Happy Birthday to me!

I turned 28 yesterday. That sort of depresses me, but I know it shouldn't because that's still really young. Everyone has assured me that 28 is still really young. That doesn't change the fact that it depresses me. But, despite that, having such an amazing husband and family sure makes my birthday fun.

We went to the zoo! I've been wanting to go to the zoo for a whole month, ever since my 7 year old piano student's mom told me she took her kids to the zoo. So Seth, Mom, Dad, and I met my beautiful sister-in-law and her two kids at the Houston zoo. I've never been to the Houston zoo before, but I thought it was great! Much better than the Waco zoo where it takes about 30 minutes to see all the animals.

When we got there it took forever to find a parking spot. My dad tried to out drive every other person on the road to find an empty parking spot. Mom gasped and braced herself. Seth and I just sat in the backseat laughing as we watched my dad's gray curly hair flying from one side to the other as he whipped his head from side to side, looking for a spot to snag. Finally, my mom, yelled, "Well you're not going to find a parking spot going 55 miles per hour! Slow down!" She talked a little sense into him. He slowed down to 50.

Dad was a real trooper. We like to call him Gandalf The Gray. Here he is, equipped with map in hand. Already asking for directions 5 minutes into the park. Lead on, wise Gandalf!


We finally found my sister-in-law. Here's me and my sweet niece.


We saw lions and sea lions and elephants and monkeys and giraffes. My favorite was the baby elephant rolling around in the mud. And the giraffe, who looked right into the camera for me.


















Of course they all paled in comparison to the crazy elephant that broke out and went after Seth!


But don't fear, fancied friends. Seth got away just in time to sit down to a healthy and wholesome lunch of Hot Dogs and Cheetos.


Not too long after lunch and a carousel ride, we went home to rest, and then off to Michaelangelo's for the birthday dinner, which was quite yummy. Seth and I had lobster and spinach ravioli for dinner complimented by a delicious Pinot Noir, and a decadent Chocolate Mousse Cake for dessert. Very tasty and the perfect ending to a perfect day.
Thanks Mom and Dad for spending the day with us. Love you both!

My week

One week of choreography down, one to go.

When I choreograph choirs, I try to stay away from this: (Either this camera dad is the worst camera dad EVER, or he's had a bit too much Chivas Regal before the choir concert.... But if you listen carefully toward the beginning of the show, you'll hear his opinion on this priceless work of song and dance.

This is a bit long, so no need to watch the whole thing.



I go for more of this idea: (Minus the cheesy solo shots at the beginning)



OK, maybe that's stretching it a little. Especially when the conversations while choreographing go like this:

High School Male: Mrs. FancyPants, when we do the kick ball change, do we kick with our right?

Mrs. FancyPants: Yes, but when you do do the kick ball change, make sure you step back with the same foot you kick with.

High School Male: (to his friend) Huh-huh. She just said doo doo.


But you know, it could be worse. How bout, just stand there and sing while a girl struts her stuff in front of the choir! (You have to keep watching on this one.)

Herbert S. Crotch

Unfortunately, last night, Seth clicked accidentally on the words "Delete Blog" of the wrong blog, and consequently erased the very blog he wished to keep. If you've tried to get to Seth's blog but find yourself re-reading 2006 posts, that's because no one can read his 2007 posts. They're gone. Poof. Vanished. With one click of a mouse.

He's working on restoring them.

In the meantime, a fellow by the name of Herbert Sebastian Crotch has mysteriouly appeared in the blogosphere. Interesting bloke, really. A friend of Seth's that has a few things to say about the way things are. Interesting bloke, that Herb.

Favorites Game (2)

This one's for you, Cach.

Favorite vegetable.

Ready?

Go.

Preoccupied

Preoccupy: v., dominate or engross the mind of (someone) to the exclusion of other thoughts. For example:

Fancy drives to the high school, hereafter referred to as...Whatever High School (??) to choreograph her teacher friend's choir. While Fancy drives she imagines dance moves and how they will fit into 8 consecutive bars of music. She hears the music in her head.

Hit me with a hot note and watch me bounce! Hit me with a hot note and watch me bounce!

