I went to the live taping of @midnight. This is my experience…

This has been several months in the draft stage due to me not having a computer to finish it on until recently.   It’s nice to have something to type on that doesn’t require glasses in order to see.  But anyways,  for my 46th birthday I wanted to visit my family in California.  I’ve been away too damn long and really needed a dose of vitamin ‘C'(alifornia). My wonderful husband made the arrangements and opted to stay home so I could have some much needed family time with my nephew and his wife and 4 littles .  In preparing for my visit I decided to browse around the internet for ideas of things that my nephew and I could do together.  We both are huge Chris Hardwick fans, so I did some research and found out that 1iota (www.1iota.com) offers audience tickets for many live tapings of shows such as @midnight….

by signing up for their website and submitting a request form giving a brief explanation on why you feel you should be selected as a part of their studio audience (I am assuming that originality in this portion of the request form may better your chances in it standing out from the other requests.   I totally played the birthday card on mine!).  I was given the option of requesting 1 or 2 tickets.  If you want to bring a guest, the site requires that you enter the name and email address of the person that is going with you.   After I submitted my request form I received a confirmation email acknowledging receipt of my request.  After that, it’s a waiting game…..you can check the status of your requested tickets in your 1iota account.  Mine were showing as ‘waitlist’.
A week or so later I receive an email informing me that my tickets request status had been moved from waitlist to ‘priority’!   Priority!  That sounded important!    Yay!   On the website you can once again confirm that you do want to go to the show and in the email there is a link where you can print out your ticket. I printed mine out and kept it safely in a plastic page protector.  

Wait…. does that ticket say ‘LIVE’?  Yep it does!   Because the show was on election night they decided to do a special taping.  Since @midnight covers topics happening in the world and current news, it only made sense that they would make election night (aka The Demo-pacalypse) the granddaddy of all shows extra special!

Of course, with any studio audience admission, there are rules that needed to be followed.

Upscale casual meant finding something cute to wear.  Since losing 60+ lbs clothes shopping has become fun again rather than a painful, embarrassing chore.  I had already decided for my birthday that I was going to wear a tiara all day! So i found a cocktail dress that matched my birthday princess tiara and at the last minute decided to also put on something i had acquired from Disneyland the day before…..   why not, right?!


The other instructions on the e ticket are pretty self explanatory.  No cameras, cellphones, food, drink allowed in the studio.  Understandable but I was bummed that I couldn’t at least get one photo sitting in the studio audience or…. even a selfie with Chris himself.  My nephew and i obeyed the rules though, (begrudgingly!)  and left our phones in the car.

Brian and I had originally planned to arrive a few hours early since we had no idea what to expect, and heading to Hollywood on the night of the election was a guaranteed shitshow, however our GPS directed us right to the studio down a series of residential streets. The next thing we knew we saw a couple members of the 1iota team waving us in. We got there just in time to get a parking space right in front!   Check in was a breeze and the staff at 1iota couldn’t have been nicer. They checked our tickets, ids, and asked if we had any cameras/cellphones.  (Again we were reminded to leave them in the car since photos and video were prohibited inside. 😢 *sniffle* no selfies with Chris and the guests…oh well, maybe some other time).

After we checked in we were directed to sit and wait on some benches located outside of the studio door.  We had gotten there early enough where we were at the end of the first of three long benches (think sports bleachers minus the height)   We met and spoke to a few people who had been guests of the audience before. One lady said she had just found out that afternoon that tickets were available so she cleared her schedule so she could attend (if I lived close by you’d better believe I would do the same thing!)   The 1iota crew were all so nice taking the time to stop and chat with several of the audience hopefuls as we waited to get an update on when we would be lead into the studio.

