What a place, huh?

Last night, I zig-zagged the downtown streets on foot, taking in the sights and sounds of Stumptown.  Seattle may be my first love – but I have a warm, fuzzy fondness for her hippie kid sister.

Eventually, I wandered into Powell’s Books (how could I not?), and spent way, way too much time browsing the endless aisles.  When I’m in a bookstore, I feel a mixture of buoyant possibility (all of these stories are just waiting to be read), and frantic panic (but there’s not enough tiiiiime!).  If I could, I would hold each story in my hands like a cloud, and wring it out like the rain.

When I returned to the hotel from my walk, the doorman greeted me, “Welcome back, Ms. Parsons.”  And when the elevator doors slid shut, enclosing me in privacy for my ride up to a room with floor-to-ceiling drapes and a king-sized bed, I grinned out loud.

Wow.

Ever since last Monday’s blog, you have returned day after day, expecting to see something new posted.

But NO.  Here a crotch, there a crotch, everywhere a crotch, crotch – day after day after day.

My most sincere apologies for the assault on your eyes for an entire week.  Last Monday night brought some sudden news that took me out of town for the rest of the week – I’m sure that I’ll unpack some of that in the coming days.

In the meantime, spring has DONE SPRUNG here in Denver.  I returned on Saturday to trees in full bloom and 70 degrees of sunshiny weather.  I don’t have to wear a coat anymore, and I am sneezing like the dickens (whatever that means).  I would be tempted to get outside and do some more hiking, but I’m home just long enough to repack my bags and fly to Nashville tomorrow night for two weeks.  I have a half-marathon to run on Saturday, and will spend some time working from the Nashville office.

Let’s talk about books.  After several false starts, I am finally reading “The Poisonwood Bible.”  Any recommendations for summer reading?  You’d better believe I’ll be reading “Beatrice and Virgil” – I can’t wait.

If you haven’t read these, I suggest:
“Plainsong”
“The History of Love”
“Water for Elephants”
“Peace Like a River“

I forgot to mention that I am now outfitted for Colorado.

This is called the Lodge Parka, which is most appropriate for me, since I’m not really a “winter sporter” (not that I’m really a “summer sporter” either).  But a lodge?  That I can do.

Has anyone read “Water for Elephants” by Sara Gruen?  I loved it so much.  It’s about the circus, which reminds me of what I think is my favorite song ever, “Circus Girl” by Gretchen Peters.  I’m not positive that it’s my most favoritest of the entire world of life, but I THINK that it is.

And in the past few weeks, some of my most-loved people have gotten engaged… to each other!

Mark and Erin!

Brook and Cara!

Josh and Meg!

Already having made travel plans for a wedding in Seattle in February and another in Austin in March, my 2010 matrimonial calendar is swiftly filling up.

Well, well.  You people sure love your grilled cheese.

Thanks for all of the suggestions – I can’t wait to try them!

Now… any chance you have ideas for oatmeal?  My requirements: not from a packet, low in sugar, tastes good.  Anyone?

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A quick update on the reading front:

I finally, FINALLY finished “Eclipse.”  It was 620 unremarkable pages, with about 9 good ones toward the end.

Then, I read Don Miller’s “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” in two days.  It was fantastic, and inspiring, and made me want to cry and choose differently and live a good story; incidentally, Abby on “The Biggest Loser” has the same affect on me (who is with me on this??).

Now, I am reading “The Time Traveler’s Wife,” which I received as a gift for my birthday back in August.  This past summer, I saw previews for the movie and my heart stopped in my chest – boom: arrested.  But I did not see the movie because I wanted to read the book first.  I always like to read the book first – it stretches my mind more, and gives me the freedom to create the images of scenes in my own imagination.  So, currently, I am having my heart stopped by sentences instead of visuals – although I fully intend on seeing the movie later.

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Southwest is having a mega-sale on fares right now.  Too bad that none of the dates are when I need tickets – because I could stand to get some good deals.  Something is not right when I live in Nashville working all week long just to spend every penny on tickets away.

