I am my mother's daughter.

It’s one of those cold New England days outside – the ones where the temperature is so low that even penguins think it’s too cold and the wind is sharp and cuts through your soul like a hot knife through butter.

I’m actually kind of glad, though. I was beginning to think winter had forgotten us altogether. We’ve been really fortunate and had mild temperatures (read: 30’s and 40’s), and I was worried that we wouldn’t have anything to complain about. But now that both the Sox and the Pats have betrayed our love (and don’t get me wrong – I don’t think either of those teams deserved to win the way they were playing), and we’ve had a miserably cold day, I think we’re on track to be able to keep that surly demeanor that New Englanders are so famous for in the winter time. =)

But that’s not the subject of this blog, really. I just thought I’d let you know we’d finally hit winter here. (PS – snow does not make it winter. It’s snowed here a couple times, but that doesn’t make it winter. It snows in May here. I wouldn’t really be shocked if it snowed in June sometime. The windy cold days like today are the ones that make it winter.)

In any case, speaking of the Pats losing….last night I confirmed what I have long held as a deep and sneaking suspicion: I have inherited my mother’s genetic makeup when it comes to sports-watching behavior.

An inherent part of our family’s lore is the story of my mother and the neighbors and the ball game. My parents lived in a house in Charlottesville that had a decent-sized yard, with some neighbors that also had a decent-sized yard. Now, the neighbors weren’t so far from us as our neighbors are now – we live in the country now and have good space, but for the city, these houses had a good 50 yards between them, I’d guess. Not bad, really. In any case, my parents were watching some sort of University of Virginia sporting event (a basketball game, most likely) and things were either very close or not going well for the ‘Hoos. In any case, much to their surprise, the doorbell rang. Turns out, the neighbors (who were friends with my folks) had heard my mother yelling and were concerned for my family’s safety. That’s how passionate my mom is when she watches sports: she gets so worked up and yells like she’s at the game, like she’s on the sidelines and the players can hear her, even when she’s in her own house, miles away. =) My dad loves to tell this story with a snicker, and I have to admit I’ve always loved it too.

Until last night, when I became my mother. I, too, have always been passionate about sports. I was that kid you see on TV at college games decked out in full team colors with the tattoos on her cheeks screaming and yelling at the ref to get some glasses. But I’m not sure I’ve done anything worthy of “disturbing the peace” when watching sports at home, until recently. Or, at least, I’ve ignored the fact that I’ve been a loudmouth. But last night, as I watched the Pats game with Jay and his roommate and his roommate’s girlfriend, I drew some stares from the folks in the room as I yelled out instructions to the players and expletives at the refs. And the funny thing is, I caught myself doing this, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from doing it. When I realized that the Pats didn’t deserve to win the game because they were playing atrociously (although I do believe that pass interference call on Asante Samuel was bulls**t), I decided watching the game was bad for my blood pressure and I decided to read a magazine and take a nap rather than work myself up for a lost cause. And again, I realized that this is what my mom does now – she’ll watch a game and if it’s not too exciting or stressful she’ll continue, but the moment she gets too worked up for too long, she’ll go read a book and take a nap.

I’m proud to continue such a fine family tradition of passion for our sports teams. I’m also proud to continue the tradition of naps. In the end, when I took a nap, I was ultimately not giving up on my team, but paying homage to Tom Brady, who himself took a nap before his first super bowl. =) And, of course, I was paying homage to my mother, who has taught me a great deal about passion, and also about when to know your limits.

Thanks, Mom. =)

I am the King, I wish for bacon!

Confession #3: I am a music geek. I love music. Now, I'm not geeky enough that I know everything about every genre and/or every artist. To be honest, I don't even really investigate too heavily into the artists I like...at least, not beyond their albums and tour dates. But when I like a song, I want to know the words to it. I can still remember (and this is where the embarassing part of the confession comes in) sitting up late one night with my friend Beth, listening to a tape of C&C Music Factory, learning the words to "Gonna Make You Sweat" (better know as the "Everybody Dance Now" song). We'd listen, rewind, listen, rewind, write down some lyrics, then repeat endlessly. Once we had all the lyrics written down, we listened to the song without stopping it and sang (or rapped, if you will) along.

That's right. I loved C&C Music Factory, and I'm not ashamed of it.