About a half hour before showtime we were finally filed in, grade school style in the order of how everyone had been sitting on the benches. Just outside the door of the studio was a taco truck with the name TREJO’S TACOS brandished on the side.  Brian and I were dying to grab a taco on the way out, but sadly they had closed by the time the show was over. *sniffle*

We were seated in the second row right in front of the stage!!! One of the lovely iota employees made a comment to ‘let the Birthday princess sit right near the front’ which made my night all that more special.  Yay!   The stage was done up with the election night theme (Murica!), and while everyone was being seated the Daily Show with Trevor Noah was showing on the tv on the stage.  Trevor was sitting at his desk with a bottle of pepto bismol next to him and recapping live election updates.   Since none of us had access to the inter webs and social media, we didn’t have any idea which way the presidential election was going.  The update was met with a mixed gasp and groan from the @ midnight audience.

Pretty soon the warm up comedian came out and started discussing what we were to expect when we went ‘live’.   This was a new venture for @midnight, so tensions were extremely high. He told us that usually the show was filmed in a series of retakes over the span of a couple of hours at most, but on this night everything would be done with mistakes and all in 30 minutes. Thirty minutes!  We were also told to not get up from our seats once the show started.  Some of the cameras passed right over your head and I would imagine could easily clock you senseless if one were to stand up quickly. Also, we were told to laugh more than clap. Applause would drown out the comedians as they played the game and cause the show to lag.

The warm up comedian was great!  Interacting with the audience and getting everyone involved and pumped for the show.  He asked me why I was wearing my tiara in which I simply answered “it’s my birthday!”  And when he asked me who gave me the tiara I said “I did!”  Doh!  Seemed a bit egotistical now that I look back on it.

Showtime!
Out walks Chris looking totes adorbs 😊 (fan girl reference, sorry!) albeit a bit stressed.  Everyone was emphasizing how intense this night was being the first time it was being shown live.  Anything could happen, so everyone was super focused.  Chris, with ear piece in place was listening in to the countdown of when the show would go live (as well as an update on the election)
One by one the guest comedians were introduced and walked out on the stage.

Paul F Tompkins! (A fixture on @midnight and I’ve totally been a fan since Mr Show!)

Whitney Cummings! (Comedy Central roast fame, not to mention the reason behind one of my favorite shows 2 broke girls (and Netflix’s Ridiculous Six)

And………
AND…………….
RON FUNCHES!!! Need I say more?
Pretty kick ass lineup!
There’s me!  you can see the back of my head with the egotistical birthday tiara slightly sparkling in the lights…


The whole show went without a hitch, and for the most part us the audience remained well behaved during the live taping.   There was a guy behind us that exclaimed loudly when there was a mention by the comedians that weed was now legal in the state of California.  He let out a ‘WOOOOOOOOOO!” which people snickered at, but at one of the commercial breaks my nephew overheard one of the producers telling the guy to not do that again.   (Of course I’m sure he felt it was worth it since it warranted a response from Funches.)  Also in between breaks the makeup staff would rush out and freshen up host and guests, and Chris would check his laptop, phone and listen into his earpiece all at once.  He did come out once on break and personally thank the audience for being so great on what was a very tense night for everyone involved with the show.

Oh and there was a surprise appearance from Doug Benson… because… marijuana and tacos.
At the end of the show everyone filed our, we got into our car and headed home.  Overall we had a fantastic time and I had one of the best birthdays ever!  The show went really fast but I’m so happy that we were able to attend the first live taping  which happened to be ON my bday and had an amazing panel of guests.   It really made me miss living in California.  Maybe someday.  Maybe after Japan….
One more thing, at the very end of the show Chris went down into the audience and across each row ‘high fiving’ each of us.  When he got to the person sitting to the other side of my nephew, he somehow stumbled and landed a brief moment between Brian and me.   I may not have gotten a selfie with Chris, but I did get to play a part in helping him not fall onto the floor. lol.

If you are ever in the LA area and want to see a live taping of a show, whether it be @midnight or something else,  check out http://www.1iota.com and see what they have to offer.  They are SUPER nice, and have some great opportunities to be a part of some really great events and live tapings (coughTalkingDeadcough).   Actually they aren’t just in California… just go check it out for yourself and I’d love to hear anyone else’s experiences.  Let me know!

