10 Things I Need To Remember

Sometimes I need to remember....

1. This will be the only summer they are 6, 5, and 3.
2. 97 cents is an amazing deal on a beach ball that entertains them for hours.
2a. They will play with those expensive toys again soon.
3. Mud washes off with a little bit of soap and water.
4. Sand vacuums out of carpets when tracked in by little feet.
5. Catching bugs that creep me out is a good way to show how God gives us strength to face those fears...
5a. and learn about nature in a real hands-on way.
6. Oobleck is messy but not near as grossly messy as gak.
7. Those stained clothes will soon be outgrown.
8. Summer is definitely a shorter season than winter.
9. Late bedtimes just mean more memories
9a. and less time to wake me up at night!
10. This messy family is a dream come true during good times and bad!

Tomato Tomahto

In the past week, I have done 2 canning sessions, resulting in 30 pints of raw-packed tomatoes, following the instructions found at The Bitten Word.

Canning tomatoes this year reminds me of Tina (pronounced TINE-ah) Leonard.

Tina Leonard was a lady in my father's church when I was in the early years of high school.  She raised tomatoes year round - outside in good weather, in hot houses in the bad weather.  They were sold as Leonard Farm tomatoes at the local grocery stores.  And they sold out FAST!
My  mother was in LOVE with Tina's tomatoes.  Not being a tomato fan myself, I can't really tell you what the appeal was, but everybody in 2 counties knew they were the best.

Which is why it was such an honor to be allowed to can tomatoes with Tina.  I honestly don't remember if my mom already knew how to can, but didn't have the stuff, or maybe just didn't know how to do tomatoes?  I remember years and years of canned green beans from 1994 (a bumper crop of beans from my dad's garden), so maybe it was just that we didn't have tomatoes.  Or tomatoes as good as Tina's.

Anyway, one morning, my mom drove my brother and I out to Tina's farm and we spent all day canning tomatoes.  We washed, we diced, we squished, we slopped.  Yep, all tomato rejects and leftovers were carried out to the pigs, my brother and I taking turns with the 5 gallon buckets, slopping the pigs.
Did I mention I wasn't a tomato fan?
At that point in my life, it is more honest to say I really really really didn't like tomatoes.  And I had to squish them, with my bare hands, for almost 2 hours that day.  I remember thinking it was SO GROSS!!  But Tina (and my mother) would tolerate no whiners.  It was tomato canning day, I was there, I was going to help.
We made sauce and salsa, canned tomatoes whole and diced and crushed.  I'm pretty sure we came home with a sampling of everything.

It wouldn't be that big of a memory, except that Tina's life ended tragically not long after that.

And so this morning, I was dicing up another basketful of tomatoes, thinking about how I really don't like tomatoes.  I don't even really like spaghetti sauce anymore.  I KNOW I don't do salsa (Though I have about 10 cups of homemade salsa in the freezer for Mr. Curly).  And yet, here I am, dicing tomatoes, squeezing them into pint jars for canning so that this winter I can make homemade spaghetti sauce (Mr. Curly's favorite and a fun Christmas gift), so I can learn to make pizza sauce (because I LOVE pizza), so I can make more fresh salsa when needed.
And I thought of that day at Tina's farm.  Cringing at the feeling of tomatoes squishing between my fingers, and yet doing it anyway, because it was tomato canning day, and somebody would want those tomatoes.

It was a good lesson.  It was a good day.

Passing on the magic....

As a child, I was pretty solidly in love with Peter Pan.  And that love has endured, even though it has change.  Because now, instead of being the boy I want to run away with, he's just a wonderfully whimsical reminder of childhood magic that I want to bring home and mother.
Peter Pan is still one of my absolute favorite Disney movies.  He's the character I'm most likely going to want to meet if I ever get my kids to Disneyland.

I remember my first prince crush too.  Eric.  You remember Eric from The Little Mermaid, right?  If you say no, I'm not sure we can be friends anymore.
Oh Eric.  Wavy black hair, blue eyes, a sailor....  Definitely a great guy.  Except for that whole marry the sea witch thing.  But who could blame him?  He'd been half drowned when he first saw Ariel!
Yep, he was definitely my first Prince crush.

And here's the whole wonderful point of this blog:

Curly Girl likes the exact same guys!  Peter Pan is her favorite.  She was TinkerBell for Halloween last year, she wants a Neverland room....

