Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats

Dear Megs,

'Roid Rage!

photo via usatoday.com

I knew there was a reason I never liked that guy.

But why did he have to bring Andy Pettitte down with him?

photo via mointhe9th.mlblogs.com

He's so pretty.

Methinks it's time to break out the asterisks and strip the Yankees of their championships.

There's nothing better than overreaction to hearsay and speculation . . .

Have a great weekend!

love, molly

previous post title source: "Rice, Rice Baby," Weird Al Yankovich

My plate is clean and my fortune cookie broken

Dear Megan,

Dan (my brother) just sent me a link to the greatest website ever. It's called freerice.com, and if the site is to believed, you can help feed the hungry while wasting oodles and oodles of time. It is awesome.

So, if you like playing word games to fight world hunger, make haste and click on the icon to the left.

You can thank me later.

love, molly


ps--I'd like to thank Dan for putting into motion what could be the very thing to get me fired from this place!

previous post title source: "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch," lyrics by Dr. Seuss, performed by Thurl Ravenscroft

A three decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce

Dear Megan,

So, I have to unload about something. I am feeling a bit conflicted!

The VSG (that's Vanderbilt Student Government) recently offered an Angel Tree to help provide gifts for children, and faculty and staff were invited to donate items. I sent in my email stating that I would sponsor a child and they sent an email back with the child's wishlist. It was as follows:

Shirt - size 6/6x
Pants - size 4T
Bratz doll
Workbook or book

Let's put aside for a moment the fact that the clothes I purchased had to adhere to Metro Nashville Public Schools' asinine Standard School Attire policy (click the link to see the uniform in action). Look at the third item on the list. The Bratz doll.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I find these things to be pure evil in plastic form. Look at that doll over there to the left!! Why are these things being marketed to kindergarteners? I hate these dolls with a searing, white hatred. I find them to be loathsome.

photo via bratz.com

You know all of the things that the singer says about the Grinch in that song of his, like "I wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole," or "Given the choice between the two of you, I'd take the seasick crocodile?" These are the things that I feel about the Bratz dolls. I mean, come on! They spell their plural nouns with "Z"s instead of "S"s! This is my biggest pet-peeve ever, higher on the list even than people who keep their blinkers on for several minutes after they make their lane change.

So, what was I to do? The child wanted a Bratz doll. Who am I to deny her a Merry Christmas just because I think her choice of gift resembles a "bad banana with a greasy black peel?" But it's not just that I hate them. How can I in good conscience give a child a gift that I believe is unhealthy? The dolls are hyper-sexualized (nevermind the clothes--look at those lips!) Sure, 40 is the new 30, but does 6 have to be the next 23?

Anyway, I spent a good hour in Target trying to figure out what to do. Buy the Bratz doll and feel terrible for helping to instill back-asswards views on childhood and/or sexuality; or, not buy the doll and feel terrible for denying a 6-year old her one Christmas wish? I called my mom and she told me that I absolutely could not in good conscience buy the doll and contribute to the "Girls Getting Older Younger" phenomenon. But then she thought about it for a while and she, too, said I couldn't not give the poor girl what she wanted for Christmas.

It sucks! In the end, I tracked down a Vanderbilt student that I had heard on the phone saying he was shopping for Angel Tree gifts. He thought I was insane, but I convinced him to buy the Bratz doll and I would buy one of his toys, and then we could trade back. It was the best compromise I could come up with, but I still feel sort of sick about the whole thing. What a pisser.

Hopefully, the little girl is happy with the gift.

Between this crisis of conscience and the fact that all Ella wants for Christmas is princess accessories of various sorts, I don't know what to do with myself. What is a grown-up tomboy to do?

In other news, remember how I told you about that hilarious show on WRVU, Best of Bread? Well, I finally found out who the main host is. It's this guy. He's a stand-up comedian and also a member of the Alcohol Stuntband. I have to say that I was a little disappointed to see that he's a grown-up. Every time I listened, I was so proud that Vanderbilt was able to produce such hilariously awesome people as this guy and the co-host, his brother. Now pride hath gone before my fall. It's a bit of a bummer. Show's still hilarious, though.

Finally, I must comment on the recent email string amongst our group of friends. Dan reminded us all that we must get together outside of a wedding (he did forget to include Heather in the possible upcoming weddings list [Tyson and Jake]; wonder how she felt about that?). Brett then went on to let us know that, since Jake has moved to Washington, the center of gravity has shifted to somewhere West of the Mississippi. I can't believe that possible meeting places are now being determined by the whimsy of one Jake Vermaas! These are scary times, indeed!

Alrighty, then. Gotta run. I have to get serious about shopping for princess stuff. What Ella really wants is the princess throne, to the left. I am at a loss for words.

love, molly



photo via toysrus.com

previous post title source: "Johnny B. Goode," Chuck Berry

Maybe some day your name will be in lights

Hey, Megan,

More big news from Middle Tennessee. Not only did Evan score a mention in the Sunday Times, but his CD just got nominated for a Grammy! From GRAMMY.com:

Field 25 — Album Notes

Category 90

Best Album Notes

• Actionable Offenses: Indecent Phonograph Recordings From The 1890s
  Patrick Feaster & David Giovannoni, album notes writers (Various Artists)
  [Archeophone Records]
  
  
• Classic Chu Berry Columbia And Victor Sessions
  Loren Schoenberg, album notes writer (Chu Berry)
  [Mosaic Records]
  
  
• John Work, III: Recording Black Culture
  Bruce Nemerov, album notes writer (Various Artists)
  [Spring Fed Records] <--That's Evan's CD!!
  