 

The other Stacey’s mom

In my elementary school class we had two Staceys, myself and another girl.    We were friendly with one another for the most part but I wouldn’t say we were ‘friends’.     She was more social than I was (back then the lunch lady was more social than I was!) and I would just assume melt into the wallpaper most days at school rather than    be a part of a gaggle of girls.   That’s why I have so many observation stories to share,  I wasn’t like a ‘normal’ kid.  But anyways..

If I remember correctly the other Stacey’s mother worked in some position at our school so she was able to keep a close eye on her daughter.  In social terms that made her more popular.  Her parents had a big house, drove a nice car and she always had pretty clothes.  Every year for her birthday her mother would bring trays of cupcakes to her class for all of the kids.  She was liked by everyone and everyone wanted to be her best friend.   A few of my classmates had mothers that were teachers or worked in the church part of the school while mine was a glorified stay at home mom. (nothing at ALL to be ashamed of because my mom rocked her job!)  but in ‘popular kid’ terms that wasn’t enough to join the cook kid cliques.   Cliques in my class were easily divided by popularity and that means the only clique I was in was my own.  Well, me and one other person, my best friend Tammy.  At school her and I did everything together, and when she wasn’t at school I would sit by myself somewhere at recess and patiently wait for the day to be over.   My teachers told my mother about it all the time and said I needed to be more social with the other kids.  So my mom signed us up with some carpool to school program that the other mothers were doing. Every day a different mom would drive us all to and from school. ( It just so happened that the kids that were in my carpool was a few of the girls who weren’t very fond of me.)  When the carpool idea didn’t work,  the teachers in my class started putting me and the other Stacey together in the same study group hoping that we would become bffs based on the fact that we shared the same name.  Then, one day her mother showed up to our classroom and passed out party invitations to everyone in the class,  myself included.   Stacey was having a birthday party.

My mom was more excited about the party than I was.  She went out one day while I was at school and bought a birthday gift for me to take to the party and then picked out my outfit I was going to wear.   Thankfully Tammy was invited too and I knew I could rely on her to help me blend into the surroundings.  My mom, however urged me to try to make new friends.  All I could tell her was “I’ll try”.

I remember walking inside Stacey’s house and thinking to myself “WOW”.   Every inch of her house was decorated up for this party right down to colored balloons, streamers and her name on banners pretty much in every room.   Stacey was all dressed up with yellow ribbons in her hair  and very politely thanking everyone for coming all the while as her mother was ushering kids into the back yard for festivities.  There were games, food,  and all of the kids were getting along well for the most part, and I remember I even came out of my shell for a bit that afternoon since the kids that were normally mean towards me seemed to accept me and we all ran around acting like little girls (as much as we could run around in our party dresses, that is!)

Just before the party was over,  Stacey’s mother told us all to get in a line and lead us over to a patio table where a big book sat.

“Now, I want everyone to sign this for Stacey!”  she said “Write something nice about her and how much you appreciate this party”   I looked over at Stacey and she was burying her face in her hands.  I think she wanted to fade away into her surroundings like I usually did.  The book turned out to be a memory book of some sort.  A glorified baby book and beyond, so to speak.  Every single social event in her life so far had been documented in this book and her mom carefully made sure that her daughter had a memento that she would look back on in years to come and remember how much fun her childhood was.
By the time I got to the table she handed me a pen and I started to write “Thank you for inviting me to your party,  love Stacey”   Her mom looked at what I was writing and snatched the pen out of my hand and tossed it onto the table.   “What? No!…  write something else … something you like about her! You can do much better than that!”.  Normally her mother was so sweet and soft spoken,  but not now!     I looked at all of the other signatures before me and there were things like “I like your dimples”  “you have a nice back yard”   “your cake was pink, my fav color”    Finally I picked the pen back up  wrote “I like that we have the same name”  and handed the pen back to her.   She took it, looked back down at what I wrote and dismissed me with a wave.   I guess my entry was sufficient.  I then went back into the yard and joined the other kids who were all now looking for Stacey.  She was nowhere to be found though, and I think she stayed scarce until the party ended and our parents all arrived to pick us up.  After that her mother came out and passed out party bags for everyone that had toys and other things inside them.  “Stacey picked each of these out just for you!”   That appeased us kids for the most part and everyone seemed to forget the weird book incident.

