Battle of the Bands Results AND Monday Bullets (aka The Dirt)

First up, Battle of the Band Results. I've got my theories, but this was the least voted battled I've posted in a while. Don't know if you just didn't care for the contenders, the battle was overlooked in our never-ending quest to Get Things Done, or what... BUT, for a Brief Moment this was a very tight battle between Sir Mix A Lot and Richard Cheese. And then it wasn't. (BTW, the song was Baby Got Back) and I think both versions are hilarious and iconic in their own ways. In the end, Sir Mix A Lot ran away with it. Final tally:

Sir Mix A Lot: 11

Richard Cheese: 7

Anyone else notice that if you reverse them you get 7-11? There was a day when I loved 7-11 (as in the convenience store). Let's all say Big Gulp, because I know you want to. As for me and my vote, I'm sincerely torn in this battle. I think the original by SMA is hilarious. If you haven't seen a group of skinny white chicks karaoke this song, you haven't laughed nearly as hard as I have. Funny, funny stuff. On the other hand, the arrangement by Richard Cheese also seriously tickles my funny bone. I guess I 'll vote with the majority on this one for Sir Mix A Lot (my vote doesn't count for anything anyway), but it was a tough call for me.

In other news...

• Thank you, Bryan, for pointing out in my comments on the last post that if I were a terrible or "wanna be" writer he wouldn't bother CPing for me. Ironically, that little gem infused me with some much needed inspiration to tackle my WiP again.
• However, I think there is something to be said for taking a break from your novel when you're in the very unproductive state of writing and deleting. Maybe that is a good time for thinking. Or reading a book by someone else. Or both.
• I just finished Paper Towns by John Green. I'm not sure I can continue to read his books. I'm consistently awed and amazed by how good he is. I then go a through a period of self loathing, wherein I can never write anything even close to that good. Followed by a period of telling myself that we all write differently and no matter what "I will never be John Green" and "the world doesn't need two John Greens anyway."
• My blogging has just sucked. My blog reading has sucked. I wish I could explain this in a satisfactory way. Alas, I cannot.
• I'm strongly considering going back to camp this summer. It sounds innocuous and not a bit scary, right? Wrong. This is a camp I grew up at. Loved. Haven't been to since 1992. It terrifies me on so many levels that I'm not sure I can even list them all. I wanted to go back about five years ago, but didn't because of my migraines. I'm still very worried that the pace of camp will be too much for me and that my migraines will flare up and I will be DOWN. I also fear that it won't be the same magical place I remember. Heck, I know it's changed. I've been to their website. It's changed. Yet, it's still the same. If that makes any sense at all.
• So, I've been dreaming about camp (literally and figuratively), thinking about camp, and trying to work up a strategy to 1) get through camp, while 2) loving going through camp. I'll keep you posted on this one. If I do go, it will mean three weeks this summer of no cell phone, no computer, no internet, no TV, no nothing. Me. Nature. God. Kids. Fun. That's it. It sounds freakin' wonderful, doesn't it????
• I wanted C-Man and H-Girl to go to camp. For one week. They couldn't live without their cell phones that long. Sigh. I wanted to say, but didn't, that they both say they believe in God and Jesus, but they weren't willing to give up their phones. Yet Jesus gave up his life. However, if it takes guilt to get them there, I'm not willing to do it. Jesus wasn't guilted into dying for us. It was a gift. You can either accept it or not. Simple as that. However, it made me think about the things I've been (and not been) willing to give up in my own life. Which makes it tough to throw any stones at anyone else.
• However, the disappointment remains that they will never have the great life-changing camp experience I had. Not because they couldn't have it, but they didn't want it. 
• Last, but certainly not least, we are about to find out who is right about the man in my mother's life. Yes, I'm talking about the one she's been emailing with for the last six months or so. The one I'm sure is a scammer and she's sure is about to be her next husband. He's FINALLY saying he's leaving Australia (where he's been "trapped" by various and sundry issues that I only have vague notions regarding, because I wanted to stay out of that loop). Yesterday she tell me his flight is booked and he'll be here Wednesday night. This morning, she tells me that he said he went to pick up his boarding pass at the airline and was told that me might have some taxes to pay in order to leave. I was like "That is the biggest pile of bologna (thank you Oscar Meyer, or I'd never remember how to spell that word!) I've ever heard." Mom seemed to see the sense in my statement, but still has faith in the dude. Whatever. I'll eat a paper plate if he shows up. My money is on him needing money (from her) to "leave" the country.
• Alas, as you can see, there is disappointment aplenty to be had here. At our meals we pass the fried chicken and the disappointment. You don't get one without the other.

