Sunday, April 4, 2010

Runnin' on Empty

When I turned 16, all of the elder, sagacious members of my family passed on the same nugget of wisdom to me: don't run out of gas. This advice was presented as more of a threat than a recommendation. As a result, I never let my gas gauge fall below the halfway mark. But as I've grown older, I have felt myself become more lax, pushing the gauge further and further beyond the halfway mark and closer and closer to the red zone, or as I like to refer to it, the danger zone.

This past summer I worked in Indianapolis and carpooled with a friend periodically throughout the week. Often, the gas alarm would sound and I would inform him that it was imperative that we pull over, lest we end up stranded in Martinsville and face a sort of "Deliverance" fate. But my friend remained cool as a cucumber, encouraging me to keep driving, that we had another good 30 miles before we really needed to get gas. The first couple times this occurred I buckled from the crippling anxiety and guilt I felt as I pushed the car to the limit. But then, I surrendered. I started listening to Jim, and had some faith in my car. More and more, I became comfortable cruisin' in the danger zone.

This week, I allowed myself to drive in the danger zone for about 2 days. On the third day, my grandpa must have been looking down from heaven, displeased with what he saw on my dashboard gauges. I started my car, with the intention of driving to the gas station less than 100 yards from my house. She started up nicely, and I tapped the gas pedal to get 'er movin'. I made it to the stop sign at the end of my road, waited for traffic to pass, and then took a louie out onto the street. The second I turned the wheel my transformed into a carnival game. Bells started chiming, lights started flashing, the whole car froze up. At that point, I put my rudimentary physics knowledge to work and calculated that I could coast right on up to the pump on the momentum I gained from the last burst of gas. We made it right to the entrance. I could see victory. I could smell it in the form of petrol fumes. As I took the last turn into the gas station landing, an nonfactored exponent popped in to the equation. The entryway had a slight incline to it, quashing my hopes of a foreseeably full gas tank.

There I sat, resting on the BP inclination, hazard lights flashing. I got out of the car, passing a cab driver lounging on the hood of his car. "You just leaving your car there?"
"Yeeep. I just ran out of gas." A stare-off proceeded, as I waited for him to offer his assistance and he waited for me to walk back and finish pulling my car in to the gas station. I broke first, and walked into the attached convenient store, straight to the aisle hosting the embarassing, abasing 2 gallon gas tanks. I picked up an 8 dollar tub, carried it to the counter, and started playing out the next 10-15 minutes of my life. I would buy this tank, walk out 10 feet to the gas pump, fill it up, take 30 paces north over to my car, fill up the car with 2 gallons of gas, get back in my car, start it up, drive it 20 feet up to the pump and finish filling the tank. As I considered this sequence of events, I began to think that the better, more practical option for me was to abandon my car completely and buy a new one. It was out of gas anyway. What good was it to me now, outside of serving as a platter to serve up a hearty dish of humiliation? Just as I began to make a run for it, a man walked in, saw me with a gas tank and through his astute perception, noticed I was quite the aloof and unlucky young woman. The kind of young woman whose car would fail her so close to achieving victory. To be polite, he asked me, "Is that car out there yours?" With my head down, I admitted my failure and he offered to help me get back in the game.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Girling Out

The first time I listened to this song, I mean really listened, I balled my eyes out. This song has been played on quite a few occasions in my life. When I've gotten giddy about a relationship, when I've gotten to that place where I've let go of myself and fallen in love, and when I'm nothing but hopeful that a love, or some love, will return. Never have I felt so in tune with the emotions associated with every element of a song as I have with this one. The music, the lyrics, the tone, the personal sentiment it extracts. I've proclaimed to many friends that this is the song I will dance to at my wedding, as I usher in a future colored with unremitting love. Get ready to girl out, or guy out. Happy early Valentine's Day to all you lovers and fellow hopeless romantics!

(Sorry this isn't the most visually stimulating video in the world, but I almost prefer that it's just the musicians. Understatement is the name of the game.)

Also, for those of you who get into lyrics, here they are. They're beautiful.

Why would I stop loving you
a hundred years from now?
It's only time.
It's only time.

