Friday, July 31, 2009

Stealing Toilet Paper from the Library

I actually wanted to write something about this in my other blog today, but when I came home to do just that, I ended up picking up my guitar and wrote a little song about it instead. Something I would probably not typically do, but these days, because of the 50/90 challenge, all my thoughts seem to turn into to little songs.

So yes, it's true. There was a type written sign in the bathroom of my library today asking the patrons to please not take the toilet paper home. It said some of there employees had seen people walking out with rolls of toilet paper. Hmm. I found it so odd. And kind of funny. The library is one of the nicest places in my world. They let you check out stuff (books, magazines, cds, dvds)and bring it home FOR FREE, people! So it seemed especially funny that some think it's okay to also check out the toilet paper.
Stealing Toilet Paper from the Library

I know that crime happens every single day
I know that times are tough and it's difficult to save
I understand the challenge of affording all your needs
To get your food and shelter 'cuz money doesn't grow on trees

But I can't imagine how hard it's got to be
When you're stealing toilet paper from the library

I went to check a book out at my local branch
I stopped in at the bathroom first so I could wash my hands
That's when I read the sign that said, "We're running kind of low...
...we're almost out of toilet paper, so please don't take it home."


There have been no arrests yet, they haven't caught the crooks
Who stole the toilet paper while checking out some books
Times are hard for the libraries too
They've suffered budget cuts and now a heist in the bathroom!


Criminal Activity at the Library

False advertising on my headline here.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Ode To Pinky

My brother is one of the most generous gift givers. He's done some crazy stuff like: taken me on a few trips with him to Maui, bought me my first really nice guitar, and the latest amazing gift he gave me last month for my birthday- my bike! This is not just a bike. This is a bike that gets noticed for sure! So it's quite fitting it was given to me by my brother, who seems to get noticed wherever he goes, too!

He met me at his bike shop, and let me pick out any bike I wanted. And then, additionally, I got to pick out all these cute little accessories to go with it.

There a just a few inanimate objects in my life that I give names to. Up until now, it's just been my 3 guitars- Greta, Carlita, and Scarlett. I decided my bike was also worthy of a great name. And the only fitting name that came to mind was Pinky Tuscadero. Pinky for short.

I wrote a blog post (on my other blog you can access thru my website- the one that just says "blog") about the way I love my bike. I've posted it's pictures up on Facebook. I've talked endlessly about it to anyone who cares to listen. And I ride it around every day. And now...a song!

Pinky Tuscadero

The day that I turned 40, my brother took me to his shop
and told me I could pick a bike out- anyone I want!
I had 100 choices but I barely had to think
I knew that I had found her when I saw all that pink..

Pinky Tuscadero- more bitchin' than a camero
Pinky Tuscadero- with all the femininity of Mia Farrow

Then we pimped out both the tires, and we customized the chain
Got all the bells and whistles, so my bike could sing in the rain
Oh, and I got a little basket to carry all my junk
So when I do a some shopping, I can use it as my trunk


Well she came from Fleetwood's Kit Kat, the coolest bike shop ever seen
Pinky's all I ever wanted, the little cruiser of my dreams


Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Don't Steal My Story

I just finished reading The Art of Racing in the Rain. I highly, highly recommend this book. The narrator of the story is a dog named Enzo. (It may sound weird that the narrator is a dog, but trust me, once you start reading it, it isn't!) He's a very wise old soul. He believes that in his next life he'll be a man. And based on things he's witnessed over the years, there are some human habits he sort of vows not to have once he is a man. One of them is, he won't interrupt someone when they're telling a story. He hears this happening in human to human conversations all the times. And he knows how it gets the topic so off course that sometimes, the original speaker never even gets to finish their story!

Well, I'm both a victim and an offender of this bad habit.
Don't Steal My Story

Don't steal my story, don't take what's mine
Don't steal the thunder, and force the sun to shine
Just lend me your ear, let me have my say
I'm holding the wheel, don't grab it away

Don't force me down a different road
Let me call this one my own

You're always waiting, for a place to jump right in
If I lose my direction, we may never get to the end


we all have a story that we want to share...
we've all got a voice for someone to hear...