Controversial foods that I happen to love:
Olives
Mushrooms
Beets

Controversial foods that I happen to hate:
Tuna
Pickles
Cauliflower

Cauliflower is the worst. It makes me think of cauliflower ear.

I have a serious addiction to chewing gum, but I ran out about 8 days ago, and have yet to buy a new pack. Every morning after my two cups of coffee, I reach for a piece of minty freshness, and realize that my purse is empty. I spend the rest of the day going through withdrawal. Why I don’t just go buy a new pack of gum is beyond me – maybe I’m trying to prove my ruggedness of spirit.

Speaking of spirit, last night, I mentioned my “melancholy spirit” to Zach, the friend from Seattle who now lives on the JAM house floor (JAMZ?). He told me to not to call it that – because there is a difference between “spirit” and “temperament,” and that my spirit is actually quite fiery. I think that’s true – and it was nice to hear from an outside source.

Also last night, I sang background vocals for one of PZC’s grad school projects – he set up a makeshift isolation booth in his closet, and I sang from there while he and Zach sat silently in chairs in the middle of the bedroom. Occasionally, one of Paul’s roommates would poke their head into the room and find us thusly. That thought is making me laugh today.

I go to Boston tomorrow. If Seattle is my true love, then Boston is my crush. Seattle is to Edward as Boston is to Jacob – although, no, I still have not finished “Eclipse,” so I don’t know how it’s all going to end, and who knows – maybe Bella will wind up with a werewolf after all. At this rate, I may never know. I don’t fully believe that she has “just friends” feelings for Jacob, no matter how many times her annoying narrative voice insists upon it. I kind of want to take the book with me on the plane, but what if I still don’t read it? It’s a huge, heavy, embarrassing novel to be toting around and flashing to strangers if I’m not actually going to read it.

But I want to know how it all ends.

Don’t tell me, though.

Speaking of entertainment… not that we were, but let’s do…*

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I cannot get enough “Friday Night Lights.”

I have never so badly wanted to be a) a Texan, b) a football fan, or c) named Tami Taylor… sadly, none of which I will ever be.

This show is so good.

I was going to write more about it, but that’s honestly all I can say.  This show is so good.  I am still on season 1 – but I watch it before I go to bed, I watch it when I am getting ready for work, and am already planning the upcoming weekend around watching at least 12 episodes.

Welcome to my glamorous life.

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One of my favorite singer/songwriters, Gretchen Peters, just released a greatest hits CD.  Not available on iTunes, I ordered it off her website – and I am so glad that I did.  A double disc set, the packaging is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and last weekend, I sat in a comfy chair for over an hour, listening track by track, and reading through the liner notes.

I mean, when was the last time you did that??  It is joy-inducing, I swear to you.

I’m also listening to Mindy Smith’s “Stupid Love” on repeat.  No one has ever made heartbreak sound so good.

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Books sitting in a stack beside my bed but haven’t been reading because I’m too busy watching “Friday Night Lights”:
“The Time Traveler’s Wife” – Audrey Niffenegger
“Acedia and Me” – Kathleen Norris
“Eclipse” – Stephenie Meyer
“On Beauty” – Zadie Smith

The only book that I’m actually devoting any time to is “Oxymoronica” by Mardy Grothe.  Okay, fine – so this is just basically a long list of oxymorons and paradoxes.  One liners.  It is fantastic.  I read it every night and laugh.  I have another book by Mardy Grothe called “I Never Metaphor I Didn’t Like.”  Come on – THAT IS AWESOME.

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*my favorite phrase for changing the subject.  It works every time.

Confession: I haven’t written a song since November.

GAH.  I don’t want anyone to know that!  I am such a fraud.

I feel like a snail – one that has been left out in the brutal sunshine, shriveled up inside its flimsy shell.  I feel no inspiration.  I have no ideas.

