Life At Full Throttle

I find it amazing how music tags me back to life memories.

Music.

I’ve recently become aware of an interesting phenomenon about the musical interests of the men I’ve dated. (Yes, this is precisely what I do with my downtime, analyze, which is a step up from doing long division in my head in on the way home to watch the Flintstones for lunch. I digress. Entirely too much information).

Here it goes. Each man has had a very distinct, yet very dedicated taste in music. The roll call goes something like this:

Top 40 "80’s stuff" – this includes all the Wham, Foreigner, Chicago, Madonna etc that you can fill you boots with. "Our Song" was Lady In Red and The Proclaimers had us singing along on one of our many road trips.
Pop (keyboard haven) – Platinum Blonde, Depeche Mode, Eye Eye, Duran Duran, New Order, Glass Tiger, Honeymoon Suite…and so on...and so on...X was a HUGE pop fan – all his collection was comprised of actually (I couldn’t believe the narrowness yet vastness of his musical scope back then). With this came all the indy and local stuff too.
Reggae / Jazz – Marley, Marley, Marley and more Marley with an open buffet of Jazz so that no man, woman nor beast would ever go hungry again. Joshua Tree (the location) is etched in time.
Rock – You name it, it was there. This guy had actually developed, created, financed and marketed the coolest unique CD organization system.
Country – This exposure had me pulling on some deep musical roots and revisiting places I thought I had permanently turned away from.

Each one of those genres of music can be tied back to a specific time or event in my life. Be it high school, venturing out, death of a couple of close friends, liberating myself, loving myself, sifting through my past, remembering my family & my past.

The net result is that I realize that with the exception of The Beatles (and *perhaps* although unlikely... the Eurythmics, The Dan Reid Network and I Mother Earth/Edwin, BIG SUGAR & TRHCP) I am a musical orphan. Which means The Beatles are the only band that I feel like I truly adored and “arrived” to on my own.The country stuff was always on on the radio at home and in the truck (that's my dad). The only other musical exposure I rec’d was from my brother which looked something like Judas Priest, Pink Floyd, Meatloaf, The Who, Ozzy, Black Sabbath, Zeppelin and so on….If it weren't for those LP's, it was the radio, country or Elvis!

It was around that time that tossed The Osmond’s tape my mom gave me for Christmas and bought my first single. (:-D!) Eric Clapton’s Cocaine A side, B side escapes me right now – but it equally ROCKED. Shortly after my first real crush died in a car accident, I embraced the Beatles more tightly than before and as I wrote out lyrics and lined my locker as a tribute to my friend, music had found a special place in my heart that was with me while I grieved ~ alone. No grief counsellors at school back then! Shortly after, it was announced that John Lennon was killed and up went his picture over my bed.

After my first LP, The White Album, further down the road I acquired some Foreigner, Chicago, Cyndi Lauper, but nothing ground breaking until the U2 Revolution that occurred during my solo trip to British Columbia after graduating college. Next to David Suzuki, Bono being perhaps one of the only other famous people that come to mind I'd like to eat diner with...

Today, I find myself floating in a sea of a musical identity crisis. What a fun place to be…I’m always up for a good challenge. In this case, to coax out that shy, introverted me that prefers to stay hidden in the shadows where it’s safe.

This is, the taste test of a life time!

Canada, this is your area of expertise, any suggestions to help me find my musical identity?



Thanks to Dave for aiding in my pursuit of musical happiness with his introduction to Last.fm.

What Next?

New? New. What's new?

My dear old friend, the boy who never stopped chasing - the one with the investment property. He suddenly got married and suddenly divorced as I just learned. Turns out the woman of his dreams, honestly the closest Angelina Jolie look-a-like I have ever seen happened to be a stripper (incidently with over $25,000 of plastic surgery - lips, teeth, boobs...). My friend just sold investment property #2 and has #1 rented. In thirty days, he'll have no place to live because investment property #2 sold. I've offered him a room if he needs it.