So don't steal my story, just wait your turn
When you just listen, that's when you really learn


Saturday, July 25, 2009

It's Really Pretty Simple

There's always things we want to do, but we think we don't have enough time.

Well, time is what you make of it. Rather than saying, "I don't have time to ________" (fill in the blank with: learn to play the guitar, learn to make jewelry, cook healthy meals, change the world, etc.) instead you might just go with, "I don't feel like it."

Ultimately, that's the truth of it. We can all find little bits and pieces of time to create some wonderful things that will add something worthwhile to this world!

Here's a little quote I ran across today that I found quite inspiring- Hope it helps you "find" the time to pursue something you've got an interest in!
"Even if you can only carve out 15 minutes a day to evote to your new habit, that's 91 hours over the course of a year."
-from the book "This Year I Will..." by M.J. Ryan

Thursday, July 23, 2009

500 Days of Summer

I loved this movie.
I loved it so much I want to immediately go see it again.
And I want the soundtrack!!

It is not a romantic comedy. Although it is romantic, and it is funny. Trust me. GO SEE IT.

The movie is a non-linear retelling of a love story that ended in heartache. We flip back and forth though the beginning, middle and end of what, at times, seemed like a match made in heaven- and try to figure out where it went wrong.

I love the song, "You Make My Dreams Come True" by Hall and Oates. (Love it so much in fact, I put it in the video montage sound recording of my Mom's memorial service...) The song is not only in the movie, but it's also the best scene in the movie. Loved it. Loved it. Loved it.

I wish more movies like this were made.

Name That Tune

This is the first song I've ever written on my ukelele!

I haven't quite decided on a title for the song- which tends to be the last thing I do. I'm leaning towards "How Beautiful You Are". If you have a better idea, please suggest.

Thank you for listening!
I like those little wrinkles
I love all of your lines
A little gray becomes you,
even more would be just fine

I take a look- at you each day
so I don't notice any change
Until I look- at photographs
and suddenly I'm taken back to how beautiful you are.

I like that I have known you,
I have loved you all this time
I might take you for granted
'Cause you're right here by my side

The years could never rob you
Oh, time is not a thief
It couldn't steal your beauty
Because it runs so deep


Monday, July 20, 2009

My One True Friend (Zoe's Song)

I write a lot of love songs. And here is one written to one of the greatest loves of my life. I really think Zoe is some sort of angel who was sent to me. She is the perfect dog- for me! And whenever I'm asked a question about who I most admire, Zoe always comes to mind. She doesn't have a mean bone in her body. She always seems happy. She lives in the moment. She is really just love, love, love. She's at the top of my list of what I am grateful for in this life.

This is not a serious song, as you will hear. But I do seriously mean the overall sentiment. I am so happy on a day over 13 years ago, when both Zoe and Scout were in a batch of about 9 puppies I had never met before, we were all smart enough to choose each other. I would choose both of them again and again.
My One True Friend (Zoe's Song)

It's not your fault that you stink
or that you go to the toilet when you need a drink
I love you so much and I think
If you were a color, you'd be a light pink

You're always up for a walk
You look and you listen when I need to talk
Without an eye on the clock
You even love the smell of my socks, yeah you do...

Thru thick and thin and back again
I'd chose you as my one true friend

You've never been anything but sweet
You've never acted mad or mean
Or said you were bored with this old routine
Age is only a number and yours is 13


However much you love me
That's how much I love you times 93
I'll keep you safe from all of those fleas
And I'll sing you you as you lie at my feet, yeah I will


The Way I Love My Bike

I love my bike. I love the living you-know-what out of it. I think it is the best bike in the world. In the universe. It was a generous gift given to me by my brother for my 40th birthday. He let me pick out any bike I wanted at his bike shop, and then let me pick out any and all accessories to customize it into my dream bike. And so there it dream bike, realized.

