Category: My Husband Rocks

Can’t Love You Enough

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                                                            Chipotle

My husband went to Denver for a week. For a week. That’s a long time when you never get sick of someone. It would be different if we needed head space or elbow room. Our body parts didn’t need distance. Always questioning what’s in it for me I discovered the only benefit of putting my kisa in Denver is Chipotle. I dare anyone to find me a better burrito. Definitely dare you. Chipotle has its own wiki page for Frank’s Sake!
I can’t love Chipotle enough. The affair started in 2000. I was introduced to a chicken, double salsa, cilantro-lime rice, black bean, cheddar cheese & sour cream cylinder of goodness within moments of arriving in Denver. Love at first bite. Heaven and Hell. Heaven because I had never tasted anything so good. Hell because it didn’t exist on the eastern seaboard. I was hooked. Caught up in the pleasure and pain of I-Have-To-Eat-The-Whole-Thing. So full I had to unzip my pants, but I finished it…satisfied.
I left Denver in ignorance and innocence having not yet learned of transcontinental burrito travel. Once home I wrote bigwig Joe Stupp of my adoration for his chicken burrito and my lament at leaving the land of yum. He wrote back with coupons, good for youknowwhats and the assurance that Chipotle would dominate the east coast very soon. (As of today, four have invaded New York City.)
How much do I love these bomblike burritos? At Christmas 2001 a friend was detained at the airport and nearly missed his flight. He was searched because he carried a suspicious silver cylinder. His crime? Bringing me a frozen burrito wrapped in aluminum. I joined the fan-club in 2000. I get their email newsletter despite the fact it would take me three hours to order from the nearest menu.

Today, I am enjoying a chicken, double salsa, cheese, bean and rice number courtesy of being separated from my husband. Courtesy of a long distance love affair. I can’t love you enough.
burrito

Smirk

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Dear You,

I call today Shakespeare. A tragedy and comedy all rolled up in one. Work was good, for once. Isn’t it funny that the moneymaker is an okay place to be?
I came home to the crib. Or not. I think Papa tried and untried a gazillion times. He finally gave up claiming fatigue. I can’t blame him. He banged your mother on the head with a power drill (she’s fine). We’ll try again tomorrow.
I was accused of trying to burn the house down. See, it’s like this. I wanted to use the smoker again. Turkey burgers done up in hickory and homemade barbecue. Doesn’t that sound good? No standing in front of the fridge eating cottage cheese from the container; pickles from the jar; fingers sticky and cold. I wanted a real meal complete with baked beans and cheddar cheese. The smoker, well, it smokes. Your dad wanted to know why the smoke detector didn’t go off…oops…busted. He shook a finger at me and I swear I heard a tsk, tsk in there.
Indy is still crying. She claims you left her for Maggie. I told her I didn’t think she was your type but still she carries on.
Me, even though it’s only 9pm I’m going to bed. I’ve discovered diagonal isn’t that bad. I don’t ditch the sheet either.
Tell Johnny I think his queso story is bunk and that Chipotle still rules the planet. Hang onto that cell phone and call soon.
love, me

Rocking

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Dear You,
It’s only 9 something pm but I think my head will find the pillow soon. Things are fine. I gorged on tons of TV until my hand fell asleep from changing channels. I think I like this rule the remote thing. Your mother-in-law called – wanted to talk about the house. I suppose it needs to happen sometime, right? Your daughter is bitchy. Says I’m not fooling anyone as she sniffs around for the body. I swear I didn’t kill you but she just won’t believe me. Call soon so I can put her on the phone. I’ve been in communication with your parents. We slide notes back and forth under the door. Rent is due, crib is ready when you are. Okay, I made that first part up but I’ll write a check anyway.
By the way, the rice cooker isn’t broken. I’m just an idiot. And. The chocolate raspberry sauce works on graham crackers.
Speaking of food – how was that burrito? You better bring me back one – make that two. One for both hands. I can handle it. Tell the boys I said hi.
love, me
ps~ No hot air balloon ride. Sorry.

