Musician’s Widow

If you ever hear a musician say they are charting songs, it means they are learning the songs to perform. (That’s a general definition at least.) After they chart them, they’ll “woodshed” to commit them to memory.

When either or both of these happened in our old house, it meant my husband would be closing himself up in the upstairs bonus room for hours on end. I’d sometimes have to convince him he needed to break to eat!

In our house now, there’s no bonus room. So, it means he sets up where he can to practice. Normally he uses his in-ears system (think expensive ear buds) and all I hear is the thump-thump-thumpthumpthump of his fingers on the keys.

Last night, though, he didn’t have his in-ears with him, so he was practicing and I could hear everything.

It’s definitely interesting to see and hear how he goes about learning the songs. But after a couple of hours of hearing bits and pieces of the same song over and over and over, I finally went, “I’m seriously growing to hate this song!”

Note to self: Never ask hubby to learn a song I really like lest I grow to hate it!

In almost cruel irony, the gig he was learning songs for last night got canceled due to the “ice storm warning” we have been under all day. He’ll still need to know the songs for a later date, so its not lost time! But it might be awhile before I like the songs he’s been learning again.

Yesterday, a friend posted this on Facebook (Yes I totally swiped it and posting it here):

My first three words I found were: Intelligence, Time and Fun.

What?

I sat and mulled it over. What did that MEAN!? (And no, I don’t believe this game to be true. Just like I don’t REALLY believe eating black eyed peas and collard greens on January 1st will bring me good luck… but I do it anyway.)

I am an optimist! I AM! Honest! And yet my brain went, “Well, intelligence tends to come from experience and I learn most from my mistakes. Time… I end up with time because I don’t have any work. And fun… we get to go on vacation?”

How much more doom and gloom can you get!? Failure to be able to gain intelligence? Loss of work to have time?

I posed it to my husband. What did those three words mean?

He said, “We will use intelligence to make wise decisions. We will have time to enjoy together. And we’ll go on vacation.”

At least we both agreed we need a vacation.

I told him I liked his way better, and then told him what I came up with. We laughed at the difference, considering how I am usually the cheerleader for us. I told him I didn’t feel pessimistic! But, I guess between fiscal cliffs and the fact that 2012 WAS good to us… I’m braced to have to work harder in 2013. Even though, really, I feel like it’s just going to keep getting better, as we navigate life and make changes and advances in our goals and dreams.

And definitely — DEFINITELY — go on vacation.

Guy at bar: Who’s cup is that?

Me: Mine.

Guy: You like them or something?

Me: Graduate.

Guy (slinking back): Oh. Well. Uh. Congrats on your win.

Me: Thank you.

*smirk*

It’s April 17th. Do you know where your taxes are? Did you already file? Are they on extension? Are you just going to pretend they don’t exist and not file for another year or two or ten?

Last week, I posted on Twitter several little “tax rants” that friends said made them laugh. So to mark the end of tax season, I thought I’d compile those rants along with things that you have to laugh about… lest you go a little crazy.

• Believe it or not, taking your financial documents OUT of their envelopes would save us about 2 hrs a day of BS work. At the very least, OPEN the envelopes!
• I should start putting a dollar in a jar every time someone goes, “Bet ya’ll are busy right now!” 
• (Yesterday)  I like to work on a deadline, but c’mon people. You’ve had 3 mo. to get your tax stuff in here. NO! We will NOT file it TODAY. Get in line behind all these people I’m making sure have extensions filed.
• Don’t ask if you got the Earned Income Tax Credit when you didn’t have any, you know, earned income.
• I’m baffled by those who file on the last day. It’s like shopping on Christmas Eve and wondering why all the Ferbies are sold out!
• Yes, we do take a lunch hour!
• At least every other day you hear, “Where’s the Crown bottle!?” and my parents don’t even drink!
• “So… are you still married?” (Yes, someone asked me this since I was here in Texas working instead of in Nashville.)
• My dad is a stickler for making sure the dependents a person claims are legitimately their dependents. You won’t believe how many people want to know how many dependents they need to get a “good” refund. What I want to know is where do they get these dependents. Do they grow on trees somewhere?
• “Can I write off my daughter’s wedding?”
• No, ma’am. We don’t give you your refund. The government does. Nice try, though!

I have never watched any of the “Real Housewives of…” shows. Never cared to… too far out of reality for me. I’ve never watched any show that follows people around and documents their “real life.” (Okay, fine, maybe I have watched a few episodes of Gene Simmons Family Jewels. And I might have endured one or two episodes of Newlyweds — remember that one?)

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.

My husband and I have a new kitten. I’ve mentioned him before in here. Like a child, he can get into things and be a hand full at times. As such, I end up locking him and our older cat out of the bedroom sometimes just to get some sleep.

This was the case this morning. I wanted an extra hour of sleep, and he wanted to play. So I booted the cats from the bedroom and closed the door.

I got up later, blurry eyed, and came out of the bedroom to find the older cat watching me from my desk chair. I pet him, and then I shoo’d him off the chair so I could sit down and check my email. I noticed my dark blue hoodie was still piled on the seat. The cats love to sleep on blankets, clothes, whatever, so I wasn’t surprised he’d been curled up on the chair.

I plopped down on the chair and… it moved. I don’t mean it rolled. The whole seat moved under me.

I HAD SAT ON THE OTHER CAT!

I never saw him sleeping on the hoodie. He blended in with it, especially with my only being half-awake. Why he didn’t scurry off with the other cat is beyond me. But boy did he squirm! He got out from under me and BOLTED.

I felt bad. I worried about having hurt him. In the end, I laughed. For about ten minutes. He got a rude awakening and, really, so did I!

Poor guy hasn’t had a good day since then, as he decided later to pass me in the hallway by going THROUGH my feet (didn’t go well for him) and his brother has been in play mode. So any time he emerges from a nap, he gets playfully tackled. That could be why, when I went to take the photo of him for this post, he got up and turned his back on me.

Oh he’s fine. No injuries except maybe some bruised pride. And I suspect he’ll not be napping in my desk chair again any time soon.