One More Cup of Coffee

I am BEYOND thrilled to be participating in...

THE RETURN OF TWISTED MIXTAPE TUESDAY!!!!

It's back as a once a month Tuesday, instead of a once a week Tuesday... but still! MORE MIX TAPES!!!!

This month's mix tape theme is the Soundtrack Of Your Summer. This is a bit of a cop out for me, as my summer actually did have a soundtrack. And it actually is a mix tape. And no, it has nothing to do with Guardians of the Galaxy.

Starting at the beginning of last school year, I built a list of songs that my kids loved listening to. In the car, mostly. That way, I'd know what music to put on when somebody suddenly started having a meltdown. There are a few songs that didn't make the official list, because of fairly obvious reason, but once the list was long enough to fill up a CD, I burned it. And it's been playing in our car pretty much on a loop as we traveled all summer.

To give you an idea of how effective this disc is, last weekend we went to a birthday party in the distant 'burbs. RH screamed halfway home, until I remembered to put on the disc. As the first few notes of the first song played, she became instantly silent. And then, in a perfectly calm voice, she announced, "I happy now!"

Here, for your listening pleasure, is the soundtrack of my summer. Enjoy!





The kids fell in love with this song over the course of the year, on days when we drove downtown to pick up M from work. I would sing a few bars of the song as we crossed the bridge over the Chicago River, and eventually they stopped believing me that it was a real song. Well, now they know every single word.



This song is on a mix M and I like to listen to on a semi-regular basis, so the kids fell in love with it during our drive to Minnesota for Christmas last year. As much as they love it, SI refuses to sing along. "The words go too fast."



I put this track on a mix for myself once upon a time, and I LOVE IT. So of course I played it in the car once in a while. Well, SI fell in love with it. She wanted it, on a loop, every time we got in the car. For months. It's still her favorite song. Actually, she just generally loves Bob Dylan covers, her second favorite track being "Forever Young," as performed by Poppa.



The first of several Beatles tracks. Another one I sang as we went about our business around town. I would sing it to RH in order to get her to hold my hand as we crossed the school parking lot. Again, the children didn't believe it was a real song until this mix came into being.



Every morning last year, as we drove to preschool, I'd surf through the local pop stations, looking for what the kids and I called "bouncy songs." These were songs the kids could happily bounce in their seats to, through the whole six minute drive. This was one of their two favorite "bouncy song."



There are several songs that, starting pretty much at birth, RH has responded really well to. The first song (and one that's not featured in this list) is "Monster" by Eminem, featuring Rihanna. That's one that M nixed for being "inappropriate." Whatever. RH also loves her some Men At Work.



I don't think there is was child alive in America in 2014 who didn't memorize at least half of the nonsense words in this song. And unlike most music that falls into the category of "kids songs," this one is actually a brilliantly crafted pop song that doesn't terribly grate on the adults in the vicinity. So it made the list.



Really, the songs RH loves have a common theme. They're high tempo, with a repetitive guitar or bass riff. I have NO complaints about her love of this song. I love this song, too. So RH gets two giant thumbs up from me on her taste in music. (Yes, Eminem included.)



One of the kids' favorite movies is "Yellow Submarine." When I started making the mix, I put every single track from the movie into it, and slowly whittled away the ones they liked least. They love this track, not exactly sure why, but it's delightful and makes everybody happy, and I'll never turn my nose up at The Beatles.



When I was a kid, my dad used to play this on the guitar. And starting when the kids were very small, I'd sing it to them every time it rained. Sometime last year, DD fell in love with it, so the original made its way into the mix.



So in case there was any question that my kids are, in fact, ridiculously awesome. Let's recap. SI's favorite song is a Dylan cover by the Turkish equivalent of Madonna, RH's favorite song is by Stevie Nicks, and DD's favorite song is Peter Gabriel's magnum opus. It comforts me to know that, all other things aside, I'm at least doing SOMETHING right.



This song came on randomly one winter morning, and SI stopped eating to ask me about it. She requested it three days in a row, and it made the list, and then RH fell in love with it. That up tempo, repetitive riff thing again. It's a great song, and these kids have fabulous taste.



Truth be told, we tried and tried and tried to find a download of the Maccabeats' cover of this song, "Candlelight." But this version was also one of our favorite "bouncy songs." And so the kids are perfectly happy with the original. Plus, I dance like a maniac behind the wheel and other moms in other minivans stare with unbridled awe and shame at my killer moves.



No explanation required.



Another of RH's favorite songs. It always cheered her when it came onto the radio, and so it made the list. Bonus? It's one of M's favorite Billy Joel tracks too, so while I'm recovering from belting along to "Let It Go," M picks up the singing slack and sings this like he's about to win the world championship of karaoke. I love that man.



I am thoroughly a child of the 90s, and my children are more than minimally exposed to the great songstresses of the Lilith crowd. This is their favorite Sarah McLachlan track, I'm not sure why. I always had a thing for "Possession." Then again, they ARE four years old, and I imagine a lot of the subtext is going over their heads.



Like I said, it's one of their favorite movies. I would rather have kept "Nowhere Man" on the list, if it were me, but RH really appreciates this song. And hearing her scream, "Yellow Submaween!" over and over again is awfully cute.



Starting back when we used to have our post-breakfast dance parties, the girls and I listened to a lot of swing. This is a favorite of theirs, and has few enough overt sexual innuendo for M to deem it acceptable for the children.



Another song RH fell in love with after it came onto the radio one day. Repetitive high tempo riff... plus, Mommy sings along and rolls down all the window and blasts the music. And who doesn't love that?



Another song I used to sing them myself, now with a mix tape backup. This one is a CLASSIC. I have no idea how many versions of it I'd heard, but until Madeline came around, I'd never thought of it as one I could really sing. I lover her so much.



Yes, you probably recognize this track from previous mix tapes. The girls love it as much as I do, so it got onto their CD.



Another one my father sang to me as a lullaby, and now I sing it to the girls as a lullaby. When I found this version, my heart kind of exploded a little bit. I put it on the list for the girls without their having ever heard it, and now they adore it. Lucky me, they still let me sing in "the bedtime way," when it's time to sleep.



Okay, fine. You're adults. You can deal with it. Here's the bonus track that ran through my head every time this mix played, despite M trying to keep it away from the kids. You're welcome.

