The Fragrance of Release

Oh, I am so happy. Once again I get to sing "We Give You Thanks" in contemporary choir, at church. This is the song I mentioned before in a previous entry--where the actual lyrics go "from the movement deep within us" and on to "for the fragrance of release", followed by, "from the fire that blazes forward"...Singing this song with reverence and a straight face is difficult enough, but there was no holding back a loud guffaw this morning when the choir director announced we would be singing it from the 'pews'. Honestly.

Last night my friend Char and I were having dinner and who should show up, but Pastor Tim! I took one look at him and laughed and laughed, because I swear I was JUST telling Char about this song, and in walks Tim. Then to my surprise, we are singing the song again this weekend. Ah, life is just too funny sometimes.

Because I'm Worth It.

I love new cars. New cars, used cars, anything that's new to me, that is. I am a fickle girl when I comes to my vehicle. I start out loving it, and in a few years I'm ready to trade it in for something that hasn't lost it's sparkle and has that new-car-smell. (even the used ones do, they must use that spray?!) The Mazda MPV has become the Most Putzy Vehicle over the past year, and I am over it. It is so not metal! I want 4 wheel drive, I want to sit up high, I want power!

A while ago I thought it would be fun to have a Hummer. This was back when I was taking Tae Kwon Do. A big, pink, glittery Hummer, complete with spinners. I could just picture myself on my way to class, mowing down everyone on the street and then kicking everyone's butt in the dojo. Maybe now I don't feel like I have so much to prove, or maybe I just worry how everyone but Republicans would hate me--I don't necessarily need them on my side. Not that I could have actually afforded one anyway, but the tree-huggers will be happy to know that I have moved on.

I have settled on a Nissan Pathfinder, (see above) somewhere in the 2001-2004 range. (I do realize that the tree-huggers would be happier if I was getting some sort of fart-in-a-tin-can hybrid or something, but again, not very metal!) It was no small task coming to that conclusion, either. I drove a lot of cars. I would drop Vivian off at her park program, and Sullivan and I would hit the dealerships. Aren't car dealers a hoot? I swear, so many of them do not have ears. You tell them what you want/need/don't want/don't need and they try to sell you just the opposite. As we aren't actually buying quite yet, it's been satisfying seeing them trip over their feet as I walk out the door. Sullivan is just the cutest, too. He just sits in the back and tells me that each car is just perfect. Of course he wants a Cadillac or a Mustang convertable--the kid has good taste!

Anyway, the Pathfinder seems like a great vehicle, and I can get all of my luxurious whistles and bells along with it, in my price range. Because like Loreal hair color, I'm worth it. So--if you or anyone you know has one of these babies for sale, just let me know. Sullivan and I will come out and take it for a drive.

Nyet!

There is no reason to title this post "No", but it's the only Russian word I know. Lori sent me this link this morning. I guess it's just a verbatim translation off of our site, but, pretty cool. Complete with out-of-date 80's rocker photo! I guess Warbride really is global!

Harry Potter and The Suz on WCCO

Your first impression of that title may be that I have secret information about the title to the 7th and very last Harry Potter book--(the 6th is the one that was just released, to those of you not in the know) but if you think that, I am about to disappoint you. So sorry, I know it sounds like a very interesting installment.

Being part of the Harry Potter mania, we decided to celebrate the release of the new book by attending The Bakken museum. They dedicated an entire Saturday to the Harry Potter theme, having crafts and treats and cool props from the actual movies for us crazy fans to view or partake in. Our first stop was the craft room, where we made a magic wand--or, I should say, our friend Brian Billadeau--dad of Vivian's friend Emily--made a magic wand. I know this is a museum dedicated to the science of electricity, but please! Not all of us are Benjamin Franklin! After connecting a few wires, I was lost. Thanks to Brian, we do have a working wand. Besides the wand-making, there were also wizard hats to construct and design (the girls skipped this one) owl puppets (the paper bag kind--not such a big deal) and bookmarks to stamp, to go with your new book.

In the midst of all of this hullaballoo, WCCO and their camera crew were there to cover the happenings. At one point they approached our little group and asked if we wanted to be on TV, talking about the day. The Billadeau clan decided they were going to be humble and not shamelessly try to get themselves on the news, but not I. I have no shame when it comes to getting myself on camera. Vivian pretended she didn't really care, but decided she would, too--we all know she has too much of her mother in her to be shy. So! They spent a few moments asking us some questions about the event.

After all was said and done, there I was, on the 6 o'clock news! I was the only one that got a spot, Coreman just had to give me a high five. But, alas, Vivian didn't make the cut--and she was not too happy about it. What a horrible mother I am, stealing the limelight from my daughter! But I did try to warn her--the media are a fickle bunch. They can spend an hour interviewing you and maybe show two seconds of it, if anything at all. I know this from experience.

