, I met Liz, Dion, and Ari at Corky's, they convinced me to go out that night (even though I had to be at the Collesium at 8 am the next morning), and the four UK grads headed to 2nd Avenue. The nightlife on 2nd was pretty much a bust, but at least we all got to hang out some.

Saturday morning came early, and the 3 Pets headed down to the Collesium for Spring Clean. We were broken up into teams where we then went to various houses and helped elderly and disabled people with some yardwork and outdoor chores. This would have been fantastically fun if the weather had been like it was LAST weekend- unfortunately, it was about 50 degrees, windy, and cloudy. My favorite quote from the weekend, aside from the woman with 5 dogs and 3 cats telling Cal about the "colored fellow" she used to have help her in her yard, was when I announced that I was standing by Adam "to break the wind." As soon as the words came out of my mouth I realized how it probably sounded, and the boys were quick to jump in with a laugh and a jeer in my direction. (Thank you, middle school humor)

Sat night we drove to BFE (aka Spring Hill) for Angela's housewarming/birthday party and had a jolly good time laughing, drinking Tooters (blue koolaide/windex/rubbing alcohol), and playing Scene It. This game is awesome! I had been wanting to play it for a long time- and it was well worth the wait. And what did learn playing this game? That cheaters Really do not ever win. Honestly. Dion moved our team's game piece forward a few spaces when no one was looking and we Still didn't win! It made the game mroe entertaining for us though. :o)

Sunday Mike preached about fasting. I've never fasted from food before, but I am wondering if my self-imposed band on buying clothes, shoes, and purses counts as a fast. Probably not. But at least every time I think about buying something like that I am reminded of how much I have, and how blessed I am as an American. It hasn't lead me to a deeper prayer life so far, so I guess I can't just decide that this counts as a fast as an afterthought. If I can work up my nerve I am going to fast from the internet for 24 hours. That will be hard for me, as I have a habit of checking websites periodically throughout my day. My mind just tends to wander during lulls in the day, and the internet is such an easy vice to take up. What if every time your mind wandered during your work day though, it landed and settled on God? It seems like an impossible task to accomplish, but a tangible way to involve God more in my humdrum work day. Every time I need a mental break I'm going to talk to God and read a few verses of scripture, so we'll see how that goes.

Till then, hope you are having a fantastic day. Stay classy Nashville, and thanks for stopping by.

What IS it with people and their pets?

I’m an animal lover. I break for birds (and even got a ticket one time from this evil police officer even though I was sobbing after a bird had hit my windshield on the BG Parkway). I teared up on a hayride my freshman year in college because I had never been that close to a cow and I thought they were so cute. I gravitate towards greeting cards with animals on them, and I love to cuddle with fury (friendly) critters. But even I can see the ridiculousness of people who spend as much on their pets as they would a child.

Flipping channels one day I happened to see everyone’s favorite newlywed couple on MTV with their little fluffy frou-frou dog. Jessica took the dog to Louie Vitton to buy a larger carrying case for the canine, and wound up with a matching collar and leash to boot. Nick made the comment that “it’s sad when the cheapest thing in the equation is the dog.”

And today at work, on a much lesser scale of outlandish spending on pets, a girl brought her 7-week-old Chihuahua in (named Oliver Sanchez) with a necklace on that she had bought at the trendy Village boutique Pangea! For one, it’s a boy dog! (True, it was a blue beaded necklace) But two, Pangea, are you kidding me? Does anyone else besides me think it’s pretentious to buy jewelry for your pet from one of the trendiest stores in Nashville? I’ll admit, Oliver (Clothesoff) does look mighty cute trotting around the office in his little accessory, but I wouldn’t be surprised if one day we discover that Mr. Sanchez is a flaming metrosexual.

Just the facts, Ma'am

Well, as several of you pointed out, I was so focused on getting my information for the new pope correct that I failed to take the time to find out exactly who the president was at my time of birth (Now think for a minute if it Were Lyndon Johnson though! If he had been president since 1963 and was just now keeling over- can you imagine the shape this country would be in?). I figured I must need a little refresher history course and would humor the rest of you with my findings. I wanted to research my confused P’s of the US of A’s and find out first and foremost, When they were in office, and secondly, What they did while they were in office. Most of what follows is paraphrased and quoted from the Grolier’s online dictionary.

First, Lyndon Baines Johnson.

LBJ became the 36th president of the United States on the assassination of John F. Kennedy on Nov. 22, 1963. A skilled promoter of liberal domestic legislation, he was also a staunch believer in the use of military force to help achieve the country's foreign policy objectives. His escalation of American involvement in the Vietnam War eroded his popular standing by deflecting attention from domestic concerns, resulting in sharp inflation, and prompting rising criticism, especially among young, draft-aged people. Escalation also failed to win the war. All of this led to his decision not to run for reelection to the presidency in 1968.

Some important highlights of Johnson’s presidency:

*Civil Rights Act in 1964
*Medicare program
*The Voting Rights Act of 1965
*Vietnam war escalation

Richard M. Nixon followed LBJ at the next president in office, and we all know what happened There- no confusing old Tricky Nicky!

And now moving forward twenty years, James Earl Carter served from 1977 to 1981 as the 39th president of the United States.

Jimmy Carter was a renowned southern Baptist, and a deeply and openly religious man. He had focused his campaign on government failures rather than on programs and policies, stressing a commitment to human rights and an open foreign policy, discussing issues usually reserved for private diplomatic sessions. Many applauded the change, but his openness sometimes created diplomatic problems abroad. The main source of difficulty for the Carter administration was the economy. Unemployment decreased during the first half of Carter's term, but inflation rose sharply and was a serious political liability during his second two years. The Republican nominee, Ronald Reagan, successfully built inflation and the fear of U.S. military weakness into the major campaign issues, and he easily defeated Carter in the Nov. 4, 1980, presidential election. In the last month of Carter's administration negotiations with Iran, through Algerian intermediaries, finally produced freedom for the hostages in Tehran. They were released on Jan. 20, 1981, as Reagan was inaugurated.

Some important highlights of Carter’s presidency:

*U.S. boycott of the 1980 Olympic Games in Moscow
*Iranian hostage crisis
*Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan, so an embargo was placed on SU

All right, well now that we have that cleared up, there is one more mystery. Anonymous poster who goes by the alias letter E, show yourself! Could it be one Knoxville resident who shall be known forever more in the wedding scrapbook of Heather and Jacob as Tulle-Pac?

Habemus papam

or … We have a pope.

Being that I’m half-catholic, I have been following this process and find it highly interesting. Today the cardinals, or Princes of the church, have ended their conclave in the Vatican and have chosen the next pope. The new pontiff is a German man by the name of Joseph Ratzinger; his new papal name is Benedict XVI. For many of us, we have never known another pope besides JPII. Think of it like this- what if Linden B Johnson (who was president when I was born) had been president all this time (Lord help us), and had just now become deceased, therefore vacating his position as president of the United States? That’s the closest way I can think of comparing it. For Catholics this must be even weirder to have a new Pope, but I am fascinated by the entire process.