Taking a Tour on the Blogosphere Bus

I met the fabulous Lisa Petty, of Petty Thoughts, at Blog U, dancing like a maniac. Or maybe it was me dancing like a maniac. At any rate, she's fantastic. And she invited me to be part of an ongoing blog tour! I've had a ton of fun at every stop, getting to know different bloggers and their writing styles and processes. It's a been a helluva digital vacation! And now the planes, trains, and automobiles have brought us here- to my stop. So while you take in the lovely Chicago scenery, maybe visit the Field Museum and eat a veggie dog on the back steps, I'll tell you all about what I do.



What Am I Working On?
I'm still fiddling with my memoir (excerpt here), and increasingly desperately trying to get a literary agent. The fact is, selling a memoir is hard, unless you're a celebrity. And sadly, having a few enormously viral blog posts does not a celebrity make. Aside from that, I'm writing here, on the blog, and I'm working on a super secret project I can't talk about right now, but that will no doubt make me wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.

How Does My Work Differ From Others Of Its Genre?
The memoir? It differs from others of its genres by somewhat defying genres. It's a story of the many ways our brains can try to destroy themselves, with tumors or poisons or chemical imbalances. But more, it's a true story about the power of love bold enough to stand defiant in the face of death. It's a love story, and an offer of comfort to anyone suffering from mental illness who ignores their own pain as immaterial or unreal. It's about surviving a death sentence, and collapsing under the weight of freedom. I'm not sure I've ever read a memoir with those particular themes.


Why Do I Write/Create What I Do?
I can't not write. I moved to Chicago for art school twelve years ago. And when the dean of the Art Institute welcomed us to the school, he said most of us would never work making art. Very nearly none. "So if you can do anything else, do that," he said. And it stuck with me, because I could. I dropped out of the Art Institute because I knew I could do something else. But there is one thing I can't stop doing. Since I wrote my first poem at age five, I cannot stop writing. Haiku, novellas, short stories, slam poems, fiction, and nonfiction... whatever is happening in my life, I am compelled to continue writing. Lucky me, the blogosphere is welcoming to folks with my particular writing handicap- namely, an addiction to an audience.

How Does Your Writing Process Work?
I'm a follower of Earnest Hemingway's methodology. "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." I sit down to write, and I write until it's done. I ignore my children, I don't eat, I don't get up to use the bathroom. I just sit and write and write and write. Sometimes, I get an idea for a post or a chapter or a poem when I'm not at my computer. I turn it over in my head a while, coming up with phrases I like, examining the sides of the issue, or my perspectives on it, and then when I sit down to write I jump around a bit, make sure I hit all the salient points. But for the most part, I just sit and write.


...and that was the Becoming SuperMommy stop on the Blogosphere Express!



Let me introduce you to your next stops!

Celeste McLean is the writer behind the widely unread blog Running Nekkid, where she writes about grief, mental health, and her Pacific Islander ancestry. She left her tropical paradise island home twenty years ago and has been trying to figure out how to go back ever since. She currently lives in Seattle with her husband where they raise two children and tolerate one very demanding cat.

Get a feel for her by reading a few posts before you get to her station. Big Hair No Pants is a heartbreaking and beautiful tribute to her father. Then read For Ian, a Memory, which is an equally beautiful love letter written back before her husband was her husband. They are utterly marvelous posts, and your day will be inexpressibly richer for having read them.

Tamara Woods was raised (fairly happily) in West Virginia, where she began writing poetry at the age of 12. Her first poetry collection is available at Sakura Publishing and Amazon. She has previous experience as a newspaper journalist, an event organizer, volunteer with AmeriCorps and VISTA, in addition to work with people with disabilities. She has used her writing background to capture emotions and moments in time for anthologies such as Empirical Magazine, her blog PenPaperPad, as a contributing writer for the online ‘zine Lefty Pop, and writing articles as a full-time freelance writer. She is a hillbilly hermit in Honolulu living with her Mathmagician.

Get acquainted with her by reading her dystopian fiction, and watch her read a poem from her book- Hot Comb Self-Deception. It's wonderful.

Melanie is a recovering nerd who has always considered herself a writer, but barely considers herself at all anymore because three kids. She is mom to Moo, Slim and The Geel and is proud to say that so far the kids have fared much better in her house than the houseplants have. The NotsoSuper blog was born out of frustration and the not-so-thrilled feeling she got when she found out she was pregnant with The Geel.

She calls herself the NotsoSuperMom because she does not want to give anyone the false impression that she is trying to "do it all." She's not even trying to do it right. She'd just like to get something--ANYTHING--done. She writes to escape the laundry and to pretend that someone is listening to her. She was recently featured on In The Powder Room and you can find her on facebook and the twitter.

Get to know her delightfully self-depreciating humor in her post, Annie Get Your Gun (or the Night I Almost Shot My Yoga Pants). Then read her beautifully vulnerably post about the day she lost her first grader, Little Moo Lost.

Karyn is a lapsed social worker, work-at-home mom, and one-quarter of Team Pickles. Along with Ben (the thinker), Molly (the doer), and Ian (the Brit), she battles for truth, justice, and the Canadian way in a world where parenting and puns go hand-in-hand. Follow their adventures at PicklesINK and get short bursts of funny on Facebook and Twitter.

To give you an idea of why I'm crazy about Karyn (and it's not just her rock awesome moves to the Spice Girls), start out with her brilliant post- Are You Elsa or Anna? What Frozen Says About Depression. It's beyond insightful. Then for some more parenting depth and conversation on kindness, check out A Passion for Compassion.

Closing Time

Blowing kisses goodbye

It's here. The final Twisted MixTape, at least until the fall comes.

I'm sad. Saying goodbye to a friend sucks. But it's a part of life.

This last mixtape's theme is "Farewell." I thought about putting together a collection of songs that say goodbye, but I'd like to do something else. I'd like to say goodbye to other friends I've had to part from.

So here are goodbye songs for many of my friends from whom I've parted, and a few little stories about our farewells. Because I can't just give you a list of songs. As always, I have to give you a miniature musical biography,

I hope you don't mind.




This first song is for Uncle Brony. Uncle Brony, the first good friend I made when my family moved to Michigan the year I started middle school. He and I made each other mixtapes constantly. That's not really true, he made me mixtapes for every occasion. And from him, I learned the skill. This song was on the tape he made me to listen to in the car when I got my first driver's license. And it's that tape I was listening to the first time I drove on my own, in the car, with my license. As I drove home, I saw him walking down the street. I rolled down the window and waved... hitting a parked car in the process. I'm not sure he noticed I was listening to his tape while he laughed at me. I never really said a proper goodbye when I moved to Chicago. But I love him and think of him often, particularly when I hear this song.



