I.O.U.

Oh, yes, it's one of THOSE posts again.

Wherein I tell you "I'm so busy" and "work is crazy right now" and "here are all the things I'm GOING to write about when things slow down."

(You're probably reading that in a sarcastic, whiny tone. But I prefer the quiet, sincere, regretful, staring-at-my-shoes tone I'm adopting in my head. Your choice.)

So, yes. I'm so busy, and work is crazy right now, so here are all the things I'm GOING to write about when things slow down. Don't give up on me, 'kay?

1. Music challenge update! Yes, it's true: I asked and you delivered. AND HOW. So far, including the 10 bands I put out there for feedback in my original post, I have 65 recommendations to spin through. SIXTY-FIVE. Y'all are committed to your music, and I love that. I've been taking my assignment seriously and have spent time with 10 of those 65 so far. My (honest) opinions will be forthcoming.
2. Crafty fun times! I made a few things for Christmas gifts and am working on a few more. And you get to SEE THEM! Yippee!
3. Poo: A conundrum! It's a problem, people. I know some of you feel my pain. (And before you get really skeered, this is a doggie post, so you aren't going to be getting all up and personal with me. I would never do that to you. Probably.)
4. The garlic story! Finally! It's a classic.
5. My most treasured possessions! It's like a tour of why I am a sentimental weirdo. I have a lot of treasured possessions. In fact, maybe I need to make this a series... (And if you're worried I might be opening myself to thievery by sharing my most treasured items on the Internet, never fear -- they're all worth less than $5.)

See? How can you abandon me when all that amazing stuff is just RIGHT around the corner?

(Please don't leave me.)

Hugs.

Let's play a game: Music! Challenge!

So, I have a confession to make. A really embarrassing one.

And no, it has nothing to do with tequila. Well, this time.

It's about music.

Aside from a brief flirtation into the world of grrrrl bands and indie rock in college, I...am kind of a music lame-o. I blame New Kids on the Block for starting me down this run-of-the-mill, frothy pop/rock road. I was an impressionable young 7th grader, and their fresh-faced questionable harmonies just roped me right in. Before I knew it, my bedroom was plastered with life-sized pictures of Joey McIntyre and that other one with the girly voice, and they were the only music that ever graced my giant boombox.



And even when Nirvana came along and yanked me out of the boy-band doldrums, it was a short-lived victory before I was peer-pressured away by my friends' love for mid-90s country music. (Yeah, I know. I still have a soft spot for Collin Raye, though. Leave me alone.)

But here's the thing: After college? Music wasn't really on my radar -- at least not cutting-edge music. As a lifelong singer and music lover, this probably seems like a travesty of epic proportions, but...I was busy. I had my first job, my first apartment. I moved to the city, I met my husband, reality TV was invented... Before I knew it, I hadn't purchased a CD in years and I found myself listening to middle-of-the-road Columbus pop mush and classic rock stations on the way to work. Then I started listening to Bob and Tom.

(Let's please pause for a moment of silence while I regret this phase of my life.

...

OK. Moving on.)

With the advent of satellite radio, it's almost gotten worse. There are too many choices, so I fall back on the old reliable pop stations. Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, the Black Eyed Peas, Beyonce -- it's all there. And it's fine. I guess.

But there's some part of me that's longing to recapture a little of that college indie rock phase. Or at least listen to something that isn't played in my trying-to-be-hip dentist's office and replayed on pop stations every 15 minutes to the swooning of pre-teens. Justin Bieber and his stupid, stupid hair make my soul cry, and I don't think I'm alone in this.

Recently, I started listening to a satellite radio station that plays some old faves from the '90s (The Verve, anyone?), but also throws on some folks I've never heard before. I'm intrigued by these new (to me) bands, but aside from looking them up on Wikipedia, I know nothing about them. And, more importantly...I don't know if they're really any good, or if I'll just like that one song.

So here's where you come in. I trust you much more than Wikipedia, after all, and I know some of you are serious music junkies/aficionados. So I'm asking you, please: Help me? Help me stop being a middle-of-the-road, music lame-o? Broadening my musical horizons means that, somewhere, Ke$ha (ugh) loses a little bit of her dubious magical powers.