  
• Off The Record: The Complete 1923 Jazz Band Recordings
  David Sager, album notes writer (King Oliver's Creole Jazz Band)
  [Off The Record]
  
  
• Ricky Jay Plays Poker
  Ricky Jay, album notes writer (Various Artists)
  [Octone/Legacy Recordings]

Who knows if it will be able to compete with "Chu Berry" . . . but isn't that great? I am so proud!

And that's all I got. Dr. Mike is on his way to town as I type this. I will be sure to tell him you said hello, and I'll see if I can get some good anti-Hillary quotes for you--he's usually good for three or nine.

Have a great weekend!

love, molly

previous post title source: "Game Show," by Kelis

Your price ain't right, hold on

Dear Megs,

Well, what promised to be fun morning of watching myself on The Price is Right was not so much. They switched our air date and I missed it!! Luckily, everyone can watch it online! Click here.

It's pretty awesome. Here are a couple of screen shots, too, from the opening credits.

Dan and I



Kevin and I

SO FUN!!

Love, molly

previous post title source: "Stayin' Alive", the Bee-Gees

We can try to understand the New York Times' effect on man

Hey, Megs,

Big news here in Middle Tennessee: My friend, Evan, got a quote in the Sunday New York Times!

Click here for the article--you shan't be disappointed.

How cool is that? It was a good quote, no? I'm so proud of him! You can buy the CD here or here.

Unfortunately, that is also the only news here in Middle Tennessee.

Hope all is well in the Centennial State.

love, molly

previous post title source: "Ooh La La," Faces

Love is blind and you're far too kind

Dear Megan,

I just read this line in some liner notes for The Best of Faces: Good Boys When They're Asleep and I wanted to put it here for posterity's sake (because these words will live on forever on the interweb!). It's written by a guy named Dave Marsh, who, according to his byline, "has written about rock music in every major publication for over 30 years." What a job!

Anywhos, he's just gone through the story of the Faces, and about how the band just sort of disintegrated over a period time. He writes about what the various members did (Ronnie Wood joined the Rolling Stones, Rod Stewart became "the Bod", etc.), and finally ends with a discussion of Ronnie Lane, the bassist and one of the band's founding members (as the Small Faces).

Here's the build-up:

"Lane kept going until June 1997, when he died after a long battle with MS, but the story was not entirely over, even then. The following year, Rod Stewart released a new album, on which, after 25 years he finally got round to singing perhaps Lane's best song ever, 'Ooh La La.' [On the original recording, Ron Wood sang it.]"

He ends with: "All such tales of friendship found and lost should have endings so bittersweet."

How great is that?

I miss you, Megs!

love, molly

previous post title source: "Male Model," Sleater-Kinney

It's that je ne sais quoi, uh huh

Dear Megs,

I know you don't watch Project Runway (Megan's motto: "If it's not Law & Order, I'm not interested." Chung-chung!), but tonight's episode included the greatest criticism, ever. Courtesy of Michael Kors:

"The crotch is insane."

photo via breadandbutter.com

Yes. Yes it is.

love, molly

ps--I bet you would have enjoyed tonight's episode. They had to create an outfit for Tiki Barber. I know he's no Osi Umenyiora, but ... he does have really white teeth. Seriously, they're crazy white.

previous post title source: "Beautiful," Christina Aguilera

We are beautiful no matter what they say

Dear Megan,

As someone who is still trying to lose the weight I gained during my last pregnancy (yes, Luke is 18-months old), I found this to be particularly hilarious (from "The Hater" on The Onion's A.V. Club):

You know those old anti-smoking PSAs that said whatever you do while pregnant, your baby also does? Well, apparently Christina Aguliera's (sic) unborn baby is already covered in self-tanner.

If you put make-up, a wig, and a cropped leather jacket on a tangerine, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

(emphasis mine)

That is all.

love, molly

previous post title source: "911 is a Joke," Public Enemy

Get up, get get get down

Megs,

Here's a picture of Kevin getting carded outside the gates of the Vandy game. One of his finer moments, I assure you. He was so happy! The group got totally busted by this officer because we were passing around a bottle of Captain Morgan. The ladies at the gate gave it to one of the guys and then told us to go across the street and drink it. And then the cops came!



Frankly, I think they were profiling people with beards. Check out this motley crew:




It totally looks like the picture we took when we got back from Mardi Gras freshman year!


Good times.

love, molly

previous post title source: "Deacon Blues," Steely Dan

They got a name for the winners in the world

Dearest Megan,

That name is not "Commodores".

Oh . . . oh . . . Ohhh!!!

photo via Tennessean.com

Another Vanderbilt football season came to a close on Saturday afternoon, as yet another promising season ended with five wins and LOTS of turnovers. For those keeping track, the streak extends to 15 years without bowl eligibility. And yet so close!! We were at five wins with four games left!! Granted, it's doubtful that we would have made it to a bowl this year with only six wins (since all of the SEC--minus Ole Miss [Go Rebs!]--is eligible this year and Vandy doesn't have a very large traveling fan base). But still! Plus, we probably could even have made it to seven. We were only a touchdown back from Kentucky. We had a 16-point lead in the fourth quarter against UT. And I'm sure the team could have put something together against Wake Forest if maybe they had showed up at all.

I'm serious. I cannot recall a more heinous performance in my years of watching the 'Dores. It was awful. Everything about it was just depressing. I can't even explain it, really. It was just ... gray.