This is for my friend JP. She was in my wedding. We worked together, once upon a time. She was one of my best friends, and then one day... she wasn't. I called her about something, and she ranted at me for half an hour about all the things I'd ever done wrong during our friendship, most of which had never even happened. I was shellshocked. I apologized, and honored her request never to contact her again. I still feel confused and guilty about the whole thing. I still don't really know what happened. I would still love to hear from her again. And if I could sent her a song, it would have been one that managed to convey guilt, and frustration, and confusion, and affection. And this is the only song like that I know.



This is for Aunt and Uncle Texas, who moved. To Texas. And who I think of often, although I see them so rarely. Uncle Texas and my husband were practically married in college. When Uncle Tex got married, M was in the wedding. And he was best man at our wedding. Aunt Tex was a master at making jokes at M's cancer when he was sick, and made herself MVP for my wedding party. They're two of our favorite people in the world, and no matter when or how, we always know we'll see them again. Though I have no doubt Uncle Tex would prefer I picked a Hanson track for him. That's not a joke.



This song is for Sara, Ellen and Krista, the girls I spent all the sunny days of my middle school glory with. We swam in public fountains, danced down city streets, wore crazy clothes and crazier hair, and blissed out on youth and beauty and freedom. I really haven't seen those girls since, but I think of them often and wish them well in everything.



This is for my art school friends. Keeley, Erica, Nichole, Wade, Jesse... the people I spent so much time with in the dorms, painting and crafting and generally complaining about the limitations of our assignments, and who scattered to the winds (and me with them.) I loved those crazy artists. And I hope they're happy doing what they're doing. Lunatics.



For Aunt Blackbird (do you like the name?), who moved away just when we were starting to get so close. Distance never keeps friendship from happening. If there's anything the internet has taught us in the last decade, it's that we can have friendships that have nothing to do with proximity.



For Dynamic Tension, who I spent so long with. Who I bled with, and sewed with, and danced with, and laughed with, and slept in huge exhausted piles of people with. I leave you with this.



This one is for JS. My oldest friend, my best friend. I haven't seen her in almost six years, and that's about how often I do see her. I'm going to make a trip to visit this summer, and keep the streak going. Every six years seems like was too long. It is too long. But we've seen each other ever six years since we were eleven, with a random brief visit or two in between. I always feel a little alone when I think of her, so far away. But I always feel loved and happy at the same time. She's a kind of magical person that way.



For Aunt Vox, who I love and who marches to the beat of her own drum- always. I miss you constantly, and I wish I had a better chance to say goodbye before you left the midwest. And every time you leave it again.



To all my Community High School friends- Cat, Kent, Eric, Nick, Teo... I love you all, and even though I didn't graduate with you, the sappy "graduation song" thing still makes me think of everyone from high school so fondly. I love you all.



Last but not least, goodbye to the Twisted MixTape crew.
I'll miss you.

All My Little Words

A glimpse of my own writing process

I know it's a day late, and I apologize... but this week's Twisted Mix Tape is a doozy.

Really, an enormous challenge.

You see, the prompt is lyrics.

I'm a writer (as you've probably noticed).  And, if you've been reading along and listening along for my own Twisted Mix Tape contributions for the last... months or so... you'll have noticed that lyrics are kind of a big deal to me. I pick them apart. I look at their poetry, at their meaning, their symbolism and their innuendo.

You might not know this, but before I ever started writing this blog, or short stories, or books, or anything else, I was a poet. I still am a poet. And I wrote songs. I appreciate how difficult it is to tread the line between insipid and pithy, and the challenges of putting those words to music.

So- lyrics. How to choose? How to narrow it down to something even borderline acceptable?

You take two whole days staring at your computer, humming in the car, singing to your children, and generally thinking about the songs that speak to you, and why.

A lot of these songs are self referential when it comes to writing, and the process of writing. Because lyrics are written. And a lot of them are melancholy or bleak, because I've always found that there is more that sticks with you when grief or anger or loneliness is exposed than when you find another way to express joy. But even so, it's all worth a listen.

It's all more than worth listening to.

It's all worth savoring and memorizing and scribbling in the margin of notebooks.





Let's start with the act of writing, as poetry itself. No, let's just start with one line. "I've got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains." Sometimes it's the lyrics that make the song. It doesn't matter what beautiful instrumentation or arrangements are behind them. Like so many on this list, picking just one song to represent the amazing oeuvre of songwriting was nearly impossible.



One of the greatest songwriters of all time. Picking just one Bob Dylan song feels like insanity. But I tried. Feel free to start a debate in about which song I ought to have chosen, and please include links. I'd love to have an extra mixtape made by all of you in the comments.



Ani is getting the second spot, because her words have always spoken to me so strongly. It's a strange thing, being a thirteen year old girl. I wasn't fortunate enough to have flawless skin. I was short and busty, big haired, heavy browed, somewhat broad shouldered. I didn't look like a willowly, blond haired, tan skinned Gwen Stefani clone. I didn't look like the girls in the magazines, or on TV. And while part of me understood all the while that it didn't make me ugly, it did make me... not pretty. This is the song that opened the doors to Ani for me. For a few years of my adolescence, "I am not a kitten stuck in a tree somewhere," was my mantra.



Any list of brilliant lyrical songs would be incomplete without Leonard Cohen. His earlier works weren't so much folk songs as they were beat poems to rival Kerouac or Ginsberg, set to music. He's not just a songwriter, he's a Canadian poet laureate.



The 20th century was filled with incredible song writers, who told stories and made jokes. I thought for a long time about putting a Cole Porter song in here, but in a lot of ways Cole Porter was limited. There's a great beauty in the longing in his lyrics to say something more- but he was constrained by the times he lived in. Stephen Trask wrote this number, and if you've never seen Hedwig and the Angry Inch, I can't recommend it highly enough. I don't know what the rest of Stephen Trask's work sounds like, but I'm happy to judge him by one score along. And that by this song.



Bjork is so much more than a writer. She's an inventor, and an artist, and an innovator. But yes, she's also a poet. I love the way she puts words together, and sets them to music without any kind of care about styles and norms. It's a beautiful thing to hear.



I wanted to put in a Beatles song here. I really did. But no matter what I started with, I always came back to this. I love Sir Paul, but John Lennon was the better writer. And this might be his lyrical masterpiece. (Okay, it's a six or seven way tie.)