Fancy arrives at Whatever High School and parks in the visitor parking lot.

When trumpEHHHHHTS heat up, gimme a rug to beat up.

Fancy walks through the parking lot to the front doors of Whatever High School. Different song now.

I like to be in Ame-ri-ca. OK by me in Ame-ri-ca. (With a Puerto Rican accent, of course)

Fancy walks to the office where the secretary asks if she can be of any help. Fancy replies, "Yes. I'm here to choreograph for Whatever High School."

And all that jazz! Da dee dee daaaah dah dum, da dee dee daaaah dah dum....(Gunk, gunk) And all that jazz!

Secretary: OK, if I could just see some photo ID please. Fancy: Sure, no problem.

Step, kick, step, kick, step, kick, POSE! Da dee dee step, kick, step, kick, step, kick, POSE!

Secretary: Where did you say you were going again?

Fancy: Whatever High School

Shoulder....knee, and 1 and 2 and

Secretary: (eyebrows scrunched in perplexing form with head to one side)

To do...LUNGE....that....HAND....jaaaaazzz

Fancy: (realizing she is being weirdly stared at and wondering why. She raises her eyebrows in questioning form)

Secretary: RIght. Whatever High School...what. Where in Whatever High School?

Fancy: (Then realizing that she is already IN Whatever High School, speaking to the secreatry OF Whatever High School who, quite naturally, KNOWS Fancy is in Whatever High School) Oh, sorry, um, the choir room. The choir room is where I will be going. Thanks.

Oops

I overslept my alarm today and didn't make it to church.

That alarm was set to 8:15 AM.

I woke up at 9:45 AM, the very time our church service begins, because my dear husband called and woke me up.

How did that happen? I hate it when that happens. Is this Karma again because I said that Karma was a (shhh) you know what?

Karma rears her ugly head and laughs: I'll show YOU not to call me dirty names! You don't want to get up early?! FINE. Sleep in as much as you want and look like an irresponsible, lazy don't-want-to-go-to-church princess to all your church friends! Mwahh-Ha-ha-HA!

Those 5's will come mighty early this week.

But it's OK, it's OK! I love waking up in the 5's. I am such a morning person. I can't wait to wake up to the smell of coffee, step outside on my patio, and take in a deeeeep breath of that fresh, exhilerating, morning air.....while gazing at the.....moon.

Karma

Oh. my. GOSH.

I JUST blogged about this on Monday, gleefully basking in my granted good graces to be able to sleep in and avoid the 5's.

I now make it a point to never wake up in the 5's no matter what....Thankfully, even in my most busy work seasons since teaching, I have been spared from rolling over in the morning and seeing a bright red 5 staring back at my face. Glorious.

Telling poor Rob how utterly sorry I was that his rat-race-American work schedule required he be up at the crack.

To Rob: As for having to wake up at 5 AM, I'm truly sorry. I hope your Saturdays are good to you.

Just yesterday I received a phone call from a good friend of mine with whom I taught high school choir. He still teaches there, and he asked if I would choreograph his Spring Pop Show. At first he asked that I choreograph for his choirs only, which meet later in the day. No problem! I love to choreograph...and teach pubescent 9th grade boys how to keep their mammoth feet from winding around their ankles.

But THEN! He called back and said his assistant now wants me to choreograph for HER choirs as well, which meet very EARLY in the morning. And on one particular day, I have to be there at 7 freakin' 30! Not to mention he also added his men's choir into the batch. It's the choir that all the jocks take to goof around and make my teacher friend miserable. I'm scared of Men's Choir.

You know what this means, don't you? Considering the commute in the morning out to the school will probably take 45 minutes at that time, and that professionally speaking, I should arrive at least 15 minutes early.

I'm going to have to wake up IN THE 5's!

I better NOT blog about how thankful I am those pills are keeping me from getting pregnant.

Karma....is such a bitch.

Lunch with Carol

Today I met Carol at the picnic table outside in our park. We had lunch. Well, I had lunch. Carol didn't bring lunch because she says she doesn't eat anything anymore. I said that was nonsense and gave her my bag of potato chips. She didn't eat them but seemed OK with the idea of feeding them to Pebbles, her parrot.

