Dazed and confused

What day is it? I think I completely missed St. Patrick's Day. Not that that's a big holiday for me. I was always irritated in elementary school when I forgot to wear green and got pinched. Who thought that one up? Did St. Patrick really decree that everyone should wear green and go around pinching each other? It got really irritating when I grew up and people still did the pinching thing at the office. Seriously. Can we please act like adults? Besides, I bruise easily.

March 17 is more remembered in my family for my Grandpa Metz, who passed away last fall. It was his birthday. I think there might have been a little Irish in him, but he was mostly of German descent. I still catch myself thinking I need to go visit, but then startle with the realization that that entire generation is now gone.

I think today is Thursday. Can anyone confirm that?

Tessa is home for Spring Break, much to her disgust, since ALL her friends went somewhere fabulous for the week. Probably kind of like how ALL her friends had Furbies, or ALL her friends got new cars when they turned sixteen. But I'm enjoying having her home. She sweet talked her Daddy into going to rent a movie last night and we watched Australia, which is a movie of epic proportions. I thought we were done when Hugh Jackman and that woman whho is actually from Australia - you know, the one who used to be married to that guy who likes to jump on couches. I'm telling you, my brain is fried. Nicole Kidman. That's it. Anyway, when Hugh Jackman and Nicole Kidman finally got together and it looked like there was going to be a happily every after ending, that was the start of a whole 'nother movie!

Anyway, I'm thinking it's Thursday, which means it's not Saturday, and I still need to go to work. Maybe a Starbucks will bring me into the present. Sounds like as good a reason as any to spend $5 on a cup of coffee.

Cari's Infinite Playlist

Right now I'm listening to Nora Jones sing Come Away With Me on Pandora and that song and her voice never fail to take me back to a bittersweet time in my life. I'm instantly transported to an airplane. It's dark enough to hide the tears dripping off my chin and the hum of the engines is loud enough to drown out my quiet sobs. It's the first time I've heard Norah Jones and her voice is hauntingly beautiful and deeply moving. But that voice just deepens the sorrow of having said good-bye to my precious 16-year-old Angela. Mark, Tessa and I are flying off to live in South Africa, and we've turned Angela over to four sets of loving parents who have vowed to watch over, protect and provide for her while she finishes her senior year in high school.

For me, music can instantly transport.

Any time I hear Fly Like An Eagle (Steve Miller Band) I'm back in high school in the only art class I ever took. I loved that class. Conservative little me, my friend Dan, and a bunch of potheads. Good times.

Anything Elton John from the 70's - Bennie and the Jets, Rocket Man - and I'm on the bus with my youth group, trying to ignore the couple making out in the seats across the isle.

Down to the Moon by Andreas Vollenwieder - I'm resting on a couch with my walkman, belly huge, counting minutes between contractions a few hours before Angela made her debut.

Raffi singing Mary Wore Her Red Dress and I'm in the Caravan, driving toddler and pre-schooler to play dates and gymnastics. Does anyone listen to Raffi any more?

1990s Techno music - I'm in a taxi in Bulgaria, careening down the trolley track praying a trolley is not around the next curve.

You get the point. Like most of us, I can trace the path of my life through music. Even more interesting is the way in which that music was delivered. Radio, records, cassettes, 8-tracks, CDs, MP3 players, iPod, Pandora.

Have you seen the movie Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist? Is it just me or does it seem like a modern day version of American Graffiti? Watch both and tell me if you don't see the similarities. Love both movies.

I think that's a good metaphor for my life - Cari's Infinite Playlist. Keep the good songs coming!

Sanity is not all it's cracked up to be

You know the definition of insanity, right? The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Supposedly Einstein said that. All the pithy little quotes seem to be attributed to either Einstein or Abraham Lincoln. Did they really have time to sit around thinking up pithy little quotes and writing them down so future generations could google them? Maybe they did. Maybe I'm just way past cynical.

Another blogger reminded me of what Craig Groeschel said on Sunday.

If you want what you once had, do what you once did.

He was applying it to relationships, but I think it works well in many areas of life. Also the antithesis of that thought, which is:

If you want what you've never had, do what you've never done.

I'm going to have to think about those for a while. I can come up with many, many examples of doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. Truthfully, if I want what I once had, or what I've never had, I would have to pause long enough to think thoughts deeper than whether The Bachelor will choose Molly or Melissa, or if I should paint the kitchen walls off white or pale blue, or if my house will ever be fully clean again. I'm going to have to work on that.

Because I have nothing better to do

Tessa and I went to get haircuts today. While waiting for Tessa to come back from the shampoo bowl with Jamie, our hair person, I was shooed off the waxing table where I had been perched. Some poor young guy was being tricked into getting a few areas waxed. I say tricked because he was being assured - ASSURED - it wouldn't hurt. I'm guessing it was his slightly older sister who was leading him to slaughter. The stylist whips out two Popsicle sticks with balls of steaming wax on the tips and stuffs them up the guy's nostrils, then squeezes his nose shut just to make sure no hair escapes the holocaust. Then rip, scream, rip. It was all over. I tried to look away. I really did. But it was impossible not to watch the assault. Wonder what he ever did to his sister. I only have four words for that poor dude - Electric.nose.hair.trimmer.

Later we meet up with some of the female family members to see Twilight. We've all read the books but are apprehensive about the movie. The previews drone on, the music starts, and Edward Cullen appears on the big screen. The theater erupts with screams from a small group of pre-teens. Seriously, I nearly wet myself. Did we really come to a movie where 12-year-olds scream at the leading man-boy? Wow. I apparently need to upgrade my reading/movie list. I remind myself that my grandfather, who had two earned doctorates and a couple of master's degrees thrown in, loved to read westerns. So maybe it's ok if I entertain myself with books about hottie vampires.

Oh, and I brought the leftover popcorn home from the theater. At 25 cents per kernel, I'm not about to drop it in the trashcan. I'm determined to get my money's worth!

Random Thanksgiving thought: Everything you need you probably already have.