You are the Sunshine of My Life - the song my mom used to sing to me when I was a little girl. To this day, whenever I hear it, I immediately think of her.
I Got You Babe - the song I performed incessantly as a toddler (both parts). I used to make my mother announce, "Ladies and Gentleman, Cher" and then I would run out and start singing. I was addicted to the Sonny and Cher Comedy Hour, and was insanely jealous of Chastity Bono for having such cool parents.
Hopelessly Devoted to You - As I moved from toddlerhood into grade school, Cher was replaced by Olivia Newton John. I sang this song endlessly, and had my first-ever celebrity crush on John Travolta. In the days before home video, I saw Grease over 100 times in the movie theater. No joke. And it was the first album (yes, vinyl) that I bought with my own money.
Blasphemous Rumours - In order to convince my grandmother to buy me the Some Great Reward cassette tape, I sang this song to her. Looking back as an adult, maybe not the wisest move to sing a song about teen suicide in order to get what you want from a senior citizen. Luckily, my grandma was seriously kick-ass. And not only bought be the tape I coveted, but three other Depeche Mode tapes as well, ushering me into my alternative-rock-girl phase.
Forever Young - Quite simply, THE angst song of my middle and high school years.
Crazy For You - The song I slowdanced to with David H. at a middle school dance.
Will You Still Be There - my favorite song on the very first CD I ever owned, One to One (Howard Jones). That was back when CDs were considered newfangled technology. My parents didn't even own any CDs at the time my Uncle Dan bought this for me.
On My Own - the best musical song ever, sung by my all-time favorite character. I used to sing in incessantly in high school with my BFF Lisa.
Somewhere - Song I sang for my very first high school musical audition. I got the part. :)
Respect - the song I sang at the senior talent show, as part of a medley with Proud Mary and Cold Hearted Snake. Yeah, don't ask.
Lean on Me - the song the senior drama students sang together at the end of our class. Sniff.
Waiting for Somebody - my roommate Amy and I used to play this song incessantly, and "dance it out", long before Grey's Anatomy coined the term.
I Can't Help Falling in Love with You (UB40 version) - The song playing the first time my (future) husband kissed me.
You Are So Beautful - The first dance song at our wedding. Eventually arrived at after much negotiation because my husband hates to dance and didn't want anything too complicated.
Baby Mine - the song I sang to my children every single night of their babyhoods to get them to fall asleep. It still chokes me up every time I hear it.
Conquest - How could I not include the USC Trojan fight song?
Fighter - my favorite work out song, along with Love is a Battlefield. Always gets me going faster on the treadmill.
Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World - There was an episode of the tv show Ally McBeal in the 90's that posed the question "what is your theme song?" Your theme song is the one that expresses who you are. Without a doubt, this is mine.
Someone to Watch Over Me - my all-time favorite, and go-to Karaoke song (but I don't sing it nearly as well).
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Next week: tattoos and pool halls.
I've always considered myself to be on the stricter side of things when it comes to parenting. Manners are big in my house, and my kids are always complaining about their early bedtimes and the tragic, barren lives that they lead.
So imagine my surprise when I ended up causing a stir in my circle of mommy friends recently, and all because of my permissiveness. Let me just say, when they said it takes a village to raise a child, I had no idea that said village would be weighing in on my choices like an American Idol judges panel.
And the cause of the controversy? Ear piercing.
I allowed my 8 year-old daughter to get her ears pierced recently. After two years of her begging, and her demonstrating to me that she was responsible enough to take care of them.
The amount of discussion and debate over my decision definitely caught me by surprise. I hate making waves, intentional or otherwise.
And the worst part-- all of this is really going to interfere with my plans to start her on alcohol and cigarettes next week.*
*In case it's not obvious, I'm kidding here. My kids aren't even allowed to drink soda or eat sugary breakfast cereals. Please don't call CPS on me.
So imagine my surprise when I ended up causing a stir in my circle of mommy friends recently, and all because of my permissiveness. Let me just say, when they said it takes a village to raise a child, I had no idea that said village would be weighing in on my choices like an American Idol judges panel.
And the cause of the controversy? Ear piercing.
I allowed my 8 year-old daughter to get her ears pierced recently. After two years of her begging, and her demonstrating to me that she was responsible enough to take care of them.
The amount of discussion and debate over my decision definitely caught me by surprise. I hate making waves, intentional or otherwise.
And the worst part-- all of this is really going to interfere with my plans to start her on alcohol and cigarettes next week.*
*In case it's not obvious, I'm kidding here. My kids aren't even allowed to drink soda or eat sugary breakfast cereals. Please don't call CPS on me.
Monday, January 18, 2010
With apologies to Oprah...how to live your best life
As many people already know, I've tackled a somewhat crazy list of new year's resolutions this year. Not crazy in and of themselves, but when you consider the drastic changes they've meant to my life, I wouldn't blame people for thinking they needed to call the men in the little white coats to carry me away. I mean, who would have thought that a one-week diet detox was the least of my worries?