Ratzinger is an older man, already 78. From the things I have read, it has been tradition to follow the lengthy reign of one pope with a shorter reign of another. For example, JPII followed a pope (Pius 23rd?) that was only pope for 2 weeks before he died. So what do we know about Ratzinger?

*He is an accomplished pianist who loves Mozart in particular

*He speaks several languages, including English, Italian, & of course, German

*Ratzinger chose the name Benedict, which comes from the Latin for “blessing”

And a quote from the pope, before he was elected, which defines his standpoint in the church:
“Having a clear faith, based on the creed of the church, is often labeled today as a fundamentalism, whereas relativism, which is letting oneself be tossed and ’swept along by every wind of teaching,’ looks like the only attitude acceptable to today’s standards…we are moving toward a dictatorship of relativism which does not recognize anything as for certain and which has as its highest goal one’s own ego and one’s own desires,” he warned.

Following is the text of Pope Benedict XVI’s first address to the world after being elected as pontiff on Tuesday. The new pope, the former Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger of Germany, delivered the address in Italian from the central balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica:

Dear brothers and sisters,
After the Great Pope John Paul II, the cardinals have elected me, a simple, humble worker in the Lord’s vineyard.
I am comforted by the fact that the Lord knows how to work and act even with insufficient instruments. And above all, I entrust myself to your prayers.
With the joy of the risen Lord and confidence in his constant help, we will go forward. The Lord will help us and Mary his most holy mother will be alongside us.
Thank you.

Catholic or not, this is a major world event; one that could shape the views of Christianity in this new millenium.

“Viva il Papa!” or “Long live the pope!”

hip-hop remixes disguised as complicated music theory lessons

Only you music people out there will appreciate this, but yesterday as I leave work, I’m in a great mood. It’s 5 o’clock (somewhere), the sun is shining, the windows are down, and I’m flipping channels on the radio to find some good drive-time music. Eventually the radio dial lands on 101.1 (the Beat Jams) and the DJ Butterfly mix. Well I don’t know what homegirl Butterfly thought she was doing, but she had somehow remixed the Destiny’s Child song “Naughty Girl” with a beat from another song that was in a completely different and, might I add, non-complimentary key. “It’s bi-tonal,” I thought, the music nerd coming out in me. But then the more I listened, the more horrified I became. Who decided this sounds good, I thought? Immediately I reached for the phone and speed-dialed Ariana, who was also in her car on her afternoon commute. “Turn on 101.1 right now,” I said. “I’m on it!” She exclaimed. “Dude, it’s in 2 different keys.” “It’s bi-tonal!” I exclaimed gleefully, happy that my expensive out-of-state-tuition education was coming in handy in life (if one considers applying music theory concepts to everyday life handy, which I do).

Ari and I talk animatedly over the terrible remix, wondering who in their right mind decided this debauchery of Beyonce was ear-pleasing, especially to the average Joe who’s not going to know or care about the bitonality. I was amused nonetheless. Who says rap and hip-hop aren’t viable genres of music? I mean, in all fairness, the complexity of this Destiny’s Child remix puts Hanson’s 3-chord Mmm-Bop to shame any day.

And have you heard? Backstreet’s back. As if they weren’t bad enough when they were young and cute, now they’re older and have matured as “musicians.” Riiiight.

ho-hum

I'm bored at work. I made my sales goal well before lunch and so have been slacking this afternoon because of it. I wish I were able to post pictures on here from work, but sadly that is not possible. The show is over, I am relieved to have some free time. Germany is a no-go, and tonight I'll be spending some time with the roommates watching either Wimbledon or Friday Night Lights...or BOTH- we just may be That crazy- who knows! The blog has been a little sporatic and dreary lately, so sorry about that. Maybe if I thought people were enjoying it and commenting more there'd be more of an incentive to write... but maybe if there were more interesting topics on here, more people would read and comment! ooohhh- now There's a Catch 22 if I ever heard one. Or read one I guess, if we're being technical. And we always are.

I still have yet to blog about the fantastic book I read, Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. It is a great read, directed towards younger folks, but had so much great insight that I read it with a pen and bookmark in-hand so I could underline things as I went along. I started this book in January, put it down, and came back to it a few weeks ago and couldn't wait to read it and finish it. To anyone who is seeking examples of what it means to truly live out a life for Christ, this book puts things into perspective. One thing I will share is that the author told a story about one of his girl friends. This friend felt convicted about how much unnecessary clothing she bought, so she went an entire year without buying a single piece of new clothing to show herself- and others I suppose- how needlessly we as Americans spend our money. An entire year without buying clothes I thought. That would be an almost impossible thing for me to do- especially if one counts shoes and purses as clothing- but I decided to challenge myself and just see how long I could actually go without giving in or forgetting and buying clothes that I honestly don't need. It's been a few weeks so far, and so far so good. An interesting concept, so I'm intrigued to see what happens. How long will it take me before I feel like I HAVE to have a new pair of shoes? Or how long before I simply forget and purchase a new shirt? Those of you whom I live and work with can hold me accountable, okay?

Alrighty kids- happy Monday... it's almost time to bust out and get a healthy dose of sunshine! yippeee

out with the old, in with the new

Thank goodness for Fridays, and sunshine, and spring weather. My sparkle-meter is running low on fuel, but the angry masses are complaining that there was no blog yesterday (the angry masses of course, being my father). So here goes nothin’. There are 2 shows left of Pirates. On one hand I am so totally excited that my life will be returning to some semblance of normalcy. I will have more than one free night during the week. I will be able to focus more on my small group. I will be able to get outside and do athletic things, and heck, even just be outside when it is still light outside.

However, the end of a show is always sad. For 4 months now I have seen this group of people, my fellow cast members and crew, almost every day, and now after Saturday there are many of them that I may never see or work with on a show again! You form all these theater bonds and friendships, and suddenly just when you start to feel close, the performance run is over.

Case in point. There is one pirate who I thought was flamboyantly obnoxious at first, and thought to myself, what a drama queen- there is no way that he and I will be friends. And now, he is still flamboyant, but he does my hair every night, and we bonded the night he told me of his (honest-to-God) miraculous healing from spinal meningitis.

Another girl, my pal Ann, was introduced to me by our mutual friend Tadd. One day I had a costume emergency and the props lady said, “Amanda, who is your best friend in the cast?” because we needed another girl to aid in the fixing of the blue dress (“Where’s my blue dress? Where’s my blue dress? It’s not here, it’s not here!” “I told you to lay off the cheesy poufs.”) “Ann,” I said, without hesitation. “Awww, I’m your best friend in the show?” she said. That was our bonding moment.

