Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Cinci

OK I didn't actually say much about Thanksgiving in my last blog. I have, however, changed my location from my brother eddie's bed in new orleans (he sleeps on the couch downstairs because he gets in so late from being "out" and i'm passing out by 11, and my other brother David took over my bedroom...the only other bedroom is a storage unit now so whenever the whole family's home, we have to fight to the death to claim a good room), to Nashville in the room I'm renting, which will be a nursery in about 6 months. Sad to say (but for some of you who are very evil and don't want me to be confident and happy, you'll be excited to hear this), I'm feeling a little more like a minnow in the ocean and I miss my family. Humble and lonely. I especially miss my mom. She makes me feel like I am the most talented creature on the face of this planet. While I was home, she spent about an hour just listening to all my new songs. And whenever I make ANY sort of joke, she laughs really hard. But my favorite part about my mom, Cinci (short for Cynthia, it sounds like sin-see), is that she is totally weird.

She flushes a toilet whenEVER she goes into a bathroom in our home (in case there's a hurricane and we need to drink water out of the toilet. I'd rather drink my own pee.) This means that every time she enters a room in the house, the toilet gets flushed.

She starts statements like this "You know when you wake up in the middle of the night and you've just had a throw-up burp?..." like everyone wakes in the middle of the night tasting their throw up burps.

She always has a solution to why she is sick. My dad bought this memory foam mattress and my mom said, "I figured out why your father is snoring so loud and why I'm having horrible sinus problems... it's the foam mattress, we're allergic to it."

Whenever she hears a good band (like if we're at a ball or a fabulous part), she goes to the VERY front, usually dragging my sister or me out (because my dad's ears buzz with music that's too loud and he sucks at dancing honestly), and dances for HOURS.

The other morning, my mom was reading newspaper after newspaper and I said, "Mom, you should get a job. You'd do REALLY well with people in some little snooty retail place on Magazine Street" and she said "I have a job, it's called 4 children." then i said "you're reading the newspaper, that's not a job." and she said, "it's part of my job." and I said, "Dad, is reading the newspaper a job?" and he pretends like he's ignoring us but he loves it. and mom really thinks reading the newspaper is part of her job.

My mother goes HAYWIRE when the maids are coming. She cleans the house almost completely and does the laundry and the dishes...I think this is so they deep clean but I'm still not sure. But she kind of gets like a sargeant so we all just have to leave.

She has made up a language that sort of sounds like Spanish and she speaks it to her poodle Cappi (short for Cappucino). Then at the end of the speech, which lasts about a minute and thirty seconds, she says "ring chunk a ring chunk" and rolls the r's. My sister does this as well with her two pugs.

She is the most hyper person you will ever experience. She could literally converse with a wall or a lamp for hours. And be totally fine. I have told her in the past few months "mom, stop asking me questions, i can't handle it."

Cinci makes us (her children) take a "birthday picture" every year. At first, we just had to put a shirt on, then she found this ridiculously huge birthday pin, then she found a hat, and a pair of crazy sunglasses and somehow, the woman actually found a blowup birthday cake. (she also owns a blow up turkey, a blow up snowglobe, and a blowup santa. Ask me what WT means)

She is very passionate and thinks that bee-otch isn't a cuss word.

She is so compassionate, she gives me and my three siblings the SAME EXACT AMOUNT every Christmas...down to the penny. She doesn't want ANYONE to feel like they're favored (even though I am). My dad tells a story about asking each child individually: me, Catherine, Eddie, and David, about who we all thought mom favored. And we each said, "isn't it obvious, she favors me." She loves to spoil her children. I was thinking as I drove home tonight, "Why do I feel so good and full and beautiful and uniquely gifted in New Orleans?" And i think a big part is due to my mom. She loves me for who I am, just where I am and how I am. Which sounds a lot like God. Around this time last year, I started having panic attacks. And she answered her cell phone at 5 a.m. when I called her, or 3 a.m., and just talked me through it. When I came home because I couldn't get a hold of myself, her life stopped and she catered to mine. And she said, "you don't know suffering until your child suffers and there's nothing you can do about it." As a 25 year old, there's nothing worse than being totally helpless to your body as it shakes and shudders and you lose control. Mom comforted me. She told me the most important thing, and it didn't have to do with God or religion or any other thing I was DESPERATLY trying to hold onto to fix me. She said "I have been through this and you will be OK, just like I am." And I AM better, and I think I understand God's love a little bit more because of her.

Then she went to jury duty and when asked if anyone had a problem with doing jury duty, she said "I suffer from panic attacks." AND GOT OUT OF IT. you better believe I'm using that excuse. Well, that's mom. I'm going to try to put a picture up but I don't really know how.

Well i'll leave you with this as I end and go to bed: I got my mom's passion. We used to have knock down drag out fights while I was in the throes of adolescence and we'd both be crying and slamming doors and breaking things. I can't TELL you how many times I said "I will NEVER BE LIKE HER!!!" But now, I hope to be like her when I become a mother.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Thanksgiving and intro.

This is my third attempt to start this blog so I'm just going to start it. I usually try to be clever and creative and "hook the reader." Which is really, in the songwriting world, a trick to sell a song (which is a tragedy that I've come to terms with about art versus business, but I'll save that soapbox for another time.) I tried twice to be clever and it was lame. I have to blog and let the world know about my life, because, however pretentious or cocky this may sound, mine is TRULY fascinating.

Now, I've just gone through one of my hardest years and I'm finally on the other side, so now that I am laughing again, it's easy to find things to laugh about. And lately, I LITERALLY get drunk off of the people around me. I have this insatiable appetite to KNOW people. Yes I am dramatic. But that's a part of me so get over it. My sister described me perfectly the other night (when she was trying to be condescending). She says I am a 14 year old girl. And I totally am. It's wrong but I LOVE gossip, I didn't even realize that OK, People, and US Weekly were gossip magazines until a friend up north told me they were. I still read them. And i find gossip is the thing I most often repent to Jesus about. Honestly, I'm tired of trying to be a quiet, introverted, waifish, trendy hipster (this is something I feel like I want to be to fit into this ridiculous crowd in Nashville). I got over that after my most recent heartbreak, which was life altering. And I am in this beautifully amazing place of accepting who I am. And since you're reading, I'll let you in on me. I am loud. I love food (mouthgasm is one of my favorite words, and I usually have one at every meal. Seriously, when I had my first kiss (which was amazing by the way), I compared it to delicious food). I fall in love with anyone who will give me the time of day. I'm competitive. I desperately need to be affirmed. I still try to prove myself to my dad. I'm worth being pursued. I don't really have time for people who are going to screw me over. I am a fan of therapy and medicine. I go to a therapist and take Prozac. I usually tell people too much. I grew up Baptist and I have a hard time with the concept of grace. BUT, I'm learning that everything is NOT black and white and that gray is actually a beautiful color, and that not all Baptists are bad. I've spent most of this Thanksgiving break laughing with my mom. I play tetris and stac (this amazing widget) and get ticked if someone beats my high score. Namely my sister. I got engaged after 3 months of dating someone, and I don't regret it at all. I'm really good at writing ballads. I love cracking my neck, my fingers, my toes, and my back. I have great eyelashes and just this morning, I was admiring my ears. I could drink the ranch that they serve at Chili's. And yes, I like Chili's even though it is not trendy. I like REAL mayonnaise and butter. And now I'm getting tired. More later.