You know somebody is a genius of a lyricist when you absolutely can't choose. I actually had to pass over "I Am A Rock." I finally settled on American Tune. "I don’t know a soul who’s not been battered, I don’t have a friend who feels at ease, I don’t know a dream that’s not been shattered or driven to its knees"



Songs with lyrics that stay with me, that change me, war protest songs are at the top of the list. But no song has moved me personally so much as this one. It's painful. But it's honesty is moving and jarring and hard. And that's important. That's what good lyrics, great songs, should do.



Another one that stays with you. One of the greatest and saddest and most poignant songs of all time. I include this version, not because it's Billie Holiday singing and she wrote the thing and deserves your everlasting respect and admiration for doing so, but because of this performance. Pole dancing really is evolving into an art, and with a song that is so thoroughly art as "Strange Fruit" for her number... well... it haunted me all over again.



Now that we've covered pain and suffering, let's move to love. And the pain and suffering it entails. If you haven't listened to the Magnetic Fields triple album "69 Love Songs," you're only punishing yourself.



I leave you, at the end of this painfully incomplete and insubstantial list, with Etta James' magnum opus.

Don't Carry It All

For this week's Twisted Mix Tape, I'm sharing the top eleven of my recent playlist.

I know, it sounds boring. But I want to share the fabulous music I've been enjoying day in and day out. And- for the FIRST TIME- most of this is stuff you've probably heard on the radio.

Can you believe it? What's happened to me?

Or maybe, what's happened to the radio? It's like somebody fixed it and it stopped making the obnoxious noises it's been spewing out the last couple of years. (Wow. I'm old.)

And there's some sad news. This is the third to last Mix Tape Tuesday, probably for a long time. So you can bet I'm going to be posting my mixes until the curtain closes on this particular blog hop. I've loved it, I still love it, and I'm going to miss the hell out of it.

So here we are- my current go-to playlist.



First if all, let's be honest. Since the moment the DVD arrived in the mail, Frozen has been on in my house. On a loop. Every minute the children are allowed to sit in front of the TV. And to be honest, I've been letting them sit in front of the TV a lot. Partially because it means my house stays quite a bit cleaner, and partially because... I really like having Frozen on all the time, constantly, in a loop. And while, yes, I've been singing "Let It Go" like it's my job, SI has been going around singing this like it's her job. Which is even awesomer than it sounds.



I *love* Juliana Hatfield. And her last album was absolutely beautiful. And this is my favorite track from it. While the snow has finally melted and the sun has actually shone through my window, this song has seemed really appropriate to me. It's quiet optimism and confidence, especially in that last line... "Patience." It's been the song of March for me.



This song is another one that makes me happy. I've had a lot of ups and downs the last few months, and this song has gotten me through a few of the rough patches. Thanks, Decembrists. You're always there when I need you.



Another gloomy March song. Beautiful, sad, and a little more. Especially with the addition of the absolutely brilliant video. It's all in the last turn of phrase, in the last refrain. And I love songs that turn around and do that to you, GREAT track.



I don't know what suddenly brought this back to the front of my brain, but here it is. And I can't stop singing it, dancing around, and bobbing my head in the car. Maybe it's swapping out my long heavy skirts for shorter ones, and wandering around in my longer jacket. Nah, couldn't be that.



I'm not much of a fan of pop music, in general. But I can't keep myself from liking MS MR. And even more importantly, how can I not love any song with a Harry Potter reference? Plus, the hook has really spoken to me as I've worked day after day on editing my manuscript. "We fear rejection... dream dream dream of perfection." Kind of a writer's mantra, isn't it?



And now for something completely different. Who doesn't like some Toots and the Maytals? (And can somebody please tell me what a Maytal is?)



I could sing along to Adele singing almost unaccompanied all day long. Or rather, I could if my children didn't shush me and tell me they can't hear "Frozen" over my singing of Adele. Either way, recently this song came back up to the top of my playlist, and it's stayed there. And I've very much enjoyed that turn of events.



In the realm of other totally enjoyable earworms, I present Fitz and the Tantrums. And I apologize, now you'll probably be whistling all day.



Last, but the opposite of least. I could listen to this on a loop forever and always be happy about it. I know, loving "Wrecking Ball" was kind of my guilty pleasure. Thank you, Isosine, for totally rocking the mashup and removing any ounce of guilt I had. I can drive around blasting this, singing along, and just feel like a rock star.

We're All Mad Here

One of the lunatics who lives with me

It's time for another Mix Tape Tuesday!

This week's theme? Your life's soundtrack.

I'm taking some liberties.

Imagine if you will, my daily life is a movie. And it's not a very good movie, I'm afraid. It's more a series of montages.

Or something. At any rate, this wouldn't be a very good movie. It certainly wouldn't take home any Oscars. But it would have a great soundtrack.

So here it goes. My day as a montage of montages, set to music.




We open on a bleary eyed SuperMommy, walking back and forth down the hall as she wipes butts, changes diapers, finds shoes, packs lunches, finds lunch boxes, finds socks, puts dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and clean dishes away. Then she shifts gears and starts walking circles around the other end of the house, putting coats on small people, finding hats, mittens, scarves, backpacks, sunglasses, boots, etc.


Cut scene to...


From the moment we step into the car this music starts playing. The children bounce with all their might as we idle in the car, waiting for it to warm up. They bounce all the way to preschool. They bounce while I unbuckle RH from her car seat. During the bridge they run up to the preschool, I help them remove all their winter gear and then turn around and go back to the car. During the drive home again, RH throws her hands in the air and bounces in the fashion of her big sisters.



SuperMommy walks back and forth across the house again, lugging laundry or putting away dishes. Directly behind her is RH, running to keep up. "Helping" put away dishes, laundry, books. She dusts the floor where SuperMommy sweeps, scattering the piles. She sits down and plays with a ball, and SuperMommy sits at the computer to write. Repeat.



SuperMommy picks up the kids from school, she drags them screaming to the car. She urges them up the hundreds of miles of stairs back to the apartment. She disrobes them again. She puts them into bed. She finally eats, in bed, watching DS9. She briefly falls asleep.



The children run. They run from the kitchen to the dining room and back again. They run in circles around SuperMommy, who vaguely shoos them towards the TV. They jump on the couch and throw goldfish crackers in the air. SuperMommy shoos them to the playroom, where they remove every single toy from its bin. They dress in tutus and feather boas and resume running. In a desperate ploy to keep them quiet for downstairs neighbors, she urges them to race each other crawling, and all three children bear crawl back and forth down the hall in tutus and feather boas.