Anywhos, I am sorry to note that my purchasing of season tickets had no bearing upon the team's success. I am also sorry that I so readily drowned my sorrows on Saturday night with cheap beer and whiskey that was confiscated at the gates of the stadium (I no longer have a little Captain in me, I assure you). As I considered the state of things on Sunday morning, it was probably a good thing that this was the last game of the season.

Hope y'all had a Happy Thanksgiving. Ours was fine--a quick trip to Starkville and back, all on Thursday. No fried turkey this year, but I'd been missing the baked kind anyway. Plus, I'll forgive a lot of things if there's green bean casserole on the table.

Have a good one!

love, molly

previous post title source: "You'll Never Walk Alone," Rodgers and Hammerstein (anthem of Liverpool Football Club, it's what the crowd is singing in the background of Pink Floyd's "Fearless")

Though your dreams be tossed and blown . . . walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart

Hey, Megs.

A little outside reading for this post, with commentary after the column. This is from a column called "Suburban Turmoil", featured each week in the Nashville Scene. This week, the author (Lindsay Ferrier) talks about her daughter's soccer team, which is coached by her husband, a newscaster for our local NBC affiliate.

How Soccer Parents Get Their Kicks

by Lindsay Ferrier

“I’m sick of watching this!” a man is yelling from the sidelines at my husband, who’s coaching a game out on the field. “Win at any cost, eh? That girl shouldn’t be playing!”

I look over at the heckler in disbelief as he continues his rant, waving a go-cup of coffee for emphasis. All around him, parents are staring. “Shut up!” one father yells. The girl the heckler’s referring to is all of 5 years old, playing soccer for the second time in her life. She looks at the man uncertainly and then over at her mom, frowning. I can feel my head beginning to explode.

Welcome to the world of preschool soccer.

When we signed up my 3-year-old daughter for the under-6 soccer league, I imagined I was giving her a chance to get some exercise and learn about teamwork while I got in some gossip time with my friends on the sidelines. I was wrong.

“Get your head in the game!” a father shouts at his little girl during one match-up as she wanders aimlessly around the field. “Focus on the ball!” a mother screams repeatedly at another game, in what seems like a total waste of a strain on her vocal chords. I mean, how many 3-year-olds even understand what “focus” means?

“We are here to play!” I overhear a mom hiss more than once through gritted teeth, jerking up a preschooler who (yet again) has collapsed in tears on the sidelines behind me. Several times, I’ve tried smiling at parents on the other team, only to be met with scowls in return. Fraternizing with the enemy—even in a league where the only criterion to play is that your kid has to be out of diapers—is apparently not allowed.

We receive an email forwarded to us from a friend. Sent by The Heckler to the league officials and all of the other parents on his team, he accuses my husband of recruiting our assigned 5-year-old team member as a “ringer.” He has included my husband’s online work bio, which mentions that Hubs has coached girls’ soccer for seven seasons. From that, The Heckler has concluded that Hubs “has obviously been around the block a few times” and “knows every trick in the book.” We laugh, imagining Hubs casing preschool playgrounds for a mini-Mia, but honestly, the email is unsettling. When I guest-coach a game a few weeks later, our 5-year-old player eyes the sidelines warily. “I’m glad that man isn’t here to make me feel bad again,” she confides to me. I feel the tiniest crack begin to inch its way across my heart.

What is it about soccer for the small set that makes parents lose their minds? For answers, I check in with Dr. Gregg Steinberg, a professor of sport psychology at Austin Peay, who recently wrote a book called Flying Lessons (myflyinglessons.com), about teaching children to respond like champions in every aspect of their lives. What he has to say about my experiences on the preschool soccer field makes sense. “Parents live vicariously through their children, regardless of age,” he explains. “Their children are a reflection of themselves, and parents are protecting their ego. That makes everyone act crazy.”

I think about the mom I saw at the last game. A former soccer player herself, she clearly had been working with her 3-year-old, who scored one goal after another. I looked over at her as she watched her daughter, expecting to see her face aglow with pride. Instead, her brow was knitted, her mouth turned into a frown as she whispered fiercely to herself, completely oblivious to anyone or anything except for her child out on the field.

It’s not like I’m some kind of soccer mom saint, either. I spent the first few games humiliated after my own daughter refused to go out on the field for more than five minutes, opting instead to play ring-around-the-rosie on the sidelines or sit in my lap. I tried bribes and threats and even made excuses for my daughter to the other parents. It became clear to me after a couple of games that I needed a figurative slap across the face. All I was doing was giving my daughter a chance to experience soccer for herself. What she decided to do with that opportunity had to be entirely up to her. We both enjoyed ourselves a whole lot more after my little epiphany. By the end of the season, without my “help,” she was playing most of every game, occasionally even taking a break from socializing on the field to actually kick the ball. Victory!

Some of my friends have had little sympathy for my predicament, saying 3-year-olds are too young to be playing competitive soccer, anyway. Dr. Steinberg agrees. “Children need to focus on mastery until they understand morals, ethics, how to handle winning and losing,” he says. “This usually occurs around age 10 to 12.” Ten to 12? In recreational soccer, that’s the time when kids start leaving the sport—in droves.

I think I just figured out why.


Here begins Molly's commentary . . .

Okay, first off, I have no doubts that the guy described in the beginning of the column was a serious asshole. (One of Ella's classmates plays on Ferrier's team, and her mother mentioned what a jerk they had on the sideline during one game.) I would even be unsurprised if the other parents mentioned were as bad as she states, though having watched Ella for seven weeks I never saw displayed any such behavior--or anything close, for that matter. Most parents are too busy trying to slap themselves awake (9 am games) or shed the blanket of heat and humidity that has been cast upon them by the weather gods (10:30 am games, until about November).