Anywho- and by the way- I think that word is completely obnoxious, but it fits the mood I’m in this morning- for 4 months I have become a character, rearranged my life to fit around this character, and suddenly it’s all about to end. I hate saying goodbyes, and I hate change. I realize it’s inevitable, and that change is often a good thing, but it still doesn’t make the actual transition of changing any easier. I wish time could just fast-forward through all of that icky-transitional garbage, and suddenly, you are in your new phase of life- your new job, your new house, your new relationship, without actually having to experience the loss of one thing to gain another. A thought though- without experiencing loss, you could never experience the giddiness and excitement of starting something new either. True, the times in our lives that are upheaveled by change are the exciting times. Everything else is humdrum, routine, and boring. (Ann, that’s my deep thought for the day) So I will do my best to finish the show Saturday night sans-tears, but no promises there.

The moral of the story is that yes, change sucks. We are creatures of habit. But that it is the change that makes up appreciate the newness in life, and forces us to see what we gain by giving up the old.

weird, wild stuff

We had a girls lunch today to celebrate a coworker’s birthday and went to Maniac’s (“She’s a Maaaaaniac- Maaaaaaaniac on the floor…”). There were 6 of us at the table and Ari was the only one who had a lid on her drink. I had actually looked for lids when mixing my superb 3-to-2 ratio blend of unsweet, sweet tea, and lemon, but didn’t see them at the drink station, so I went without. Once we realize Ari is in fact the only one with a lid for her cup, she says it’s because she’s clumsy and all the rest of us are Big girls who don’t spill their drinks. “Watch,” she says, “now one of you is going to spill yours now that I’ve said that.” And I’ll be darned if not halfway through lunch I tipped over my cup and lost my perfect blend of tea! I can’t tell you the last time I spilled something. Generally it’s not a common occurrence among adults. So did I spill it because we talked about it before hand, or would I have spilled it anyways, even if I had had a lid on my cup? Oooohhhhh, spoookkkyyyyy!! (and if a tree fell in the woods and no one was around to hear it, did it still make a sound?)

Happy Birthday Daddy B

One Sunday morning, April 13, 1952, Michael Len Bradley was born in Hickman, KY. The youngest of 3 children, Little Mikey and his family moved all over the state of Kentucky along the Ohio River where his father worked first as a barge pilot and then on the WPA-produced Ohio River dam projects (Thank you FDR for those We Piddle Around projects). Mike was a mischevious young boy who often found his way into trouble with cousin Dennis, but mostly Mike played along the river (blowing up rats with firecrackers) and played baseball where he grew to be a mean southpaw (that's a left-handed pitcher for those not in-the-know). The Bradley family finally settled in Cannelton, IN when Mike was in the 7th grade, and he stayed here until he finished out high school. Mike was a talented trumpet player in the high school marching band, played guitar in a band called the Front Cover, participated in varsity basketball, football, track, and baseball. He was voted Most attractive his senior year, and as captain of the (winless) football team was forced to kiss the homecoming queen during halftime with girlfriend Susi Huber standing by with a stopwatch to time the kiss.

He and Susi began dating right before Mike's freshman year in highschool when Susi approached him to ask him how to play a certain chord in the song by the Animals, "House of the Rising Sun." (Really, this was a ploy as Susi was a forward girl and really this was her way of meeting Mike and getting him to ask her out. The ploy must have worked. We women are so smart- making it seem like it is the guy's idea, when really we are planting those little ideas into their heads... but I digress).

Mike graduated high school and went on to Murray State University where he majored in communications and pledged the Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity. Mike had the distinct honor of receiving the Chicken Sh*t Active award for being the worst hazer out of all the actives. However, hazing back then is not what it is today. Mike made the Pike pledges do fun things like clean his apartment floor with a toothbrush and memorize facts about country music singer Tom T. Hall. Girlfriend Susi followed Mike to Murray State where she "helped" him through school, and he eventually received his Bachelor's degree. Mike and Susi married in 1973 and then moved to Nashville where Mike sucessfully pursued his lifelong dream of becoming a recording engineer.

He was named Music Row Magazine's Engineer of the year 4 years in a row, and currently manages and co-owns Soundshop Recording Studios right off Music Row in dowtown Nashville.

Mike, or Dad as we call him, is a great father, always going out of his way to make his family comfortable, was a softball coach for Laura, helped construct a larger-than-life paper mache' Alligator for my 2nd grade class, and camped with us in the backyard when we were little. Now he and I talk about music and spiritual subjects, and watch Kentucky football and basketball together. Favorites include the Rolling Stones, homemade vanilla ice cream, and his 1982 Heritage Softtail model Harley Davidson.

Happy 53rd Birthday, Dad! Here's to 53 more!

Waiting for Guffman: the reality series

It was a beautiful and sunny Tennessee Saturday, when Iain, my director, called me around 2 in the afternoon. “Ricky isn’t going to be able to sing tonight- even his speaking voice is completely gone, so I’m going to be filling in for him tonight. Just wanted to prepare you.”

Exqueeze me, What? I’m sorry Iain, I must have misunderstood you. It sounded like you said that you, in all your 60 year old, fluffy white haired glory, would be playing the part of 21 year old Fredrick tonight.

Oh yes. It actually happened. Twice. And what followed between Ann and myself were a series of Waiting for Guffman quotes backstage. (This movie is a must see for anyone who has done theater before, particularly community theater.)

All I could hear was Parker Posey saying, “Y’all, it is the day of the show,” in the part of the movie where the cast finds out that Johnny Savage cannot perform that night in “Red, White, and Blaine.” Only this time, we were doing "Pirates of Penzance," and instead of Corky St. Clair, we were stuck with Iain. There is a scene where Corky is trying to fit into Johnny’s costume, and of course it doesn’t fit (“I’m trying,” Corky says, “I’m shoving everything to the left.”). Iain luckily found a different costume to wear. There’s also a Guffman scene with Parker Posey and Corky St. Clair in their song-and- dance love scene “A Penny for your thoughts” which scarily resembled the Pirates “Stay Fredrick Stay/Oh here is love” duet in the second act between Mabel and Frederick.

I was literally living out this mockumentary and was a cheap laugh for the audience at my expense. Sunday’s performance was even worse, because not only was the audience not as forgiving and understanding, but Iain turned into a letch onstage, making goofy faces at me, trying to get me to break character, and ultimately gnawing playfully (ie. Disgustingly) at my neck at the end of the Act 1 finale, prompting me to tell him to “please be professional” in front of the entire cast backstage during intermission. He completely grossed me out. I tried my hardest to stay in character, but the entire situation was just laughable, and a DIVA can only take so much.

I know this: I will never look at "Waiting for Guffman" the same again.

Stay tuned for more stories from the Port of Penzance, as Ricky is still sick, and Iain has an understudy coming in for tomorrow night’s performance.