After that I saw Stacey,  and the other popular kids in a different light.    Everybody had some form of weirdness they had to deal with in their lives.. whether you were popular or not popular.   Her mom wanted to preserve her daughter’s social life in a book,  whether she liked it or not.    I have no doubt she meant well… but she should have gotten more of her daughter’s input first.

 

I wonder if she still has it to this day..?

Money in snails

Grapevinesnail_01

A few of my more recent posts have had a darker tone so I figured I would lighten things up a bit with a childhood memory.

When I was  little I was fascinated with pennies and other shiny coins just like any other kid my age.  I was too young to have an ‘allowance’,  but my father would occasionally  give me special chores around the house in order to earn a few coinage. Whenever he presented these tasks to me he made it sound like only I could do it and it was VERY important.   It kept me busy and would give my mom a break from having to find things for me to do.   This one particular time I remember he was out gardening as he did every weekend.   I would sit out and watch him or occasionally pick up a rake and do my best attempt at helping.   He brought me over the bucket that he would use to wash his VW and set it down next to me.

“Stacey, I have a fun project for you to do tomorrow! The snails are eating our garden,  how about I give you a nickel for each one you find in the yard?   Put them in this bucket and I will count them when I come home from work ”

Challenge.  ACCEPTED!

That night all I could think of was starting the next morning as early as possible so I could find every snail that resided on our property.  I had dreams of making handfuls and handfuls of nickels,  enough to buy whatever I wanted at Toys R Us..  Yep,  I would be rich and my dad would be so proud of me when he saw that I had cleansed the earth of those shell wearing, plant eating pests!

 

I grabbed my bucket (didn’t get up at the crack of dawn like I had planned but I was still out early enough before my mom started playing her soap operas on the kitchen television)  and got to work.     I scoured every inch of the yard both back and front.   Behind every bush, flower, rock, along the fence line, around the trees…    and by the end of the day I had accumulated a large cache of snails.     To a child’s eye I had hundreds in that bucket when in reality I probably only had maybe 20 or 30.    It didn’t matter,  all I cared about was my daddy was going to be thrilled with me and I was going to make a LOT of money!    My mom called me in for lunch shortly after that and I could hear “All my Children” on her television,  so I knew it was around noontime.  I didn’t want the snails climbing out of the bucket so I carried it inside into my bathroom and placed it in the bathtub. Closing the little sliding glass door shut on the tub I thought to myself   “There!   they would never get out and would be safe and sound for when my dad got home!”

My father usually came home from work in the evening around 6 or so  (or just after when the ABC evening news theme could be heard on the television).   Mom kept her small kitchen TV playing throughout the day while she puttered around doing her ‘mom things’ so I was able to tell certain times of the day just by what I heard coming from that tv.   I ate lunch,  then went to my room to play.   All I could think of was how proud my dad was going to be when he saw how hard I had worked in the yard that day..  Maybe he would even pay me DOUBLE per snail!     I was going to be set for life!

“OH MY GOD!  DAMNIT!  STAAACEEEEEYYY!!!”
My mom’s voice boomed through the house like an explosion.  I remember I had my bedroom door closed and occasionally I could hear her walk to and from past my door throughout the afternoon doing whatever she was doing.

 

“STACEY!”

 

I opened my door and walked out into the hall.  Literally having no idea what was wrong I looked in the kitchen and the living room for her,  but she wasn’t there.

“Mommy?  where are you?”   I stood there silently waiting for her reply
“I. AM. IN. YOUR. BATHROOM!”