Do these look like bitter parents who yell at their kids and live vicariously through 3- and 4-year olds?

Now, for the meat of the matter. That "5-year old" was HUGE!!!! She was a total ringer, and she totally dominated the games. I feel really sorry for her that she had to be subjected to the heckling, and the hecklers should be ashamed of themselves. But her parents need a good talking to.

Every time we went to the fields, Ella hoped that we weren't playing the Blue Goo. The second time we played them, Ella was on the verge of tears after the eighth time that the girl took the ball away from her (of course, this was when Ella was actually playing soccer and not playing ring-aound-the-rosies with her classmate on the other team [oh my God, do you think it was me yelling "focus on the ball"?!?]). And she wasn't alone. You could see the same look of defeatism on the faces of all of Ella's teammates--not to mention the girl's own teammates. Plus, the first time we played them, she was playing goalie! There are no goalies in this age group!!! And she took up a good two-thirds of the goal. I'm not exaggerating.

Yes, this was an under-6 league. But the teams were broken out into 3- and 4-year olds, and 5-year olds. The ringer had a little sister on the team and their parents just didn't want to deal with having them on separate teams. We had a girl on our team with a 5-year old sister and she played on a different team. As you do. I'm sure it was all well and good for the Ferriers to have a ringer on the team, because it wasn't their kids getting pushed around by a ginormo.

I understand that there are asshole parents out there and that there are miserable parents out there and that there are asshole, miserable parents out there trying to re-live their youth through their children. I didn't see any of it during Ella's season, but maybe I was just too busy yelling at her to focus on the ball or something. I just cannot stand the self-satisfied tone of this column.

It's just another attack on good, old-fashioned American values by the liberal media. (Did you like that? That was for you.)

I'd think about writing a letter to the editor, but they'd just print it with a title that made me look stupid. Something like, "Bitter much?" Rargh.

And that is that. I've decided that I probably won't go to the Bare Jr. concert, as much as I want to. I don't feel like hanging out at Exit/In by myself, and Evan can't come because his parents will be in town. Oh, well. I'll just have to rock out to Boo-Tay on my computer. Pisser.

Alrighty, then. Peace out. And Happy Thanksgiving! Hugs and kisses to the dogs and the 'Roni. (That's Todd-eronious.)

love, molly

previous post title source: "You Blew Me Off," Bare Jr.

You assault me ruthlessly, oh you're the best

Megan.

I just read in this week's Nashville Scene that Bare Jr. is reuniting for a show at Exit/In Friday night. And they're playing the entirety of Boo-Tay. Why am I just now finding out about this?? I went from writing a master's thesis that featured a good bit of writing on one of their members to not finding out about their reunion show until it's probably too late for me to get a babysitter? What is going on here?

Alack.

Maybe I can find a sitter on short notice. Can I miss this show? I doubt it.

Cross your fingers for me . . .

love, molly

previous post title source: "I Love L.A.," Randy Newman

Santa Monica Boulevard (We love it!)

Hey, Megs!

Long time, no blog, I know. I went out to LA and then came back to a jackload of work and then Ella got an ear infection and then I got sick and then and then and then. So, I'll have to catch you up on the haps.

LA was AWESOME!!! I love that place! It was so much fun. The last time I was out there, it was the summer after our freshman year in college. I drove cross-country with my friend, Jen, and her brother. They're both from California, so they were very down on the Angeles. We stayed out at Laguna Beach (not that that wasn't spectacular in its own right, even though the beaches have nothing on the Redneck Riviera) and only went in to LA one lame night. There was to be no lameness this time! Dan is a total Los Angeleno. He loves it and that makes me love it.

First things first, how awesome is The Price is Right? SO AWESOME!! Sure, there was no Bob Barker, but Drew Carey is a good host (and so happy!), so you don't really miss the Bob too terribly. You do miss Rod Roddy, however. The new announcer just doesn't compare. (And "new" is probably not the most appropriate term, since Mr. Roddy passed away four years ago. Maybe "relatively new"?)


Rod Roddy photo via cnn.com ; Rich Fields photo via cbs.com

I know Rod Roddy. I watched Rod Roddy for many years. And you, sir, are no Rod Roddy.

Anyway, our seats were awesome--right behind Contestant's Row. If you can't get up on stage (which we wouldn't have been able to, since we are family of a CBS employee), then sitting right behind Contestant's Row is about as good as it's gonna get. It was that good. We got escorted to our seats about ten minutes before taping started, and they had cordoned them off for us. The people behind us were amazed. "How did you get those seats?" they exclaimed. We know people, that's how. Important people.

The contestants were not too swift on our episode (airs December 6--set your TiVos!); I think maybe only one of them won a prize and one girl was on Contestant's Row the whole game. (How do I know this for sure? BECAUSE I WAS SITTING RIGHT BEHIND CONTESTANT'S ROW!!) She was from New Jersey, so she's obviously pretty dim. (Just jokes--you know I love the Garden State and all who hail from it.) If she had listened to me, she would have been up on stage like five times. But she didn't. She listened to her stupid Rutgers friends. Stupid Rutgers. I think she got a year's supply of coffee or something for her troubles. The lady that won the Showcase Showdown was within a hundred dollars of winning both showcases. Dan was very upset because he had designed the new graphics for the double-showcase win.