When you ask her who her favorite Prince is, her answer is Eric.  And Flynn. She can't decide.  How cute it that?

I never thought my kids and I would watch the same movies and have the same reactions.  I was sure Disney was doomed as I aged and lost interest in their movies.  But nope, on a regular basis we watch Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, Peter Pan, Robin Hood....
My dad just showed the kids Pinocchio.  They thought that was pretty good too.

I love passing that magic on.  Because honestly, who doesn't want to live in that forever?

Snuggle

I just could not bear to part with my children's baby blankets.  My momma's heart just cried at the fact that they were all in boxes in the attic.  My "you have to stop hoarding now!" side was bucking to get rid of those boxes.

The two sides ended up, after a long debate, at a rather lovely compromise.  The baby blankets are out of the attic, hacked to pieces, and yet, still wonderfully usable.

This is a vintage propeller quilt design.  Here it is lying on our full size bed.  It still needs backing and binding, and I want to hand quilt it, but I'm SO in love with it already.

At one point I mentioned to Mr. Curly that it was going to be a "sick blanket," meaning, it would only get used when you were sick.  Because, really, what is more comforting than a baby blanket?  Why a homemade quilt made entirely out of baby blankets of course!

But now that it is done, I just don't know.  It might end up on my bed for awhile.

Deja Vu

It was 5 years ago almost to the day exactly, when I stood looking out our apartment's windows in tears because of the foot of snow on the ground.

Curly Girl was 7 months old.  We had lived in South Dakota for just close to 4 months.  It was April.  It was snowing.

In Kansas, my friends were in shorts.  My dad was planting a garden.  It was spring.

And I was looking at a foot of snow.  And I was depressed.

Tuesday, for those of you who don't follow Iowa weather, we got hit with an ice storm.  Yesterday, we got a few sprinkles, though the ice crackling in the trees made it sound like a huge rainstorm every time you stepped outside.
This morning, Thursday, April 11, we woke up to this:



Snow. 

I'm not crying this time, though it is depressing.  It is supposed to be spring.  I'm trying to coax tomato plants to life in my dining room, and we had tulips coming up.  However, this time, rather than being friendless and 10+ hours from any family, we are in a town, with friends, who are all dealing with the same thing.
And Kansas isn't that much warmer.

And a little bright spot - look at this robin on our fence.  Isn't he the fattest little thing?!

Girl's Day Out

Curly Girl had been begging me for some time with her without the boys, so Saturday we took a Girl's Day out.  We visited a local Art Gallery, ate some frozen custard at Culvers, spent her leftover Christmas money, and then she bought me dinner at McDonalds.  Here are pictures from our Art Gallery Day!

Contemplating blown glass sculptures.  When she heard Papa could do this, and you could watch it be done at Silver Dollar City (where Grandad likes to visit), she insisted we watch a demonstration of this some time!











Curly Girl was sure this really old classical painting (130 years old) was of Mary and Baby Jesus.












They had a hands-on art section where Curly Girl built people out of different blocks.  Some had ears, some eyes.  Some were shaped like duck's bodies or feet. 






And then a Massive Curly Girl was created on the giant dry erase board.

The hands-on section also had a magnet wall, a mirror to do a self-portrait, light up center, 6 foot tall lego house to build on, and computers with art programs.  We spent a majority of our time there.  Perfect place for my little budding artist!

And now, some of our favorite art work.

Curly Girl's favorite, simply titled Horse #36 by Michael Eastman.
Curly Girl wants a copy of this to hang over her bed.

Blush Edge by Keith Jacobshagen (who lived in Wichita, KS before moving to Nebraksa!)

A close up of the elevators - look at that detail in a 6 ft wide painting!

And you're missing it, BOB!!!

Curly Baby is ADORABLE!!!!  The other night, he ran back and forth through the kitchen and dining room with a flashlight, laughing and screaming with delight.  The lights were off and he was chasing monsters!

He does so many cute things.  Things I remember Curly Girl doing.  But for the life of me, I can't remember when Curly Boy did those things.

I sat for awhile, watching Curly Baby, racking my brain for something cute Curly Boy did at that age.  And then I remembered why I draw such a blank of that time (approximately 22 months of age) - When Curly Boy was 22 months old, I was 6 months pregnant.  I spent every night packing up our house, and every weekend travelling a 6 hour round trip to a town in Iowa that we were planning on moving to full time.
I was stressed, I was tired, and we had a whole lot of stuff going on.