Oh.. ok.     I continued down the hall towards the bathroom still wondering why she was so worked up.   Mom was sort of a drama queen and did tend to overreact at times so it could be anything.    Still, I hadn’t done anything wrong (in fact, in my mind I was a hero that day!)  so the sound and tone of her voice didn’t  jar me one bit ….  until I peeked around the corner into the bathroom.

 

Now,  they say that when you are young and learn things for the first time,  life experiences tend to help things ‘stick’ in your mind more.  Stuff like ‘don’t touch one of the stove burners while they are hot’… burn yourself once and you never do it again.    ‘don’t pick up a bee with your bare hands to get a closer look’…. you’ll get stung.   The lesson I learned today was this:

Snails can get out of a bucket.  snails can also get out of a bathtub with a sliding glass door.   They do not climb, they do not hop and they do not fly… they slime themselves out of the bucket, across the tub and up the wall.

What my mother saw when she walked into the bathroom I am surprised she didn’t pass out.  There were snails everywhere… EVERYWHERE~  on the walls, ceiling, all across the room.   Their slimy trails decorating behind them in zig zag patterns…. all over the white walls.

 

“What the HELL is this?!”

 

I looked around the room still confused at what I was looking at.   huh… I didn’t think they could do that.   I think all I was trying to ponder was why did I find so many on the ground if they could go wherever they wanted by sliming themselves around like that.  Maybe there was more up in the trees I could find later.!

 

“LOOK AT THIS GODDAMN MESS!”

 

Oops.. mom cussed but only mild cuss words.   She would say damnit, and hell the most  (never, ever the brown word or the dreaded f word)   She still would make those 2 mild words just as lethal sounding by the way she pronounced them.     By that time I finally started weighing in on the severity of this situation.   She walked out of the bathroom and I followed behind her.   Stopping for a second she doubled back to the bathroom and slammed the door shut muttering something about how she didn’t want the snails to get out any further.   I continued to follow her into the kitchen explaining the whole situation from my innocent point of view.   I told her about the very important job daddy had given me and how I was going to make a lot of money off of those snails and I didn’t want them left outside where they could crawl out so I brought them in to the bathroom where they would be safe.    Mom waved her hand in front of her face as if to tell me she had heard enough..  with a huge sigh she sat down on her white ‘telephone talking’ stool, picked up the phone and dialed a number.    I sat down at the kitchen table and watched her,  still trying to process the fact that I had done something wrong rather than something completely amazingly awesome.

“Cindi,  do you want to hear what your little sister just did?”

She had called my sister.   Uh oh…   I sat silently and listened to her recant the whole story from when she walked in and found the snails right up to my version of why I had done what I did.   When she was done talking she was silent for a few minutes,  then said “Ok.. I will talk to you later after Frank gets home”   and hung up the phone.

“Mommy, I wanted to say hi to Sissy!”    Really bummed out that she had hung up the phone before I was able to talk to her.    Mom did another deep, heavy sigh and looked over at me sitting at the kitchen table.

“Oh,  she couldn’t talk…. she was laughing too hard”

Mom spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the bathroom walls.   I asked her once if I could help but she replied that I had done enough and to go do something else in my room.  I didn’t argue…

Later on that evening when my father came home I am sure mom unloaded on him.   I think I hid in my room until after that exchange was done, unsure of what would happen.   A few times up until he got home I went to my room and cried finally realizing how badly I had screwed up.  All I wanted to do was make my daddy happy and make a few bucks on the side!   Would he be mad at me?   Would he never ask me for help again?  Was I a huge disappointment?

Dad came into my room and sat down on my bed.    Now was the moment if he was going to yell at me it was going to happen.   I looked at him and couldn’t even think of what to say.. so I waited for him to say the first word.

“Well now, your mother told me what happened today….”

Uh huh…   I looked down at my feet and was waiting for him to react the way mom had.  Imagine my surprise when I looked back up at him and he was smiling.

“I guess now we learned something new today about snails!”   he said with a smirk.