What could stop this beating heart
once it's made a vow?
It's only time.
It's only time.

If rain won't change your mind,
let it fall.
The rain won't change my heart
at all.

Lock this chain
around my hand,
throw away the key.
It's only time.
It's only time.

Years falling
like grains of sand
mean nothing to me.
It's only time.
It's only time.

If snow won't change your mind
let it fall.
The snow won't change my heart,
not at all.

(I'll walk your lands)
I'll walk your lands
(And swim your sea)
And swim your sea

Marry me.
Marry me.

(Then in your hands)
Then in your hands
(I will be free)
I will be free

Marry me.
Marry me.

Why would I stop loving you
a hundred years from now?

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Celebrity Dopplegangers

We are just starting to come down from Doppleganger Week. As more and more individuals started changing their facebook profile pictures to represent their "dopplegangers," I realized how complimentary people were to themselves. I posted a picture of Miss Geist, the scattered and ratty English teacher from the movie "Clueless", as my doppleganger. I guess I've always been a bit of a realist. After posting this picture, I realized that there were probably a few better choices I could've made concerning who should represent me as my doppleganger. So, I went to one of those websites where you upload a picture of yourself and they tell you who you look like. Apparently, since I wear glasses, I only look like chubby men. Therefore, I was forced to come up with my look-a-likes without the aid of technology. Here are some pictures of celebrities that I feel I have some resemblance to.


(From Left: Wednesday Addams, the twin flowergirls in Michael Corleone's wedding from "The Godfather", Enid from "Ghost World")


(From Left: Miss Geist from "Clueless", Sarah Palin)


(From Left: Andrea Rosen, Tina Fey, Janeane Garofolo)


(From Left: Colleen Corby, Zooey Deschanel, Esther Ofarim)

Monday, February 8, 2010

What is Maggie?

To all of my fellow Maggie's that helped to contribute to such positive urban dictionary definitions, thank you. It's wonderful to know that we Maggie's are perceived by others as pretty great gals. Of course, there is always that sexual innuendo outlier that comes with any urban dictionary definition, but for the most part, I have to say I am content with the entries for "Maggie." We come across as really fun people that have great hair. For those minority of Maggie's that have given us all a bad name, shame on you. You should know better. Also, that "Avatar"-loving Maggie. Come oooonnnn.


1) A girl who doesn't trust or fall in love easily. (CAUTION: if you are lucky enough to have her fall for you, she has a soft heart that is easily hurt. Be good to her.) She can be confusing, but only needs you to tell her and things will clear up. She can be beautiful inside and out. Her spirit draws you to her like a magnet. Once you know her, everyday is new. You can never be sure that you know everything about her.

2) An amazing person. She can always make you smile and laugh, and is unpredictable. Boy-crazy, fun, one of the best friends you'll ever have. Has beautiful hair.

3) n. Nickname for Margaret.

4) n. Commonly used dog's name. If your name is Maggie, chances are every person that ever meets you who happens to have a dog named Maggie (Which will be at least 25% of the people you meet in your life) will immediately reply with, "Oh. My dog's name is Maggie! How cute!" Because they think you A) Care and B) Also think this is "cute".

5) ohhhhh my goodness maggie the best at being her self and the nicest girl with the greatest personality and it could be a world record how beautiful she is but shes a tough one to get trust me i know from experience but ill keep trying the thing is i can never tell if shes interested or not she has a really good poker face.

6) A young woman who after seeing Avatar in 3D became conflicted between her alliances with Earth or Pandora. While thinking of ways to travel to space to join "her" native people, she has become infatuated with creating a new graphic sex scene for the movie Avatar. Unfortunately for men, Maggie is an extremely attractive girl, but refuses to give it up in hopes that her pony tail will grow alien DNA so she can pro-create on Pandora. Maggie currently lives in her uncles basement with her two cats while she finalizes plans for the space-craft she has named "Big Tony."

7) to squeeze, or firmly grab another person's buttox region casually, all while pretending it wasn't you.

8) A total spaz that likes to have fun. Often likes to talk about vaginas.