It makes me sad.  I feel like so much of Curly Boy's early life was spent with stressed out, worried, busy parents.
It makes me wonder if that isn't why we have the frustrating times where we just can't communicate with him.

It also makes me want to try harder to spend time just with him before he starts preschool next year.  It makes me try to treasure the fun-loving moments and not worry so much about the hard, teaching moments, when I'm sure he's going to hate me forever because I have to lay down the law.

I know he loves me - he tells me that 20 times a day.  I hope we both remember it as he grows.

Post title from The Incredibles.

A little bit of... mambo number five....

So whenever I do this "little bit of everything" posts, I always hear Lou Bega's Mambo Number Five in my head.  You know "I little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side, a little bit of Rita's what I need....."

Is that wrong?
Anyway - on to the picture post!

I took the kids down to KC for a dear friend's wedding.  This was our first stop on our drive.  After 4 hours in the car, we had dropped all our toys, and Momma's insistence that she couldn't reach them while she drove made us all stop for some cookies and milk outside a gas station.

And the apron thing?  First week's apron (the kids love this one, with all the animals!)








And Sunday's apron (from Mr. Curly for Christmas, he particularly likes it with heels)

And my children's new favorite place to play..... No idea why they thought this was the best place for the train set - but they were quiet and having fun while I cooked and Curly Baby destroyed our bookshelves!

And because you can't have mambo number five with only four pictures.....

The car my friend drove his new bride away from the church in!

Can she bake a cherry pie?

Point of fact, Billy Boy - I have never baked a cherry pie. Though I have made cherry poptarts using pie crust and HOME CANNED cherries, so that is pretty darn close.

Yesterday was President's Day.  True to my new "I'm a stay at home mom so we should celebrate very holiday on the calendar" the kids and I discussed George Washington and the cherry tree.

This was actually a pretty awesome thing.  Curly Girl has begun lying, and I'm not sure how to deal with it, so we read the story of George Washington and the Cherry Tree (that I found at www.first-school.ws).  After reading it, Curly Girl and I discussed what little George Washington said, and how he DIDN'T get in trouble because he told the truth.  I asked Curly Girl what we should so when asked a question and she said "Say, I cannot tell a lie?"  Which isn't exactly where I was going with it, but is pretty close.

We also printed out the cherry tree picture found with the legend, glued construction paper cherries to the tree, then stood the whole picture up using a toilet paper tube and a paper straw from Ted's (one of Mr. Curly and my's absolute favorite restaurants in the whole entire world that we never get to eat at).

And, as an ode to my  mother and my childhood, we made George Washington dessert.  It is kind of like cherry cake, only it isn't.  It is a recipe I brought home in first or second grade written on super-wide ruled paper and blue construction paper.  My mom kept that paper, AND knew exactly where it was when I called asking for the recipe.

Next point of fact - my mom rocks.

George Washington Dessert:
2 cans cherry pie filling (we used one large store-bought can and my one last home-canned can of cherries)
Curly Boy poured the cherries, Curly Girl spread the cherries, they both enjoyed licking the can and spatula
1 box white cake mix
Curly Girl poured the cake mix, Curly Boy helped spread it
2/3 cup butter, melted (about 11 tablespoons for those of you measuring out your blue bonnet sticks)
I did this step by myself.

Spread the cherry pie filling in a 13x9 pan, cover cherry pie filling with box mixed (just the powder you pour out of the bag), cover with melted butter.  Bake at 375 for 35-40 minutes.

Out comes a bubbling, cakey, cherry dessert that is FANTASTIC.  The kids and I are VERY excited to share it with Mr. Curly.

Point of fact three - Mr. Curly doesn't like cherries, but I'm sure he'll try this recipe when Curly Girl says "Look what I baked for you, Daddy!"  He's a sucker for that.

Remnants of my teenage rebellion

While getting Curly Boy dressed the other day, he looked at me and said "I love your ring, Mommy."  I thought he meant my wedding ring and replied "Thank you, your daddy bought it for me."  Then he says "The one in your ear."
"Oh, you like my earrings?  Thank you!"
We get the shirt over his head and he says "You're missing one."  He's looking from ear to ear.  "This ear is missing one."  He says again.
So I explain - No, it's supposed to be this way.  I don't have 4, just 3, two in my left ear, one in my right.