The biggest lifestyle change has been in the exercise department. I've gone from yoga and/or pilates twice a week (plus the occasional spin class here or there) to working out 7 days a week. And when I say working out, I mean Boot Camp 5 days/week at 6am, Yoga 2 days/week and a sprinkling of weight training all 7 days to round it all out. Insanity. And honestly, 18 days ago I would have thought there was no possible way I could keep it up for longer than a day. But I'm a stubborn person, who hates to fail at anything, so here I am.
There's a great sign on the wall of my gym that says "Defy expectations. Banish all doubt." I've now taken that on as my own personal mantra-- not just for working out, but for everything else in life. There is absolutely no reason that all of us can't accomplish anything that we put our minds to. As I am constantly reminding my children when they don't try their best at something, hard work and discipline make the difference between ordinary and extraordinary.
The biggest doubters are often ourselves. Life beats us down, and we can sometimes think that where we are is the only place we're ever going to be. But I look at my children, who know with absolute certainty that they are going to grow up to be a famous actress and a major league baseball player. The thought of not succeeding has never crossed their minds. And I think of that whenever my mind is telling me no, you can't. Put yourself in the best possible position to be successful, and you won't be disappointed, no matter what the final outcome.
As someone told me when I started my novel, writing a novel is a "someday" activity- as in, "I'll do it someday." In 2010, I challenge you to find your own someday activity. If we all decide that someday is today, there is literally no limit to what we can accomplish.
*steps off soapbox*
The biggest lifestyle change has been in the exercise department. I've gone from yoga and/or pilates twice a week (plus the occasional spin class here or there) to working out 7 days a week. And when I say working out, I mean Boot Camp 5 days/week at 6am, Yoga 2 days/week and a sprinkling of weight training all 7 days to round it all out. Insanity. And honestly, 18 days ago I would have thought there was no possible way I could keep it up for longer than a day. But I'm a stubborn person, who hates to fail at anything, so here I am.
There's a great sign on the wall of my gym that says "Defy expectations. Banish all doubt." I've now taken that on as my own personal mantra-- not just for working out, but for everything else in life. There is absolutely no reason that all of us can't accomplish anything that we put our minds to. As I am constantly reminding my children when they don't try their best at something, hard work and discipline make the difference between ordinary and extraordinary.
The biggest doubters are often ourselves. Life beats us down, and we can sometimes think that where we are is the only place we're ever going to be. But I look at my children, who know with absolute certainty that they are going to grow up to be a famous actress and a major league baseball player. The thought of not succeeding has never crossed their minds. And I think of that whenever my mind is telling me no, you can't. Put yourself in the best possible position to be successful, and you won't be disappointed, no matter what the final outcome.
As someone told me when I started my novel, writing a novel is a "someday" activity- as in, "I'll do it someday." In 2010, I challenge you to find your own someday activity. If we all decide that someday is today, there is literally no limit to what we can accomplish.
*steps off soapbox*
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The one that got away.
Once upon a time, I applied to 12 colleges.
I was accepted to 11 of them. This is the story of that other one.
My type-A nature had always made me a motivated student, so I knew very early on in the application process which schools would make my short list. Aside from the usual suspects in the UC system, I also looked toward the east. There were a variety of reasons for it, most of which are a bit too revealing about my psyche to write about publicly. But the main reason was simply that I had this vision of going far away for school. Far, far away. Preferably to a place where it snowed.
3 such institutions of higher learning made the final application cut: Syracuse (because of their outstanding journalism program), Boston University (both because they heavily recruited me, and because I had just seen the Rob Lowe classic Oxford Blues and was wooed by the shots of their crew team on brochure covers), and then there was my top choice-- Northwestern.
Northwestern was one of those schools that met all the criteria. It was far away from home, it had both an amazing journalism program AND an amazing theater program, and there was Division I football. I was a girl with simple needs.
As you might have guessed, Northwestern was the one that rejected me. And all these years later, I still haven't forgotten the feeling of opening the letter that essentially told me I wasn't good enough. I was devastated, and the fact that I had my pick of 11 other top-notch institutions of higher learning (including Stanford, UCLA and Cal) wasn't any consolation to my 17-year-old self.
So flash forward all these many years. I'm minding my own business at work (ok, fine, I was on Facebook) when I receive an email invitation from this very same university, asking me if I would share my expertise with a class of undergraduates by guest lecturing. I must admit, I enjoyed the delicious irony. I wasn't good enough to actually attend the university myself, but I was good enough to teach those who were. How could I pass up the opportunity?
Yesterday was the big day. I braved the cold (seriously people, 12 degrees shouldn't even be allowed to be a real temperature) and finally entered the doors of the Medill School of Journalism. I met the legendary communications professor that invited me, and tried not to go too fangurly on him. It was one of those moments that will forever be burned on my brain, just for its sheer impossibility.