We planned to meet at the picnic table at 1:45. I was five minutes early, but Carol was there waiting when I arrived.

Carol did most of the talking today. She usually does. She says alot of things that don't make sense and alot of things that make a whole lot of sense. Sometimes it seems to me that her stories are false. All these bad things that have happened to her. Really bad things. I think she makes them up. She's not well. And then other times she seems to me to be the most sincere person I know. She's smart and funny. Sometimes I laugh hard and out loud.

I know. I know to be careful. I will be cautious. Because all of these things she tells me, they can't be all true. They really can't. It would be too awful.

She's not well, mentally...I think. When Jesus says that we visit Him when we visit the sick, do the mentally sick count? Or do I run away because mentally sick people do things like massacre 33 people at Virgina Tech University. But when I have lunch with Carol I know that she couldn't hurt a fly. When I hand her my bag of potato chips, she has a sweet and honest smile, and pretty eyes. And when I tell her that God hears her prayers, she thinks about it, and then says she believes me.

The 5's

I occasionally suffer bouts of insomnia. I lie in bed at night, keeping myself awake by wishing I were asleep. It's quite painful, really. But lately, I don't even try to go to sleep. I just stay up until the wee hours of the morning because the night time is so much fun. I love staying up late and I love sleeping in the next day. And now it's a sleeping habit that I can't break. And a habit that some consider lazy, others consider weird, and I just consider different.

For two years I taught and conducted high school choir. They were two of the most challenging years of my life. I learned more about myself and this world than I ever have. I learned that there are many different ways to do something right. That different paths can lead to the same desired goal, and you get to think and create and pick your path as you go. And no one can tell you that it's the wrong one, because it only matters that the path you've created for achieving your goal works. There's not a right way to life, really.

But the most important thing I learned from teaching high school choir is that waking up in the 5's almost every day of the week is horrid and should be illegal. No one should have to wake up at 5 AM or 5:30 AM or 5:55 AM. I now make it a point to never wake up in the 5's no matter what. And if for some strange reason I have to, then I am in a horrid mood and don't talk to me. Thankfully, even in my most busy work seasons since teaching, I have been spared from rolling over in the morning and seeing a bright red 5 staring back at my face. Glorious.

Musicians

Ever been in a room full of musicians? Awkward, awkward, awkward.

We attended lovely wedding festivities this weekend where probably 70% of the guests were musicians of some sort. Here's what it was like:

Musician #1: Dude, I heard your ukulele playing during the ceremony. Nice, man! (Thinking to himself: I wonder if Musician #2 thinks I suck at the ukulele.)

Musician #2: (With furrowed brow, nodding the head) Hey, thanks man. (Thinking to himself: I wonder if he really liked it or if he's just saying he liked it.)

(More nods, hands in pockets)

Musician #1: (Notices friend of Musician #2, but doesn't say anything, wants to say something, so just glances back and forth from Musician #2 to friend)

Musician #2: (Notices the glances) Oh hey, this is my friend Musician #3.

Musician #1: Hey. So what do you play? (Thinking to himself, is Musician #3 as awesome as I am at music?)

Musician #3: Oh, um, ya know, the trumpet, the accordian, the hammer dulcimer. I just mess around, really. I mean, I went out on a run with the coolest band ever, but...ya know. (Thinking to himself, does Musician #1 think that Musician #2 is a better musician than me?)

Musician #1: Cool, man. (Damn, he's more awesome than me.)

(More nods, more glances, straighten the shirt, more nods.)

****************************************************************************
I'm a musician, so I can say this. Why are we so freakin' insecure?

Musicians like to form cliques because they are insecure. In fact, that's what bands are. They're cliques that musicians form to feel more secure. Then they don't have to worry about the rest of the normal world. They can just make sure they feel better about themselves and rock on.

Favorites Game

Favorite ice cream.

Ready?

Go.

Church Talk

Sorry, totally got preoccupied with a a discussion about the church over at Shlog.

Discussion about the church over at Shlog? That's real hard to believe.