Once he runs off to play, I go to Mr. Curly, who had been at the breakfast table and heard the whole conversation and say "I never thought I'd have to explain that to my kids.  Don't they get that I grew up in the '90s when this was cool?"

Which is not entirely true.
I actually didn't get the third piercing until 2001, the year I turned 19, after my first year of college.

I had to drive my dad to our dentist, 3 hours away from our home, and while he was at the dentist, I went to the mall and had them add one piercing to my left ear. 

I had read a book in my early teenage years where a girl had her ears pierced like this, and always thought it was cool.  And at the time it was done, I didn't know anybody else who had done it - it made me feel unique!

My father wasn't too happy, he had told me not to pierce my ears again (he didn't like the first set) and I responded that I hadn't pierced my ears, I had pierced AN ear.  (And really, at 19, is this rebellion?  I always was a good-two-shoes!)

When I explained this to Mr. Curly he laughed, because he had never noticed I didn't have that piercing when he first met me.  A few months after I added this one, we started dating, and for all he knew, I had always had lopsided ears.  To his credit, when I very first met him, I generally had a fake loop (one of those made to make it look like you had a lip-ring) in the exact place I got my ear pierced.

I've explained to many many people over the years that, no, I didn't lose an earring, I did this on purpose.
And I'm still glad I did.

For awhile, the piercing just held a loop, then, for many ears, I wore an earring from my wedding in it.
After Curly Boy was born however, I asked for a mother's earring.  I'm not much of a ring person (I generally just wear my wedding ring, and sometimes a ring that my dad brought me from Guatemala), but I always have earrings in - especially in this third hole.  In fact, I'll leave an earring in there, even while I don't have earrings in the others.
Anyway, back to the mother's earring - Mr. Curly went and bought the metal for the hoop, some separating beads, a set of sapphire beads (Curly Girl's birthstone) and a set of clear beads (to represent Curly Boy's diamond birthstone) and created a Mother's Earring for me.

I ADORE it.  When Curly Baby was born the day after Curly Boy's birthday, I dug out the remaining beads and added one for him.

Some day I'd like to have one with real stones in it, but as we always say around our Curly Household - I'm the reason we don't have nice things.

Don't ask how many nice earrings I've lost, watches I've ruined, pretty expensive knickknacks that have been broken because of me - the saying makes sense.

So there we go, my kids have reached an age where I now have to explain the choices I made as a teenager.  Life is going to be interesting.

Curly Dinner Theater

We made homemade pizza last night.  This in and of itself is no big deal, we do that at least once a week.  The Curly Kids love it.  They like helping measure out to make the dough (if they're awake, lots of times this step is done during nap time), they like putting the toppings on, they enjoy sitting in front of the oven watching the pizza bake, and they love eating the pizza.

Last night was no different.  I started rolling out dough, and Curly Girl came in and asked "Can I help you put macaroni on it?"
She meant pepperoni.  We've started having a macaroni/pepperoni mix-up ever since we had friends over for pizza, and their little girl mixed it up.  It is really very cute how they learn from each other.

So in order to teach her the difference, I sang "Pepperoni starts with p, just like pizza made for me..."  I did the whole song, to this tune:  (and yes, I know this is a classical song, but with a 4 year old, 2 year old and baby in my home, this is the version I hear the most often)



And then, while we placed the pepperoni (the previous song was sung during the rolling out of dough and spreading of sauce) we sang "Place your pepperoni, in a ring right here" to the tune of Woolly Bully.  During the grating and sprinkling of cheese we sang "This is how we use the cheese grater.... put the cheese against the holes, and scrape it down and it shreds, shreds the cheese so fine" to "That's the sound of the men working on the chain gang."

I need to work in some good country songs to my revue, but this wasn't a bad start.

You must be tired from running through my mind all day.....

Otherwise entitled: Pick Up Lines That Make Me Want To Write.

Feeling nostalgic today, I decided to flip through my college senior yearbook.  In the junior section, they listed Sure Fire pick-up lines that, for some odd reason, I found strangely inspiring to write.  Maybe I'll finish that novel after all.