Happy Birthday Momma B

On April 9, 1953 in a little town on the Ohio River known as Cannelton Indiana, Susan Lee Huber was born into the world. Susan, or Susi, as she was known by family and friends, was the 3rd of 7 children. She made her theater debut in the Emperor's New Clothes at a community theater in nearby Tell City, IN, later going on to perform in her high school's production of Lil Abner. Susi was a girl scout, participated in the high school marching band, majorettes, and was a varsity cheerleader. She was suspended once in high school for her then-boyfriend Mike Bradley picking her up in the hall. Overall though, she was a good kid and rarely gave her parents any trouble. (When she did get in trouble, you can bet Mike Bradley was behind it however.) Susi always said she wanted to be a secretary and a mom when she grew up. She went on to Murray State University where she did not pledge a sorority, but was a Pi Kappa Alpha groupie known as a Pikette. (Pike Little Sis's were sluts she claims, while the Pikettes were legitimately cool girls) Susi got her associates degree, married beloved husband Mike Bradley, and moved to Nashville,TN where she lived until 1995. In '95 Susan uprooted her family and moved them across town to the snooty Bubble, aka Brentwood, TN.

Susan, or Mom as I fondly refer to her as, now works as the athletics secretary and guidance assistant at Ravenwood High School. She wears red almost as much as I wear pink, and loves Mel Gibson, JFK, Bobby Knight, Simon & Garfunkel, and that sorry excuse for a movie, Phantom of the Opera. She loves to shop at Steinmart and spend time with her girls.

She is a wonderful mother because of her willingness to sacrifice her time and energy for her daughters, and has become a terrific friend to both Laura and I. She and dad bond by going to high school sporting events together and doing yard work.

Let's give a big round of applause for Momma B who turned 52 today!!

Lover of all things pink Except...

The Pink Eye.

So I walked into the theater last night and Iain, my Scottish director pulled me aside very seriously and said, Ricky’s sick. Much to my chagrin, he told me that Ricky has strep throat (!) and pink eye (double !). Iain bought alcohol swabs and hand sanitizer, and told Ricky not to come to the theater until close to 7 that night (The show starts at 7:30, but call for the rest of us is 5:30). Not to belittle the seriousness of strep throat because I definitely don’t want that, but I am horrified and disgusted by Conjunctivitis, otherwise known to the layperson as pink eye. I contracted this dreadful taboo disease my senior year in high school from a guy I was dating at the time. The focker gave me pink eye after hanging out for the first time and eventually skipped out on my birthday party a few weeks later- the relationship fizzled shortly thereafter, but I did manage to keep his copy of Barber’s Adagio for Strings and it is the best recording of it I have ever heard. I consider it the spoils of the relationship. He gives me pink eye, I keep his limited edition Sony Classics Royal edition of a Bernstein recording.

Next to lice and worms, both of which I have been fortunate enough to never have, pink eye is third on my list of diseases that completely gross me out. I think I missed school for 3 or 4 days with pink eye my senior year because of the contagiousness of this wonky-eye-causing plague. Plus your eye gets all pink (imagine that), swollen, and cruddy. It’s absolutely nasty, and I refuse to be seen in public with it. Call me vain or considerate, but either way, you won’t see me out and about if I do end up catching this from Ricky.

Trust me, hands were washed excessively, I held my breath at every opportunity when on stage with him (but how hard this is when one is singing!), and wore my lace gloves the entire show as a protective shield. Not sure how effective any of that will be, but we’re popping vitamin c and Echinacea like it’s our job. And speaking of jobs, I must get back to mine.

Have a good weekend. Live long and prosper.

Ho_y Mo_ey!!

On my way to lunch today I told Ariana and Angela, I’m in a giddy mood. I feel like laughing. I hope we laugh a lot at lunch today.

We got on the subject of accents because I had a lady from California tell me on the phone today that I have one. "Where are you from," she said, "because you have an accent." She didn’t say it in an accusatory manner, but at the same time, I got defensive when I mentioned this customer’s comment to Joel and Ari. You DO have an accent Joel said. Come on, the guy’s from Texas. (Tex-@ss!) Your’re telling me that people from Texas don’t have accents? So a group of us are at lunch at Mexicali Grill (mmmmmm) and still talking about accents, when Ari and I tell everyone about a girl we went to school with at UK (yeah thanks I’m fine).

Michelle Napier was Miss Belle County Kentucky, a shady Pi (sorry Mary Anna!), gorgeous, but she knew it unfortunately, and had one of the thickest accents I have Ever heard. (Belle County is eastern Kentucky for your own point of reference; these are the mountain people.)

I had the pleasure of having several music classes with Michelle (prounounced Mee-Shay-ale)(and I’m not kidding), one of which was Vocal Diction. In diction we as singers learned the international phonetic alphabet (IPA for short), which is a bunch of symbols and letters for each vowel and consonant sound. The idea is if you know all the IPA symbols, you can read and pronounce words in English and any other language, even if you don’t necessarily speak the language. It sounds way more complicated than it is, I promise.

One day while working on English diction, we were IPA-ing the word “walk.” This word gave Michelle some trouble because the way she pronounces that word, she puts a Giant L in the middle of it. ie. Wa-LL-k. I explained to the lunch table today that of course the L was silent, and so for Michelle English diction in general was a real nightmare due to her thick southern accent. Joel promptly pointed out that I too have a southern accent (I still don’t see it, but whatever). "Yes," I say, "but mine’s not that bad."

What transpired next was everyone at the table laughing at the preposterous idea of a silent L. "He__o, _aura. You’re the Coo__est!" I was laughing so hard tears were welling up in my eyes, but I still maintained that there is such a thing as the Silent L! Meanwhi_e everyone e_se had a fie_d day saying Joe_ and Ange_a, and go to he__.

However, not too _ong after _unch I received this emai_ from Joe_ titled Ho_y Mo_ey:

FULL CREDIT, Amanda! Look at that pronunciation!

-J

walk (wôlk, wôk)
v. walked, walk·ing, walks
v. intr.
1. To move over a surface by taking steps with the feet at a pace slower than a run: a baby learning to walk; a horse walking around a riding ring.
2.
a. To go or travel on foot: walked to the store.
b. To go on foot for pleasure or exercise; stroll: walked along the beach looking for shells.
c. To move in a manner suggestive of walking: saw a woodpecker walking up the tree trunk.
3. To conduct oneself or behave in a particular manner; live: walks in majesty and pride.
4. To appear as a supernatural being: The specter of famine walks through the land.
5. Slang.
a. To go out on strike.
b. To resign from one's job abruptly; quit.
c. To be acquitted: The alleged killer walked.
6.
a. Baseball. To go to first base after the pitcher has thrown four pitches ruled as balls.
b. Basketball. To move illegally while holding the ball; travel.
7. Obsolete. To be in constant motion.

Good to know. Now we can stop sending e-mai_s to one another.

A funny thing happened on the way to the stage…

Pirates is in full-blown swing right now… only 7 more performances to go! It sounds like a ton, but I am loving the opportunity I’ve been given to be on stage again. Mostly I’ve had good shows. I’ve felt good about my performances with a few small exceptions.