In other news...I'm really enjoying my new job. Today I spend the day shadowing another rep, we did some rounds, had a nice lunch at a pub, he wants to introduce me to a friend of his, but I still don't feel ready for that. We swung by his place, he cleaned some cat puke while I played his guitar. He has a baby boy on the way and has done a great job on the house, with special detail to the baby's room. We did a little business, then finished up the afternoon in a relaxing fashion on the road then back to head office. I LOVE working with men. LOVE-LOVE-LOVE-LOVE-LOVE it. What a refreshing change. Setting up has consumed most of my time lately, but that's ok with me. That good ole work ethic of mine kickin' in...I have to admit, I really have been enjoying this new job, the people, the interaction, the vibe ~ but they sure do drink alot!

In other-other news....My family has begun to put some ever-so-slight pressure on me to move to the country. I think they're concerned about my travel time and having my son taken care of....If I lived out there it would be easier on everyone. Everyone but me. I told them I have no intensions of living in the country and being single. I consider myself to be quite independant, but that's pushing it. I'll be in TO on training for a week at the end of Oct - I'll miss Halloween. C'est la vie. Woman has to work and halloween in TO with a bunch of friends will be a whole lotta fun.... ... ... .... ................................... .. .... . . ... . . . . . . . . ............. . . . . . . . . . . . .................... . . . ....

Listening to Unchained Melody : Sarah MacLaughlin.... Norah Jones : Turn me on . . . . . . ............ . . . . . . . . . ... .... .... ...... .. .. . . ........... . . . ............. . . . . ....... . . . . . . . . . .... ..... . ....... .... ... .. . ................. ..... . . . .. ............. .................................. .... . . . . . . . . . . ....... ... . .

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come awayyyyyyyyyyy with me.....



:)

p.s. Did I mention that I came home to A BIG HEAP OF DOG CRAP??

She Says Sneakers

Quirks?

It wasn’t bamboo shoots driven under my fingernails; it was just listening to Supertramp(shudders) . Perfect for Sunday morning, Breakfast in America, but a no-no for working.

Brad Paisley. Well, I like Brad Paisley. I’ll let him live.

Nina, well, there’s never a wrong time for Nina (or the Squirrel Nut Zippers).

Willy and I seem to get along almost all of the time. After all cowboys are hard to love and it is ALL YOUR FAULT….. ;-)

Right now I’m listening to Tim and Faith – “I Need You”. Pretty song. So is Dwight Yoakam’s “Try Not to Look So Pretty”…Happy songs.

Complaint.

I’ll admit I have naïve side, I’ll also admit that I can be polite/nice to a fault often putting other people’s feelings ahead of my own. However, when I have experienced men grabbing, giving what I will politely describe as “unwanted touch”, well, this is another story. The last time this happened was Thanksgiving when some fucktard friend of my brothers grabbed me and tried to throw me over his shoulder. He’s a jackass like this. This cat normally lands on her feet, but if he tries it again he’s gonna lose a ball.

Then there’s the “hugger”. How do you dodge the hugger? I work with a hugger I’ve known for years, for me his hugs feel like the equivalent of having a dog hump your leg (notice I said “your” leg, I don’t even want to imagine this in the context of “my”). OK, here’s how to avoid the “where’s my hug” guy: You load your arms with every available object, this works equally as well with the hand shaker. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have an aversion to touch, or hand shaking in general. But there are some people I don’t want to touch in any way shape or form.

Where the fuck do guys get off touching? Boo – if you’re reading, remember the back- rubber from the stag? WTF? What are guys thinking?! I’ve never met this person before in my entire life and his approach with me is to feel me up?! I’m buying a flame thrower.




I’ll use it on people who breath to close to me as well and especially on people with ass breath.

Sans Sister.