I'd like to take a moment here and acknowledge Laura, who was the first to bring this topic to light. I'm going to start where she started, and then take it to a broader scale.

So, sometimes I'm not lucky enough to own the song I want the lyrics to. Sadly, I'm often not lucky enough to even like the song I want to know the lyrics to, but it keeps getting stuck in my head from the radio and the only way to get it out is to sing it correctly; otherwise I'm walking around all day singing what I *know* to be the wrong words to the song, trying to figure out how to change the wrong words into something that makes sense. Example:

The Killers have a song called "Somebody Told Me." It's on my workout mix...I enjoy The Killers. Good tuneage. So here's what I heard when I was singing along (I have put line breaks where there are pauses in the songs):

Somebody told me
That you had a boyfriend
Who looked like a girlfriend
That I had in Bellvue
Heeeeeeeeeeey last year
It's not confidential
I've got potential

I even had a whole story worked out where Bellvue was a mental institution he was in. Turns out this is what they're saying:

Somebody told me
That you had a boyfriend
Who looked like a girlfriend
That I had in Febru-
Aaaary of last year....

And so on. In my defense, it's kinda not fair. They broke a word in the middle of a pause. In any case, there it is.

As I'm writing this, I'll have you know, that I'm at work in the ER, and the attending doctor pointed out to me that I can look up any lyrics I want on the internet. My response to this is: yes, I know, but the song is only in my head when I'm not near a computer, and when I'm near a computer the song is not in my head and so I don't think to look it up. But I mean, I was pretty set on the Bellvue thing - so how do you think I found out about February? =)

There's another song on the radio right now by Fallout Boy called "Sugar We're Goin' Down." My version of the chorus:

We're going downtown
And we're tooling around
And Sugar we're goin' down swingin...

The real version:

We're going down, down
In an earlier round
And Sugar we're goin' down swingin...

Ah, misheard lyrics. They're the best. I actually have a book called 'Scuse Me While I Kiss This Guy that has a list of misheard lyrics (the title being from the Jimmy Hendrix classic Purple Rain and the real lyrics being "Scuse me, while I kiss the sky").

Along with the misheard lyric theme comes a whole slew of song anomalies. For example, it was brought to my attention this holiday season that not everyone sings the classic "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" the same way. When I was younger, we would add in extra little "chants" at the end of each line, like this:

Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer (reindeer)
Had a very shiny nose (like a lightbulb)
And if you ever saw it (saw it)
You would even say it glows (like a light bulb)
All of the other reindeer (reindeer)
Used to laugh and call him names (like Pinocchio)
They never let poor Rudolph (Rudolph)
Join in any reindeer games (like Monopoly)
Then one foggy Christmas Eve
Santa came to say (Ho, ho, ho)
Rudolph with your nose so bright
Won't you guide my sleigh tonight
Then how the reindeer loved him (loved him)
As they shouted out with glee (Yippee!)
Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer (reindeer)
You'll go down in his-tor-eeeeeeeee (like Columbus)

I know that the last line is often altered (like George Washington, like the Red Sox, etc), but as it turns out, some people don't add in the Pinnocchio, Monopoly, and Ho, ho, ho lines. Who knew?

In the same vein, I tend to make up words to songs that don't have words. I can't come up with an example right now, but some famous examples include Bill Murray's brilliant rendition of the Star Wars theme and different versions of Hail to the Chief (which, as I just found out, actually has words) in My Fellow Americans:

Hail to the chief, he's the chief and he needs hailing. He is the chief, so everybody hail like crazy.

and in Dave:

Hail to the chief he's the one we all say hail to...

These kinds of things never fail to crack me up.

Finally, when I'm in a really FANTASTIC mood and everything is fun to me, I make up a tune and the lyrics to it. It's hard to describe, but it's sort of like creating a soundtrack to what I'm doing at the time. So if I'm washing laundry I make up a laundry-washing song. Things like that. It gets rather silly, and it makes things even more fun. =)

So there's my menagerie of thoughts on my music geekiness. And now you have something to entertain you at work (Emily) or home (Mom and Dad) for a while. I'll work on something new to post sometime soon, and if it ever slows down at work (upstairs), then I'll put it up here. In the meantime, HAPPY NEW YEAR! =)