I can’t sleep. It seems my mind is in a race for the Nobel Prize for Fictional (What if scenarios) Writing. If I’m not careful those racing thoughts lead to tight chests and more sleepless nights. so… When that happens, I come down stairs, spend time talking to God, search for Oreos, fire up my lap top and write out the craziest of scenarios my brain can conjure until I laugh myself stupid – and then if I still can’t sleep, I go through my silly thought file.
Some silly thoughts, I thought I’d share:
Have you ever stopped to think…..and forgot to start again?
If you arrest a mime does he have the right to remain silent?
How do you know when it’s time to tune your bagpipes?
What happens when you get scared half to death a second time?
Why is it called lipstick if you can still move your lips?
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to see it, do the other trees make fun of it?
‘“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what’s the first thing you say to yourself?” “What’s for breakfast?” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?” “I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?” said Piglet. Pooh nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the same thing,” he said.’ -A.A. Milne
Edited to add on April 23 – my favorite new show of the season “the Defenders” has been cancelled by CBS. That stinks. I didn’t even DVR it, so now I’ll never see the episodes that I missed. It’s a sad sad day in my house.
News has it CBS is moving them from Wednesday night at 10 pm to Friday at 8 (7 Central) Seriously? crap, there goes my favorite show. That’s right CBS is moving their new hit show The Defenders (10 Million Viewers strong) to Fridays starting on February 8.
Yes, CBS tends to do well on Fridays – not that I would know because honestly, I don’t watch TV on Fridays. Granted that is due in large part to there is nothing good on TV on Friday nights. Besides,Friday is date night so who in heaven’s name are they trying to recruit here? My teenagers aren’t even home on Fridays.
According to the Detroit News a lot of shows are changing time slots. NBC is planning on moving Law and Order SVU to their 10 pm time slot on Wednesdays and Fox moved Human Target to the same time slot. I’m speculating that is why CBS moved my show. SVU and Human Target are tough to compete against. So maybe – just maybe CBS knows what they are doing.
And so we have it, the Defenders will be on at 8 (7 Central) starting on February 8 and Blue Bloods (with Tom Selleck) will be on at 10 (9 Central). I’m hoping they don’t plan on keeping Medium in the middle at 9 because that will be the death of all three. Seriously, I cannot imagine viewers staying for Medium – but who knows, maybe they will.
On a positive note, Dan Aykroyd is joining the cast of The Defenders for a short stint – that reason alone is worth following the show to Fridays. I love him. I hope they survive.
On a more neurotic note:
I’ve been checking my stats and it seems my post about my Jim Belushi dream is in the lead. Great. I have ONE weird dream about Jim Belushi and make the crazy mistake of writing about it, and suddenly people from Albania, Chicago, and Canada are on that one entry, daily — uhm, is there something I should know? That one piece is getting more hits than the rest of my stuff.
Look – I don’t know him – the closest I’ve come to knowing him or any of the other SNL guys is I sat in the parking lot of Second City for two hours back in 1987 and chickened out of auditioning – that’s it. I’m a neurotic former-coward trying to make good by refusing to chicken out of anything else today and I’m having a blast doing it.
I’ve spent the past ten years working behind the scenes of social awareness fundraisers, promoting other artists, writing and selling jokes, and MCing events. I’ve never been the headliner – I never thought of being a headliner until I met another comic six years ago and she talked me into getting over myself – and going for it.
I drive two hours each way for five-minute gigs and open mics.
I stand in line for hours at a time in cattle-call auditions.
I send in photos for commercial bids.
I talk to agents and casting directors.
I beg.
That’s just how it is. And I love it.
When it comes to Jim or anyone else from SNL, I’m just a fan – the kind of fan that would squeak, blush, and throw up if I ever met him or anyone else from the good old days of SNL . And if my track record is indicative of anything, I’d probably have a wardrobe malfunction as well.
Charlie goes back to college tomorrow. I’ve enjoyed my month off with my family and now it’s time to get back to daily life. Have a great weekend ya’ll.
Really thankful I’m not an unwed, teenager, having divine visions, riding a donkey while in labor, looking for a safe place to have a baby who’s primary purpose in life is to die!