And yes, I was yelling the prices out. When we went backstage after the show, all of the producers were very pleased with our participation: "You guys were shouting out prices and everything!" I've only been preparing for this my whole life, people! We met the Producer, Roger, who's been with the show for thirty years or so. He told us all about the studio (it's a lot smaller than it looks like on TV--it's crazy). Did you know that that is the same stage where they filmed Match Game and The Carol Burnett Show? Me neither, until I met the producer of the Price is Right!

It was a great time. I highly recommend it. I think that we should all go out there together, because they guarantee your tickets if you have a group of ten or more. Plus, if you're from a big group that's dressed all alike (say, in black and gold), there's a good chance that someone from your group is getting on stage. Drew Carey called it the happiest place on earth, because it's the only place where you actively root for good things to happen to some stranger. It is! It was really great.

(Quick side note: I am listening to WRVU this morning because the best show ever is on. It's called "The Best of Bread" and it plays 9-11 am on Wednesdays. I highly recommend that you give it a listen if you get a chance. I'm serious when I tell you that it is the best. We just finished listening to Thin Lizzy and now we get some "Bonnie Prince" Billy Joel, and the hosts are the embodiment of hilarity. You can listen to it on your computer through the magic of the internets.)

We also got to cross the picket lines to get in to Television City. It was awesome. The picket lines were rather small. Also, I'm sure it's been said elsewhere, but for writers these guys have some lame picket signs. "WGA On Strike" does not have a ring to it.

Got to tour around Television City for a while before the show. It made sense that friends and family can't be contestants on the shows after I visited Dan's shop, where the prices were just hanging out there being made into their various colors and shapes. We saw Christian Jules LeBlanc (aka Michael Baldwin from The Young and the Restless) in the hallway outside the Y&R sets. I got to tour the Y&R sets and Dan took a surreptitious photo of me at the bar of the Genoa City Athletic Club. You can see pictures of everything below.

Thursday night we went out for delicious sushi. Friday we had delicious fish and shrimp tacos (so delicious) before we took an extended driving tour of LA that featured a pit-stop at the Getty Museum and ended with dinner on Hermosa Beach with Carol and her big little boy, James. Unfortunately, Dan's mad driving skills left Kevin car-sick in bed while Dan and I went out with all of his friends to the Big Foot Lodge. That bar was awesome, and it was so much fun there with Dan and his friends. We spent much of the evening awash in the glow of all of their iPhones, which was hilarious. Whenever anyone had a question about anything, it was like quick draw to see who could find it first on their phone's web browser. Dan's friends are great. They're his group of friends from SCAD, mostly, along with various friends and cousins that moved out there after they graduated. They're very artistic and hilarious and I pretty much love them. Ah, to be young, single, and not poor in LA!

Saturday was the epic day to end all vacation days. We drove down to Santa Monica, rented some low-rider bicycles, and rode 'em to Venice Beach. It was too fun. Saturday night we went to El Campadre, Dan's favorite Mexican restaurant, and had delicious margaritas with flaming lemons! Yummy. Anywhos, it was an awesome trip and so much fun. You know it's a good trip when you get off the plane at 10:15 am and are drinking Fat Tire at brunch by 11 am on a Thursday!

Finally, what you've been waiting for--PICTURES!!

Days 1 and 2 (before I ran out of batteries at the Getty. And by the way, the sandwich at the beginning there? It features the following: scrambled eggs, hash browns, avocado, tomatoes, and goat cheese. Like breakfasty heaven on a bun.):



Day 3 (Santa Monica ["I just wanna see some PALM TREES"] to Venice Beach via low-rider bicycles). For this one, you have to go to Dan's website: http://picasaweb.google.com/danzigner/MollyKevinInLASaturday

Alright, that's all I've got for this post. I hope you have a great Thanksgiving!

love, molly

previous post title source: "Monster Mash," Bobby "Boris" Pickett

Whatever happened to my Transylvania twist?

Happy All Saints Day, Megs! (It's a Holy Day of Obligation. Did you know that? I didn't know it until graduate school, and today I heard that the Catholic schools were out of school today! I'm quite sure that never happened when I was a child. Who is making up these crazy rules??)

Some pictures from Halloween. Ella dressed up as a pretty princess (is this really my child?!) and Luke dressed up as his father.

I can't even come up with a song quote for the title, I am THAT excited

Megs! Guess what I get to do next Thursday. As a hint, I will let you know that I will be flying in to LA at 10:15 am that day (and I will also post this picture to the left). And that afternoon? I GET TO GO TO A TAPING OF THE PRICE IS RIGHT!!!! I am not kidding you when I say this is like a lifelong dream for me. Words cannot describe my level of excitement. I am wordless. I am without words.

I will be running out tonight to get my puff paints and a bedazzler. I have a week to come up with a clever, Drew Carey-themed quote for my shirt!

That is all.

love, molly

previous post title source: "The Beast and Dragon, Adored", Spoon

When you believe they call it rock and roll

Dear Megan,

It was a good weekend around these parts. I have totally spoiled myself by going out on a Friday for the past two weekends. I don't know what I'll do now that my Friday nights have again been reduced to crying at the end of Friday Night Lights, drinking a beer all by my lonesome, and falling asleep to Sportscenter. As the late, great Warren Zevon sang, "Poor, poor, pitiful me!"

Evan and I went to see Spoon this weekend. It was a good show. We got there right before the show started, so we spent a good bit of time trying to find a decent place to stand. (This process was impeded somewhat by the third member of our party, Lane, who was walking on crutches due to a skateboarding accident. [And yes, it's true. His name is Lane. Reminds me of Pretty in Pink: "Blane? His name is Blane?!? That's a major appliance, that's not a name!" And yes, it's also true that he severely injured himself skateboarding. In the small world category, he lives on the same street as Marty Gorham and Evan's ex-girlfriend. Small world!]) There were a lot of tall people there, most of them standing in front of me (and one guy who, though not terribly tall, had a GIANT HEAD), but we finally found a place in the back where I was able to stand up on a rail to see.

