Soulful Saturday - The Cranberries

I am not exactly sure why fall weather makes me want to relive my high school days. Maybe it is because it is technically 'back to school' season or something. Could be. Ah well, here I am, up WAY past what should have been my bedtime, singing along to youtube videos of forgotten songs that once brought out teenaged angst. When I was in high school (oh my God, I just totally sounded like the old lady in the neighborhood IN MY OWN HEAD when I read that sentence back... What have I become?!) Back in the olden golden days of the mid 90s, the music was full of rebellion. Grunge was king of the airwaves, there was anger, combat boots and flannel shirts. Marry that with teenage hormones and there you have it, Hot, Black and Bitter, the high school years! One of the bands that regularly made it onto my mix tapes, and in heavy rotation were The Cranberries. Hauntingly beautiful sounds that you would not normally think would come out of a human... and notes that you should TOTALLY NOT TRY to emulate, but I do... every time. Hey, it is good singing... check it out.

Dreams

 


 Zombie


 


 I Still Do


 


Ode To My Family

Dear Gym Patrons

As a person who doesn't only go to the gym in January, let me just say: I hate January. The resolutions, the crowds, the (wrong) use of the equipment, the BAD ASS kids. It is enough to make people lose their ever-loving minds within the confines of the YMCA. I can put up with some ridiculousness… without throwing a *huge* fit, while still making it obvious that I am not pleased. Listen: when I tell you that TODAY made me want to stand on the front desk and start cherry picking people to point out their bad behavior… Whoa. It is sincerely a miracle that I was able to make it out of there with my wits intact. The experience made me come home and type out this open letter to the patrons of my gym, so there is that. Tell me if you can relate to my sentiments: 

Dear children at the gym: Listen, there is day care here. If you are not a preteen- get you little monkey ass off the bikes. I am not your parent and I am not going to say something nice like "oh, Billy, you need to share the equipment." Naw, Billy. Move your punk ass out of the way. I don't know if you have escaped the protective walls of the children's center, but if I have to lead you bubble head back over there, we are going to have problems. If you can't reach the arm controls on the elliptical machine, why is our punk ass on it? Why aren't you with your mama? Matter of fact, point her out to me, Billy. Clearly, I need to have a heart to heart with her. 

Dear New Year Resolution Crowd: I get it. New Year, New You. Work it!! Just don't work your ass over here to me. I tried to prep for your group. I make a plan of what I need to do in the gym and for the month of January, I avoid classes because I have seen the fallout of one too many people in boot camp class. I plan around you because I know it won't be long before the regulars will be back to our little routine, without having to work around you. And please stop confusing me with the trainers around here-- I don't have on a Y shirt. If you don't know how to use something, don't ask me… pay for some personal training lessons and get.out.of.my.way.

Dear teenagers: Even with my headphones on I can hear you talking about Susie and Johnny kissing at school or about the new One Direction song/video and who Harry is dating. Guess what? No one cares. Move your ass from in front of my locker. Harry Styles does not know you, silly bird. And if he were dating that Kardashian girl, you wouldn't have a say-- let's move this convo to the side of the locker room, please. I know that you think you have earth shattering news, but unless you are about to tell me that I cannot leave the Y because The Rock is headed in here to sweep me off my feet, like the last scene to An Officer and a Gentleman, I can do without the theatrics. 

Dear grunting guys: Just stop it. Hit the weights, fine. Grunting noises like you are passing a kidney stone? Not fine. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. 

Dear older ladies getting ready for (or after) water aerobics: Hello, how you doing? I know that it is all the rage to love your body and I am all for that. Just do me a favor: while you are embracing your new found love for your body, especially when you are peeling off your wet bathing suit… please, please, turn the other way. We all have wrinkles, dimples and stray hairs that the razor has missed, HOWEVER… I don't want to see full on bush when I am getting dressed. You love your body? Cool. I am so proud of you. But you are a total stranger and I have now seen more of you than I have seen of some of my CLOSEST friends and I might be scarred by the fact that you are vying for the world's hairiest woman title. I need you to realize that looking like a 70s porn star is all good-- for the privacy of your own home and far away from me in the locker room. 

Until next time, y'all.

The Problem with Bullies

Last week, I watched the heartbreaking video that is below. I watched it because after this video was placed on YouTube; after this 15 year old girl poured out her heart in this silent film; after the bullying continued, Amanda Todd, the featured Canadian teenager, committed suicide to quiet the bullies that ran her life. Fifteen years old... she literally had the rest of her whole life, the best times of her life, ahead of her. She hadn't experience falling in love, high school graduation, college, marriage, her first real job, moving out of her parents' house, making her first car payment... you know those huge milestones. She won't ever get to see her 21st birthday or kiss her parents again.

 The problem with bullies is: no one thinks there is a problem until another child dies. No one screams until the bad behavior leads to a death of an innocent child. And even after the death of a child; a child who will miss out on all the things that we all look forward to, the comments on the video are inexcusable. People are so sensitive about things that they think affect them, but once they think a situation doesn't affect them, the compassion that any human SHOULD have, is gone. Our teenage years should not be about Survival of the Fittest... that is what adult life is for. Parents should not allow their children to torment kids that don't fit in. Children should be a little more gracious with each other... and you know where they would get that? Their parents.

 My thought is this: we all hold a hand in this and stories like Amanda Todd. We have all called someone out of their name, or tried to make their day harder than it needs to be. We have all made someone cry or feel bad. We have all been responsible for making at least one person feel less important, at some point in our lives and it in now everyones responsibility to make that portion of the "growing up" experience stop. It is unnecessary and only leads to more pain. Hurt people- at some point- hurt people. Nip the cycle in the bud. Talk to your children. Be Proactive.