He wasn’t mad at all!    He knew my intentions were well meaning and I wasn’t in trouble!   That’s all I was worried about the whole day was disappointing my dad.     He probably sat quietly while my mom yelled and screamed about his ‘stupid’ idea to have me collect snails,  then when she was through he came in to make sure I was okay.   My father the hero!   I never gave him enough credit for being the one who understood me the most.

That night he took me to 31 Flavors ice cream for a cone.   We would do that occasionally and walk up and down the little strip mall looking in all the windows of the businesses while we ate our ice cream.  I don’t think we talked at all about the snails but this was his way of telling me that everything was going to be okay.    Dad still gave me occasional mini jobs to make a little money,  but they never EVER again involved snails!

The above story became a tradition of sorts  to recant at holiday gatherings,  to visiting friends (and my boyfriends), and basically to anyone that would listen when the mood struck my mother or sister.   Cindi had told me years later that it was one of her favorite stories to tell people.     Her little sister that painted the bathroom walls and ceiling with snail slime.   Yep,  that’s me!

 

First impressions and cliques- from schoolyard to senior home

bully-pic-2-GettyImages_200181253-001

Have you ever drawn up a conclusion of someone you have never met based on what others have said about them? I’m sure you have… everyone has at some point in their lives. Especially in grade school. “Ugh! That new girl is such a slut! I heard blah blah blah blah about her!” Gossip and rumors.. childish shit. Yet first impressions are always such an important thing it can really distort your view of someone whether you mean to or not.

For instance:

In the 7th grade a new girl arrived at our school. Her name was Shannon. I remember she had a mouth full of metal, wore bright red lipstick , her hair curly and pulled back in a barrette . Almost to the day that Shannon started there the rumor mill (aka the henhouse of popular girls that didn’t have anything else better to do than start up drama) started in on her. There was rumors flying everywhere as to WHY she had started at her school (she was pregnant? Runaway? She was kicked out of her old school? She had MONO?) every single possibility flowed from lips to ear of the kids in my class. Whether it was true or not, her ‘reputation’ at my school was ruined before she got to say hello to anyone. Kids whispered behind her back while she walked around with a bright smile just as friendly as she could be to everyone. Eventually she must have caught wind of what people were saying about her, but back when I was growing up there wasn’t any Jerry Springer style smack downs out on the playground,  so she held her tongue. She had a small group of friends that she hung out with (the ‘outcasts’ as dubbed by the henhouse) Now that I look back on it, Shannon didn’t last at my school for very long… I wonder what happened to her.

Once you graduate and leave school that same hen house mentality follows you out into the adult world.   In work places people tend to form cliques and that can either make or break YOUR future in that company if you don’t measure up.   I’m sure everyone has been given the run down on the employees to watch out for on a first day of a new job.  “So and so is trouble!  He/she lies!  don’t trust so and so!”   I started one job and felt so threatened by a fellow employee that I hadn’t even met yet because of my co workers who wanted to warn me about how awful they were.   Funny thing is,  after I did meet this person we became quite close friends with over time.   They weren’t as evil as everyone made them out to be… it was just that typical drama llama bullshit   Gossip,  rumors.   I’ve been on all sides of the spectrum with that. I’ve lead, followed and been ‘voted off the island’ because I just wasn’t good enough.

Through the years I’ve become more reserved around people. I used to be very outgoing and social, wanting to join in on team building events, social gatherings, etc.  Nowadays I’d rather just do my job and go home,  distancing myself from the drama.   Many mistake it for being angry or aloof when I sit quietly. I’ve lost count of the times people judge the look on my face as something bad when all I am doing is trying to stay in the background  (“Geez!  Look at your face! *horrified look*). I used to try to explain to people that’s just how I am but I’ve since given up. Those that care enough to get to know me KNOW the real me. It’s like most people would rather just rely on their own opinions of you rather than trying to get to know who you are. It’s that which is making this world a very very unhappy place.. 😦

This topic came to mind lately when someone new arrived where I work. This person has had daggers for me from day one and I have no idea why. I know gossip (especially amongst an office full of females) runs rampant everywhere and I’m sure since I have developed the title of ‘angry aloof’ that conclusions are being assumed that I’m not a nice person.   I’ve overheard everyone talking about everyone so that doesn’t surprise me..  what bothers me is it feels like I was the topic in a ‘watch out for this person’ discussion.   Part of me wanted to take this person aside in the beginning to try to find out why I’m being  treated like I have a horn growing out of the center of my forehead.    Getting all of this out of my brain and onto these pages though,  I’ve decided that it’s not worth my time.    People nowadays are going to think exactly what they want to.  You can’t please everyone in this life and so it’s more important to focus on those that DO appreciate you for who you are.