I would like you to know that I had to wear a Yankees hat to the show. I lost a bet to Evan regarding the words to the "My Buddy" ad. (Having confused the words to "My Buddy" and"Kid Sister", I thought the words were "My Buddy, My Buddy, wherever I go he's gonna go!" In actuality, it is " . . . wherever I go, he goes!" Let this be a lesson to you, in case you are ever faced with a similar wager.) The bet was that whoever was wrong had to dress up like either Run or DMC. (Evan came up with that one, and how could I possibly welch on a bet that good?) I didn't have any Kangol hats to wear, so I had to go with the Yanks. The only good thing about said wager was that I got to get some kick-ass Adidas with light blue stripes. They were on clearance. The resemblance is uncanny, no?




I was going to send the hat to you, but it was really uncomfortably small. Because, as I realized yesterday, it's a child's hat. Anywhos, it was good times all around. Video below.


"The Beast and Dragon, Adored", my favorite Spoon tune.

"The Underdog", my second-favorite Spoon tune, played directly after "The Beast and Dragon, Adored". This is information about which I had advanced knowledge because I was able to check out the set-list from my perch in the back.



Ella had a soccer game on Saturday and kicked ass again. Most of her teammates got in on the action, too, so that was fun for everyone. The sucky part of the whole business was that the league decided that it was "Silent Soccer Saturday", so we couldn't cheer. It was the dumbest thing that I have ever heard of. All of these parents were watching their kids score their first goals of the season and they couldn't even cheer for them? I don't think that 4-year olds really understand the regulations for Silent Soccer; they were just wondering why we didn't cheer at the appropriate times. I finally decided to hell with it. According to St. Augustine, "An unjust law is no law at all." I think the maxim holds for stupid laws, too.

After the soccer festivities, we loaded up the minivan and went to the Vandy game. The formidable opponent this week was Miami of Ohio. It was a game much like many you may recall from our days as undergraduates. Vandy was supposed to win big but still found a way (cough four turnovers cough) to keep the RedHawks in the game for much of the afternoon. We had a good time, though. Ella and Luke were able to join us, and I could see a little of the drill sergeant coming out in Ella at times.

I spent most of Sunday watching football and exercising my dislike of the Patriots. (Seriously, I do not like those guys.) Kevin's parents came down for a couple of days, so Kevin and his pops are working on the bathroom. They're almost done with the plumbing. Not sure what comes next--floors or walls. So much mystery, so little time.

Alrighty, then. I hope you're doing well. I gotta run--I've spent so much time blogging that it's lunchtime!

love, molly

ps--RIP, Porter Wagoner. Heaven is definitely more sparkly today.

pps--Congrats to the Red Sox on their resounding World Series sweep. It was nice of A-Rod to steal their thunder by announcing he's leaving the Yankees in the fifth inning of the deciding game. What a dick. He even made Peter Gammons mad!

previous post title source: "Splish Splash", Bobby Darin. I used to LOVE that song when I was a kid. It was on those Time Life oldies tapes, along with "Rockin' Robin", "Chantilly Lace", and the like.

Rub-a-dub, just relaxin' in the tub

Hey, Megs,

Now that I've figured out how to post videos, look forward to seeing bunches and bunches! Here's Ella and Luke partying it up at bathtime:

More on the weekend festivities tomorrow, when I can waste time at work. No time for computers today--football is on.

Hope all's well with you this Sunday afternoon. Here's also hoping that the Rockies can at least avoid the sweep this evening!

love, molly

previous post title source: "Heavenly Day," Patty Griffin. If you've not heard this song, I bet you'd really like it. It makes me think of you whenever I hear it. Even more so after I heard that she wrote it about her dog.

Got nothing to tell you, I got nothing much to say

So, the title of this post is very true. I just wanted to let you know yet another reason why this job bites.

Did you ever see that episode of Friends where Joey was all depressed because he was in love with Rachel and didn't know what to do about it? There were several episodes with this subject in that story arc, but this one featured Phoebe bringing by the happiest dog in the world. Eventually, Joey bums even this happiest dog out because he is just that dang sad.

Well, as it turns out, our office is Joey (though neither as attractive nor endearing in its stupidity). We've had a temp here for the past year or so. Her name is Bethany, and she is about as chipper as chipper comes. And yet, today she left early because she was angry and depressed. She is like the world's happiest dog in this scenario, and Joey has finally gotten to her. Damn you, Joey!!!

Seriously, this job sucks.

love, molly

previous post title source: "Four Kicks," Kings of Leon

Four kicks who's strutting now?

Dear Megan,

How about those Commodores, huh? What a victory over South Carolina! Not only did we beat a #6-ranked team (first time in 70 years), but we also beat a Steve Spurrier-coached team (first time EVER). The old ball coach was actually even sort of gracious in victory, too. It was a day of many firsts!



Had a great time at the Kings of Leon show. (Please note: The above video is of extremely poor quality--I had to hide the camera so as not to get it confiscated by the KGB agents working security. However, I could not resist posting it because how cool is that! I made a video with my digital camera!) Evan wasn't as impressed with the show as I was. I thought it was great, but it's possible that any rocking would have made my night given the snoozefest that was the Bob Dylan show. (Seriously, how can you have Elvis Costello as a surprise opening guest and not do a little better than stand behind your keyboard for two hours? The only time he came out from behind said keyboard was when Jack White came out for "Meet Me in the Morning." I am not lying when I tell you that Jack White showed Dylan how to do it. Now, there is a man I'd not mind paying $90 to see. He knows how to rock and/or roll.)