And that is the all the news that is fit (and unfit) to print.

Raining Down A Hail of Bullets

On my last bullet point post, Biting The Bullet, I started with the wind sock (stuck in the gutter) and ended with the idea that I wanted to be like wind sock when it is flowing free and fulfilling its nature. I linked that old post if you are interested in my idea of metaphor. (Hint: It is a rambling post that SEEMS to go nowhere and then doubles back and actually finds a point.)

Let's try it again.

• The wind sock is once again hopelessly caught in the gutter.
• I would snap a photo, but I already did that once and, seriously, how many photos of a wind sock in a gutter does a person need to see?
• I finished reading the book The Fault In Our Stars, by John Green, a little over a week ago. 
• Yes, there is a movie based on the book at the movies. I have yet to see the movie, but I laughed and then cried through the book. Since I know how it ends, I think I will save it for home viewing. As much I love sobbing at the movies, I will take a pass.
• I don't think this is any sort of spoiler alert, but the teenage characters in the book (and movie) have cancer. The boy, Augustus Waters, is a huge fan of metaphor. His constancy in looking for it in everything around him made me fall in love with him just a bit more than I expected.

• Okay, it is a little creepy saying that I fell in love with Augustus Waters and then SEEING Augustus Waters. He is a teenager. It was a whole lot cooler when he was just a character in a book.
• But, I still love that metaphor clip. It was exactly the way John Green wrote it. So, maybe it is HIM I fell in love with just a little bit. That is slightly less creepy given that he is closer to my age, but married.
• Let's move on...
• So, I read this book about cancer and had a bit of a breakdown. I did mention the crying, right?
• One of my friends from high school has been battling cancer since his 20s. I thought constant, chronic migraines were a bitter pill. Lest you ever forget... there is ALWAYS someone who has it worse than you do.
• So, anyway, he posts these horribly long (and dreadfully sobering) updates on his Facebook page. The cancer is slowly becoming him. As it is in his brain, spine, lymph nodes, legs, and now pelvis. The fact that the guy lived this long is a miracle in itself. The treatment stopped working a while ago and he has decided No More. So, now it is just a waiting game. 
• I told you about my friend from high school whose son died of cancer. Well, I mentioned it. I didn't really go into it. That was last December. I feel surrounded by cancer.
• A friend from college just announced that her teenage daughter has been diagnosed with osteoscarcoma (bone cancer), which is the same cancer Augustus Waters had in The Fault In Our Stars.
• Since I just read that book I know a whole lot more about osteoscarcoma than I did a week ago. 80% of people beat it. That is a great statistic unless you fall in the 20%. I have debated sending my friend an email to NOT read this book or watch this movie.
• Yesterday I just had tissue biopsied to determine if I have cancer. Isn't that exciting? I could be the next person on Facebook to create a page that is devoted to cancer!!!!
• Before you get too excited, the doctor who performed the biopsy took me aside after and said that it was unlikely (though not certain) that I had cancer. He had seen cancerous tissue many times when it was OBVIOUSLY cancer and mine wasn't. 
• So, for right now, I am riding on the good side of the stats. Of course, he was less than thrilled about everyone on my father's side of the family dying of colon cancer. Well, not the young people (as in my age or younger) yet. He made sure that we had a sobering talk on the importance of colonoscopies. I assured him that I am well aware.
• I am well aware.
• I am currently reading George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones. Now, that is a tome. And it is the first of a series. The first book tops 800 pages. 
• I watched the first three seasons of the TV show that follows the book and am glad I did. It makes the book much easier reading.
• Spoiler alert: No one dies of cancer in Game of Thrones. No one lives long enough to die of cancer. They live in a medieval time and are much more likely to be run through with a sword, battle axe, or one of those wicked spiked balls that warriors like to throw around.
• As I read it, I find myself pondering the bigger issues of holding to honor and valor and honesty when lying, corruption, and deceit seem to repeatedly win the day. I think on how things are going down in George R.R. Martin's fictional world and then take a look at how things are going down right here... and it all seems frightfully the same. The surest way to lose the game is to fight it honorably and the surest way to win it is with cunning and deception.
• And that brings me back to the wind sock. You knew we were coming back to the wind sock...
• All the wind sock desires is to blow free and fulfill its Nature. That is its greatest happiness. 
• Yet it remains glued to the gutter. And so it shall be until I walk out there and give it another good yank. 
• Is it our destiny, like that of the wind sock, to constantly return to the gutter and consistently require a good yank from an outside source to set us right again?