When I ride it around my little part of town, some people shout out something nice and complimentary about my bike. Some people sort of just laugh (and when I say laugh, I mean sneer). And others don't seem to notice my hot little bike at all.

But whether people love it, hate it, or are indifferent to my bike, I love it just the same.

It would be pretty empowering to love myself in just this same way. I tend to want to change the things about myself I fear others don't like. I feel either good, or bad about myself in relation to what others seem to think. But if I loved myself the way I love my bike, I'd love my hot pink wheels and never contemplate changing them back to a standard black tire. I would feel fine that 10+ speed bikes whiz past me, and I'm happily moving much slower with my 1-speed pace. I'd feel great to receive compliments about my voice, my songs, my clothes, my writing, etc- but that wouldn't define whether I am "good" or not.

Some people see my bike, and if they're like me, they think it's super cute. If they're not like me, maybe they just don't see it the way I do. And all of that is ok.

And that is the way I would like to love myself.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Food for Thought

I just finished reading Run For Your Life, by James Patterson & Michael Ledwidge.

I used to read a lot (& I mean a LOT) of true crime books. In fact, I can remember years ago, when my brother and I went to Maui. We kept trading true crime books back and fourth and going to the book store about every other day to buy more. We figured our large, and growing even larger, stack of books would freak out the maids when they made our beds each day, and were somehow amused by that thought. I came to find out that truth is stanger than fiction. Once I had discovered this, I stopped reading the non-fiction crime/suspense books (like James Peterson).

Then finally, and thankfully, I outgrew the phase all together. I realized, not only do I hate the negative nightly news and all it's stories of scary stuff, but I didn't want to feed the words of those true crime books into my brain any more. So I put it all down and walked away.

But for some reason, maybe the summer heat, last week at the library, I picked up the James Patterson book.

It was a quick read. It was sort of like popcorn. The chapters are written in very little pieces. At the end of the chapter I think, "Well, jut one more chapter..." and then the next thing I know, I'm at the bottom of the bowl/the end of the book. Completely unsatisfied. Wondering WHY did I ingest all of that and what good did it do me?

I know I'll eat more popcorn. But I won't read anymore books like Run For Your Life. There's just too many great books out there. Ones that nourish me. Ones that have a lot more of the essential vitamins and minerals my soul needs.

I've just begun reading The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. I'm not racing though the chapters like I did with the above mentioned book . I'm chewing on all the words, really savoring the flavors, and knowing that I am being nourished...

Wednesday, July 15, 2009


Today I wrote my 7th song.

Which made me feel pretty great. Soon, I'll hit the double digits.

So, I was posting my title up on the 50/90 website. And then I made the mistake of comparing my progress to others. You can sort the "members" of the challenge by their progress. Last year, I was very motivated to be on the 1st page through out the entire challenge. I paced myself pretty well, and always stayed right on target so that I'd finish the 50th song be the end of the 90 days.

I sorta assumed this year, I'd be on that top page again because I'm keeping a very similar pace as before. But this year, I'm on the 3rd page! The people on the first page have written anywhere between 11 and 53 songs. 53 songs? In 11 days?

Ironically, the song I wrote today was partly about not wanting to compare myself to others.
I need to go, right now, and sing my new song and embrace those words.

I'll be picking a song from this week to record and put up probably on Friday. So check back soon, please!

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


I should (and usually do) know the difference between the words "benign" and "malignant". After all that Mom went through, I KNOW.

But after a day of worrying about lab results, my vocabulary skills suffered.

Earlier today, I got a rather cryptic voice message from a nurse telling me she was calling to "discuss my biopsy results." I had been outside with my dogs and missed the call by just minutes. I called her right back but had to just leave a message.