Bottom line..   to hell with them,  it’s their loss.

Vintage record collection- Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass !! Going Places !!

IMG_2125 IMG_2126 IMG_2122record back

How funny… up until I took and uploaded these pictures I always thought it was Herb AlBert. 🙂   I was a very eclectic kid growing up.. aka my parents’ record collection became my own.   As you’ll continue to see I used to listen to a variety of different records.   It didn’t make any difference to me,  it was music and I had it there right in front of me.

Vintage record collection

Just unearthed a box of my old records from growing up.   I have no idea what I am going to do with them so I figured i’d take a picture of each before I discard them.   I have lots and lots of hours of fond memories sitting indian style on the floor in front of my record player playing each of these records over and over and over again.   Records were THE thing back in the day.   I would go to GEMCO with my mother with my allowance and while she shopped for groceries I would loiter in the record album area and buy the latest Disney read along record/book that had come out.    Then I would hide in those circular garment racks and look at my new purchase eagerly awaiting to go home so I could play it for the first time.

This first one I chose to photograph and share  wasn’t one I bought from GEMCO, but rather it was a door to door salesman that was selling them.   What a coincidence too,  since I was currently going to a private Lutheran school and every year this would be the annual play for us kids to do.   I loved the play,  I loved the songs,  I loved that record.  I think even now 38 years later I could probably recite each word from the play and sing each song as well.    This play/musical made a huge impact on my little life back in the 70’s.. I loved the land of Agape!   You could play this record and turn page to page following all of the songs as they played.  Back then private school was fun.   It didn’t start to really suck until later on when all of the ‘cliques’ amongst the kids started to form.   That was when I developed a skill of looking down at my feet and sitting off away from the other kids as much as I could.  But.. that’s another story for another time.  Back to Agapeland!

Album Cover Music Machine   Music Machine page 1

Music Machine page 2   IMG_2081

Music Machine page 4    IMG_2081

Music Machine page 5   Music Machine page 6

Music Machine page 7    Music Machine page 8

Music Machine record side 1    Music Machine record side 1 real

Music Machine back cover

Thanks for checking this out!  🙂

Disclaimer

I don’t feel I NEED to put this out there but I’ve been asked by a few that know me IRL if I am worried about the people that I write about in here occasionally will find out or if feelings are being hurt by what I write.   My answer is simply:  NO.    A journal is for someone’s personal feelings and opinions as well as sharing pictures and memories.   I kind of want this journal to live on long after I’m gone so what few family member I have left can, if they want look back on it and see what made me ‘tick’.    Also,  I do not feel that anything I write on my page is anything wrong.  Why should I censor my own feelings?   It’s not hate speech.    I have said on more than one occasion that writing has been good therapy for me especially since I lost the one blood relative I could spend hours and talk to about anything.  The day I lost my sister a huge piece of me died too and this journal is a way to help me cope and still get things out even though I’ve lost that person in my life.    I was in a very dark place for a LONG time after she passed and doing this has helped me get suppressed thoughts and feelings out.

With that being said,  if anything I say offends someone then I highly encourage you to click away.  I do not set out in a post to hurt someone but rather get whatever is off my chest.. OFF.      If I am going to have to live in fear on being criticized in my real life for something I am writing in my journal,  that’s not fair.    For a while recently those criticisms took the creative wind out of my sails and  I was half tempted to delete this journal but now that I’ve had time to think it over I am going to stay and keep on doing what I am doing.   Most of you, my readers I have never met and have graciously subscribed to me through one way or another.  I appreciate whatever reads and comments I get, but mostly it’s a platform for me to express whatever I am feeling.  if people want to come along with me for the ride called my life then they are more than welcome.  I try not to mention any names and only a small handful of you know me outside of wordpress.

