Photo by Eddie~S

So Punxsutawney Phil has informed us that its 6 more weeks of winter. Like almost all of my Facebook friends, I can handle more of this kind of winter… mild temps that resemble Spring more than Winter.

I’m no meteorologist, but I think we still have a lot of Winter to go… it’s just going to be late. I could be wrong, but that’s my official non-meteorological opinion.

Groundhog day never ceases to amuse me, though. Even before I ever saw the movie Groundhog Day, I found particular amusement with this “holiday.”

A rodent is going to decide the weather. Uh-huh. Sure.

Of course, as a kid who liked playing outside, I’d root for rain that day, so no shadow would be seen and summer would come quicker. Some particularly long winters, I’d deep down hope this hocus pocus was real. Whatever happened on Feb. 2nd in Pennsylvania would dictate if I’d be outside playing on the swings sooner or later.

Then, I saw the movie Groundhog Day and Feb. 2nd was never the same. It became more about if the day would repeat over and over again, versus if the groundhog saw his shadow. The movie made the day even more amusing than it was before!

Life is so serious, though. I think that’s why days like Groundhog Day are so endearing. What other day can a group of grown men wear top hats and see if a rodent can see his shadow? What other day can we all find this level of simple, lasting entertainment in the hum-drum days of winter? For me, Groundhog Day isn’t about the weather or a movie. It’s about finding a little bit of amusement in ourselves and our history.

Winter will end when it ends. The groundhog is going to go back to bed, pissed off he was awakened in the first place. And we’re all going to go back to the daily rhythm of things that we’ve grown accustomed to once again. But for today? Let’s have a little giggle.

—–

Photo Credit: Eddie~S

When I stumbled upon the Road Widows blog and started contributing, I briefly wondered why CMT doesn’t do a “Real Road Widows of Music City” or something. That could be really cool, I thought. Heck, I’d be happy to contribute to it!

I’ve chewed on this idea a few times. How would that work? I guess you’d probably focus on the wives of the artists for the biggest ratings, but what about us wives of the side guys?  I know some great women that could be featured. It could be pretty cool.

Then, as I lay in bed one night, trying to turn the brain off so I could sleep (husband snoring softly beside me… dammit, I thought, I want to sleep, too!) it hit me. It would probably be one a boring show in comparison to its reality tv peers.

See, us road widows… we aren’t generally an outlandish bunch. Many of us have regular ol’ day jobs. Others of us are your typical stay at home moms (albeit part time single-parents.) We are all more focused on putting food on the table than shopping for designer dresses and shoes. We live a life a lot closer to reality than those typical “reality” TV shows portray. It is within that that it really wouldn’t be exciting. It might pass more as educational. Recipes for one. Budgeting. How to fly solo to events. Building your own support system outside of your marriage. Balancing the craziness of “the life” with “the normal world.”

Oh sure, there would be your cool out-of-the ordinary moments. The occasional awards show. CD release parties. A glimpse at hanging backstage before a concert. (Newsflash: Soundcheck is usually pretty boring, and you do a whole lot of hurry up and waiting. Though my personal favorite drama tends to deal with security guards on a power trip.) You could spice it all up here and there!

But, quite frankly, we’re a pretty normal bunch living pretty normal lives… and quite frankly, I am VERY thankful for that.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I am no where near as bad of an over-thinker as I once was. I don’t live in my head as much as I did even just five years ago. I’m less introverted as I was then (although I think I’d still consider myself more introvert than extrovert… but that’s a post for another day.)

That being said, I often find myself with so many ideas that I am left with no idea what to write. So, I spend hours reading other blogs, looking for inspiration. Hoping something will silence the thoughts in my head and make them focus down into one solid blog post.

That didn’t happen today.

No, my biggest problem today is that the ideas I have for posts are good ideas! I just have to write them very carefully with a solid respect for my audience. I’m not opposed to being “controversial” — but I AM opposed to knowingly offending. Or, worse yet, getting someone, who is just an innocent bystander, in trouble.