SuperMommy boils water while steaming vegetables and making sauce. The children continue running in circles. They take turn covering SuperMommy in necklaces and hats. SuperMommy sets the table, forces the children to sit down and eat. Stands up to get cups of water. Stands up to get a banana. Stands up to clear the table. Puts the kids in the bath. Puts the kids in pajamas. Oversees toothbrushing. There is much screaming as bedtime approaches. Fortunately, all the viewer sees is pantomimed misery set to the cheerful strains of Belle and Sebastian.



The children take turns walking like zombies to and from the bathroom, demanding nails be trimmed and additional hugs, making requests regarding obscure toys never before cared for but now essential. SuperMommy follows in a trance, surrupticiously eating marshmallows and updating Twitter.



M comes home, and in a rush we make dinner, clear the table from the kids' dinner, put our food onto plates, then climb into bed and eat it while watching the previous night's Daily Show and Colbert Report, laughing and poking each other the whole time.


We both pass out with the lights still on, and the movie fades to black.


FIN

I Can't Be New

This will always be hilarious to me.

It's time for another Twisted Mix Tape, and this week, it's a dealer's choice.

That means I get to pick my own theme. And what a theme it is.

Have you noticed how many songs from your teen years just DEFINED them? But what about other times in your life? Are there any good songs that sort of say, "Hey, I'm an adult! How the hell did THAT happen?"

Yes, actually there are.

So I present to you, a mix of songs that represent an awareness of adulthood. Maybe not exactly anthems, but still... songs that I relate to more and more as I realize that yes, I'm actually an adult.

Enjoy!



I think that having children changes you. Not in the big, scary ways you worry about in the beginning. In lots of smaller, subtler ways. There's something in the lyrics that aren't so much sad, as wistful. When I was a kid I thought this song was sad. Now, I don't. Now I see it as observational, bittersweet. "I've been afraid of changing..." It's not the same thing as "I am afraid of changing." Not I associate much more with the next words. "But time makes you bolder."

That it does.



I'm afraid I can't actually find decent video of Susan Werner singing this song, so we'll have to make do with this lovely (and very true to the original) cover. M and I have been together about eight years now. I know, that doesn't seem like very long to a lot of people. But it's a pretty darn long time. We've been together for more than a quarter of our lives. And that's a significant chunk of change. This is a love song for somebody who you've gotten a little older with. A lovely one, at that.



Yes, for Valentine's Day I got my husband furniture. And we nag each other to eat healthy and get exercise. Because these are important things. And because when you're not a kid anymore, you aren't just magically always at the peak of your health. And life is still wonderful.



Yeah, there's a lot of sadness in being the responsible adult in your child's life. And you do it because there is also so much joy. I can't tell you how many times I've looked at my children, loving them so hard that I could feel for a few minutes was a wracking guilt that life would someday be unkind to them.



The line that gets me the most about this song is, "...on what looks like to me, my mother's hand." About her own hand, of course. It's about finding peace and happiness in life that you didn't expect, in things that seemed too simple and too mundane to be important ten years ago. I love - love - this song.



I know, Freddie Mercury doesn't exactly scream "responsible adult." But this song kind of does. Realizing that you have to work for things to get them, and that you've done a lot of that, and that you've earned whatever success you have. That's a pretty grown-up kind of self awareness.

Can't Get Enough

Six years ago this month, my amazing husband-to-be completed a Herculean task.

He burned hundreds of CDs, and labeled them all with individualized labels. Those labels had the names and tables (named for our favorite restaurants) of every guest at our wedding.

Very few of these songs were explicitly "mine" or "his." They are really, fundamentally, all "our songs." When you're as obsessed with mix tapes as I am (and I'm very surprised if you haven't noticed by now how seriously I take them), you don't marry somebody who doesn't take their music just as seriously. You marry somebody who's just as dedicated to the perfect song choices, the perfect order, the perfect MIX.

So what was on the CD?

For this week's Twisted Mix Tape Tuesday I present to you, without further comment, our wedding CD.

Enjoy!

A Lifetime of Coping #DayofLight

Your truly, at fifteen or sixteen.

I write, and have written, a lot about depression. About living with it, about overcoming it...

There are a lot of things to say on the subject. But it can be hard.

I struggled with depression as a kid, which led to my self harm and eventual suicide attempt.

After my second pregnancy, I had crippling DMER and PPD.

I've coped with depression my entire adult life.

I coped with it, and I know how it feels. How it feels impossible to just answer passing questions like, "How are you?" or "What's up?" I know how hard it can be to accept your feelings, as you're feeling them, instead of ignoring them and pretending they don't exist. I know how hard it can be to feel completely alone, consumed by your own grief at absolutely nothing.

I also know there is help out there. And I urge anyone going through anything like this, depression or PPD or PTSD or a bipolar episode or anything, to reach out to the people who want to help you. To the Helpline. To your friends, your family. To anyone and everyone.

Sometimes coping is eating a whole bag of marshmallows.
Really.

Even if all you do is tell them you need help, that's a huge step. It's an important step. It is a step that heals all by itself.

Not completely, but a little.

The first time I realized I was depressed I was eight years old- I've been coping ever since. And some days it's as easy as listening to some Pink Floyd and sweeping the floor. Some days, it's sitting in a heap of dust bunnies and crying while my children watch Super Why.

Coping happens every day, but it happens. And that's what counts.

Get help. Reach out. And then it doesn't feel so much like coping. Then it feels like real life. And when that happens?

You're know you're going to be okay.

Gotta Get Up

Twins were as fine an excuse as any, but this is me every morning.

I'm the sort of lady who can really use a push to get going in the morning. That's why I have a FIVE HOUR play list on my computer of songs that help me do just that.

Yeah, that's not a joke. I don't function without the right tunes.

Of course a lot of them are show tunes. And of course a lot of them are Flogging Molly. But I've pulled out the creme de la creme of the five hours of motivational music that keeps me going to give you this little list.

Yeah, show tune and Flogging Molly free.

I hope you're not too disappointed.

On to the music!!!




First and foremost, nobody seems to get me like Jill Scott when it comes to a lack of motivation. She understands. I just want to stay in and play video games. I don't want to do anything. But...

And, thanks to her most excellent music, it's a little easier to deal. And to come up with the energy.



Waking up isn't the only thing I need to be motivated to do. Sometimes, working hard at being BETTER at something seems like an impossible task. That's when I sit around and stare into space and listen to Rahzel beatbox and sing at the same time. Seriously, if you have never heard him accomplish this feat, start the video at 2:40 and place a cushion underneath you for when your jaw hits the floor.

Watching (or listening to) people being absolutely amazing at something kind of wondrous makes me want to be kind of amazing at absolutely anything. And that's a pretty good motivator.