I am void of sister. I have always wanted, hoped and prayed for a sister. The kind who loves you like a best friend, shares in your triumphs, cries when you cry, has a hug when things get rough, will phone up the creep who treats me like dirt and tells him just what a scum bag he is….Plan Christmas with….You know all that good stuff.

My friends who have really good sisters are so lucky. Some spoiled with sister love really. Makes me so jealous!!! Probably don’t even know how lucky they are. What do I have? A brother. Yeah, yeah he loves me an all, but brother’s aren’t so good at the nurturing thing, not like sisters. Sisters cook for you, bring you things, drop in for visits.

My brother is 4 years older than I am. We so love each other very much and he does his brotherly minimal minimum. It really freaks me out when I think of my mom dying and not having a sister around to ride out life with.

I wish I had a sister. Or two. I REALLY wish I had a sister. My life would be better with a sister. Unless I had a sister who was a twit. If I had a stupid sister, or a slutty sister, I’d go mental and probably plot her death. Or-0r, if I had a sister who was some cold feminist nazi bitch - I'd hate her. I'd want a soft, warm, happy, fun, supportive sister - kinda just another me! My brother's girlfriend is a nice warm fuzzy kinda girl - I like her. If she had a Harley, that would be good. Maybe someday I’ll get a sister-in-law. I’d wish she was older than me. Yup. Welcome to my little dream world of previously unspoken wants.

For my friends, Canada, Boo, Lou-Lou in Lousiana, Banana, ML, all the gals in my life are my sisters. I cooked some kick ass Thai tonight, maybe I ought to feed some of them soon….


Work

My territory is spread wider than…. well..let’s just say it’s vast.

Here’s how it looks:

HULL, QC
GATINEAU, QC
LAVAL, QC
WAKEFIELD, QC
BUCKINGHAM, QC
AYLMER, QC
ALMONTE, ON
KARP, ON
CLARENCE CREEK, ON
OSGOODE, ON
RICHMOND, ON
ALFRED, ON
ALEXANDRIA, ON
MORRISBURG, ON
ISIDORE, ON
IROQUOIS, ON
PRESCOTT, ON
GLENBURNIE, ON
OTTAWA, ON
GLOUCESTER, ON
NEPEAN, ON
KANATA, ON
STITTSVILLE, ON
CUMBERLAND, ON
NAVAN, ON
ROCKLAND, ON
RUSSELL, ON
CORNWALL, ON
BROCKVILLE, ON
ARNPRIOR, ON
PEMBROKE, ON
BURLINGTON, ON

Where the hell is Glenburnie!?

The last time I spent this much time in my car was when I was in graphic design and commuting two hours every day to get to College.

Living Alone.

After sewing the neckars for the kids Beaver colony the ironing board and sewing machine have taken permanent residence in my kitchen/living room area. I’m reveling in my singlehood this way. It’s liberating being a woman and having woman type stuff about. Especially my grandmother’s sewing box. Silly, weird the things that bring me comfort. My grampa and gramma were farmers and when I'd come to visit, gramma would always make Apple Crisp just for me cause she new I didn't like seeds in berries.

(BTW : Canada, that sewing, ironing night is not to be spoken of ever-EVER again, just grab a shovel and pitch in ;-)).

Omar.

My dear boy. Has requested baking soda to dip his toothbrush into to brush with. I used to do the same thing when I was a kid.

*blech!*

"The last thing I want to be remembered as is an annoying blabber mouth. "

Believe

Brooks & Dunn do.

We spend it without even thinking about it. We can’t make more of it. We cherish it. We manage it. We justify it. We waste it, we use it. We can’t reuse it. Can’t recycle it. Can’t go back on it. We’re only given a limited supply of it and once it’s gone, it’s gone for good. No matter what, it keeps on pushing forward. No matter what.

Time.
Time heals.
Time walks in.
Time walks out.
Time tells you to trust.
Time tells you to move.
Time tells you to breath.
Time tells you to give up.
Time tells you to forgive.
Time tells you to wake up.
Time tells you to take a stand.
Time tells this little Cherokee Maiden that she can wish in one hand and shit in the other, but one will fill up first.