I missed an entrance cue on opening night, trying play it off once I came onstage, but trust me, it hasn’t happened again. One night last weekend I blanked out on my words and started singing Ricky’s lyrics before getting back on track with my own. Really nobody but Ricky and I would know the difference though there, so not a total crisis. And Praise the Lord, I have not fallen down the stairs yet- (and that is a Big Yet!)- so that’s a blessing. I tell you, it’s tough to carry a parasol, hold up a dress, and sing while walking down rickety stairs. (The things we put ourselves through as actors- oh, the horrible injustice!) Speaking of parasols though, I did have a slight scare with that on Friday night I think it was. At the end of “Poor Wandering One” I put the parasol back up for the end of the song, and my lace glove got caught in the metal clasp-thingie at the top, so I panicked momentarily, then finished the song with one hand holding the parasol at the bottom, and the other at the top where it was caught. Luckily, after the song was through I was able to pry my glove out without too much trouble!

And finally, topping our list of funny/panicked moments during the Pirates of Penzance (or Pissants, as my boss Joel would say): yesterday I resisted all of the snacks that people had brought to munch on backstage. Any Diva knows that eating candy and chips before going onstage is a no-no. For one, it makes your breath stink, and two, you get all that garbage stuck in your teeth and coating your throat before you have to sing. Well by the end of the afternoon I was hungry and the willpower just wasn’t there. I had been eyeing this bag of cheesy-poufs for a while, and the bright orange bag began to stare at me. Fine, I said! I’ll just have one. It was almost the end of the last act, and all of my by singing stuff was through for the most part. So I hastily grabbed the bag and allowed the crunchy cheesy goodness to melt in my mouth. Immediately I was reminded why I do not ever buy them: you can’t eat just one. Suddenly it became my mission to finish the 10 cheese poufs that were left in the ginormous bag. Unfortunately though, the Major-General’s solo was already going on, and it was just about time to make our final entrance. Horrified, I realized I was going to have to go onstage with cheese poufs stuck in my teeth! I quickly swished with water and luckily saw that there were no visible remnants of my guilty pleasure, but back in my molars there was definitely some there. No big deal I thought- by the time I have to sing my Poor Wandering One reprise I’ll have the gunk out. This meant that while I was onstage I had to slowly and cautiously maneuver my tongue to get the crud out of the crevices. It’s a big crowd scene- no one will notice. WRONG! It was the first thing my mom and my friend Jenni said to me after the show! “Did you eat something right before you went onstage??” I’d been Caught orange-handed. (No literally- those things turn your fingers orange.) So much for being sly.

PS- I know I got some complaints yesterday for not having blogged in several days (you know who you are.) but let me just say that it was not my fault- the blogger website was down and would not let me post a new blog yesterday. Time permitting, I'll post another one later today. If not, deal with it, because unlike my former job, I don't get paid unless I work at this job! :o)

some heavy and not-so-heavy things to think about

A punny joke for the day

This is on my daily calendar-O-Jokes- most of which are about as funny as Schindler’s List, but today’s was mildly amusing:

Pearl: What are you doing?

Shirl: Making pottery.

Pearl: To earn money?

Shirl: No, I’m just kiln time.

Thank you, Thank you… try the veal, I’ll be here all night, folks.

Ok, how about this one:

Smalls: Baby Ruth? I thought she was a famous potter.

The cute, fat catcher (did he have a name? I’m blank): You’re Kiln me, Smalls!

Ha Ha….. Ha Ha…. Hey- why am I the only one laughing here? Buehler?….

To totally change gears, we here at the headquarters of the Divadomain sometimes feel we must add real, thought provoking topics on here for you to ponder or comment on, in addition to the pointless jargen that often winds up here, in order to maintain the high level of excellence and worthiness of your time that we try to provide here.

Terry Schiavo’s death today has sparked an unreal amount of controversy over a person’s right to die. What do we think about all this? If you were, God forbid, hurt in some sort of accident that reduced you to a vegetative state would you want to be kept alive? I’m not so sure I would. I know the pain it would cause my family to keep me in a hospital for years, and with no hope for recovery, are we just playing God by allowing medical science to keep us alive? However, I CAN look at it from the other standpoint that says as a Christian, we can always pray for a miracle. Who’s to say that God would never have healed Terry? Or who’s to say that God did not provide doctors with the knowledge and ability to sustain life in this manner? I think that if a person I was close to was in this predicament, and they were a believer, I say let them go to God and live in peace and perfection. Keeping someone alive artificially is not for the benefit of the incapacitated person, it is for the benefit of those close to that person who do not want to let go of their loved one. I realize this is also one of those things that many people say they know what their opionion is, but until you are faced with the problem, you wouldn’t truly know how you would react. Just wondering what other fellow readers think about a person's right to die.

movie reviews and thoughts on candy

Hotel Rwanda. Finally saw it- an incredible movie. No longer will I just think of Basher from Ocean’s 11 when I see Don Cheadle. Rather, this role will be his defining one I think. He plays a dignified hotel manager that becomes involved in housing Tutsi refugees during the civil war and genocide that took place in Kegali, Rwanda in 1994. The story is a true one, and accurately depicts what actually occurred over there just over 10 years ago. (wow… Clinton was president 10 years ago? I feel old!) I’m not sure if I agree with Thomas that it was the best movie of the year- although along with the Passion of the Christ, it made the biggest political statement. I’d definitely put Hotel Rwanda in my top 5 of the year though. Go see it, or add it to your upcoming Netflix rental queue. Bradley, Borders, and Walsh give it 2 thumbs up.

Jumping topics, does it make sense to anyone else that the sooner you eat all of your Easter candy, the sooner you can go back to eating healthy again? (Speaking of Eating Healthy- we 3 watched Super Size Me last week- also a Great Movie! Definitely rent this one- it is amazingly funny and scary at the same time to see what a high fat diet can do your body in a month’s time.) (Hearing his Mc-puns alone is worth the rental fee…. McGurgles… McFat…. McBrick). So what if I ate 3 bags of mini Cadbury eggs yesterday? That means I won’t eat them today! Those nasty chocolate temptations are out of sight, out of mind, and into my belly (which has to fit into a bathing suit in about a month). I know all the food conscious will say moderation is key, and you don’t have to deprive yourself of a treat, you just have to control the portions. Well all that goes out the window to me when I have a bag full of chocolate staring at me! In my little world, the sooner I eat all that candy, the sooner it is gone and won’t be there tempting me to eat it, right? Who’s with me on this one?