Lip balm Laughter

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lipbalmThis weekend has turned out to be one of the most unexpected best. I have to give public thanks to my amazing friend Ruby. She rescued me Friday evening and helped me forget about my current hypertension life. She asked about old dramas that have eased into that We-Can-Laugh-About-It-Now phase. I relived foofaraw and FEFFFF and giggled over the stupidity of it all. Men in bear suits, Jesus on a telephone pole, jars of mayonnaise, Easter forgotten, swinging walkers and can you rearrange your whole studio to meet MY needs? Probably my favorite moment was visiting an old haunt, tripping down a memory lane of scents, trying to avoid the overpushy saleslady, and being chided for not buying lip balm. Kisa and Ruby know me that well. They’ll say I Told You So but I can’t stop thinking about what I didn’t get so I’m going back for a tube or two!

Kisa & I spent Saturday night wandering Northampton – we zipped into Different Drummer for a cookbook stand and a flexi cutting board (kisa is so smart), eating yummy pizza (it’s a tradition now!) and listening to Rebecca Correia and Kyle Spark at Bishops. They are so good together! I almost remembered the entire setlist:Rebecca Correia

  • Greatest Mistake? – a new song I haven’t heard before
  • Miss You – easily one of my favorites
  • Better Day – I always want to call this one ‘Rain’
  • Quiet Hands – I shed a small tear for “our” first dance song. I love it!
  • On Your Way Down – I thought Rebecca would tell the story but she didn’t
  • For the Taking – my favorite Kyle and Rebecca duo song. They sound great together!
  • Walking Back – definitely one she needs to perform more
  • Sarah’s Song – I love the line about the Chinese buffet
  • Gin – this one always gets people. Kyle’s solo is kickazz!
  • ? – I don’t remember this one. Something new? Something unfamiliar?
  • No apologies – another one I need to hear more often

My glass of Merlot lasted all night. It went well with the amazing music. Rebecca talked about the Miss You cd release party she’s having in Florida (at Virgin). After six years we are all anxious for the new music we have heard so much about. She joked that if we didn’t come to Florida we would have to buy Miss You on the Internet. Very funny.
After the show we talked about a hometown cd release party. I’ll see what I can do about rallying the troops when the time comes. Time to party!

Mine All Mine

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I need to claim April as my month. The once cruelest month needs to be my saving grace. I am mourning the loss of so many things. Physical, mental, spiritual, individual. All gone for better or worse.

Yet, I have so many things to look forward to in April. My family, for one. I haven’t hosted their laughter in so long, and in some cases, never. We’ve had the carpets professionally cleaned, the couches dumped and the vents sucked out. We’ve only just begun. I’ve cleaned out of necessity. I want to cook out of love.
4/4 is my chance to speak my mind. A chance to be heard. Will it stand up to the powers that be? Will it matter in the grand scheme of things? The answer will dictate Should I Stay. The answer will determine the direction of my sails.
4/27 seems so far away. Lights, camera, action seemed like a dream but with every passing day reality is creeping in. I firmly believe in helping out those I truly love and this is no exception. Kisa is the driving force behind this venture and I couldn’t be more blessed.
April also brings a reunion of sorts. I almost want to hold my breath for fear of it not happening. We have promised togetherness for years but every assurance sounds more hollow than the last. I want to see him yet I’m afraid of what won’t be.
Now and Zen Yoga has moved to the new location and I’m anxious to start over in the world of yoga. With a couch propped in the back room I haven’t had room to move the way I want to. April is the month to get back into the studio.
Knitting classes also start in April. Will I be a dolt with sharp objects? I think if I handled a chef’s knife okay I can handle a knitting needle. Make that two.

April is my month.

Jumping Off

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I think about suicide from time to time. When I said this to my boss he looked me in the eye and solomnly said “we all do.” He didn’t try to patronize me and talk me out of something considered. He knew what I meant. I have respect for people like that.