Sheesh. That puts “holiday stress” into perspective.
May we all remember the reason for the season.
Merry Christmas!
My friend Robbie posted this on Facebook and I LOVE it! – Merry Christmas everyone!
Wednesday was our day to load up the furniture we’ve gathered for our fishing cabin and haul it out to Adair. We all worked really hard loading and unloading the moving van. I guess moving day was a little rough on the boys though.
D-Man is out like a light.
and so is C-Man
Teenagers are so cute when they are asleep you know?
While researching my blog statistics to determine my top posts for 2010, I discovered that I have a rather eclectic following. Among my friends from high school, college, family, and pastors wives can be found others as well. This other category is rather eclectic. And so I would like to thank everyone who has read or commented in 2010. A tongue in cheek look if you will.
Thank you:
Pastors & Pastor’s Wives, I appreciate you. – I really do. You guys help me stay real and hopefully I’m able to share some really cool resources as I find them. I hope anyway. You guys have the most difficult job I know.
There are also the Pastor’s Watchdogs who go back and tell other pastors that I’m doing it wrong. I appreciate you as well, believe it or not.
Thank you friends and family from Michigan, as well as elsewhere in the US, you know who you are and I really do appreciate you.
Thank you to the Pentagon who has been on my page at least twice this year. As an only child, I’ve always wanted a big brother.
Thank you Komrads from Russia – without you I would not know I need to drink more tea.
Thank you Africa for your missionaries and those who wish to give me an inheritance.
Thank you PX90 for telling me I need you, every day, all year-long — stop it already, you’re giving me a complex.
Thank you all for telling me how I can win the lottery, bed a girl a day, lose weight, manage my money, drink tea, bet on races, move to Vegas, buy prescription drugs, and everything else a girl needs to know in this day and age.
Thank you everyone who has taken time out of their day to come read what I have to say. I’m blessed humbled, and thankful for you all. Have a very blessed Christmas.
I still can’t believe I actually got to meet the Osmond Brothers. (Sighs, and private screams allowed) Several of us got to go back stage during intermission – I took my husband of course – and met Merrill, Wayne, and Jay Osmond. Color me happy. And more than a little nervous. Remember how I said I don’t get star struck? Well I don’t normally, but I saw Merrill and fear hit my entire body. I can only compare what happened to when we were kids and waiting in line for Santa. We were totally excited right up until it was our turn, and then fear took over. It was kind of like that.
We waited in line back stage for our chance to meet the brothers and suddenly it was my turn. I took one look and Merrill and BAM, my heart dropped into my stomach and my feet felt like lead. I grabbed my husband and made him come with me so that he could remind me my name if needed. Which is good because I forgot it. Not only am I a walking catastrophe, I’m apparently a dork. Jay Osmond is warm and funny and snapped me out of it, but still. I froze like I’ve never frozen before. I’m amazed I even had the wherewithal to remember I was married and to whom.
Going back stage was a huge treat. It was wonderful. And I didn’t cry until..
I got my picture back.
You know that really pretty black blouse I bought?
I was rushed when I got ready and forgot to change bras.
They all look great. I look like I leaned over a table of powdered donuts.
And no. You can’t see it.
That is one photograph that even Photoshop can’t help (I know because I tried) and I do not wish to wind up on Ellen DeGeneres’ hall of shame.
The show itself was very sweet. Three of the original four, Merrill, Wayne, and Jay performed and they did a great job singing Christmas songs as well as songs from the years passed, including He Ain’t Heavy, Yo Yo, Love Me for a Reason and many more. My heart absolutely soared.
In case you are wondering, Jim Osmond does perform with them from time to time and he is in England right now doing a play. (Yes, I still remember all of the words from Long Haired Lover from Liverpool.) Donny and Marie are on Broadway and Alan retired last year because of MS. And did you know that Wayne had a brain tumor 19 years ago and is a cancer survivor? I didn’t. Amazing.