Sex In The Non-City

Love was in the air this weekend. No, not for me (ha ha that sure would be funny though, wouldn’t it?) but at Radnor Lake. The critters were out in abundance on a gorgeous Saturday morning as the Penthouse Pets embarked on our looooong hike (thank you Emmy Sue for thoroughly kicking my butt). We saw a Ginormouus Snapping Turtle (“offspring, Jellyman; Jellyman, offspring.”), a bunch of smaller turtles basking in the sun along the banks of the lake (“Turrrrrtle. Turrrrtle. Am I not turtley enough for your turtle club?”), pink, purple, and white flowers covering the hills, and even heard frogs sounding their mating calls. On our final strectch back though we were able to witness 2 snakes mating on the side of the path. There was a park ranger there to point it out to passer-by-ers such as ourselves, so it was a pretty interesting thing to witness. The female snake was partially under a log and was “on bottom” while the male snake coiled himself around her. We decided they were Missionary Snakes, and had a chuckle while marveling at the wonder of God’s creation.

While on the car ride home Rhonda Lu blurted out a now-classic Penthouse Quote when asked if she didn’t realize that the reason I would be able to go bowling with them that night was because I didn’t have shows all weekend. “I don’t think very much” she exclaimed. There you have it folks.

That night me, Em, Rhonda, Mary Anna, and Karla went to El Arroyo to cross off one more restaurant on our Places To Eat list. I must say, the free (cheese) queso was yummy, but not worth the drive, the shady beef (gristle) or the terrible service. I think Rhonda was satisfied (esp with the margaritas) but Em and I won’t be going back any time soon. But since we were so far out (this place was off I-24 near Starwood) and Emily was driving, we opted to go bowling out in Smyrna (Read: Smer-na, not Suh-mer-na). Of course it would just happen to be the Youth Bowling championships that night, and there was like a 2 hour wait, so we ended up starting a trend in the downstairs room at Melrose (the best bowling alley in Nashville) and had a grand old time. Rhonda won her first game of bowling ever, Em and Karla stayed neck and neck, and the 3 of us who are bowling-ly challenged- me, Lana, who met us there, and Mary Anna, encouraged one-another. AND, it was my first ever time to cyber bowl, so that was exciting.

The Easter Bunny came and went, and brought me lots of pink in my Easter basket, plus several small bags of Cadbury Mini-eggs (my new favorite Easter candy). What I really wish the Easter Bunny had brought me however, was a trip to the final four for UK. As most of you know by now, the Wildcats lost to Mich State in a double-overtime game yesterday, and their season is now over. Senior Chuck Hayes will be greatly missed next year. Coldplay is in the cd player and I am sufficiently bummed out. Although Coldplay is a step up on the depressing music level, because last year after our shocking second-round loss to UAB it was Radiohead in the car for several weeks. Every Cats fan will agree though: next year is our year. Till then, baseball starts in a few weeks so we can keep up with Cinci and Florida to occupy ourselves for a while. It’s always something, isn’t it? A Happy Dreary Monday to you all.

Holy Thursday and the ridiculous crap of Tweeners

Bible study last night proved to be full of powerful teaching from John Eldredge’s book "Waking the Dead," and laughter from the group of 9 of us that were there. First of all, we came up with a new phrase. Instead of WWJD, we will now say, WDJG? Or Where Did Jesus Go? This is to remind us that Jesus’ story does not end at the cross. He is risen and alive, and this is the good news of our faith. Eldredge brought up the point that for the first 400 years after Jesus’ death, the cross did not appear in any Christian art whatsoever, but now the cross has become synonymous with Christianity. So we girls decided to take back the true meaning of our faith and instead of wearing crosses around our necks, that we would wear rocks. These would symbolize the rock that was rolled away from Jesus’ empty tomb, thereby promting the phrase, WDJG? (Buehler?… Buehler?)

Also, to confirm another Boys Are Dumb moment, Katy was telling us about a discussion she overheard between some male co-workers. They were describing some girls as being hot, but too hot, and therefore not attainable. Then others they described as “Tweeners.” The example they gave was Leann Rymes. “Some days she looks smokin’ and other days she looks like a horse.” So she’s a Tweener. Tweeners are apparently more attainable, and therefore worthy of these men’s affection. Are you kidding me?? There is such a thing as a girl being too hot? Is that the same thing as guys saying some women are too confident, too put-together, and ultimately too good for you? Is this really what you men are thinking, or are they just the excuses you tell us. Remember, I have read the book "He’s Just Not That Into You," so males, if you’re just not interested then say so- don’t blame it on me being out of your league and giving me the whole, “you will find someone else who deserves you so much more than I do” crap. If I wanted someone else I’d find someone else. I want you. Now either be the person I need you to be or get packin, but don’t give me pitiful excuses along the way.

So as a female I need to know if there is really such a thing, and I beg the question, how hot is too hot?

Today by the way, is Holy Thursday. Take a moment today (perhaps during your dinner tonight) to remember why we celebrate this day.

Godspell Gone Wrong

So the plans changed and I went to see Godspell last night with Thomas at the Boilerroom. I knew nothing about the show, save what I researched online yesterday: It was written by Steven Schwartz (the same guy who wrote Wicked, Pippin, and other shows that I am curious to see/hear) (yes, I was CUR-ious!!!), the show is based on the gospel of Matthew, and is set at an amusement park. The production is very free form, meaning that each director has a lot of leeway with the set, costumes, and how the cast plays their parts, enabling them to add current jokes that the audience would get, and play on their strengths as comedic actors.

This particular cast was hilarious, but almost too-overbearing in their numerous add-libbed one-liners so that sometimes the story was lost, even for someone like me who was familiar with all of the stories they were portraying. A person who did not immediately recognize the Biblical teachings would have an even harder time following along at some points.

The majority of the show is Jesus teaching various parables and then the other actors acting them out. This production even used a finger puppet show to tell the story of the Good Samaritan, and the parable of the seed and the sewer with the cast pretending to be seeds, rocks, and weeds was particularly funny. Also the story of the prodigal son was heightened with the use of various accents to the characters of the father, sons, and servants.

For the crucifixion Judas strapped Jesus onto a big carnival wheel, and spun him around while a strobe light added dramatic effect. This scene was very powerful, as I had wondered how they would approach the passion in an amusement park setting. However, the biggest shock came at the end of the show, with Jesus’ death. The cast carried him off, and then moments later they all ran onstage for their curtain call. I sat there stunned.
"What?? There’s no resurrection?!" I said incredulously to Thomas. "How can you have a production about Jesus and leave him dead? The resurrection is what makes Jesus, Jesus!"
All of a sudden what I had felt was a great ministry tool, and so appropriate to do at this time of Easter, I felt had been cheapened to a secular, worldy view of Jesus being a nice man, and a good teacher.

Mike has preached on this before though. You can’t say that Jesus was a good teacher but not the son of God or the Messiah like he claimed to be. Because then Jesus would be a liar, and what good teacher lies to his students? Godspell ended where I feel it should have began. I talked with one of my friends afterwards who was in the show and she said that in some productions they opt to do a reprise of one of the songs, and bring Jesus back on, but I am still disturbed that this wasn’t written in the show to begin with.