Right now I am considering suicide of a different nature. I think by even writing this I risk decapitation of some sort. I want to jump off this career track and lay myself down in the way of the oncoming train of change.
What do you do when you find out your organization isn’t supported, barely acknowledged? What do you do when your values are scoffed at, swept under the rug? The writing is on the wall. The truth is in black and white for everyone to read and I don’t know what to do. Really don’t.

My contract is up in June. I promised kisa I would open the newspaper to the section I haven’t looked at in over six years. I promised him I would update the resume and who cares that the ink has even’t dried on the word “director”?

There is a part of me that wants to fight. Fight like hell. We have a good group. If we work together couldn’t we beat Goliath at his own game? Why shouldn’t we try? Or what about this – why can’t I play the Darwin game and try to survive on my own? Band with the enemy and take ’em all out? I’ve only been playing this game for three years. Before that I was a bit player, a volunteer. Who’s to say I can’t switch teams and go public? So many questions. No answers.

For now, all I want to do is jump. Suicide.

From Start to Finish

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From start to finish it was an all Good Night. Good food. Good company. Good music. Good drinks. Good plans. Good night. Where should I start? Kisa and I arrived at the factory not knowing what to expect. How do I explain this? I was more than excited to hear my favorite heartbeat, see my favorite couple, have a night out with my one and only favorite man. We interrupted sound check inadvertently. We had time to sit for dinner. The first thing I spotted when we were seated was a giant SpeakEasyExtravaganza poster. Huge. I entertained thoughts of stealing it. Fantasized about where it would go on my wall. I would have sacrificed Natalie for Soul Session for sure.
The music. Where do I even start about the music? Sean Rowe is amazing. I absolutely adore his voice. I was mesmerized by how much sound he and his guitar could put out. They were locked in harmony. I wanted him to sing all night long…well, if Greg could join him! My only disappointment? Wondering if I missed ‘Snake in the Grass’. All night I thought about it. (We came up late.) We ended up buying a cd so I would eventually hear my favorite SR song…twice. I didn’t know I would enjoy Sean as much as I did (even though Brian said I would)…so now I’m going to watch Sean’s tour schedule to try to see him more often. At least more often than once. I wonder if he’ll ever get out my way?

Then came Soul Session. It was a SS I have never seen or heard before. Back up singers…two keyboards…sax and flute…all new faces. All new sound. I didn’t hear my favorite cover, ‘Is You Is’ and I missed Greg’s first mini solo, but I had a great time just the same. It was a real party atmosphere (“bringing classy back”) – people dressed up, food, fancy drinks, candy, free stuff (kisa and I both got shirts and shot glasses) glitter dance floor, strobe lights and not a place to sit – every table packed. I decided my favorite moments were 1) not one but three men banging drums with Sean singing, 2) Night and Day (done right) and 3) being with the coolest people ever. I wish I had a setlist. I had moments during every song that sparked me one way or another. From pants-splitting special guests to Sade there was something to remember. I could have stayed all night.

Even better? Talking about filming. Drum beats. Foot prints. Cymbal smashing. I want it all. It was a good night. From start to finish.

Dangerous to D’bone

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knivesIt was Christmas again yesterday (in more ways than one, but I’ll get to that some other time). In December Kisa bought me a knife. I guess, according to someone in the culinary world, it is bad luck to buy someone a knife. To offset the “badness” you must give money as well. Are you thinking scam? Because it sounds like a scam to me…but nevertheless Kisa presented me not only with an eight inch Santoku (pictured here) he also gave me a gift certificate which I used for a knife skills class.
Class was yesterday. For me, the biggest rattler of life is thinking you know something and then finding out you’ve been wrong all along. A loser in the knowledge department. Playing the fool in the grand scheme of things. Such was my case before getting to class. I have been slicing, dicing, mincing, milling, you name it, for years. Someone had tried to show me the “right” way to dice. What if I really had been doing it all wrong, wrong, wrong all this time? A worse thought? I’d have to touch a chicken bone-in. I even joked with kisa the night before, “watch. They’re gonna make me debone a chicken.” I was practically trembling when I got to class. And I was right. And wrong.