So, instead, I vent my feelings and thoughts without censorship in a personal journal. Hoping that “getting it out” will help me take a more neutral approach to the issue at hand. It’s helped me focus my energy and organize my thoughts countless times. I often wonder if other bloggers use this technique as well, or am I just making more work for myself?

No matter what, it didn’t help, either.

I’m still sitting here, stewing over thoughts I don’t dare yet let see the light of day until I can correctly organize them and present them in the proper fashion. Perhaps I am still over thinking them. I am sure of it, in fact. However, if I were to write without thought and care, I’d be less likely to be able to sleep peacefully than I am if I continue stewing over things!

So here I am writing a blog post to tell you I don’t have a blog post today… and why.

Here’s hoping something strikes my fancy soon, or I am able to finally organize the train-wreck of thoughts going on in my mind. I’ll take either one at this point!

Lemming: a member of a large group of people who blindly follow one another on a course of action that will lead to destruction for all of them

It started when I had to go to the bank. As I approached an intersection, I noticed the turn-lane was unusually full. I pulled in anyway — I had to make a left up ahead — but I left about half a car-length between me and the car in front of me.

The light turned green. I noticed two cars make left turns and the rest of us… sat there. It didn’t take me long to figure out that the third car had stalled or something. I waited to see if anyone went around… nothing. Our time with green was running short and still… we all just SAT there. With a glance in my mirror, I pulled out, passed about nine cars, and suddenly became the first in line for the next left arrow.

Now, in some ways you could say that was a very “jerk” thing to do. I saw it as taking initiative. For, you see, after I did that, several other cars followed suit. I refused to just stare at the car in front of me, waiting to do what they did. If I had, I’d have potentially been there at least three more light cycles!

I thought about it later and realized that I want to live my life more like how I drove today. Less “wait and see what others do” and more “taking initiative and pulling ahead of the rest.”

In the evening, I flew out of Nashville International Airport. My gate was at the verrrry end of one concourse. (Always is, right?) Gate C21, squished in with gates C20, C22, C23 and C24. Just as I sat down, it came across that they were changing my gate… to C20. I looked around and realized moving meant going maybe 10 – 20 yards. Nonetheless, about 40 people get up and move. Literally maybe three rows.

I blinked.

I snorted.

I shook my head.

I stayed right were I was, as the people around me shifted… and I suddenly found myself still sitting with flight-mates… just different ones.

Again I sighed to myself. All these people moved because it was implied they might want to do so. Not because they took any time to consider if they actually had to. (Granted there were a few people who really did need to move, because they were seated on the edge of C21 and C22, making it a fairly long distance. But on a whole, over half did not need to move. At all.)

I don’t know. I guess I get frustrated when I run into people not doing anything other than what everyone else is doing. Who aren’t thinking outside the pack and making their own path… or who aren’t standing firm and refusing to be swayed.

I want to be an individual. I want to make my own path. I want to only follow the crowd when it truly is what needs to happen… not just because its easy or implied to be “right.”

Anyone with me??

;-p

I need food. I want a new shirt. That sort of thing.

Well, today, I ran some errands, and then ended up at the store for a few groceries. As I walked into the store I thought to myself, “I haven’t bought myself something as a ‘treat’ in a long time. I think I’ll treat myself.”

But you know what? I couldn’t do it. Everything I picked up, I found myself going, “But I don’t NEED it.” and I’d put it back. I did this countless times  until I finally decided to go home. I did get myself a bottle of wine and a 98 cent bottle of nail polish. WOO. Those two items were the extent of my “want” purchases.

And really, don’t all my ladies agree… the bottle of wine is just right there at the edge of that “need” category.

Right?

And its warming up, and cute toes are a need if I’m to wear flip flops.

Right?

Oh in all seriousness, I know they’re technically wants, but when my “want” purchases only total about $5, I feel like I’ve truly been successful in remembering that the “needs” always trump the “wants.” I walked out of the store patting myself on the back for my self-restraint. Go me!