Ok then..  with that being said,  hopefully I will be back to regular programming shortly.

My Dove 48 hour experience

Ah!  What a perfect thing for me to test this time of year!    Missouri summers can be HOT, HUMID and MISERABLE!

temp

You get in your car and crank up the AC as high as it can go,  and you have to use your windshield wipers to clear your windows of the thick haze of moisture.

humid

Just walking from my car into my workplace I am dripping with sweat hoping that the AC will be working (sometimes it isn’t)    So…. with that being said putting this Dove deodorant isn’t going to be easy.   I have a lot of opportunity to offend people if this doesn’t work since my job involves interacting with people all day long.

The first day I applied it right after my morning shower.    It felt weird not putting something underneath my arms that didn’t feel like it was going to last.   Usually my deodorant of choice has had that ‘spackle’ feeling  (the more you put underneath there,  the longer it will work… or maybe that was just a mental thing?)  I go into work by 7am so it’s not blistering hot yet,  but…. the building is so old that if a thunderstorm happens to knock out the thermostat then by the time you enter the building you are already dealing with a steamy uncomfortable workplace.   Add in a slew of panting patients coming in and out all day for their appointments,then by noon you have a sauna that smells of dog breath.   So,  halfway through the day I felt the sweat dripping down my back but even though I was used to having that ‘spackle’ feeling of when I would apply my usual gel deodorant my arms still smelled and felt surprisingly dry.   By the time I got home and peeled my uniform off of my body,  I didn’t smell like  I had run a 5k.  In fact the light scent of cucumber and melon still was present from the application of the deodorant that morning.   Needless to say I was impressed!
The next day started off almost the same way,  except I needed to do more errands when I got off work.  So that meant a lot more walking to my car through the humidity and into different places.    Still at the end of the day I felt fresh and not stinky.   I even picked up another stick of Dove cucumber and melon to have in my travel suitcase 🙂   Overall I was pleased with the results.    The main thing I learned from his experience is that more necessarily isn’t better… and I won’t be putting on layers of gel deodorant ever again.  I appreciate influenster for giving me opportunity to try out this Dove product so I could learn something about it.   It definitely made me switch for good!

Etiquette guidance for attending a Regimental Ball..

Got this in my work email today and thought I’d share..     take notes in case YOU ever attend a ball of your own, if you do then you’ll be one step ahead of everyone else!

ETIQUETTE GUIDANCE FOR THE MESS

These guidelines are provided so all will be informed of what’s expected at a formal mess:

– No beverages in the receiving line.

– Receiving line is a time for greeting, not work or other related conversations.  Please be brief in order to allow all other attendees the same privilege and keep the line moving.

– Ladies go through the receiving line first (except for White House or diplomatic visits).

– Do not shake the Adjutant’s hand.  The Adjutant will be the first person in the receiving line, and their job is to introduce the members of the mess to the official party.  Provide title and name to the Adjutant (i.e., SPC John Doe, Ms Jane Doe).

– Remain standing in the mess (dining) area until the colors are posted.

– The youngest member of each table is responsible for charging glasses for the toasts.  This is best done well in advance of beginning the toasts.

– Distinctive unit insignia is not worn on shoulder boards of Class A/ASU when wearing the uniform to a formal function.  White shirt and black bow tie will be worn with the formal uniform.  For all of the formal uniforms, females must wear skirts.  Only color guard may wear pants.

– The traditional toasts can be with any beverage, but:

– The Toast for the Fallen should always be done with water.

– This is not the time to propose a toast to one’s significant other.

Remember to always be courteous to the speakers (narrators, guest speaker, etc.).  Keep private conversations to a minimum and low level while speakers are addressing the mess.