I was right about the chicken.chicken Wrong about my abilities. Here’s the bottom line on holding a sharp instrument – it’s a sharp instrument. Hold it any damn way you please to get the job done…with care. There are four professional ways to hold food while “knifing” it. But, variations are acceptable. Completely acceptable. Yay. Class was easier than easy because everything the instructor taught us was something I either knew how to do really well (citrus supremes) or had attempted a few times (Asian garnishes) and everything in between. I’ve never worked in a restaurant but somehow I’ve held my own when holding a knife.

Then came the chicken. Unchartered waters for sure. I have never ever so much as touched a raw chicken that still has it’s skeletal structure. Panic set in. Surely this is where I would slice a thumb off, throw up, or worse – faint. Meat on the bone creates vegetarian thoughts in me. Seriously. Bones make it easier to see the creature it really is. Or Was. Whatever.
The instructor set to instructing. Her “first you do this, then this, then this, then this, then this…” play by play made my head spin. How would I remember to do that in that order? I think my eyes glazed over at that point. When we finally put boning knife to bony chicken I thought “surgery” and went to work. By the end I had a perfectly butterflied, boneless, not-resembling-an-animal-anymore piece of meat. The instructor came by and uttered “perfect” before moving on. Who knew anyone would say “perfect” in my presence? Perfectly unprepared for that.

I learned. I learned how to hone a knife (I mastered 20 degrees on my first try). I learned what dulls a knife (fat, picking up food). But, most importantly, I learned not to take my own knowledge for granted. I sell myself and my abilities short and this was just one more reason why I shouldn’t.

SoulSessionSeanRoweComingSoon…..

Green Like Me

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The snow fell yesterday like it was January 16th instead of three months later than that. Instead of being the weekend of St. Patrick’s Day green it has been wild winter white. People spent their Saturday morning digging out driveways and sanding sidewalks. Not a shamrock in sight. We were no different before we headed to the office. Snowblowers and shovels. Backbreaking for the already bruised kisa.
Maybe I was thinking of Myrtle. Maybe I was envious of the Irish. I don’t know. Whatever the reason I changed one wall of my office to “Amazon” green. I kid you not. I hired a professional painter and while kisa & I hung curtains and rearranged furniture my wall of blue was washed away with an anaconda hue. It took two coats to subdue the blue underneath but in the end I had a wall of jungle.
Sometimes you need to do something a little daring. Go out on a limb. I see green as a little dangerous, a little evil. Maybe this snake-like hue will give me the venom I need to fight in the future. Court battles and corporate takeovers and cold hearts.

I sat and I watched Myrtle. Ancient and grace. Beautiful and green.

Running with John

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                                                                                                                       JM

Kisa found me MSG so I went running with BubbleGum yesterday. I call it my revenge run because it was at this time a year ago that I injured my knee. I didn’t know it yet. It was at this time that everything started to crumble, tumble down and my beliefs on running were compromised.  Last year I had been robbed of the nice weather and reduced to “running” the eliptical. Doctors orders.

This year I took John out and we made it through the streets of where I call home. Running on the road I couldn’t help but wonder how soaked my feet were going to be by the end of it all. Snow was subsiding into streams and running alongside me. I dodged as best I could, ran through when I had to. On Bridge I had companions – two very loose dogs, one gray, one brown. I don’t remember their breed but I recognized them from the calendar my sister gets every year for Christmas. I should have asked for autographs, but then again, that would have required stopping. John said something about waking up and forgetting for five seconds all the sh!t that bothers you. Nice idea. When I got to the graveyard I thought I would run by Get Head but realized I would rather run among the souls. It ended up not being as intimate as I would have liked but it made for a good shortcut in the end. Down by Kisa’s chiropractor appointment I thought about stopping in and only decided against it when I realized I didn’t know the way in. Plus, I didn’t want to stop my uphill battle. I ran on and only stopped when John did.