This is a song for those middle of the day doldrums. When you need a pick-me-up because all your motivation has dwindled down to a little below nothing. When you, ahem, stutter out. Plus it's a totally pleasant earworm.



But if I just need a sort of adrenaline shot to the brain, I put on this song. Why? Because I can't hear it and not sing it. And I can't sing it and not perform it. So that stuff you see Freddie Mercury doing? That's me, in the car, every time the classic rock station decides to throw me a bone. Or whenever M wants to make me super happy on long car drives. Or when I've got five baskets of clean laundry to fold.



Sometimes it's hard to be motivated about doing the same thing you do every single day, over and over again. For me, this song helps me out. Sort of a happy mantra and a little reminder- I do really want to do pretty much everything I do. I'm incredibly lucky. It's just easy to forget that when you're tired and/or under-motivated.



Last but not least, general life motivation. I know, I know, this is hokey and dated and cheesy and everybody who graduated from high school in the latter half of the nineties put this on a mix tape for all their friends to take to college blah blah blah shuddup. This song is awesome. It makes me feel good about absolutely everything in my life, and reminds me that this is just a tiny piece of the whole. So who cares how hokey it is? Not me. Even if now I'm nodding along and smiling with totally different parts than I was fifteen years ago.

Maybe in another fifteen years it will be a different collection of pearls of wisdom from this gem that will make me feel motivated and happy on bad days.



Okay, you got me. One more.

I sing this as a lullaby to my kids. And I sing it to myself when I'm down in the dumps. Because of all of it.

Hang on, little tomato. Hang on.

99 Problems

My little trooper

I had a post nearly finished for this week's Twisted Mix Tape. It was fun, a "feel better" mix for my sister, who is SWAMPED with her Ph.D. work and also just had her tonsils out.

And then I had to put it all on hold to take my four year old to the emergency room, with an apparent asthma attack.

She was SUCH a trooper.

So when I FINALLY got home at half past midnight, the last thing I was going to do was to finish a mix for Aunt Genocide. Don't get me wrong, I love her, but DD's need was greater.

So without further ado- a "Feel Better" mix for my wheezing daughter.



Because I am a good, kind mother, I expose my children to They Might Be Giants on a regular basis. In fact, recently DD told me her FAVORITE movie was "Here Come the ABC's" (thanks Aunt Ginger!). She and SI love this song, but until today they'd never seen it Tiny Tuned up.



I am certain that every child caught the "What's the Fox Say?" bug a few months ago. Mine were no exception. But unlike many parents, an answer struck me. "I know what the fox says!" I told them. "The fox says, OO DE LALLY!" (Coincidentally, the fox ALSO says "Long live King Richard!")



I don't know why exactly, but DD loves this song. She LOVES this song. And I have no objections. And it's nice for me, because it's been a while since I could look at Sarah McLachlan without immediately feeling a weird surge of dog related guilt.



DD never got over her Psy fever.



Another song that DD loves loves LOVES is Shalom Aleichem. And because she's a good girl, she likes it better with a little rock behind it. I'm so proud.



I'm a good mother. I expose my children to all the essential classics. DD is partial to this little number. Even if she generally prefers watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers ("She has such a pwetty dwess!"), whenever I sing this one, she starts kicking her feet around like mad. You know, tap dancing.



Ever since she was six months old, DD has LOVED this song. Recently, I've had to actually start playing the clean version, which is garbled nonsense. But let's face it, she's not listening for the lyrics. She's listening because she can bounce around to it. And honestly... that's why most people listen to music in the first place.


And one extra.


Nothing keeps this kid down.
I love her so much.

History Repeating

Me and my fat pants

This week's Twisted Mix Tape is... dance!

Well, not exactly. You see, this week's prompt came from a blogger who's brother died. He was a DJ, and this week it's kind of an honorarium to him.

When I first started hearing the term "DJ" thrown around, I picture Vince Fontaine from Grease. Because when you're ten years old and you watch Grease a million times (without once picking up that half the songs are WILDLY inappropriate for a kid your age to be singing along to) you kind of accept faux 50's lingo as canon.

Fortunately, my family moved to Ann Arbor, close enough to Detroit for me to learn better. I got to spend half a decade listening to music with kandy kids, kitty flippers, and other assorted ravers who set my head right about the rich cultural and musical history of the title.

So without further ado, my mix tape- an ode to DJs and dance music.



Everything about this song. Everything about this video. From the visual context for the uninitiated about what a DJ does, to the incomparable Ms. Bassey. Spectacular hook. Spectacular mixing. Just... brilliant everywhere.



The video. Oh, the video. Dance music is one of those things where generally speaking, the lyrics are minimal, vague, and sort of pointless. This is good, because when a DJ gets his hands on the vinyl he's going to chop the song into tiny pieces. Sample bits, fade in and out- you don't really get techno or dance songs with narratives. But that leaves the videos open for wild and brilliant interpretations. I could make a top ten of official videos alone. The best part of this is that it sears the feel of the video into your mind, and you forever associate the song's ambient quality with the feeling of the story of the video. So good.



As I was saying, the songs are kind of a blank canvas. There are so many spectacular dance hall tracks- heavily sampled and with repetitive hooks and beats that you bob your head to no matter where it's playing. But there's a lot of variety in the music. And as the music is a blank canvas, fans are forever painting on it. I went to art school, and I cannot even begin to count the number of music videos people made to dance and techno songs. For totally unrelated assignments even- I had a friend in fashion design deliver his final portfolio in the form of a music video to a techno track, filmed with models wearing his dresses out on the pier by Bryn Mawr. And he got an A.



He wasn't the only art school kid to make brilliant music videos of his favorite songs, obviously. This girl... wow. Just wow. She makes me like Daft Punk, despite the Daft Punk. And I mean Daft Punk previous to their disco revival. Because I think we can all agree that "Get Lucky" was a spectacular track, and we can also all agree that it has almost nothing whatsoever in common with the bulk of Daft Punk's previous work. But I would watch this video a million times.



As I was saying... Techno. It can be art. And I don't mean that just the videos can be art. I mean the music ITSELF can be art. This techno track is a MASTERPIECE, by the same twisted mind that came up with Come to Daddy. And while Richard D. James is a virtuoso of a DJ, he's far from alone.