Then I stopped for an iced coffee on my way home. Because, after all, I needed it.

The other day I was struck by how many things are also things I “hate.” Things like:

I love/hate technology. Technology has brought about the ability to do things with ease. You can do more in five minutes today than our ancestors could do in a day. Technology and the internet has brought me friendships I’d have never had otherwise. It, ultimately, led to my meeting my husband. It’s given me knowledge and views of the world that would never have happened otherwise.

And yet, within that… technology has at times lead to families no longer sitting down at the dinner table together every night (instead opting to eat at the computer or TV). I spend more time trying to make my laptop work than I spend doing my job some days. I have found myself so reliant on my computer to be able to pay bills (again, something I LOVE being able to do!) or keep up with what I have to do each day that if I lose electricity or internet for more than a day or two… I’m up a creek!!

I love MDA/American Cancer Society/American Heart Association, etc. I hate that they have to exist. I am forever grateful for the things MDA has done for my nephew. I look at all the good all these organizations do to raise money to find a cure for all kinds of diseases, etc. and I am SO thankful. I love the people to spend their lives trying to help others.

I hate they have to exist at all. It’s not my place to ask why or question God’s plan. But I think its natural to look at those stricken by muscular dystrophy, cancer, heart disease, etc. and go, “WHY!?!”  I see someone struggle, and it hurts my heart. It makes me angry to see someone have to fight so hard to live.

I love music. I hate the music industry. I love music. Love. Music. I love that my husband loves music and is able to make a living making music on the road. I love all my musician friends. All the songwriters. The melodies that define our lives. Country. Rock. Jazz. Pop. Classical. I love it ALL.

I hate the “industry” side of music. The side that says all that matters is the dollar. The side that crushes dreams of the truly talented to promote those based on looks or age. The side that will look at someone and say, “You’re too old.” or “You just aren’t hip enough.” even if that person is the one who has a talent that no one can match. It makes so sense. It’s left me cynical.

I love to cook. I hate doing dishes. Thankfully, hubby doesn’t mind doing dishes. And then there’s that magical thing called a dishwasher. So. There’s that at least.

I love being much more money-savvy. I hate what I’ve had to go through to get there. I have a much greater respect for money these days, and I am better at budgeting than I’ve ever been in life. I am more grateful for what I have than ever before. I see hidden costs and expectations that I didn’t see before. I know the difference between want and need. I hate the struggles we had to go through recently. When I’ve told people I am broke, I am not just saying that. I can prove it. Legally. I hate that. But I love the reality check it gave me, making it not so bad.

I love snow. I hate how it shuts things down.

I love football. I hate obnoxious fans.

I love my cell phone. I hate making phone calls.

I love alone time. I hate being lonely.

I love to travel. I hate packing.

It’s all checks and balances I suppose. We take the good with the bad, ideally focusing on the good over the bad. I know I look at the things I love as things I love, far stronger than the things I hate.

What is on your love/hate list?

I made other discoveries the last few days. For example, a dusty pair of black dress shoes that I realized I’ve worn maybe once in the last 8 years. They did NOT go in the Goodwill pile because I realized that every woman needs one part of butt-ugly dress shoes for stuffy interviews and the occasional funeral. I have NO plans to wear those shoes any time soon, but I figured I better keep them.

I also discovered that friends who are willing to help you move are priceless, and ones you trust with your underwear drawer are even MORE priceless. Forget worrying about your jewelry, guys who see your butterfly designed underwear and DON’T crack a joke are pretty darn cool in my book.

I discovered we found ourselves a new home that fits us. It reminds me of the one I grew up in, and its just enough country to bring out my inner cowgirl. I might just have to get myself a pair of Wrangler jeans sometime this year!