The Kings show was tainted somewhat by these two people that Evan knows from Murfreesboro. We ran into them on the way to the Ryman (from our wicked-awesome, free spot a mere block away) and hung out with them a bit at Legends pre-show. The woman, who appears to be a good twenty years or so younger than the man, had just had a baby about two months ago, so this was her big night out. After they left Legends, Evan and I hung out a bit longer (and I made the incredibly dumb decision to carry our open whiskey cups in my purse [which now smells, surprisingly, like the whiskey that inevitably spilled in it]). So, we're walking into the concert, and who do we see but the chick, hanging out by herself in the smoking area, bawling her eyes out! WTF? Turns out that the guy (her baby daddy, but they're not married) had told her that she was a lush and a drunk and irresponsible and slutty and all these other sorts of awful things. As it turns out, she pretty much is these things. (Not trying to justify dude's actions--he was an asshole.) She glommed onto me, though, and so I had to listed to all of these awful stories while Evan got to chat it up with the nice t-shirt lady. I was glad when that part of the night was over. It was certainly not as fun the beginning of the evening, drinking prosecco (it's not champagne!) in the car and singing along to David Bowie.

I can't believe that I am writing this, but we spent much of Saturday destroying our other bathroom. That's right, less than two weeks since we finished the master bathroom and now our second has been stripped down to the studs (and the bathtub). Here's hoping the project is completed sometime before 2009.




Sunday, we took the kids out to Nolensville to the pumpkin farm. That's always a good time. It was also good timing, as we were able to avoid having to watch the Titans nearly choke away a 17-point, fourth-quarter lead. The kids probably would have picked up a few new words for their vocabulary, the kind that I don't really want in their repertoire.





I hope all is well out there in Colorado. Saw the Rockies practicing in the snow! It should be a fun World Series, no?

love, molly


previous post title source: "Anna Begins," the Counting Crows (in honor of Counting Crow-vember)

Oh lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing

Hey, Megs,

Quick note (second post of the day--woo-hoo!). I just saw this article on espn.com. (In case you don't want to click on the link, it details the Rockies' filing trademark applications on the word "Rocktober".) Here's the best (reader) comment:

I think there's about 400 radio stations that would have a problem with this. Don't the Rockies know that radio stations' schedules are Zepptember, Rocktober and Counting Crovember? Well maybe not the last one.

Awesome. Well said, Sonicreducer151. But seriously, Rockies. Can't you do better than this? Way to choke all of the joy out of the feel-good story of the year. You have ruined Rocktober for me!

We can only hope that no one trademarks "Free Bird" Friday. "I'd like to send a free bird to my crazy-ass boss!"

later,
molly

previous post title source: "Take This Job and Shove It," Johnny Paycheck (may he rest in peace)

Now you're messing with a . . .

Dear Megan,

Son of a b**ch! I cannot believe that Vanderbilt choked that game away. I hate to sound like a whiner, but does this not happen every time we play in a big game at home? We have the game nearly in hand and then we find some way to give it right back. Rargh. I don't think that I have seen Vandy win a game at home bigger than, say, Ole Miss (and really, how hard is that these days?). Rumor has it that the two coaches (Bobby Johnson and Mark Richt) exchanged words on the field after the game regarding the Georgia players' celebration on the Vanderbilt logo (pictured). Given Bobby Johnson's well-documented aversion to cuss words, I am sure that that was a heated exchange. "Dang it, Mark! Get your dad-gum players of my gosh darn logo! Frak!"

I do have someone to blame, though, and that is the annoying chick who was sitting in front of us. She refused to stand up the entire time, and she even put her fingers in her ears when it got too loud. (Sure, the General in me came out for much of the game--gotta support the troops, Megs. But really, fingers in the ears? Are you five?) I also feel bad for the host of the tailgate party we attended. Love that guy. But he was already hurting by the time Heather and I made our way to the game; I can't imagine that he fared well through the four quarters. A picture of Heather and I during one of the happier parts of the game (and yes, we are wearing paper Commodore hats):






Other than that, we had a nice weekend with Heather and Brad and Claire and my mom in town. Ella had a good time celebrating her birthday. I think having a full house made up for not throwing a party with kids for her. At least, I'll keep telling myself until she grows up and blames any problems on the fact that I didn't have kids over for her fourth birthday. My favorite part was when she opened up her new Snoopy sno-cone machine. I had been worried that I just bought it out of my own sense of nostalgia (Snoopy sno-cone machine is the best!), but when Ella opened it she said, "Oh! It's just what I always wanted!" My heart grew three sizes that day. Ella and the B-Rad:





Oh! Guess who we saw at breakfast on Saturday! Fontaine. Do you remember her? Dan dated her briefly and she was the source of so many Eric Clapton song parodies? Yup, she was sitting right next to us at the French breakfast bistro. Bizarro.

Little else to report from this end. Hope all's well out your way.

Finally, congratulations are again in order for the Rockies: Champions of the National League. Excellent.



love, molly

previous post title source: "Rocky Mountain High," John Denver

I've seen it raining fire in the sky

Dear Megan,

First, a few words about this weekend's sporting events:

Ew. And, yay (Yanks lose, 2-1). And, boo (Yanks take game 3, 8-4). I know that the mayflies or whatever they were are harmless and do not bite. It didn't make it any less stomach-churning to see them having a party on Joba's neck. I didn't so much mind him wild-pitching in the tying run.