The lecture itself was a success, and I particularly got a chuckle from the brown nosing students who came up to me afterward to get my business card and tell me how inspiring I was. And when the head of the entire department shook my hand afterward and talked about me coming back again in the Spring, I couldn't help but feel like I had finally come full circle. And I realized that sometimes it can be hard in the midst of disappointment to see beyond the moment. And that things may not have worked out the way you wanted them to, but that doesn't mean that they won't work out the way that they were meant to. After all, had I gone to Northwestern, I would have never met my husband. I may not have a degree from my "dream school", but I still have managed to do just fine, in both my life and in my career.
And I didn't even need to brave 4 years of Evanston winters to get there.
I was accepted to 11 of them. This is the story of that other one.
My type-A nature had always made me a motivated student, so I knew very early on in the application process which schools would make my short list. Aside from the usual suspects in the UC system, I also looked toward the east. There were a variety of reasons for it, most of which are a bit too revealing about my psyche to write about publicly. But the main reason was simply that I had this vision of going far away for school. Far, far away. Preferably to a place where it snowed.
3 such institutions of higher learning made the final application cut: Syracuse (because of their outstanding journalism program), Boston University (both because they heavily recruited me, and because I had just seen the Rob Lowe classic Oxford Blues and was wooed by the shots of their crew team on brochure covers), and then there was my top choice-- Northwestern.
Northwestern was one of those schools that met all the criteria. It was far away from home, it had both an amazing journalism program AND an amazing theater program, and there was Division I football. I was a girl with simple needs.
As you might have guessed, Northwestern was the one that rejected me. And all these years later, I still haven't forgotten the feeling of opening the letter that essentially told me I wasn't good enough. I was devastated, and the fact that I had my pick of 11 other top-notch institutions of higher learning (including Stanford, UCLA and Cal) wasn't any consolation to my 17-year-old self.
So flash forward all these many years. I'm minding my own business at work (ok, fine, I was on Facebook) when I receive an email invitation from this very same university, asking me if I would share my expertise with a class of undergraduates by guest lecturing. I must admit, I enjoyed the delicious irony. I wasn't good enough to actually attend the university myself, but I was good enough to teach those who were. How could I pass up the opportunity?
Yesterday was the big day. I braved the cold (seriously people, 12 degrees shouldn't even be allowed to be a real temperature) and finally entered the doors of the Medill School of Journalism. I met the legendary communications professor that invited me, and tried not to go too fangurly on him. It was one of those moments that will forever be burned on my brain, just for its sheer impossibility.
The lecture itself was a success, and I particularly got a chuckle from the brown nosing students who came up to me afterward to get my business card and tell me how inspiring I was. And when the head of the entire department shook my hand afterward and talked about me coming back again in the Spring, I couldn't help but feel like I had finally come full circle. And I realized that sometimes it can be hard in the midst of disappointment to see beyond the moment. And that things may not have worked out the way you wanted them to, but that doesn't mean that they won't work out the way that they were meant to. After all, had I gone to Northwestern, I would have never met my husband. I may not have a degree from my "dream school", but I still have managed to do just fine, in both my life and in my career.
And I didn't even need to brave 4 years of Evanston winters to get there.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Resolving to make resolutions
What would a new year be without some resolutions I can promptly break? So here are mine, in no particular order:
1. Health. I'm starting off the year with a one-week detox program-- no meat, dairy, sugar, alcohol, caffeine or preservatives. My family is taking bets on whether I survive.
2. Simplify. My life is unnecessarily complicated, mostly due to my own making. I'm going to do a Spring Cleaning of sorts...eliminating both the stuff and people in my life that are just taking up space. I'm going to stop caring about the things that don't matter, and just remove some of the drama.
3. Learn. I want to learn to do something new this year. I haven't figured out what it's going to be yet, but tops on the consideration list: ballroom dancing. But not with my husband. Because his new year's resolution is to never learn to ballroom dance.
4. Appreciate. Life goes by in the blink of an eye, and people you love can be gone in a moment. Our entire family was reminded of the gift of second chances last week, and we're all going to try and express our gratitude every single day.
5. Laugh. Often. Especially when what I most want to do in a given moment is scream or cry.
6. Unplug. Sometimes, being completely inaccessible is the greatest gift of all.
Happy 2010!
1. Health. I'm starting off the year with a one-week detox program-- no meat, dairy, sugar, alcohol, caffeine or preservatives. My family is taking bets on whether I survive.
2. Simplify. My life is unnecessarily complicated, mostly due to my own making. I'm going to do a Spring Cleaning of sorts...eliminating both the stuff and people in my life that are just taking up space. I'm going to stop caring about the things that don't matter, and just remove some of the drama.
3. Learn. I want to learn to do something new this year. I haven't figured out what it's going to be yet, but tops on the consideration list: ballroom dancing. But not with my husband. Because his new year's resolution is to never learn to ballroom dance.
4. Appreciate. Life goes by in the blink of an eye, and people you love can be gone in a moment. Our entire family was reminded of the gift of second chances last week, and we're all going to try and express our gratitude every single day.
5. Laugh. Often. Especially when what I most want to do in a given moment is scream or cry.
6. Unplug. Sometimes, being completely inaccessible is the greatest gift of all.
Happy 2010!
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