Finally, I discovered once again what a great team my husband and I make. I swear moving has to be in the top 10 causes of divorce! It’s so ridiculously stressful. We have both been on edge here and there. At times I have been so overwhelmed that I just wanted to sit in the middle of piles of boxes and bawl!! But not once have we failed to lean on each other on those stress-filled times, often ending up high-fiving instead of bickering. We rock harder than ever. And that’s pretty darn cool of a discovery.

Yes, you read that right. 4 am. This is not an unusual hour for me. It’s about bed time, I suppose, and I write this from my bed. Quality time with my blog tonight, I guess you could say.

I’m a night owl. I am sure many people think this fact is due to my having married a musician who is, by profession, a night owl himself. However, I think a big part of why my husband and I ever hit it off is the simple fact that I’ve pretty much always been a night owl.

I remember back in Elementary school, I was baffled about how none of my classmates knew that at 10:30 pm, after the news, M*A*S*H came on for half an hour. Bed time was always after that show, of course, but it was perfectly normal for me to stay up to watch the show!

My classmates were all in bed by, I assumed, 8 or 9 pm. Me? I’d be up until 11 pm, mostly because there was no point to my going to bed any earlier. I wasn’t going to sleep anyway!

In high school, I was introduced to After MidNite with Blair Garner while I did homework. IF I was done with my homework, I’d still lay in bed awake until all hours listening to the radio host’s antics. If there was an artist I was really interested in being interviewed, I’d be awake until 3 am easily… waiting to hear the interview.

Now, all this being said, I’ve never been a morning person. I can remember in Elementary school, I’d get up and have cereal for breakfast. I’d build myself a fort out of cereal boxes around my bowl in an attempt to keep the light out. I already didn’t think the day should even consider starting before 10 am. At the earliest.

Somewhere along the way, I learned how to live on about 4 hours of sleep. I did that through most of college. Go to bed around 3 am. Get up by 6 or 7 am. Drive to 8 am classes. I kept this schedule up into my job at a newspaper… staying up late, though, to talk to a guy instead of to do homework.

I married that guy.

I moved to Nashville.

My night owl-ness got worse.

You can ask most of my friends here in Nashville. This fact is not unusual. It’s almost a, “Welcome to Nashville,” phenomenon.

However, its not when we go out, or if I pick up a night working downtown at the bar, that my being a night owl takes a ridiculous turn. While I’ve driven home from downtown while the sun rises, its actually when my husband goes on the road that I stay up super late. You see, sunrise offers me some sort of strange security blanket. Its like the first rays of light bring with them this sense of safety. Like I can relax and go into that vulnerable sleep-state.

I sleep as the sunrises. I wake as most go to lunch. Some days, I wake as the school bus drops off neighborhood kids. I have coffee and cereal, as they have candy bars and cokes. This is normal for me.

I try hard to adjust my schedule from time to time. I miss daylight, and I force myself up by 10 or 11 am. However, I often still stay up late after that… and I find myself sleeping even later than normal the next day to compensate! Its at times like that, that I realize that sometimes its not worth fighting the body’s natural clock. I’ll fight it when we have kids. For now, I’ll just stay a night owl.

It is what it is. And what it is now… bedtime.

Now, before I continue with my story, two things I want to note:

1) No, I don’t “go on the road with the band.” I get that question a lot, and the short and simple answer is, “No.” Now, I know there ARE some acts that do take musician’s wives on the road with them, atleast here and there. However, I’ve not really done it myself.

I’ve hitched a ride on the bus twice. Once when I needed to go to Texas and my husband had a show close to my destination. So instead of flying, the artist he was with at the time allowed me to catch a ride with them down. Then another time I caught a ride to Nashville from Texas. I did get to go to Hawaii for a week with my husband on a gig,too. But past that, if I am at a show, its because I’ve taken myself there, and I’m taking myself back home.

2) This is the second time I’ve done a “two show weekend” to see my husband. Only the last time was about six years ago, and we weren’t even flirting with dating. Ironically, the travel time between those two shows was almost twice the time between the shows this last weekend.