Post coming soon. Hey, whadoyou do when you don't know what to post? Favorite cereals? Favorite books? Favorite movies, music? Favorite ice cream?!?!

On Belief

"The thing I have to work on in myself is this issue of belief. Gandhi believed Jesus when He said turn the other cheek. Gandhi brought down the British Empire, deeply injured the caste system, and changed the world. Mother Teresa believed Jesus when He said everybody was priceless, even the ugly ones, the smelly ones, and Mother Teresa changed the world by showing them that a human being can be selfless....But the trouble with deep belief is that it costs something. And there is something inside me, some selfish beast of a subtle thing that doesn't like the truth at all because it carries responsibility, and if I actually believe these things I have to do something about them. It is so, so cumbersome to believe anything....

What I believe is not what I say I believe; what I believe is what I do."

Donald Miller, excerpt from Blue Like Jazz

Married to an A.D.D Man

My husband has a notable case of a semi-debilitating disease called A.D.D. A disease for which he has yet to be treated. I had no idea what I was getting into when I married him. I mean, I knew he was a creative genius, but I didn't have a clue as to what that would look like on a day to day basis.

Oh man.

I don't think I need to explain what it's like. He's already done that. He has a doctor's appointment today because of a cruddy cold, and we both decided it would be a good idea to get the doc to refer him to an adult A.D.D. diagnostic center. The quack shack at Rice won't give him drugs for A.D.D. unless he's been officially diagnosed.

So, after our morning search for his ever-elusive wallet (which we found in his coat pocket), he hurries out the door, running late and frusterated about it. I walk him to the door like a good little wife, offer a loving "be careful", and then, as I close the door, holler after him as he's walking to his car,

"Don't forget to ask about the A.D.D."

???

Well, there's hope. There's always hope.

The Muppet Matrix

Kermie, my hero. And Miss Piggy, you're lookin' hot, woman....or...pig....um....

My favorite thing about this might be the music playing during the end credits.

Sam and Toni

I attended the Maundy Thursday service at our church today. Seth and I arrived early since he was playing the piano, so I took my seat in the sanctuary, awaiting the service. The seats were empty. Not many people had arrived yet. So I chose a seat off to the side by myself. Head down, reading the program, I was hoping that no one would come to sit beside me. I was enjoying sitting alone, and I hoped it would stay that way. I didn't feel that I needed any company. I wasn't in the mood for small talk. I'm no good at it anyway.

Ten minutes before starting time, I heard commotion behind me. Well hey Amber! Great, I'm gonna have to talk. I turned around and saw Sam and Toni. I don't know Sam and Toni very well. But I remember that they joined the church not too long after we did. Hard to miss. Sam always looks like he's just stepped off of a fishing canoe. Toni looks like the quintessential Texan woman meets Pocahontas. Her hair is actually black with frosted silver highlights. But it's huge, so that counts for Texan. Huge hair, dark skin, lots of make up, swishy skirts, likes to talk. We chatted. It was fine.

Somehow we started talking about Toni's friend who is a Hindu. Toni has invited her to church and prays for her friend. Her prayers are big prayers that take alot of faith to pray, and they've been answered. She wants her friend to know that if she prays to her God, that He'll hear and answer. So now her Hindu friend says she'll come to church.

Then Toni told me about how she came to know Christ. She was already married to Sam. Sam said that after Toni became a Christian she left him for Jesus. Sam said he got jealous of Jesus. But it was OK because it brought him to the Lord, too. And then Toni said that before she was a Christian she was mean and hateful, and a couch potato. But afterwards, she was still a couch potato, just a couch potato with a Bible. And she would sit on the couch and read the Bible and weep. "Because God...he weeps, ya know." Is what she said to me.

And I was worried about small talk.

The service began. Dramatic readings. Scripture. String quartet. Seth at the piano. It was meaningful. It was moving.

Then we prayed.

And for no reason, Toni reached from behind me during the prayer and put her hand on my arm. It startled me a bit at first, and then...tears.

I'm not sure why. I thought I wanted to be alone. Maybe I didn't. But it felt like Jesus was touching my arm, and I moved my hand over hers and wondered if this is how Carol feels when I hug her goodbye.

