Just Stopping In for a Moment

I've said it before but it bears repeating, blogging is awesome. It has become so much more than a way to practise writing. The abiding and completely unexpected gift of being a blogger is all the friends I've made. The crazy thing is that to date I have met, in person, 7 blog buddies and every single one of them was exactly who I expected them to be; no artifice or fakery. And while there might have been a little nervousness in the anticipation ("will they like me as much as I know I'm going to like them?"), all that was dispelled, every single time, the second we saw each other.

Within the hour I'll have my hatty Hat here. She's become one of my bestest friends in the world, a friendship which now has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with blogging. By week's end, we will have hugged the stuffing out of Sling. Now that we've done this "meeting blog buddies" thing, we're not even nervous. Excited, yes, but not nervous. It's Sling, for crying out loud. What you see is what you get with that man and more than anything else I'm looking forward to just hanging out with him.

I first found Sling in the comments section of one of Hat's earlier bloggy incarnations. One time she wrote something about how she wished she could take her blog friends to breakfast and in our comments, Sling and I pretended we were at breakfast with her. ("Are there more hashbrowns?" "Stop bogarting the ketchup"...like that, you know, the sort of thing we do now and again). I don't know what it was and of course, that blog is gone so the whole thing can't be properly entered into evidence but that was the turning point for me. That's when I started stalking reading Sling. And then, as is the way of our people, we started emailing. And now we are going to meet.

Once upon a time JP said something to me about how even if we never met, he considered me one of his best friends. Of course, we had every intention of meeting and, in fact, have met (and eaten Cheetoes and watched "Steel Magnolias" and other stuff friends do) but I knew what he meant. Meeting is awesome, but it actually is possible to get to know and trust someone through the ethers. Of course, the fact is, once the relationship gets to a certain point, meeting is pretty much inevitable, or at least, something that gets put on a list of "Things I'd Like to Do". But the point remains. I've considered Sling a friend, a good friend, for quite some time now. The actual meeting isn't going to be that big a deal. But I still can't wait to give him a big ol' hug and sit around eating applesauce cake and playing the guitar and laughing a bunch. Because I'm pretty sure there is going to be a whole lot of laughing.

Surprise! Wednesday Jukebox

Mouse emailed me yesterday suggesting that since we have a big feathered holiday coming up and most people will be off on Friday as well (a moment of silence for all those who work retail), perhaps we should move Jukebox Friday to Wednesday.

This tickled me because it's not actually like we have a charter or a Quorum of Nine or by laws or anything. Crikey. I played a video yesterday (breaking news story); probably gonna play one tomorrow, too (something to wow the Pilgrims). Guess it just speaks to the power of the meme. Or maybe mob mentality. Peer pressure? Or perhaps my willingness to jump on board speaks to the paucity of blog material I have at hand just at the moment. Anyway...

Here's a little number that always surprises me when I hear it. It takes a lot of courage to cover a song that a) was such a big hit and 2) an iconic one, at that. It seems to me that if you are going to do something like that, you'd better do everything you can to give it a twist and make it your own, preferably without completely obscuring the fabric that held the original together. Or, you know, completely make it into something virtually unrecognizable. But if you do that, it's not really a cover, imho.

This song completely succeeds for me. It's perkily familiar and yet the rendering of the song, both by virtue of the ska take and the outstanding vocals, make you (OK, me) hear it in a new way. Far too young and clever, indeed.

Anyway, here's a little twist-while-honoring-the-original cover tune for ya to peel yams by. (Or in my case: peel yams, make cranberry compote, supervise but not meddle while The Child makes pies. And that bathroom isn't going to clean itself).



Save Ferris "Come On, Eileen"

A Taste of Fun

We went to the Taste of Chicago tonight, primarily motivated by two forces. One, there was going to be a showcase of Broadway shows that are currently or soon to be playing in Chicago, one of which was "High School Musical". As we arrived at Millennium Park we could hear the strains of the show. The Child ran. Partly to get there in time, partly to get away from me, as I was singing along at the top of my embarrassingly maternal lungs. The other reason was this:



Yeah. That would be me and the Mouse.


It was so cool. When we got to the Park The Spouse called her and she talked us in. Then we spied each other and started crazy stoopid waving. The Spouse got to her first and she was all, "I don't care about you" and ran for me. Big silly hugs, like long lost sisters or some damn thing. (She did eventually greet The Spouse, 'cause she's nice like that). We met her charming husband, the Swiss Son and her Pre-teen and then made ourselves at home on their blankets.

Later we hooked up with the Iwanskis, too. And the funny thing was, we all pretty much sat there just talking about this and that...no big "so, tell me about yourself" stuff because, as Mouse observed, we already know so much about each other. (And that thing you've always thought about her...that she seems really funny and warm...you're right).


It was just a fun time hanging with comfortable friends, eating some pirogies and Polish dogs and chocolate covered strawberries (because we were at the Taste, after all). And after a couple of very pleasant hours, we went our separate ways. But not for long. The Mouse family is coming to our trailer trash party tomorrow.


Whoo to the hoo.


And as long as I'm finally getting my photos downloaded, here's some more unadulterated photographic proof that my blog buddies are real people:


Buck and me, Friday night at his place.

Me and the Iwanskis on Saturday night. Yes, those are tears in my eyes.

Jake and Elwood.And me, Iwanski and Mouse tonight.Dang.

For City Mouse

Sometimes it's really hard to be a mom. 'Cause your job is to let them leave. That can suck.

I ♥ you, babe.

"You'll be in My Heart"
Phil Collins