*I think I caught a scaled down version of "the" cold AND another eye infection. This is four, now in about a month. In case you are counting like I am. Ick.
*My new camera is fancy. It's been awhile since I've done fancy. I'm excited.
*I sometimes forget the crazy that can happen on message boards and am constantly surprised that I still get surprised by it. Just...a whole lotta crazy.
*Paul Weller is back in the states in April. Quick trip to San Francisco for the concert? I'm thinking maybe...
*I had my first knitting lesson this week. I sincerely hope I get better. Nothing makes me feel stupid quicker than learning a craft!
*Ring of the week: My lovely birthday present from my fabulous girlfriends (I'm too lazy to take a real pic!). I've loved it since Sharon got one and now I have my own. Yay! Thanks, girls!
When I was in college, I made No Bake Cookies all the time. Simple, quick sugar fix that I always had the ingredients for. I was pretty decent at them as well. I mean, really. How hard are no bake cookies? (HA!) Sometime after Isaac and I got married I started making them again. The first few times were fine; normal. Then a few years ago they were dry. And getting worse. I suddenly couldn't make them anymore. I dropped the amount of oats, I perfected the 'cooking' time, I tried everything. Every time, though, it was like granola with a hint of chocolate. Isaac would make them and they were perfect and soft. Me? Dry and gross. I gave up (because that's what I do...). Monday I had a craving and gave it another shot. Nope. Dry. Gross. Can't do it. What Sammy thought of my effort: Isaac trying a second batch to save me (or just prove me wrong!): Helping Daddy find the cocoa: Helping Daddy with the cookies: Eating peanut butter because the cookies looked "chocolatey" and HEAVEN forbid we eat those! Isaac's were fine. We ate them all. Clearly the no bake cookie part of my brain is out to fail me. Sad...
And now, a bonus of Sammy. Snow play from yesterday:
My book for February was Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield. I started it sometime last week and got about a chapter in before I had to put it down to play nurse. After I got the sickos in bed last night, I picked it up again and read it straight through. Rare are the books where that happen. It spoke to me, being one who can chronicle their life by Mix Tapes. As he told his love story, I was transported back to freshman year of college, being led by notes to the library's bank of tape recorders where one final note simply said, "I love you...press play". I thought of making tapes for road trips or the ones my sister made for me, increasing my longing for college and mystical dance clubs that played Scritti Politti. Making the perfect mix for my best friend the night I declared my love. I thought a lot about my ex and how our relationship found its footing in music. I thought of Isaac and my wedding, and before, sitting in my sister's kitchen, finding just the right music to play for the reception. I thought of bringing Sammy home from the hospital and those first quiet nights. Snow Patrol's Chasing Cars will always remind me of that.
Love is a Mix Tape is Rob's (Rob, because after reading it you feel you can be on a first name basis with him) love story with his wife. When I chose it, I didn't know it was about his wife, nor that she had died. Clearly, if I had taken the time to read the back of the book or the Amazon "about this book" I would have known, but I picked it up and started reading based on the title alone. His writing is raw and engaging and, while definitely framed with music, becomes a story you just can't stop reading. The one line that really resonated for me was when he described how he'd have to relearn how to listen to music. That some of their favorites he'd never be able to listen to again. While certainly not comparing grief, I do understand that feeling. I love New Order. I've loved New Order since high school dances with True Faith and Bizarre Love Triangle constantly in rotation. However, no one loved New Order like my ex. And for some reason, that is the one band I haven't been able to listen to since the divorce. Not Better Than Ezra. Not Barenaked Ladies (both of which would be more logical choices). But New Order. Just last week, I was throwing stuff into a playlist on my iPod and I tried putting Regret on. I couldn't do it. It still brings me great sadness.
I loved the book. I love that he writes how my mind thinks. I love that music is such a great anchor for memories and I am able to chronicle my own life in a similar way. So I thought I should start a sporadic Tawnya's Soundtrack post. I know I have a few posts in that vein already, but I want to continue with earnest now. Which brings us to 6th grade. 5th and 6th grade was all about Bon Jovi, Madonna and Wham. But this story is about Madonna and the part she played in my first serious crush on a boy.
Awkward 6th grade middle of the day cafeteria dance. Rick and I danced to Crazy For You. Shortly after that he moved and I was devastated (yes, even though he had NO idea I existed in any way other than a "Tawnya, can I borrow a pencil" sort of way). He came back in high school and I will never forget that first time I saw him again. I was heavily into Depeche Mode and skater boys by then, but I could still appreciate the fine form he brought back to the hallowed halls of high school.
Aw. First crushes. Awkward pre-teens. This songs spells that out for me every time. Here's to Rick. Wherever he may be.