• Your eyes are blue as window cleaner.
• Have you always been this cute or did it take some work?
• Do you have a name or can I call you mine?
• Wouldn't we look cute on a wedding cake together?
• You should be someone's wife.
• (For the ladies) Excuse me, I believe one of your ribs belongs to me.
• No, I'm not coveting, I intend to make you mine.
• What do you think Paul meant when he said, "Greet everyone with a kiss?"
• So you're a girl huh?
• My love for you is like diarrhea, I just can't hold it in.
• If you were a booger, I'd pick you.
• Are we related?  Do you want to be?
• I may not be the best looking guy here, but I'm the only one talking to you. (This one is my personal favorite)
• Wow!  Are you really as beautiful as you seem or do you remind me of myself? (second runner up)
• HI, the voices inside of my head told me to com over and talk to you.
• You are just truly absolutely beautiful!  Can you cook and clean also?
• I have only three months to live....
• Sweetheart, you make me wanna get a job. (Ok, this one just took the grand prize!)

And my  novel is just shy of 19,000 words. Thanksgiving break killed my momentum.  I obviously didn't make the November 30th deadline, but maybe I can write 30,000 words in December?

Back in the day.....

This last Friday was such a throwback to my childhood.

When I was growing up, Saturdays were cleaning and shopping day, but only after Mom got to sleep in. I remember my brother and I watching cartoons and eating cereal, only until Mom got up. Then, once she was ready to clean, we cleaned.
After a nice lunch of pancakes, we'd take off to do the bi-monthly shopping at the closest Walmart (1.5 hours away), unless it wasn't a shopping week, and then we didn't do a whole lot of anything.

This last Friday, I put a movie on for the Curly Kids at 6:30 AM and then slept until Curly Baby woke up. Then it was time to clean bedrooms, straighten and vacuum the whole house, eat waffles for lunch and laze away the afternoon.

Yep, definitely a throwback day. Loved it.

She said mysteriously as the elevator door closed....

I feel like my blog has been very teachy lately, very here's what I'm doing to organize my life. A little too much of that and not enough aren't my kids the cutest, isn't my husband the greatest, don't you just love summer?

The other night I made Mr. Curly get out of the recliner and come outside just to listen to cicadas and watch the fireflys with me. We talked about cicada memories - like the one summer we had TONS of them and my brother and I collected their shells off our treehouse tree every morning and kept them in our wagon.
Mr. Curly remembered listening to them in OK on family reunion trips - he said they sang ALL DAY there (as they do here), but I only remember them in the evenings from when I was growing up.

Thursday night it started raining and rained ALL night. At 8:30 in the morning, it was still raining and yet the cicacdas were singing.

Why is that tree cricket sound so great?

I read an awesome blog about summer. My friend Libby posted it here. Check her out. She's much more of an author in her blog than I am!

Post title from Music & Lyrics

Picture Update

Curly Boy's birthday gift from Mr. Curly and I:

This was a HUGE hit.... and I know for a fact he has a CARS sleeping bag coming from Grandma and Granddad that will have to be set up in here!

And Mr. Curly made Dirt Dessert for the celebration and covered it with new little CAT and John Deere machines - another huge hit!

And, to show just how much my kids love Curly Baby - here is a shot of them each sharing their special bears with Curly Baby at the hospital. Curly Girl's is the security blanket bear named "Sleepy Bear" and Curly Boy's is the traditional teddy bear. We call him "Buddy Bear," Curly Boy just calls him "Me bar."

Happy Birthday, Little Man!

My little man, Curly Boy, turns 2 today. 2! Even with all the waiting for Curly Baby to arrive, I still woke up this morning thinking about the April 14th run to the hospital. Arriving with just an hour to spare before Curly Boy rushed into the world.

One Year Old

He still rushes. He runs everywhere. He doesn't seem to think before he tries a new act of daring-do. Such a boy. Scraped knees, cut lips, bruises.... Happy Birthday, my daring Little Man! I pray God gives me wisdom to help you grow, and the strength to live through your many adventures!

Saturday was awesome

So, yeah, no snazzy little title here, just the pure truth.

We spent the morning at an Antique Show/Flea Market. We ate out at a local burger joint that was AMAZING! The kids took early naps, so by 4:00 we were outside enjoying the beautiful 70 degree weather!
Curly Boy got grass stains all over his knees and Curly Girl was covered in bubbles.


We had our first cook out of the season. In APRIL!!!
Gas station pops, hamburgers, cottage cheese, chips and strawberry short cake.... It really couldn't have got any better.

During nap time I made chocolate pie with sugar cookie dough crust for Sunday dinner. I baked blackberry muffins for Sunday breakfast. And then I threw together Huntington Chicken for Sunday dinner - this is a Sunday classic. Since I was 8 years old (until I moved out on my own) we had Huntington chicken at least once a month. First at Grandma Elsie's, then (once we moved), my mom started making it.