Last week I went to my dermatologist for my annual mole/freckle check. Yay me! I wish I had been wearing 70SPF daily my whole life, but as a young girl, rather than embracing my red-headed complexion, I instead tried to tan. And all it really did was create sunburns and lots of freckles. I'm really careful now of course, but the majority of skin damage is evidently done when you're a kid. If only I had known all that, I would've put the Crisco oil down, and picked up some sun screen instead.

All I can do now, is wear my sun screen as a religion (and I do- Praise Banana Boat!) and have a professional check me over and make sure everything looks non-threatening. Last week, one of my larger freckles (which others refer to as moles but the word freckle just sounds so much cuter and less harmful) looked a little suspicious. So my doctor sliced it out, and sent it off to a lab. She told me they'd call me soon and let me know if it was okay or not.

After getting the nurse's voice mail this morning, the longer I thought about it, the more panic-y I became. I even said a little prayer. I feel bad to God that I seem to only talk with him when I need favors. Altho, I also say thanks a lot. But other than that, not so much. But there I was making my bed and having my little talk with the Man upstairs.

Being the impatient patient that I am, I called the office 3 times today. My where abouts changed, so I had to offer up an alternate phone number. But honestly, I just didn't want them to forget about me and put this horrible phone call off one more day. If I had skin cancer, I wanted to start treatment right away.

Finally at the end of the day- around 5pm!- the nurse called me back. And in not that joyful of a tone told me my "mole" was benign. Since she didn't sound all that happy to deliver my news (because she probably had no idea I had been worrying about it all day) I said, "I can't remember is benign good or bad?"
"Good", she said.

I told her she should just say that. If I were her calling me I would instead say, "Great news, Kerri. You're freckle is nothing to worry about. Go have a super fun rest of the day. Oh, and keep wearing your sunscreen- Way to go!" But I would've even been okay with, "Your mole is fine."

I don't consider myself a hypochondriac, but I will admit, my mind gets a little over active at times. Soon after Mom died, I was convinced every little cramp I had was the beginning of ovarian cancer. I've had a few headaches I felt where pretty likely going to turn into aneurysms. Fortunately, most days I feel great and my mind doesn't get too carried away with self-diagnosis.

Benign. Whew. Big relief.
Oh, and immediately upon ending the phone call with the nurse, I was sure to thank God for helping me out today.
And God Bless Banana Boat!

Friday, July 10, 2009

You'll Be Surprised

I've written 4 songs so far- This is the 3rd one I wrote.
I'm totally new to the video stuff and hope to get better, but here's video #1 going out into the blog world...

I won't say what inspired this song, because I think it's important for the lyrics to take on whatever meaning you want them to. However, if you ever would like to know, you can ask and I'd be happy to give you a little "Behind the Music" information.

Ok, here it is:
(***I'm adding the lyrics here because several people have asked me to. Sorry I didn't think of that. Hope this makes it a more enjoyable listening experience!)

You'll Be Surprised

Dig a little deeper, clear a whole new path
Come up with different questions, some you've never asked
Look beyond the madness, there's a method to it all.
Pay out your attention to the big things, and the small

(Pre-Chorus) And don't push anything away
don't put it off for another day
(Chorus) You'll be surprised, by what you will find
By not casting anything aside
Oh you'll be surprised...

I jumped to my conclusions before gathering the facts
I passed unfair judgments and it's too late to take it back
It's only now I see the picture with all it's shades of gray
It's so much more than black and white, but now he's gone away


Thursday, July 9, 2009

Time for Winter Boots? Really?

Yesterday I went shopping for a new pair of flip flops. I realized the pickings were very slim- Especially in my size. Sadly, even though we are in the hottest and most humid part of the summer, the stores are starting to clear out the summer clothing to make way for the fall stuff instead.

I jut got a little Nordstrom catalogue in the mail today. The leather boots, jackets, and long sleeved shirts are just not tempting at all. Nothing that I could even consider putting on my body for at least the next 3 months.

We've all heard that retail is suffering due to the economic slump. People are watching their spending- looking for sales, and probably buying more in the needs category than the wants. Buying leather jackets at full price in early-July isn't going to fly with most people.