So other than the upsetting ending, I liked the show. I am eagerly anticipating learning more of Steven Schwartz’s music, as he has become one of the most prolific composers of musical theater in the past few decades. As a self-proclaimed theater nerd (or just a nerd in general- take your pick) I have really slacked off on my knowledge of current hits and composers, so we’re presently trying to rectify that. We're also trying to sell choral music to churches and bookstores. It's difficult living this double life sometimes!

Happy Spy Wednesday- the REAL name for today's Holy Day leading up to Easter.

Smoothsday Tuesday

Smoothsday Tuesday! That’s the word for today. I wish I had a better story about how the second day of Holy week came to be known as Smoothsday Tuesday, but alas, I am at a loss. I think it came about because there is no other word that rhymes with Tuesday, and we needed a name for the day. However, every time I think of Smoothsday Tuesday, it brings to mind fond memories of the morning after my senior prom. I know- totally random. But for prom that year I had several people spend the night at my house and Mom cooked breakfast for us that next morning. She made this one cream cheese breakfast casserole dish in particular that my friend Sam named “Super-Smooth-Easy-Cruise.” Sam, by the way was the runner up for most individualistic in my class for the senior superlatives. What was so funny is that he actually always Tried to be an individual by saying things for shock value, and wearing ridiculous outfits to school. The kid who actually won for most individualistic mumbled when he talked, and told people that he had an antenna under his hair and was actually from the planet Venus. He was also a drama geek, bless his heart. (What IS it with those obnoxious drama kids anyways??) So anyways… forgive the jumping all over the place today but I need to vent a moment. I have had a Destiny’s Child lyric in my head since a late-night phone conversation last night that says, “I’m not gonna dis you on the Internet, cause my momma taught me better than that.” This was prompted by a thoughtless comment that made me want to broadcast this idiocy for all to read and sympathize with my injustice. But alas, I will do the classy thing and only mention this in passing so as not to smear anyone’s name in the mud. But darn it, I feel better already having alluded to the nasty remark. So take that, person who doesn’t think before they speak!!

Now, onward Christian soldiers! It is time for me to call my churches and bookstores and do fun sales things like that. Lunch with Holt this afternoon. Later tonight me and Tommy D are having dinner and seeing Hotel Rwanda finally. If Thomas says it was the best movie he saw all year long, then it is definitely a must-see. He’s always my ultimate movie critic and I hope to study under him and pass on any film or theater knowledge I gain. (There’s your shout-out Thomas…. Now figure out how to post comments and return any phone calls that may come to your phone from mine. PS- and I quote: “leaving on Friday. I probably didn’t mention that it was great seeing you.” I TOLD you I wasn’t crazy!!)

Fecunday Monday

Happy Fecunday Monday!! That’s right people, it’s Holy Week- the defining week for Christians, leading up to Easter. Now I don’t mean to be trite or take lightly what this week truly means for believers, but as always, there is a story to be told as to why today is called Fecunday Monday. It all started my senior year in high school (cue misty haze which then clears to reveal Brentwood High School and an 18 year old Amanda) in my AP English class where it was all the smart kids and me. Somehow the word fecundity came up in a class discussion (how do these things ever come up anyways?). As it turns out, fecundity is a noun meaning:

1: the intellectual fruitfulness of a creative imagination [syn: fruitfulness] 2: the state of being fertile; capable of producing offspring [syn: fertility] 3: the quality of something that causes or assists healthy growth [syn: fruitfulness]

So the smart kids got to show off their extensive vocabulary, and Amanda got to learn a new word that day (we all know how fond of the English language I am, so I was excited!) So just for fun the rest of that year we used fecundity, fecund, and fecundaliscious in class as much as possible.

Fast forward to Holy Week 1999- the week before Easter. Growing up with one side of my family being Catholic, I knew that certain days of this week had special names… Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, but I didn’t know what Monday and Tuesday were called. Well she didn’t know either, so I therefore decided that the Monday before Easter would forever be dubbed Fecunday Monday. Tune in tomorrow for Tuesday’s specially-named day.

How Sweet It Is

So who else’s brackets are shot to Hades??? (Raising my hand high in the air) But that’s why it’s called March Madness, baby; So that little no-name Cinderella teams like Bucknell and Vermont can move forward in the Big Dance while crybabies Syracuse and Uconn, both in the final game last year, can go back to their snooty Eastern schools. Meanwhile the Kentucky Wildcats can continue on in their quest for yet another national title (You Bet Your Sweet 16 @ss they are!!!). But I’m not gloating or anything.

Luck of the Irish

Let the madness begin! At precisely 11:20 am central standard time the University of Kentucky Wildcats help kick off the beginning of March Madness. It also happens to be St. Patty’s Day, so make sure if you are of legal drinking age you consume a green beer for me tonight. (The self-imposed drinking ban continues as the show opens tomorrow night and alcohol dries out your vocals chords) (That music score is a beast so I don’t want to take any chances!) (Plus one beer is just wasted calories.) By the way, you know what works as a great cure-all? Green Beer. This started last year at out St Patty’s Day celebration at Bailey’s on Broadway. For example:

Amanda: Hey Ari, I’m really bummed out about my love life.
Ari: Oh really? Well you know what’ll help that?
(In unison): Green Beer!

Rhonda: Yall, I am really stressed out about my big presentation at work today.
Amanda and Emily: well you know what’ll help relax you?
(All in unison): Green Beer!

George W: I’m an incompetent president, and half of my cabinet has just resigned… what can I do?
Amanda: No idea. Sorry about that one. No, okay, I guess I’ll continue to play along… Mr. W, you need some Green Beer.

So you get the idea.

Okay… imagine there was a time lapse here of about 5 hours, and now it is 2 oclock in the afternoon. Kentucky has just won (barely) (luck of the Irish I guess)… Alabama has just lost (darn that 12-5 upset!)… and now it’s time for me to learn how to use my phone and get crackin’ on my sales. How very exciting for me. I will be selling choral music to the sweet people of Alabama and those in Washington State. Guess I shouldn’t bring up basketball to my Alabama customers this afternoon, huh?

Alrighty then… go do whatever it is you do. I will be checking live updated ncaa scores online and attempting to start doing my job on my own (pretending he’s beside me… all alone, I walk with him till morning…) 10 points for anyone besides Ari who can tell me what that is from!

march madness

it's officially begun.. the time of the year when all basketball fanatics become absolutely useless in their jobs, in their plays, in their lives... basketball becomes all-consuming. well, okay, maybe not to that extreme, but this Thursday Does begin the ncaa tournament. I am sad to say that while my Cats are an extremely talented team, they are just not consistant enough for me to pick them going all the way this year (Patrick Sparks, I'm talking to you!). Go to the above link to get all the latest and greatest info and updates on the tournament and fill out your brackets. Let the fun begin.