The three brothers (and their back up) did a wonderful job and as nice as it would have been to see the whole family again, I didn’t miss them not being there. The harmonies, the banter and the memories were relaxed and as comfortable as home. Jay can still play a mean drum solo, Merrill is as charming and handsome as ever and Wayne? Let’s just say he reminds me of that uncle everyone has, but no one talks about. His jokes and comedic timing were absolutely splendid. My husband cannot get over some of those jokes. They were that good.
It’s fun seeing a group of musicians, most my own age or older, who still have that natural talent, strong work ethic, and great sense of humor work together with such ease and comfort. All those years of hard work still shines through in their performing. They are timeless.
Will I see them again? Oh yeah. The show was wonderful and besides, I need a redemptive photographic do over that doesn’t come with a wardrobe malfunction. I’m claiming female prerogative on that one. Seriously if you saw the picture, you would totally understand.
It’s Christmas and I realized today that my blog is as dark as my house at night — we were too busy this fall to put up lights and now our neighbors are shunning us. We are the black hole of Broken Arrow and they think we’re atheists. We’re not, it’s just that it’s too cold out to be climbing up on ladders and I’m afraid of heights as it is. Having said that, I feel the need to lighten the tone here about a few thousand watts. SO… Let’s talk Christmas songs. Our family has a tradition of either singing in or going to The Messiah at First Lutheran every year. I sang this year and I’m proud to tell y’all I did not fall off the stage once. Our chairs were precariously close to the edge. One bad note and I’m certain the bass singers would have shoved me off. Thankfully they didn’t.
We also like to listen to Nat King Cole and the Trans Siberian Orchestra. Not to make y’all think I’m a classical purist, our family’s favorite song is — Grandma Got Run Over By A reindeer, that and Jeff Foxworthy’s Redneck Days of Christmas.
I thought I’d heard them all until I opened the paper today. I need to warn you — or place blame – either one but my favorite Tulsa Scene writer is Jason Ashley Wright hands down. I especially like his monthly lingen…langen…loungin… a little something something as he calls it.. I can’t spell it. It’s some Cajun word. ANYWHOO..he was talking about Christmas Songs today and he mentioned I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas. It’s apparently classic and shockingly, I’ve never heard of it.
I’m an ADHD, neurotic redhead — I don’t like not knowing about things. I feel left out. I looked it up on YouTube, and I don’t feel left out anymore. It’s really cute!
It’s so cute that I’m going to share it with you guys. I know, you feel special now don’t you.
My husband and I are getting ready to close on our new fishing cabin / personal retreat in Adair Oklahoma. For the next week or so, I’ll be busy packing, sorting, and cleaning things up. I am also getting ready for Thanksgiving and Christmas. In short, I won’t have much time to write. In the meantime, I thought you guys would enjoy some older posts. I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
The Neurotic Messiah, copyright December 2000.
Oh no! What have I done? I cannot read a single note. Not one. This score is much more complicated Than I ever anticipated.
I haven’t sung in a choir for twenty year. And so began my chorus of fears.
The starts, the stops, the highs, the lows The beats, the counts, the arpeggios. The conductors who speak in some foreign tongue Is it Latin, or Italian? I know not which one.
The M’s and P’s, and F’s and M’s. Oh, these aren’t your typical church service hymns. Am I an “S” or not an “S” I do not know and now they say my costume I need to sew.
Light the fire but don’t take it out?! Would someone please tell me what that was about?
Now I’m told to sing like Ethel Merman and that we aren’t singing, but giving a sermon.
Oh how I’m beginning to rue the day when Sue Paulison said “Come on let’s play. You don’t need to audition, just show up and sing. Being a part of “The Messiah” is a wonderful thing.”
I’m now thinking my impulse to do this was rash. This may be a check I’ve written that my body can’t cash.
This is not good, not good at all, but then again, does pride not come before the fall?
I drove straight home and on my bed I sat telling my husband, I’m not going back! And that is that!
Then standing in the hallway whom did I see but my 9-year-old son list-ening to me. “I thought you once said don’t ever quit. So please tell me now, why are you doing it?”
I searched through my brain to frantically look for some wise answer to get me off the hook. Failing that I tried for the truth Hoping somehow he’d understand, even in his youth.