Oh, sure.  One might argue that I’ve had a few other things going on in recent months, taking a lot of my time and energy.  But still.  When I’m not writing – not outputting in some way – something important inside of me feels dead.

All I feel is tired.  Craving time alone, or maybe just an old dog, or a little toddler to snuggle.  I don’t want to have to explain myself to anyone.  I don’t want to have to find words to voice anything – because how can I possibly express what I’m feeling?

Huh.  This is an inconvenient stance for a so-called songwriter to take.

But I’ve been here before.  Remember?  And so I’m taking the same approach as last time, and giving myself the grace of filling up my mind with other stories, other songs, other ideas.  It worked last time – I wound up writing some new songs that I’m quite fond of, a few of which you HAVEN’T EVEN HEARD YET.

(Annie Parsons’ EP, coming soon someday to a website near you.)

So I need your help again.  What should I fill my mind with?  It can be a song, a book, an essay, a website, an article, a movie… what do you feel inspired by, or just plain enjoy?

I just finished season 1 of “Heroes,” and in spite of a ridiculous plotline and an often painful script, that was some good entertainment.  Destiny!  Purpose!  Exploding humans!  I’ve been listening to some great songs – Julie Miller’s “Give Me an Ocean,” and Kasey Chambers’ “Nothing At All,” and Vienna Teng’s “City Hall.”  And it is difficult to make me much happier than to turn on “This American Life” or “The Moth.”

On the other end of the spectrum, I’ve been reading “The Catcher in the Rye” for TWO WHOLE MONTHS, and have recently decided not to finish it – because it is depressing as hell and let’s be honest: if I haven’t finished it by now, then I really don’t care at all about Holden Caulfield (case in point – I had to Google the book just now to remember his name).

Let’s all kick-start our hearts, shall we?  What do you love?

I’ve always been a super-fan of something. When I find something that I love, I tend to jump on the bandwagon and become infatuated. It happened with “Full House.” It happened with Pogs and snap bracelets. It happened with Elijah Wood (have you seen “The War”?). It happened with “Harry Potter” and “Lord of the Rings” and “Lost.” But before any of these things, I was obsessed – OBSESSED – with “The Baby-Sitters Club” books.

(Note: if you have no context for or history with these books, then just stop reading now. This is headed toward pre-pubescent girl territory. You have been warned.)

There was a new book every month. EVERY MONTH! None of this “waiting for years” crap like J.K. Rowling pulls – Ann M. Martin cranked out a paperback novel every 30 days. I would pick up my copy at a local bookstore, and devour it within a few hours. And then, I would write letters to my friend Sheryl in California about how much I loved the BSC*.

(*Yes, I abbreviated. I was that down with these books. Granted, I was also known to sign off by saying, “See you on the pilf” – which was “flip” backwards – so I couldn’t have been THAT cool.)

Each book was narrated by a different member of the club – Kristy, Mary Anne, Dawn, Stacey, Claudia, Mallory, or Jessi – and there were 131 books in the series. Occasionally, there would be a “Super Special” edition, which were typically longer and featured narration that traded off chapter-to-chapter.

Wikipedia has some fantastic one-line summaries of each book, such as:
- Dawn and the Impossible Three – Dawn sits for the wild charges of a recent divorcee.
- Mary Anne’s Bad-Luck Mystery – Mary Anne gets mysterious letters saying she will have bad luck.
- Stacey’s Ex-Best Friend – Stacey’s best friend Laine believes baby-sitting is for babies, which causes a rift between the two friends.
- Get Well Soon, Mallory – Mallory has not been feeling well and finds out she has mononucleosis.
- Kristy and the Copycat – Kristy’s stepsister Karen continually copies her.

Isn’t it obvious how absolutely riveting these stories were? And all these things happened when they were 11-13 years old!