Richie Hawtin, aka Plastikman. As I mentioned before, we lived not too far from Detroit. And Detroit is where techno became techno. And one of the geniuses behind it was this guy. I mean, Richie Hawtin played the Guggenheim. This isn't just some dance hall DJ, this is an ARTIST. That said, art that starts underground and gets people bouncing and moving around in huge enclosed spaces that are generally occupied illegally... well... They have their own certain flavor. And as many of the techno fans of the Detroit area can attest, Plastikman cultivated his own flavor- to the point where his most iconic CD was best known for its liner notes- perforated blotter paper, each square printed with his logo. And just in case that was too subtle for you, I'm gong to clue you in. Blotter paper is one of the most common methods for dispensing LSD. So if you were a party kid in Detroit in the 90s, chances were very high that somebody you knew was carrying a CD case full of acid, each hit emblazoned with the Plastikman.



Living near Detroit and befriending many of the aforementioned party kids, I was fortunately enough to be introduced to an unbelievable wealth of spectacular music. This is what I generally think of as gateway techno. The Orb. So lovely.



But this isn't just a techno list, this is a DANCE list. And no dance list can be complete without the 90s classics. Can't hear this without bobbing my head. Okay, fine, I can't hear this song without dancing my freaking butt off. Badly. Happy now?



Fortunately, and simultaneously unfortunately, dance music is seeing a sort of resurgence these days. It's a shame because that means there's a lot of straight up crap on the radio. But it's good, because it means that the parts of my brain that just want to stop thinking and dance have such nice things to listen to.



Then of course, there are times I want to dance AND use my brain. So thank you, DJ Rap, for combining a little bit of pop philosophy and motivational speaking with your phat beats.


And here- a bonus track:


Yeah, I know, not only did I START with the Propellerheads, I even started with a track from THIS ALBUM. But you know what? 007 is an important part of my life. Laugh all you want, it's true. M and I spent two weeks honeymooning in New Zealand in the middle of winter- at the northernmost tip of the north island. So while during the day it was generally 80 and sunny and we had access to a deserted beach and a gorgeous beach house, many days it was dark and rainy, because, winter. So we split our honeymoon between gorgeous Pacific relaxation, and curling up in the beach house with a Bond movie marathon. We've been totally hooked ever since. We've seen all of them. So many times we occasionally have debates about which are the worst silhouettes in the opening sequence. That's how far we've picked these movies apart. I'm a Dalton fan, he's a Connery purist. At any rate, this track? It's a love letter to Bond movies. It's almost entirely sampled from the iconic Bond themes. And it is most likely the best thing ever to come from On Her Majesty's Secret Service. Dear God, that movie was awful.

Dagger Teeth Tightrope Pagan Shop

I'm linking up with Twisted Mix Tape Tuesday again! This week's theme? New music- from 2013. Not all of this is "new," per se, but it's either new to me or there's something new about it that has to do with 2013, so... there you have it.

So let's get to it!



Lorde. I feel like I don't need many more words than that, but I'm going to go ahead and use a few anyway. I think Lorde is brilliant. I think she extraordinarily talented. In a lot of ways, her first album reminds me of Fiona Apple's "Tidal," dripping with potential while still spectacular. And while I am crazy about her big hit, I think this is the album's strongest track.



First of all, yes, I know this song is pushing the decade mark. But if I had to pick a few songs to sort of define 2013 (and it seems very much that's what I'm doing) The Fratellis have to be on the list. My husband got me hooked on them this year, but more importantly, THIS SONG was something you simply could not escape through the first half of 2013 if you lived in Chicago. And every single time you heard it, it came with a smug satisfaction that the Blackhawks were crushing it night after night on the ice. So if you enjoy hockey, and you live in Chicago, by this point this song is practically part of your ego.



So when this album came out in 2010, I was impressed, and then I didn't buy it. Because I was busy having toddlers and going to school and a million freaking things. So I kind of forgot about Jannelle Monae, until last year she came out with this new album, and I heard a few tracks and said, "Oh yeah, she is AWESOME!" and finally picked up this album, which I've listened to pretty much nonstop ever since. No, I still don't have the new one. I'll wait until she releases another one and just always be an album behind. Or you could always get it for me from my Amazon wish list for my birthday. Hint hint, M. Hint hint.



Yes, I know Macklemore and Ryan Lewis actually released this at the end of 2012, but I don't care. And no matter how many great and still underrated tracks there are on this album (seriously- have you listened to "Wing$" yet?), this is going to be my favorite, if only for the dozens of times I've watched my husband perform the entire thing in the car. At this point, the only song I've seen him do more often is "Bombs over Baghdad," and both of them should REALLY be immortalized on film.


This next one is a twofer.



This video came out before M and I even moved in together. and I was freaking crazy about it. I love everything about it. I thought it was BRILLIANT. And as far as I know, this wasn't on television anywhere, because the band... sort of kind of didn't exist yet. Really, this was a project the costumer, director, animator, and musician did for their art school- but they loved doing it, and said they were going to do more. So, being the kind of psychopath who does this sort of thing, I made a note of the band (Lolly Jane Blue) and held out hope that someday I'd run into them again. And wouldn't you know? In 2013 they FINALLY released their first EP, now as Jane Blue and the Hunters. And it is TOTALLY different. And totally awesome.

Brand New Day

That's me- dressed to sing madrigals at Faire
In other words, I am a musical theater nerd.

This week on Mix Tape Tuesday, the theme is... whatever I want it to be! So you can bet I'm finally going for a theme that I hold back on EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Musicals.

Why do they have such a bad rep? Why is it that musical theater is relegated to the deepest, darkest corners of geekdom? I can come out and say for all to hear that I FUCKING LOVE VOYAGER and that the Delphic Expanse is the scariest shit in the entire Star Trek universe... but I can't get some love for some show tunes?

Honestly, geeks. Shut up and dance. And I mean, with choreography. Put on your freakin' tap shoes.

Here, for your enjoyment, are my favorite songs from my favorite musicals. Enjoy the hell out of them.




First up- some Sondheim. A little info on the song and the scene. "A Little Night Music" is all about missed opportunities, sexual tension, regrets, and longing. The only character who is happy with her life and lot, who doesn't pine for the past and weep in the present... is this one. She's a servant, and she doesn't give a crap about all the drama going on with her employers and their crazy relationships. She's a realist. And I love her life's philosophy.



This song makes me cry but HARD. Not only is it one of the sweetest love songs I know, but as with all musicals, the killer is context. This is the second appearance of the song in the play. The first time is when Angel and Collins fall in love. They sing this song to each other, in a happy, upbeat, gleeful way. When Angel dies, Collins sings the same song- he's saying that her death changes nothing. That not even death can change the way he feels. Oh- and the coat he's carrying... that coat was the first gift she ever gave him.