“That may be true.” I answer, “But don’t you see? There’s too much to learn and it’s too hard for me. Besides, I really can’t sing, not like the rest.” And he said “That’s okay Mom; just do your best. God won’t mind, just wait and see. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”
And so I sat with a guilty heart wondering when my son got so smart. And wondering why he now would choose to remember my words and those words use.
Then henceforth came my next blessing I caught a cold while I was dressing. I coughed and sneezed and wheezed and gasped. My voice, once loud, now barely rasped.
I cannot sing and cough no sir, they have to let me drop now, I’m sure. No guilt, no blame, It’s not my fault. This cruel dance can finally come to a halt.
But Leon’s good. He doesn’t miss a trick. You’d better get well and get well quick. I’ll let you sing you’ll do just fine, people catch colds all the time. And so went my last excuse. Fighting God on this one seemed no use.
My costume’s all sewn by my friend Cyndi, with care, At least now I will have something to wear.
I thought a “piano” is what you played and not what you sang and this cold still makes me sound like a cat in the rain. I’m not an “S” and this much I know that’s to keep us from hissing during the show.
The Marys and Josephs have been picked out with care now if only they could decide when they’ll be there.
The last practice has come we should know what to do. Stand up straight, bend your knees, and that includes you. The Altos still outnumber the rest by a score, next year could you please try soprano some more.
The orchestra is with us, it’s coming together. Somehow I doubt we could get any better.
Tell us Pastor Carter how does it sound now that we’ve done this last go around?
“It needs to be crisp, we’ve lost that somehow. Remember, you are praising God, so let’s pull it together now. Sopranos are too strong, bring it down just a bit. Bass’s your not emphasizing the lines that you hit. Tenors and Altos your entrances are late, but other than that I think it sounds great.”
Our differences we have quietly tucked away, as all Tulsa Lutheran churches sing in har-mony this day. Clear and true our music does ring as we all praise and worship our new-born King.
All fears and joking are now put aside. This is a worship service and our joy we can’t hide.
The true story of Christmas can only be told through the lives of the ones who dare to Behold.
“Behold! I bring you tidings of great joy which shall be to all
people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior which is
Christ the Lord.”
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We will be celebrating our 90th year this December 4, 2010. Won’t you please join us at First Lutheran Church on 13th and Utica for this wonderful presentation of the Christmas Story.
Rumor has it, great romances involve planning. Every good relationship book will tell you that you have to plan for time together in order to keep romance in marriage alive and well. What every good relationship book does not tell you is there is a right way, and a wrong way for such planning.
Movies make it look easy. All a woman has to do is show up in his office for a surprise lunch wearing nothing but a fur coat, that sort of thing. The real world? If I did that, my coat would get stuck in the elevator and I’d wind up on his floor with just my shoes. Oh yeah, he’d be surprised alright. Along with the rest of his staff.
Still, I want adventure and I like doing fun things for my husband, but…
I tried to get creative once. It didn’t work.
I found his blackberry one night and decided to write on his calendar. I picked a random date out in the future and posted a lunch meeting for him to “go home and ravish wife.” AKA me.
Did you know that a Corporate issued Blackberry syncs up with corporate calendars?
Me neither.
And apparently, corporate secretaries have access to corporate calendars.
Husbands do not like getting phone calls from their secretary saying “Mr Robinson wants to schedule a lunch meeting with you for Tuesday, but it says here you are supposed to be ravishing your wife at that time. Should I reschedule that appointment or move Mr Robinson to a different date?”
I love my Bears.
I love my husband.
I love watching my Bears WITH my husband.
Our oldest is away at college.
Our youngest was at work.
We are alone.
On the couch.
Watching the pre-game show.
When the old quarterbacks start talking about Cutler and Thigpen.
I can’t make this up.
One former quarterback to another:
“Thigpen might be third string for Miami, but he’s got a great tight end.”
Seriously, would YOU let a comment like that pass you by?
It gets better.
Another announcer mispronounces the word “version” and says “Every team has a virgin like that.”
My husband has decided that the boys can never move away.
Deana O'Hara - Speaker, Comedian, Writer 