I do like the Joba, though. He seems like a nice fellow.



Woof. And double-woof. The 'Dores fell hard to the Tigers/War Eagles at Jordan-Hare stadium on Saturday: 35-7. Hopefully, they'll pull themselves together in time for Homecoming; otherwise, it could be an ugly night for me and the Funbar. Why they scheduled Georgia for Homecoming is beyond me. There is a reason that Georgia scheduled us last year for their Homecoming, and that is because, historically, we suck (they learned that lesson the hard way, of course, and will be hosting the Troy [State] Trojans this year). We need not prove any points by returning the favor. This is especially not the year to do so, since the 'Dawgs just lost to . . . ugh . . . Tennessee.

And . . .

The feel-good story of the year. Go Rockies! Way to take the focus off of the Broncos (the feel-ill story of the year). Also, yay for the Red Sox (I've been a fan ever since Sam Malone played for them). And a big "meh" for the Diamondbacks. I'm sure they're good kids and all, but BO-ring.

In completely unrelated news, I have determined that I am a bad mother. I waited until the last minute to schedule something for Ella's birthday party and now nothing is available! I feel like an ass.

Good news: We finished the bathroom yesterday. (!!!) Some pictures:


(NOTE: These pictures were taken at a later date and then added back to this post. That is why it does not appear to be as pristine as it was for about three hours after we finished it.)

The tiles are also on the floor. Isn't it bad-ass? I am totally enamored of this bathroom.

With that happy news, I'd better run. I'm one more alt-Tab away from getting carpal tunnel syndrome. Blogging at work is not as easy as it's cracked up to be.

love, molly

ps--


Priceless.










previous post title source: "High Enough," Damn Yankees (natch)

There's a fire in my heart

Hey, Megs,

How about them Yankees, huh? I hope that Todd's moratorium on baseball does not extend into the post-season, because I would hate for you to have missed that one. 0-for-4 for Jeter and 0-for-2 for A-Rod? Sucks to be you guys.

My favorite part of the game actually came when I couldn't see it. We went out for Japanese last night (gotta love the bento boxes), and the sushi chefs had the game on back in their workspace. I was trying to see, but some Indians fan had his big head in the way. Anywhos, said Indians fan starts talking baseball with the chefs. I figured the chefs would be Yankees fans because of Matsui, but out of nowhere the chef goes, "I hate the Yankees!" And my Rainbow Roll tasted that much sweeter. Hating the Yankees is now an international pastime!

You do have one fellow Yankee fan, though. None other than LeBron James. He grew up in Ohio! He plays for the Cleveland Cavaliers! The game was played IN CLEVELAND!! And yet, he wore a Yankees hat? Seriously? That's the best you can do?

Little other news to report. We followed up the Yanks' loss with the season premiere of 30 Rock. Love it. I used to wonder a lot why Alec Baldwin was famous. In fact, said topic was usually my go-to conversation starter during uncomfortable silences. I still don' t know how he got his big break, but the man is a comedic genius: http://youtube.com/watch?v=XyztxHV-r7o

I am excited to report that we are thisclose to being finished with our freaking bathroom. Will be installing sink and toilet on Saturday and hopefully doing the decorating on Sunday. We need the second shower because we'll have a full house for Homecoming next weekend. The 'Dores are at Auburn this weekend. Go, Vandy, Go!

love, molly

previous post title source: "Growin' Up," Bruce Springsteen

I stood stone-like at midnight

Dear Megan,

I've decided to join the ranks of our other friends who are married with children. Welcome to my blog. I will try to keep it crammed with pictures of Luke and Ella, because I know that's the good stuff you're looking for. Plus, Dan my brother just gave us his hand-me-down digital camera, so I can take plenty of pictures with the greatest of ease. Seriously, this camera kicks our old one's ass six ways from Sunday. Now, pictures of Ella will be of what I intended them to be when I pressed click, rather than of whatever it is she's doing three seconds later. I haven't shared too many digital pictures to date because most of them feature Ella either in various stages of blinking, or booking it toward me in an effort to see what her picture looks like.

I'm sure you'll recognize the source of this blog's title, as it's one of the greatest songs in the mighty Bruce Springsteen's catalog. That is, unless you're Russell, who told me once that the greatest Bruce Springsteen song ever is . . . Manfred Mann's cover of "Blinded by the Light". "Wrapped up like a douche", indeed.

For the rest of you readers, welcome! Meet Megan, my old roommate and the greatest roommate ever. So good, in fact, that she--an avid hater of all sauces tomato-based--found it in the depths of herself to forgive me for microwaving Chef Boyardee in her favorite tupperware dish. The red tint still lingers on the dish, a physical sign of my shame. (My only excuse, as a child raised in a microwave-free household, is that I was entirely unaware of the consequences of microwaving red sauce. I know that ignorance is not a valid excuse, but I can only hope that you and history will not judge my Boyardee-based transgression too harshly.) I also hope that you won't find the whole letter style too annoying; I do my best writing to Megan, as you will surely find when we publish our letters in twenty years (aka, when Megan finally gets around to sending the letter that she's been "composing" since last November).

Alrighty, then. I'm pretty exhausted from trying to block the screen from passers-by at the office. More later. Until then, you can just be happy that I didn't name this blog "Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out"!

love, molly

PS--The name of each post is a line from a song. Find out which song in the post that follows. It'll be a fun time.