Grandma Elsie was a phenomenal woman of God and such an influence on my life. In fact, when we thought Curly Baby was a girl, we considered using Grandma Elsie's name. It was a special rememebrance of her to put that meal together Saturday afternoon and serve it to my family on Sunday.

I hope someday Curly Girl meets someone who is not biologically family, but family nonetheless. Someone who is a mentor without realizing it and leaves a permanent mark of what a real follower of Christ is. Someone who stays with her, even once they are gone.

Dust in the Wind....

I'm from Kansas. Not originally, it isn't where I was born, but from the time I was 8, until I was 25, my family lived in various parts of the state. Kansas is home. When travelling to visit family, all we have to do is cross over the state border and I breathe easier.

I spent my last half of grade school and most of middle school living in a small town in central Kansas. This is the co-op at the end of main street.

Source

After that, we moved way out to the Outback. We lived there during high school and my first year of college. And since I was horribly homesick that first year of college, I would drive home every 3 weeks, an 8 hour trip one-way across the state. And on my way home, I would stop and peer through the wooden fence at this:

Source

I can't even tell you how many pictures of Kansas sunsets I have. Or how many times I marvelled at the flat, treeless beauty of the state once you get past Kinsley on Highway 50.

And though I spent college just a few blocks from an AMC 30, I still pine for the old, one-screen theater where I saw most my movies in the summer on Tuesday nights for half price tickets, and 50 cent popcorn and pop! I know, it would sound much more romantic to say "where I saw my first movie" but I saw my first move 1.5 hrs from home, in the city, on a friend's birthday. 7 Years In Tibet. Yep, I never went to a theater until that movie was released.

And I was so hooked. The movies were magical for me. They still are. Which is why I love that my first date with Mr. Curly was to see American Outlaws. It was a great date. After the movie he told me about his grandpa, and we talked about John Wayne. Coincidentally, my last date with Mr. Curly was to see True Grit and afterwards we talked about his grandpa and John Wayne....

Somethings never change, and I'm glad they don't.

But, still, no matter how much I enjoyed my dates with Mr. Curly at the AMC, this theater will always hold a special place in my heart. Just like Kansas does.

Source

Oh - and if you're looking for a great book on Kansas, read Flyover People by Cheryl Unruh (a childhood friend of my mom's!)

Post title from Kansas.

She's going to love sleep-overs....

Tuesday night, well, I guess technically, Wednesday morning (it was 3:45), I heard Curly Girl start to cry. Since I wasn't really asleep, I didn't wait as long as I normally would to see if she would just go back to sleep or if she really needed something.
I went in to her room, found her sleepy bear, covered her up. The crying stopped, but before I could leave she said "I miss you. I have to go potty."
So we got out of bed and used the bathroom and went back to bed, no problems.

15 minutes later she was crying again. This time, I found her sitting up in bed. "I want to sleep with you." She said. I suggested I lay down with her, since Mr. Curly was sound asleep in our room and she agreed.

So, for about 30 minutes, I laid next to my daughter, who pushed my hair off my face, pulled the covers over my arms, gave me a bear to sleep with and then pretended to snore and be asleep. After 30 minutes, I REALLY needed to switch sides I was laying on, but Curly Girl had just snuggled up to me and I thought she would actually go to sleep. I squirmed. She turned towards me and giggled.

I couldn't help but giggle as well. Then I whispered "I really need to go back to my own bed now, ok? But you go to sleep and I'll see you in the morning."
She replied "Ok. Good night, Momma. I love you." and I slipped away to my own room.

I have the best little girl ever.

I love self-loathing complaint rock you can dance to.

Ever seen the movie Loser? It came out the year I graduated high school (so all of you who can do math now know how old I am. Stink). I still remember the scene where he got 2 tickets to Everclear and the girl didn't show. The poor boy was so lost!


Anyway, every once in awhile I get on these strong nostalgic kicks to bring out the old punk, the emo, the "self-loathing complaint rock", whatever you want to call it, that I listened to back in the high school/college days.

One song that will never die is Wheatus - Teenage Dirtbag. I so completely understand these feelings....




And while you're at it, check out Everclear's "I will buy you a new life." And for the song that was kind of my anthem for awhile, check out:Barenaked Ladies "Too Little Too Late."




Post Title from Loser.