I bought the one and only pair of flip flops in my size and my favorite brand that I could find. Although they weren't on sale, weren't my color preference, and they weren't necessarily a need (although I could argue that), I will get my money's worth out of them.

I just want to know, is anyone in Texas buying winter boots right now?

Monday, July 6, 2009


Ok, it's ON.

Today is actually Day 3 of 90. And I've written one song, and just about finished writing my second one. Only 48 1/2 more to go. I haven't had the time (or courage!) to figure out how to best record my song and post it up here or anywhere else yet, but I did want to just say: I've started!

I'd love to fall into a regular schedule of writing each day. Then, maybe that way, once this 90 days is over, it'll be a new habit and I'll continue it. Is there a time if the day or night I seem most creative? I'm not sure, but maybe this little project will help me find out.

I've been thinking I'll spend between 2 and 3 hours on writing each day. And maybe to break it into 2 different segments. I think if I were to sit and think for 3 hours, my head might explode.

Today I sat down for 2 hours. Lots of time, when I'm not conscious of the time, it just flies by, when I'm in songwriting mode. But today I had a clock in front of me, and knew I was giving myself 2 hours before I had to stop. It felt long and exhausting. My mind felt like it's gears were starting to stick. I really should have stood up, walked away, and taken a little breather. I think that would have helped. But I really wanted to get in that complete 2 hours.

But this is part of the whole thing...Figuring out how I work/create best.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Ready, Set,....

Tomorrow begins my challenge of writing 50 songs in just 90 days. Yahoo!
I've tried to store up my creative juices over the last few weeks and haven't really done any songwriting. Whenever I've begun to sit down with my guitar to noodle around I've thought, "No, I better just wait."

And after all this waiting, I feel especially fired up!

I was thinking this morning about what a great hobby songwriting . It's the best form of therapy I know of- and it's free! I've figured out how I really feel about things through songwriting. Very little is necessary to create a song. I happen to have what I think is the best guitar in the entire world, but even if I had some little knocked up cheap guitar, I could still write songs and make music. I don't have any kind of formal training in music or language, but just like everyone else out there, I have a unique way of expressing myself. I can put my own spin on the same sentiments that have been floating around for hundreds of years.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Dreamseller- An Addiction Memoir by Brandon Novak

I just finished reading a book called Dreamseller- a memoir written by skateboarder Brandon Novak about his heroin addiction.

I read a LOT of memoirs about drug addiction. It's oddly one of my favorite topics to read about. And I always watch the show on A&E called Intervention.

The closest I come to having a substance abuse problem is my relationship with Diet Coke. I've tried giving it up numerous times, but I seem to always slip up and get back on it. I start by thinking, "I've been doing so well without Diet Coke. I really deserve to reward myself. I'll have just one"...and the next thing you know I'm back to drinking it almost daily. I've also suffered the withdrawals of not having it- the headache. But it doesn't serve as a deterrent in becoming a regular user again the next time.

But Diet Coke, as far as we know, isn't lethal. It's just a little vice I have. I've never done anything I'm ashamed of because of Diet Coke. I've never lied about it, or hidden the fact that I drink it. I've never stolen anything in order to have money to buy more of it. My life doesn't focus around my use of Diet Coke. So I realize, I have no true understanding of the experiences of a true drug addict.

This memoir, Dreamseller was so honest, it made me almost sick in a few parts. It also didn't have a nice and tidy ending- which I think when it comes to addiction, is so truthful. The book begins, "I am a 25 year old junkie, sleeping in an abandoned garage in one of the worst parts of Baltimore City. My eyes are open." and ends about 250 pages later with, "I am a 29 year old junkie, lying in my girlfriend's bed, in a quiet suburb of Baltimore City. My eyes close." There's certainly more peace at the end of the book and he's in a much better place, but he will always be an addict. And from his own experiences, and those of some of his friends, he knows his addiction could rear it's ugly head at any time.