Birds are Gross

Warning: This post contains cursing. I'm sorry in advance if it offends you.

I was reading Brody's blog about a bird incident, and it reminded me of a bird experience I had recently. I wanted to leave this as a comment on his blog but kinda chickened out.

Birds are just gross.

I hate the tree outside our apartment because it's always swarming with birds and I'm always afraid that when I walk down the stairs to my car that they'll bomb me with their nasty bird crap.

Once Seth and I were loading up the car for a gig. We had to park under that tree. So I was holding a piece of equipment while Seth was loading and suddenly I felt something plop right on my arm. I was so mad. I yelled at Seth, "Gross! Hurry! Take this stuff. A bird just crapped on me. And it's all HOT. Right out of its ass."

Have you ever had a bird crap directly on your skin?! No lie, it's hot. Naturally, the visual that would follow the hit would be where that hot, nasty dripping mess came from. And that would be its bum.

It was so totally gross.

Everyone Wants to Be Fancy

I'm reading Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. I highly recommend it to anyone who likes to read about God in non-religious terms. This quote stuck with me, maybe because I love the word: fancy...such a great word for so many reasons. But maybe because I relate to the idea. Here it is:

"Everybody wants to be somebody fancy. Even if they're shy.... Everybody wants to be fancy and new. Nobody wants to be themselves. I mean, maybe people want to be themselves, but they want to be different, with different clothes or shorter hair or less fat. It's a fact. If there was a guy who just liked being himself and didn't want to be anybody else, that guy would be the most different guy in the world and everybody would want to be him."

Thoughts welcome.

See ya Barbs

'Dancing With the Stars' drops Finnessey
By SANDY COHEN, AP Entertainment Writer
additions by FANCYPANTS
She may have taken the Miss USA title in 2004, but Shandi Finnessey won't be crowned the winner of "Dancing With the Stars." (Back to baton throwing and fighting for world peace, Barbs.)
After ranking in the bottom two last week, Finnessey was eliminated Tuesday from the ABC dance-off. (YESSSS)
The game show host and former beauty queen said that her experience on the show was "amazing" and that working with her professional dance partner, Brian Fortuna, was "great." (how articulate, thank you, Barbs)
"I just hope I didn't disappoint him," she said. (Oh, I'm sure you didn't....)
Despite high marks from the judges, Leeza Gibbons narrowly escaped elimination Tuesday. She and her partner, Tony Dovolani, also placed in the bottom two.
"The elimination is nerve-racking," she said. "It's insane."
Billy Ray Cyrus echoed that sentiment, calling results night "a real freak show." He added that all the dancing he's done has left him with "an achy, breaky butt." (Does it all have to be about Achy Breaky, Billy Ray? Time to move on buddy)
Each week, judges' scores are combined with viewer votes to determine which couple will be eliminated.
Clyde Drexler earned the lowest score - 16 points out of 30 - but was kept afloat by fans. (Sorry, Clyde, but I predict next week will be your last. You're sweet, but sweet's not cuttin it anymore.)
Tuesday's results show also featured performances by Ciara, Josh Groban and the band Survivor, which played its 1982 hit "Eye of the Tiger." (Really? And I missed this? Dangit)
Paulina Porizkova has already been eliminated. The remaining celebrity dancers are Gibbons, Cyrus, Drexler, Ian Ziering, Joey Fatone, Laila Ali, John Ratzenberger, Heather Mills and Apolo Anton Ohno. Each will perform the paso doble or the waltz on Monday's show. (Laila and Ian are my top picks from Monday. Laila's still my ultimate favorite. She'll rule this competition. Watch, they'll start breaking all the rules and the judges will score them low for it. It's all rigged. That's what sucks about reality T.V. But I'm a sucker. I admit. Joey from NSYNC is a nah nah. Dancing the tango to the Star Wars theme with a freakin' lightsaber? C-O-R-N-Y. Give me a break. And Heather, another rigged saga. At the last minute she goes to the doctor to get a leg that bounces. Oh the drama. Tune in next Monday, 7 central.)