Bottom line: 3.8 miles

boots for kisa

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I adore this picture. There is so much going on in this one, poorly lit shot. Take the boots, for example. The boots shocked people. No. I take that back. The boots surprised only those who don’t really know me and shocked those who don’t believe in me. The flowers amazed me. Even now, still. Grown just for my day. Our day. Not a single blossom purchased in a no-name greenhouse. There was even a tiger lily if you looked close enough. My parents on their wedding day peeked out from the green. Their faces kept me calm, kept me grounded on an otherwise outrageous day. I wore a veil to look the part of champagne bride and maybe I blushed. I don’t remember. Kisa laughed from the shadows. Not a what-did-I-just-do? laugh, but did-I-really-marry-this-crazy-woman? laugh. It’s the banter of a new beginning. We are happy and defiant. Still.

Pour Me More

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I’ve shunned the electronic social network and opted for the face to face this weekend. There’s some birthday reminder on myspace but I’ve ignored it. I had more fun wishing Sandy happy birthday as she poured me another cup of coffee and took my order. It was nice to see my husband sit up and take a meal for the first time in a week. Face to face, pour me more.
Last night I went out to dinner with the girls. Pasta and wine (Merlot, of course). Stories and laughter. We saved leftovers for later and didn’t worry about manners. Face to face, pour me more.
Today, I helped a friend with *her* office space. It was nice to not think about me, myself and moi for a little while. A different paint brush dipped in paint a different shade of blue. Lying on the floor, paying attention to detail and catching up. Face to face, pour me more.
Tonight, I am going to put my feet in kisa’s lap and watch ‘Go Further’…with wine. We’ll talk about my mother’s birthday, my family’s visit and beautiful Colorado. We’ll worry about backaches, try to figure out how to ship a burrito through the mail and laugh about the cat. We’ll take on life face to face. Pour me more and let me drink it up.

Believe in Bootlegs

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I’ve never been one to get  too involved with the great bootleg debate. Either you believe in taping or you don’t. Either you see it as a way to share live music or you see it as a way to steal from said artist. Whatever. I know where I stand. My first introduction to boots was my husband. I had just seen Natalie Merchant for the very first time (Le Spectrum, Montreal October 1999). Kisa found “the show” for me and finagled a trade. I had no clue what that meant and was in awe of the idea that everything Natalie said would be mine for keeps in the form of a cd I could listen to over and over again. Her reading of Freddie the Fish in French, her Happy Birthday to Me inebriation, Hey Jack (twice), the swearing – yes, Natalie swears. It was like I was back in Montreal, speaking bad French and sipping amazing coffee. When the cds arrived I could barely believe I could relive one of the best moments of my concert-going life. I was hooked. In my mind, because I was at this show I have a souvenir, a keepsake of a good time. Later I found a show I took my mother to. We had one of the best mother-daughter times I could ever ask for. On the recording I can hear kisa and mom helping me scream for a request… and at the end of the show when Natalie breathes “good night Portland” I know she is leaning down to smile at us.
Fast forward to last night. Kisa found a “secret” show that BubbleGum put on before the release of Continuum. An intimate show billed under a fake name. BG is like Natalie in that he likes to showcase his new songs to an unsuspecting audience, just to test them out. Just show up somewhere and play it out, play it for them. See how it all turns out. I am grateful for the recording. I am so busy the chances of “discovering” a secret show are next to nil. And the chances of BG or Natalie choosing my little town to drop in on is even less. So, having a boot of something I missed out on is awesome.
Here’s how I look at the great debate. If the artist supports taping it’s not stealing. The other angle is this – when I went to see BG I paid $4o (bt) for the ticket. I bought two shirts to the tune of $60 and you can bet I’ll buy every album he puts out from now on. How did this all start? I heard a bootleg of a Jimi Hendrix cover and was impressed. If I hadn’t heard the boot I wouldn’t have given BG a second look. I wouldn’t have spent $100+ in a single night. He gained a fan because he allowed someone to share. With me. 