What does that mean? It means Make IT Happen. It means wishing and dreaming are fine and good but that doesn’t put IT in your hand, you don’t HAVE it, until you go get it.

What is IT? It’s more than a feeling, it’s a heap of memories, it’s a chance, it’s a god willing look at living that taps you into a synchronisity of events that bring you what you have today and what you will work on tomorrow.

~ ~ ~

I did something my stylist told me never to do. “Don’t take it out on your hair!” I did. The underside of my hair has been dyed a dark reddish brown with some accents around my face. I fear for where this will go next…It’s the third time I’ve done this. My natural hair colour is brown (when I was born it was black) and my deepest darkest desire has been to go back to brown in some form or another. Blond has been…well, it's been, fun….always good to have some fun.

Shopping. Mom and I put in a good solid eight hours of it today. Troopers. Twas a bountiful load!!! Arrrg!!!! PLUS finally a new bra. This has been an endeavour and any woman with breasts to sling, large or small, can attest to this. I had a bra-stealing episode from my car while attending a gala event and have been stuck with a “make-do” bra while I hunted down a new one. My favourite from La Vie En Rose was discontinued. But. Today, I can stick out my chest in pride! Albeit the VERY BEST THING about my month of unemployment was NOT wearing a bra every day. Ohhhh happiness IS. Time also tells you when to take off your bra!

The new job rocks – too much to write about that. I can say that a highlight aside from all the wonderful men and women I am meeting (I can't remember when I've laughed this much at work - I needed this!) is that I work with a John Candy look alike. You're not Canadian in my books unless you watched SCTV.

"You know what I always say, you don't know what you don't know until you know, and then you know."

Free Hugs,
Nancy













*CLICK BELOW FOR A LISTEN!*

John Candy

...and a little extra Candy for my sweet tooth ~ I like it sweet ;)

"Oh, he's drunk. How would he know where we're going?"

What a moron.

Give It Like You're Gonna Get It

Dave over at Blogography has it right, recognizing October as Breast Cancer Awareness Month. So, you're stuck with the pink for now. Besides I like "my girls" and I like my life just fine. So if you're gonna give it, give it like you're gonna get it.

I'm working on sharing some other things about myself here. Not something I'm so good at sometimes. Right now, I'll share that I'm chowing down on the best damn chilli going. I do like to cook.

"The Boss" is back for the afternoon. In place of a high chair, linking two climbing slings together works perfectly to bind a child into a kitchen chair. Perfectly acceptable providing you know how to tie the knot. Lucky for her, I do, and luckily for us, she was cooperative anchored in there all nice and snug.

Completely fed up with waiting for the job offer to appear I called the Branch Manager this morning and told him I needed to plan. Enough is enough. He told me I'd have the offer by tomorrow. While I believe in waiting for something good, and even though I do have my sites set, quite frankly, I'm tired of dicking around.

I'm a woman, I can be emotional like that from time to time. Prime time to book a day of paint ball. Nothing better than shooting at something you've taken aim at. I'm feeling down right fit to be tied today.

From my "Girl's Only" playlist, Sheryl Crow's "Strong Enough To Be My Man", Sarah MacLaughlin "I Will Remember You" and Terri Clark's "Girls Lie Too" play out. Like it or not, here I am. Life has taken it's one kick at this cat and stretched me to my limit.

What doesn't kill you...

For the rest of you.... I'll always have Paris, a nice place to visit, wouldn't want to live there...you know how it goes. Here's one of my favourite pics, simply because I envisioned the picture, I knew what I wanted to see and I made it happen steady as can be with my father's beautiful old Tripod.

*Click on it to make it all BIG and yummy.*

Norah Jones says is best...

Come Away With Me,

Nancy


















Paris - April 2005