Working together, we can make a difference.

So. Your challenge is twofold: First, I've listed some of the bands I've recently discovered below. Familiar with them? Tell me, in the comments, what you think. Are they worth my time and, possibly, cash? Or just a flash in the pan and/or into devil worship? (Now, before you get all up on your too-cool-for-school musical high-horse, all, "WTF, woman, {X Band} came out 15 years ago! Where have you been?!" -- I get it. I'm lame. That's kind of the whole point here. So just humor me, OK?)

And second, do you have a super-great indie hipster band in your back pocket that I just HAVE to know about/listen to/follow obsessively around the country? Tell me about it. I promise to listen with an open mind and report back to you. Don't worry about what I may or may not like, music-wise -- my tastes are pretty eclectic -- but if you're concerned, the bands I've listed below should give you a reasonable idea of what I enjoy.

Let the challenge begin! (And thanks, in advance, for your help.)

1. The Black Keys: I'm listing them first because I just saw that they hosted SNL last week, which means they probably are more middle-of-the-road than what I'm going for here. But I want your opinions nonetheless.
2. Cage the Elephant: I thoroughly enjoy "No Rest for the Wicked." Anything else?
3. The Decemberists
4. Ray Lamontagne: I have a sneaking suspicion he's one of those "This guy has been around FOREVER -- HOW have you never heard of him?" dudes. (And I'm pretty sure he sings that version of "Trouble" that's in the commercial about the dog hiding his bone.) But I like the guy's voice, so...he makes the list.
5. The Midway State
6. Spoon: I swear I've heard of them before, but I don't know why. Help?
7. Coconut Records
8. Eric Hutchinson: Not exactly the most badass rocker name, but I'm willing to give him a try if he's worth it.
9. The Thrills
10. Imogen Heap: Now, I'm not completely dense; I HAVE heard of Ms. Heap, and I've thoroughly enjoyed what I've heard. But I'd like your thoughts -- is she worth an extra look? Any of her stuff better than others?
    

Well, I am.

Just line up at the door to dunk your chicken fingers of lameness in my ear.

After a harrowing day of travel (including a semi-scary side trip to a semi-ghetto-Wendy's in a semi-sketchy Philly shopping plaza) I pitched my karaoke idea to 36x37 on our drive to Wilmington Tuesday night.

Her immediate response?

"HELL YEAH, we're singing karaoke!"

(She's awesome.)

The plan: Attend our all-day meeting (which actually turned out to be extraordinarily productive and positive -- miracles do happen!), do happy hour with coworkers, grab dinner and then hit a karaoke bar with as many brave coworkers as we could guilt into joining us.

I warned 36x37 that my repertoire is firmly entrenched in the 80s power ballad wheelhouse, with the occasional zigzag into Etta James territory. She notified me that she specialized in throaty Motown classics.

This had the making of a fantastic evening.

By 5:00, however, despite the surprisingly-fruitful meeting, I knew I was in trouble. I'd been nursing a worsening migraine all day, and it had finally hit full force: Waves of nausea? Check. Thousands of tiny knives stabbing me behind the eyes and at the base of my skull (and everywhere else on my head and neck)? Check. Desire to saw off my head to exact some relief? Double-check.

I braved happy hour, ate a few chips and felt a smidge better. But as soon as we started walking to the car to head to dinner, I knew the jig was up.

36x37, in her infinite wisdom, suggested we just go back to the hotel, order room service and call it a night. (She's smart.)

By the time we got back to the hotel, I was convinced I was dying. I called T from the fetal position on the bed, in tears -- the kind you cry when you're little and you have to throw up and you just cry because...throwing up sucks, and you just want your mom to stroke your hair and tell you you can stay home from school and watch soap operas and eat saltines and drink ginger ale that she only buys when you get sick.

(I regress when I get sick; I'm not saying I'm proud of this.)

So there were no sing-y fun times. At least not on this trip. Lame sauce.

But now that I know 36x37 is game, it is ON. And when this goes down, I'll make sure you all get to share in the Bon Jovi/Temptations goodness.