9) Short / Ghetto for a Magnum (the pistol).

10) maggie meaning the most amazing thing or person in the world. It can also mean a big pile of weed, or cocaine. OOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRR it can be a big giant lollypop that you like a lot and you keep licking untill your tounge falls off.

11) the worst beast of all, suffers from bfb disease further known as a best friend beater. she will stop at nothing and enjoys the crys of her surrounding victims. Her motives are biting, hiting, punching, screaming, and shoving. BEWARE! of the maggie

12) The biggest bitch in the world. Totally conceited. Used as an insult.

(note: This is not an exhaustive list of urban dictionary entries for "Maggie." There were some slutty ones that I thought were in poor taste for a wholesome Maggie to post. To see all entries, go here)

Friday, October 30, 2009

Google Mix Up

I google imaged "Liz Lemon" so that I could get a better understanding of her style in order that I might perfect my look for a Halloween costume. I haven't had a ton of time to prepare for a Halloween costume idea, so I decided to just go with something that would be easy for me. Since I already look a bit like Tina Fey and I already live a lifestyle similar to Liz Lemon, I figured I would just fall into the part on October 31. When i googled "Liz Lemon" a little surprise popped up. Apparently there is a woman named "Liz Lemon Swindle" that does those weird Mormon paintings. And, there's an entire website called "LDS-Art" that is designated to the sale and promotion of paintings in the genre of "Mormonism." Pre-tty interesting.

Liz Lemon Swindle

Thursday, October 8, 2009


Apparently this is the season to reinvent yourself, fashionistically speaking. People all around me are popping up with "new looks" and the notion of updating my wardrobe is rather tempting. And, judging by the people in my life, my "new look" has been a long desired achievement. Every time my dad and I watch one of those makeover tv shows, he never fails to drop the comment, "you know, you'd be good on one of these shows." This usually segways into a debate about how I am already a good dresser so I don't need to go on "one of those shows" because those shows are for bad dressers. But, I think I get it. It's time for something fresh like a Young MC song.

My direction is governed by the fact that my life as a student is about to cease (at least for a couple years) and I am going to be a grown up halfling. So, I'm moving away from the kitsch and the polyester that used to dominate my wardrobe and am heading for a more classy, toned down kitsch reminiscent of a woman in the 1950's that is trying to be a career woman and fighting for a position among the old boys' club. My model style has been inspired by the fashion of a one Zooey Deschanel. Her style is, to me, the embodiment of classy, toned down kitsch. I also considered growing my hair long and getting rid of the glasses so that I could look like her fraternal obviously being the less fortunate in physical characteristics.

This transition hasn't been easy. I have definitely relapsed on several purchasing occasions. The latest temptation came while I was looking for a studious-looking sweater vest. I was just starting to acclimate myself to the gray and muted color scheme when, BAM, this beauty popped up. I'm so tempted to get it, but I know it would go against everything I'm trying to make of myself. All of the wonderful things I'm trying to achieve.

Whether or not to buy this sweater vest will be the dilemma of the weekend. If J.Crew or Anthropologie don't bring something to the table soon, I will be forced to reassess my new look and perhaps make the new look the old look which in return would result in my dad calling TLC and putting me on "What Not to Wear" for my own good. Heaven help us all...but mostly me and my wardrobe prospects.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

My Current Motivational Jam

When I went up to Ft. Wayne last weekend, we sang "Just a Closer Walk with Thee" at church. I love this hymn. When I got back home I wanted to listen to it again, so I googled the song and up popped this video clip of Mahalia Jackson singing the hymn. I found it to be overwhelming. Jackson becomes so engrossed with the music and the message she is singing that she isn't even cognizant of her surroundings (note how she doesn't even make a move when her hair falls into her face. She never goes to fix it.). Nothing seems to distract her. And the thing is, I don't feel like she was singing the song to entertain. She appears to be motivated by another force outside of the pleasing the audience or glorifying herself. Her exit even seems to suggest that she wasn't making the performance about her. She wanted to leave the audience with whatever emotions or spiritual encouragement they were experiencing.

On another note, how amazing are the pianist and the organist accompanying Jackson?