Do any of you remember that show "Hard Copy"? Sort of a pre-reality TV show where they covered some seedy story--the more scandalous the better, all under the guise of 'real news'. Back in L.A., someone from my band knew someone who knew someone who worked on that show, and this person came down to Club Lingerie, where I was a hard working cocktail waitress (but I'm REALLY a singer!) to interview me. Something about bands, and being on the streets of Hollywood, but I swear I can not remember the details of what it was supposed to be about. (not WORKING the streets of Hollywood, mind you--I did a lot of things in my day, but that was not one of them!) Like I mentioned before, they interviewed me extensively for quite some time, and imagine my disappointment as I settled myself in front of the TV, thinking I was going to get all this exposure for my band, man...only to see something that resembled me flash by so quickly you would have missed it if you blinked. Life in show business. Still, I have it on tape somewhere. My milli-second of fame.

So, on July 16th, 2005 Harry Potter and I had our moment in the sun. I feel so proud.

Sugar and Spice

Just when my friends and family thought they were off the hook for a while of having to subjectively give an opinion about another creative venture of mine, I come up with Sugar and Spice. I know there is nothing worse than having to give any sort of artist an honest opinion of their work--I mean, they tell you they REALLY want to know what you think, when honestly, deep down, they REALLY don't want to hear you say that you think said work really sucks. So here is an official apology--SORRY! And now, when you hear Sugar and Spice, please tell me what you think! :-)

No, Sugar and Spice is not a new band venture (already been done), or even a new song. (not exactly metal.) At some point in the recent past I decided I really needed to write a children's story. This particular one came to me on a walk with my kids, actually, talking about cats and good names for them. I thought Sugar and Spice would be great for a pair of cat friends, and my brain immediately flooded with ideas about them and their little adventures. Hence, Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice was born. I'm hoping it will be the first installment of many books about them. (I honestly think we are not conscious of the stories that come into our brains--they just mysteriously write themselves!)

I've puttered with different story lines over the past year or so, and finally finished a complete story. Of course, that is the fun part. Trying to actually DO something with it is a whole other, well, story! I love the creative part of it, but not the 'work' part. My illustrious husband came up with a great idea to help me with this--to use our Warbride studio and record the book on CD! Now I realize that the written books normally preceed the audio ones...but I figure if nothing else it will be fun to hear it, (I think I've mentioned before that I love to hear myself talk) and a good way to try to shop it around, if there actually is some interest in it. It's been really fun, and as always with something like this, more work than you think it will be. Reading a story out loud? No big deal, I thought, I read to my kids all the time and enjoy making goofy voices and being really dramatic. (I know, such a surprise, coming from me...!) It really has been more of a challenge than I imagined. Reading so slowly and affected that you feel like you sound like an idiot, when actually as the 'tape' rolls back, it sounds just right. And trying to get the voices of the characters spot on. It's not an easy thing and makes me have even more respect for anyone who does voice-over work. (that includes you, Mr. Gary Bingner!)

So! That's the latest around here. Just another project to try to squeeze into an already very short day. Soon there will be a website you can go to, to eventually hear a 'snippet' of the story and where I can shamelessly ask you to buy it. Like it or not, I'll keep you posted. :-)

Art

There was an old fellow named Art
Who awoke with a terrible start,
For down by his rump was a terrible lump
Of what should have just been a fart.
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I realize that this is ridiculous and off color and very juvenile. And I love it! :-)
(Although I wish I was the original author, I must credit Dr. Benjamin Bart for this lovely limerick!)

Go Ahead, Make My Day...

...or my month, or my year, or my entire mid-life crisis which I don't necessarily feel like I'm having, but I must be to be singing metal and wearing a Legolas t-shirt. A few days ago, I had the most amazing compliment bestowed upon me. I was picking Vivian up from a friend's house. I knocked, waited a few moments, and then was told to come in. The mother then informed me that as I waited outside the door, her 12 year old boy went to see who was there and reported, "Oh, it's not Vivian's mom...it's some teenage girl." !! I had to totally contain myself from running over and inappropriately giving that boy a big 'ol kiss of thanks! Instead, keeping true to teenage form, I just told him that he rocked. I was so high that I ran out and bought a bikini. Maybe I really shouldn't be wearing one, but hey. Teenage girls do! I'm going to get a lot of mileage out of this one. (the compliment, that is...the bikini will probably last one summer before I snap out of it and realize that I'm a one-piece kind of gal) I'm just going to keep telling myself that it really was ME he made the comment about, and not just the Legolas tshirt.

409?! Who knew?!

WARNING: those of you who are totally domestically disabled and would sooner read a car manual than any sort of blog entry about laundry, than this is not for you. But I have discovered a stain-removal secret that I just have to share. You know those annoying grease stains that sneak up on you, those little dots that magically appear all over your favorite t-shirt after you have just stir-fried some vegetables in oil or sauteed shrimp in butter? I was recently plagued by this very thing and I ran to the ever-luvin' internet to help me out. Lo and behold, I found a tip about 409. I guess that makes sense--409 is a toxic grease cutter, so it should cut through that stuff. I tried it reluctantly, hoping it wouldn't eat holes through in the process. Wahoo, it worked! The tipper had said it works best if you spray it on the stains before drying, but I also tried it on a shirt I thought was lost but too sad to toss, and sure enough, those nasty stains came out! 409 is my new miracle product! Think if I spray it on Bush, he might go away?