So, I see bootlegs as a way to capture a I-Was-There moment. I see bootlegs as a way to alleviate that I-Missed-Out feeling. Finally, I see bootlegs as a way to get to know an artist I never would have taken a chance on otherwise. One final word – share the music. If it’s not yours don’t sell it.

Standing at a Distance

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There is something about seeing someone on TV. There is something about that distance that dumbs them down, makes them less human. Untouchable. Unreal.
I think I was feeling that way about John Mayer. BubbleGum. KISA gives me presents in the form of tivo’ed programming. They have allowed me to Gum out again and again. He’ll patiently roll his eyes and gently say, “oh. him again. okay.” *sigh*
But, last night was in person. We had great seats and a cooperative crowd. My husband would not agree, but I enjoyed everyone sitting down. I’m short. I hate having to peer around heads and in between shoulders. Constantly shifting to catch glimpses. It makes for a long night.
If I had known my camera was allowed I would have snapped away…Next time. If there is one.
+ SET LIST

Vultures ( I called this as the opening song)
Good Love is On the Way (“Good love!” “Good love!”)
No Such Thing
I Don’t Trust Myself (With Loving You) BG sometimes introduces this song as “a song about being a bastard” but this time he said he was a “crazy lover.” Whatever.
I Don’t Need No Doctor (a John Scofield tune, introduced because the band is “bored.”)
Bigger Than My Body
The Heart of Life (“it’s all good”)
Belief
Waiting on the World to Change
Why Georgia
I’m Gonna Find Another You

— encore —
Wait Until Tomorrow (He fooled us with a little intro to another Jimi song. This was just as good, if not better.)
Your Body is a Wonderland (this is better live than it could ever be on the radio. Unfortunately, this was the song I had stuck in my head when I woke up.)
Gravity (I called this one, too).

My favorite parts? BubbleGumGuy being funny guy. The drums. Saying JJ’s name like it was something perverted (but, catching him smoke was even better). The drums. Taking the pop out of Heart of Life. The drums. Funky dance moves. KISA giving in to my teenage whims…. I got TWO shirts! 😉 …and did I mention the drums?

Love Like That

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I am loved. KISA is out in the dying light trying to snow-blow the driveway. Make that drivewayS. Grandpa, parents, and of course us. We are all snowbound. He is a bundled up black head to toe snowman, home from a full day at work, trudging behind a loud machine. I know the kid in him enjoys throwing snow 30 feet into the air, but the adult hates the cold. I’ve put on hot water for mocha and I’ve cranked the thermostat (this is a big deal). Anything to alleviate some of my guilt for being inside and warm. 

I am loved. Sometimes it takes me a looong time to accept that. Sometimes I take it for granted. Ms Me, Myself & Moi received two packages of love. I’m still trying to get over the goodness of the guys.

GN~ You are my favorite heartbeat. Your gift. It. Blew. Me. Away…seriously. I don’t know what else to say. Out of the blue. I’ve already submerged myself in a little Neil and a little more Carter. I am giddy over the “red sparkle kit” and “the analysis”. Okay, I love the analysis. I’ve always been a Dave fan…I don’t know how to repay You. Well, I do. I’m working on it. We’re working it. Blown Away. I can’t stop smiling thinking of all the good “noise” I have to watch and hear and love. Thank You. PS~ Can’t wait for Vol. II – will it be You? 🙂

SPB~ You crack me up. Did you remember I’m earthtones or was that a lucky guess? I love, love, love my new look. I’ll confess I went to work wearing the same DragoRossi I slept in. I got strange looks at the faculty meeting but at least I was comfortable. I don’t know what made you put me on your list, but I’m glad you did. If there is anyone who knows the benefit of soft clothing (besides Ruby) it’s you. I’m grateful for the spot in your heart even if I don’t deserve it.

Valentine’s Day is being reconsidered. I’m sorry for the cynical. Love works in mysterious ways. I won’t even try to figure it out. It makes me cry just attempting to sort it out. Just know that it’s there for you. Love. You. Thank. You.