Also speaking of fun and new beginnings, the job is going great... my internet and email are now working. And of course that's the mark of a good job right??? Also I am getting excited about making my Cubie a pink respite from the craziness of work. How fun is the word Cubie by the way? I think it's such a nice alternative to describe a work space which is inherently impersonal and generic. But I have a running list of things I need to bring and/or buy to make my space my own. Look out Brentwood Benson- the pink parade is coming! Happy Tuesday everyone.

oh where, oh where has my little blog gone

.... oh where, oh where can it beeeee???

Ha ha- you thought I was gone forever. Never fear, for this DIVA, armed with her new job and an expensive antibiotic (what happened to the days where mom and dad paid for medicine and you had no idea how much it cost??) has returned to you in cheery spirits. Things are going well at Brentwood Benson, life of course is not slowing down, the show opens next week and I have scarcely a second to spare! Hence the lack of blogging. The dial-up internet at ye olde apartment is a lesson in patience that I am not willing to fail at this point in time, so I am here at Chateau Bradley taking precious moments to say hello and spread some of that giddy sunshine and new job cheer! I am getting paid to hang out with fun people and listen to music. Yesterday I had a conversation with a girl about URSHER. I smiled on the inside. It just definitely proves I was at the Bone and Joint clinic for too long, that's for dang sure.

The Madness has begun people- March Madness that is. Oh yes, the SEC tournament is well under way and NCAA is approaching. Who else thinks Digger Phelps is an idiot for his fact or fiction segment on sports center yesterday? Who doesn't even know who digger Phelps is? raise your hands. ok, good. now raise your hands if you have ever been stung by a jellyfish. Have you ever seen those little random poll-the-audience questions they have playing before a movie sometimes? That one actually says "Clap your hands if you've been stung by a jellyfish, but of course we are on computers here and I would not be able to hear you clapping. How silly would THAT be?

Have a great day, and thanks for stopping by. I'm Amanda Bradley??

Martha Focker

I know what you're thinking. This should be a joyous day- it's my last ever at the Bone & Joint Clinic. The sun is shining and it is an absolutely gorgeous day here in Franklin, TN. But still, I have these nagging feelings that have put me in the crummiest mood. I didn't get to see Dave Barnes play last night in the Boro, because I thought that I wouldn't cancel Bible study and just see him in 2 weeks when he plays at Exit/In. Well stupid funny man Barnes has decided to change nights at Exit/In and is now playing that Friday night instead of Wednesday. This is fine for anyone who doesn't have Opening Night of their show that same night. Then there was a ticket mix-up with Marc Broussard tonight so I'm not going to see him either. Several relationships in my life are strained right now, which makes me think it must be me since I'm the one with all the problems. Switching jobs on Monday while exciting is going to be hard- change is never easy. I just realized Kentucky is playing on Sunday at 11, which means that I can't go to both church and Sunday School, and as much as I miss Sunday School, it's Kentucky's last game and it's against Florida. Then I also have rehearsal at 1pm that day, meaning I'll either miss the end of the game (not happening) or else be late to rehearsal. I figure I don't enter till the end of the 7th number- they won't miss me too terribly much- I'm only the lead, right? And on top of everything else, for a fleeting moment I thought I was going to get to see James tonight and tomorrow and now due to cirumstances out of either of our control, that's not going to happen either.

Wow. I just re-read what I wrote and you'd think the sky was falling or something. I guess I can appreciate the fact that while yes, maybe life is crappy right now, things are really not that bad. The drama queen in me sees things for being bigger deals than they are. The stubborness in me will not allow me to let those things go, and the Little Bear is just enjoying being grumpy I guess.

Cats and More Cats

Tonight the University of Kentucky will play their last home game at Rupp tonight. It’s senior night, and I’m so sad I can’t be there. It was senior night 2 years ago that I sang at, and attended my last home ball game. Now That is depressing- to have not been to Rupp in 2 years… but I got some mighty fine barbecue. We take on the Vols tonight, and like I said earlier in the season, it has taken me a long time to be able to actually cheer for Kentucky and against UT, and not just be happy to see either team win, but I’m finally there. We don’t lose on senior night though, so there’s little to worry about. Anyone who wants to read a tear-jerker article can see this one on senior Chuck Hayes or this one on our other senior, Josh Carrier. Or maybe it's just me and I’m extremely emotional today, or maybe it was just the Mexican food from lunch rearing its ugly head.

Ari’s off to Reno for a few days. ("So unless we want to do this job in Reno, we’re in Barney…. Barney Rubble… Trouble." So yeah, I really need to see Hotel Rwanda because until then all I can think of is Basher from Ocean’s 11 when I see Don Cheadle!!) This means that her cat Kiki (Dee) (Don’t go breakin’ my heart) and I will get to spend some quality time together. We all know I am not extremely fond of cats. And cats are not extremely fond of me. But for Kiki I will sacrifice.

Ok, so yeah. Go Cats. We’ve just clinched our 43rd SEC title. We should have a Number One seed in the tourney… March Madness, here we come Baby!

So much to do, so little time

That’s my life in a sentence. The show opens in a little over 2 weeks. I’m not off book completely. I don’t feel 100 percent great vocally. (But I never will). So much to do, so little time.

I am over 2 years behind on my scrapbooks and putting pictures into albums. Whatever happened to Christmas and Summer and Spring breaks to get these things done? So much to do, so little time.

Spring and Summer are approaching fast. We girls know this means cute tank tops and flip-flops (yea!) but it also means swimsuits. Time to start the daily Pilates back up. So much to do, so little time.

My last day at the Bone & Joint Clinic is Thursday. (Praise the Lord and pass the amunition) I spent a good bit of my afternoon going through emails I had saved in my work inbox, reliving the drama that is my life, and laughing at the visual progression of the SOGWEAW emails and friendships, forwarding the good ones to my yahoo address. I have so many loose ends to tie up here, so much crap to bring home, and 2 days to get it all done. So much to do, so little time.

I still have all these questions for God regarding my faith. My quiet times are not happening. But I put that stuff off because I have for all eternity to get that stuff straightened out, for goodness sakes. This other stuff is important Now. Except that we are not ever promised tomorrow and Jesus said to be ready to give an answer at any day or any hour. So much to do, so little time.

I thrive on staying busy- I have since at least high school, maybe before that. Mom says I’m too popular. My roommates who never see me don’t know how I do it, and tell me I need to learn to say no. But if I say no, then I miss out on things I want to do! Because it’s not like I fill my time up doing things I hate. I can’t help it if the world is my playground and I want to take my God-given talents and desires and experience it all! Everyone is on my case for not getting enough sleep- I’ve been sick for almost 2 months, which is highly unlike me. I think I am getting to that inevitable breaking point though where I can’t take it any more and need a few days off to myself. I’m taking Friday off to rest and relax (and maybe scrapbook!) so that I will be able to start my new job on Monday fresh and rejuvenated. Trust me. This weekend will be Nothing like the last. And soon enough I will have my weeknights free for the most part with Pirates running on the weekend. Until then though, there is so much to do, and so little time.