The characters were diverse, and pigeonholed in their roles. Kristy was the bossy, tomboy leader. Mary Anne was her quiet and studious best friend – and the only one with a steady boyfriend (Logan Bruno, so dreeeeeamy). Dawn was Mary Anne’s other best friend – a health-nut from California who ate tofu and had long, gleaming blond hair. Claudia was Japanese-American, dyslexic, and wolfed down junk food (don’t worry – she was always skinny). Stacey was Claudia’s best friend – a native New Yorker, very “urban-chic,” and had diabetes. Mallory and Jessi, the “junior members,” were only 11-years old, and… well, let’s be honest, no one really cared about them.

I dreamed about being as cool as these girls. It’s amazing how a 9-year old girl can idolize fictional characters; in my mind, they were very real. I paid $15/year to be a member of “The Baby-Sitters Club Fan Club,” getting me a quarterly newsletter and free junk – like BSC buttons and postcards. I had The Baby-Sitters Club wall calendar. I owned every paperback available.

But eventually, the magic faded. I BECAME a baby-sitter – and not just any baby-sitter: Annie the Nanny. I didn’t need to live vicariously through these make-believe girls. When I was in high school, we sold all of these books at a yard sale – chunks of my childhood pawned off for a quarter a piece.

Thank goodness I can go listen to the theme song any time I want.

[Attention: if you have not finished the Harry Potter series, don’t worry. There are NO PLOT SPOILERS in this blog. Read on, my readers. Read on.]

I just finished “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows,” which, if you’ve been living under a rock, is the seventh and final book of the Harry Potter series. The book came out in July, and because of life circumstances, I didn’t have the chance to read it until now. Somehow, I miraculously (or… magically…) made it until now without having the ending spoiled, but I began to realize that I was pushing my luck.

It became a race against time – I didn’t tell anyone what I was reading for fear that they might give away the ending. I snuck onto the plane to Richland on Tuesday, and as covertly as I could, slid the HUGE, HULKING volume from my bag, trying to block the title from everyone around me to avoid a plot-spoiling comment.

I have spent the past few nights lying awake in bed for hours and hours, turning pages and savoring each image. Each time that a chapter would come to a close, I would think, “Just one more.” This continued until my eyes saw spots and drooped unwittingly. And then, when I would wake up in the morning, before even brushing my teeth, I would simply roll over and open the book again.

And yes, I made it to the end of the book having maintained the surprise.

The ending of a series has always felt like a death to me. When I finished “Lord of the Rings,” I sat quietly in my little armchair for what felt like an eternity, just staring at the blank page at the end. A good story brings characters to life, and they become close companions. A poignant tale can delineate my thoughts, and punctuate my emotions. I am not ready to give up Harry and Hermione and Ron and the rest, just like I was not ready to give up Peter, Susan, Edmond, and Lucy.

I feel sad. When a family member dies, we have the promise of seeing them someday in heaven. Maybe it’s silly, but I wish I could see the Hogwarts crowd in heaven, too.

What better way to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon than to wander aimlessly through a Barnes & Noble? When I walk into a bookstore, my heart and my spirit soar to lofty heights: Words! In books! About anything! Organized by category! And usually there’s a peanut butter cookie somewhere nearby, too.

Today, as I perused through the stacks and volumes of various titles, I came across some winners. A quick sampling of my favorites:

An amazing collection of poignant patterns, including the ever-popular “Bite me,” appropriate as a kiss-off to the ex-boyfriend, or a throw-pillow for newlyweds.

The perfect coffee table book for all the NRA members out there.

It never ceases to amaze me how huge the Romance section is. And Lindsay Armstrong seems to be particularly gifted – I can totally see how this book would appeal to women nationwide. It’s just so relevant.

That’s right, ladies and gentlemen: Winnie from The Wonder Years is now an author. My favorite thing about this book involves the captions on the front: “How to survive middle school math,” “Fractions, decimals, percents, and more,” and “Do you still have a crush on him?”

I cannot look at this without thinking of this.

When it was all said and done, I left the store with one small purchase: The Between Boyfriends Book: A Collection of Cautiously Hopeful Essays. Laugh if you will, but I plan to spend the evening devouring it.