So all that said, back to my story. I went to the show in Katy, and it was the first time I’d seen my husband in a month. I was beyond excited, and I made sure to enjoy every minute of the weekend.

A bonus of the trip is the fact that I genuinely really just love the group my husband is with right now. So I was also excited to get to hang out with these guys that I consider friends myself, and the really cool thing? They were SO aware and accommodating of the fact that my husband and I hadn’t seen each other in so long. A fact that did not go unnoticed and unappreciated.

At the show that first night, I was standing side stage, and when the band was introduced, I was introduced right along with my husband! It’s happened about three times now, and its not something I ever expect to have happen. In fact the first time, I turned bright red (we had JUST gotten engaged that time) and almost ran out of the showroom! I didn’t know how to react! This time, when I was told to, “Wave to the crowd!” I did with a giggle and… what can I say?? It was REALLY COOL!! REALLY cool. I am pretty sure I was beaming. LOL! How can you NOT be blown away by that and get, well, a thrill?

After the show, some fans went and got all the band members to sign a t-shirt… and they asked ME to sign it. “We’ll make you famous too!” they said.

I declined at first, but at their insistence, I signed below my husband’s signature. Bizarre much? Yeah. Definitely. And absolutely something I’m amused about, but let’s face it. I’m certainly not going to let it go to my head, and at the end of the day the only person I care to get recognition from is my husband. I’m his biggest fan, and I have this wonderful fulfillment knowing he’s mine.

THAT is all that matters.

Inscription on Albritton Clock Tower on the Texas A&M Campus

First, I went out to the cemetery where all my grandparents are buried, and its at the church where my husband and I got married. This location deserves a blog post all by itself, but suffice to say that you can’t get much deeper into my roots than this location!

Then, I visited Texas A&M University. I took some time to walk around a little bit of the campus and take pictures. I took in memories of days now-fairly-long past, and I observed the current student population a little. I am forever amazed by how little changes in light of how much things have changed.

I ran into the same family a couple times as I strolled around. It was a young man with his parents and a couple siblings. He was giving his family a tour of campus, and if I were guessing I’d have said he had to be a Freshman. Perhaps even a Senior checking out the campus he’d be attending in the fall.

I could only hear snippets of their conversations, and really it was none of my business. However, the young mans demeanor amused me. His body language screamed out that he would rather be doing anything other than what he was doing in that moment. Telling his family about traditions, etc. seemed to be almost an annoyance. It was as if they should know these things already.

I shook my head, and deep down I wanted to pull him aside. I wanted to convey to him that I’m over 5 years out of college now, and there are times I wish I’d taken more time to appreciate my campus. I was blessed with parents who took (and continue to take) an active roll in my life. He needs to be thankful to have his family there with him. Many would give anything to have that time. And 10 years from today, he’ll wish he had this time back. I could promise him that.

At another point in my tour, I couldn’t help but overhear another young man fretting over the coming summer. Should he stay in College Station, or should he go home to Dallas?

He was going through the pros and cons of both to his friend, and I have to admit, I was impressed at how he was thinking it through. But I felt the urge to go to him and tell him that neither choice was wrong. He is blessed to be in a time in his life that everything is a chance to grow and experience life. In a weird way, being a student gives him a safety net that “the real world” will not offer in the next few years. Enjoy having that problem. Revel in having the options ahead of you, and know that neither one is wrong. Both will offer lessons in life. Both will find you wiser come Fall Semester.

Its a funny thing about taking some time to visit your roots. You find yourself studying the lessons you’ve learned along the way. You realize you wish someone would have told you these lessons ahead of time. And yet within that, you find its learning these lessons on your own that have made them stick.

So even as I wanted to “offer words of advice” it was best I kept my musings to myself. Those lessons were for me to learn my own way, and for these current students to learn their own way as well. And some day, they may take their own stroll on campus and have the urge to share their own advice, but they, too, won’t.