My first words when I walked out of the theater after seeing the film adaptation was, "Well, that was a pop culture abortion."* This scene still slays me.



Let's get happy for a minute. What? You've never heard of Dr. Horrible's Singalong Blog? Where have you been?!? Maybe there's a funnier, quirkier, more delightful bit of actually tragic musical storytelling out there. If you find it, let me know.

While we're on the subject of pure entertainment...



Oh, Angela Lansbury. How I love you. I love a good burn, and this song is just the most morbid ways Sondheim could come up with to make fun of people of different professions. "The problem with Poet is how do you know it's deceased?" HA!



While we're being morbid, let's get a little more serious. If you haven't heard of this show CHECK IT OUT. It is spectacular. It's essentially a biography of Andrew Jackson, told as a rock opera. This number is an account of his systematic persecution of Native Americans. The staging is chilling. And of course, each "little Indian" is a metaphor for the different actions Jackson took against native people.

Keeping it serious...



About once a week, I need a good cry. And I almost always go for a musical. This song- this song will do it. Most adaptations of brilliant books don't hold up. This is a HUGE exception. The Color Purple is devastating. And the play... Through the whole thing, Celie is just crapped on all over by life. Her father rapes and impregnates her and then takes the baby away- probably to kill it- TWICE. He sells her to a horrible, abusive man. He threatens her sister, who then disappears into Africa. And then, finally, somebody rescues her. A woman saves her from her abuser, and they fall in love. Then one day that woman tells her she's leaving for a teenaged boy. Celie, who's spent nearly the entire play curled over herself, singing softly and meekly and fearfully cringing from everyone on the stage... she stands up and sings THIS.

And I weep inconsolably.



In addition to being SUPER upset whenever source material is crapped all over in a reproduction, I get ridiculously upset when something is taken out of context to give it a totally new meaning. Every time I hear this song in a car commercial, a little piece of my soul dies.

This is NOT a happy song. The premise of this scene (the finale) is that Berger sneaks into the barracks to replace his friend for an afternoon so he can spend a little time with his girlfriend before he's shipped off to Vietnam. Only orders come while he's there, and Berger is shipped off in his place, and he dies in Vietnam. "Let the Sun Shine" is a call for peace in the midst of a culture of death.

Whenever I hear this song, I cry. And that makes me all the angrier that I'm crying at ads for sandwiches or Labor Day sales.



Back to happy! One of the many reasons I hate Disney's Cinderella is that I grew up on Rogers and Hammerstein's version. Which is superior in every conceivable way. Music being the first and foremost.



While we're on the subjects of musical numbers I love because of my own life being filled with musicals... The Mystery of Edwin Drood. I used to audition with this song. It is NOT EASY. There are about a million key changes in there, and it's so simply orchestrated- really lets the soloist stand out. (Can you tell why I love it?) And that last phrase... so many key changes in one sentence. What a great finale. So Bond.



Oh, how I love this musical...

Whenever I need a pick-me-up. If I'm down in the dumps, or over exhausted, or hungry, or anything... the cast of the Book of Mormon can pull me out of my sorrows and make me laugh.

And thank you, Church of Latter Day Saints, for advertising all over the Playbill for this musical. You guys are real sports.



--------
*Those words exactly.

My Farewell to Blogger Idol

My first impulse upon being eliminated from Blogger Idol was instant acceptance. I had known it was coming. That's what happens when you dedicate the majority of your emotional and intellectual energy elsewhere so late in the game. And I have no regrets, I was doing something I believed was important, and I think I may have actually helped someone in doing that. So I'm proud of myself.

My second impulse was to use the link a friend sent me, about a million times. That actually made me laugh my butt off.

Third, I blamed my husband. After all, his advice guided the post that eliminated me, and he has minced no words over the last several months about how much he dislikes this competition. On top of that, my elimination means he gets beard grooming supplies, and he's always been very beard-proud.

That was when I found out I'd actually tied for the lowest score (or second highest, whichever), and I got angry. Or maybe hangry, who knows.

As soon as I realized I was going through my stages of grief backwards, I did what I always do to make myself feel better about life. I ate and pouted. Simultaneously.

First a bag of marshmallows. Yes, the whole bag.

Then I made a double batch of chocolate marzipan cookies.

Then I had a deep friend food fest at my favorite pizzeria. And a nice cup of hot tea.

And then I saw the Desolation of Smaug, ate a bunch of peanut m&ms, and drank a giant slurpee. But I was still bummed out.

So I curled up in my nice warm bed with my nice warm husband and ate more spinach and potato pizza and watched the Daily Show.

And then I realized what had been missing from my process... music.

And so I will bid adieu to Blogger Idol the same way I started... with a song.



So long, Blogger Idol. It's been awesome.

******

I want you to know, that I'm happy for you

I wish nothing but the best for you both

A better writer than me

Are you funnier than me

Would you climb up a tree with a hatchet

Do you write eloquently

And do you have three babies

Or do you write funny stories about your pets  

'cause the votes were for me but a tie wasn't able

To make it enough for me to be Blogger Idol, no

And every time I write a post

Nobody will judge it and tell me

How much it sucks, or it rocks

I'm not in the finals

And I'm here to remind you

Of eleven bloggers who went away

You'll battle for the grand prize

And the new Blogger Idol will be crowned

Go, go, go kick some ass

You judge very well, all the blog posts

I don't write as well, or I'd still be there

Did you forget about me Mr. Manderstanding

Daddy's in Charge wanted me to win the contest

A grin's been slapped on my face because I got to third place

and now we'll find out which blogger i  s the best

'cause you judges are nuts and you sit on your butts

telling us to write stories about being arrested, oh

And every week we'd laugh so hard

We freak out every Tuesday and beg for votes

'til we won, but I lost

I had a good time

And I'm here to remind you

Of the fun I had in Blogger Idol

Best of luck in the Finals

I'll  be judging there like Simon Cowell

You, you, you oughta know

There can be only one

Real Life Parenting

or Mid life at the oasis

'cause the jokes that we made made us laugh every day

And I'm not gonna lose

all of the memories with my new friends, and you know it

And every time I hear that song in some elimination

I'll still hate it...well we all hate it

and I'm here to say Thank You

To my lovely readers who vote for me

You're the best people ever

You got me so far and showed so much love

You, you, you oughta know

and I'm here to say Thank You

To my lovely readers who vote for me

You're the best people ever

You got me so far and showed so much love

You, you, you are the best