Let's say there's this girl who comes home from a foreign country, a country like, oh, I don't know....Korea. Let's say this girl hasn't driven a car for two years and didn't really have a squeaky-clean accident record before she left the United States...(maybe she was even ranked as the 5th worse driver in Utah by an independent polling authority.) Let's just say this girl gets insurance right when she returns to America and then has two at-fault accidents within a 10 month period...like oh, I don't know...backing into an audi in the driveway and just for fun, let's say she rear-ended a brand new jeep because she was trying to kill a spider that was threatening her life. (hypothetically of course).
What do YOU think would happen to this hypothetical person's insurance premium at the next insurance review?
Well, you're wrong.
There has been a hypothetical CHRISTMAS MIRACLE. I am in love with my insurance company (until they hypothetically discover their mistake).
Also in the miracle department- I have a muscle in my shoulder. Ivan, my personal trainer helped me discover it and along with all my spinning and squatting and crunching, I'm also starting to see other kinds of miracle muscles. I think the obvious next step for me is anabolic steriods. Stop me if I'm wrong about this.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Songwriting
I'm not sure why, but I'm out of tricks. Everything sounds the same. I need other musicians to collaborate with and I haven't done a thing about it since I got to DC. I've written 1 song since Korea (since I'm losing everything but my blog these days, here are the lyrics for posterity).
The Middle
Hey, let's meet in the middle
we'll drive this car through amber waves of grain
we'll take it through Wichita, Omaha, Madison
St. Cloud, Louisville, Bloomington
And we'll see,
if we even believe
in the middle.
They say it's nicer in the middle
there's never a gray cloud in the wide open skies
Everyone's corn fed, in their beds by nine o'clock
Warm hearts, open doors, ready to stop
for two strangers
stuck on the side
in the middle
Does it really exist
beyond the myth
I don't know
But I'll never know
If I never go
To the middle.
So hey, meet me in the middle
Me with my overkill and you with your thoughts
We'll drive them around the world, over hills, underground
Over land, over seas until we've found what could be,
common ground
commond ground
in the middle.
I've written half a song tentatively called Love + Science
But I want to do more. I blame it on my busted guitar. I blame it on getting ready for grad school. I blame it on heartache (which you'd THINK could make things easier in the confessional songwriting category, but, no.) I blame it on everything but what it really is which is laziness and lack of drive. And then I listen to other musicians who are doing things and I think, I could be doing things. Maybe I should be doing things. Blah. Blah. Blah. I guess this is me, calling myself out on my blog. Write more, NB. Play more, NB. Collaborate more, NB. Ok. fine.
The Middle
Hey, let's meet in the middle
we'll drive this car through amber waves of grain
we'll take it through Wichita, Omaha, Madison
St. Cloud, Louisville, Bloomington
And we'll see,
if we even believe
in the middle.
They say it's nicer in the middle
there's never a gray cloud in the wide open skies
Everyone's corn fed, in their beds by nine o'clock
Warm hearts, open doors, ready to stop
for two strangers
stuck on the side
in the middle
Does it really exist
beyond the myth
I don't know
But I'll never know
If I never go
To the middle.
So hey, meet me in the middle
Me with my overkill and you with your thoughts
We'll drive them around the world, over hills, underground
Over land, over seas until we've found what could be,
common ground
commond ground
in the middle.
I've written half a song tentatively called Love + Science
But I want to do more. I blame it on my busted guitar. I blame it on getting ready for grad school. I blame it on heartache (which you'd THINK could make things easier in the confessional songwriting category, but, no.) I blame it on everything but what it really is which is laziness and lack of drive. And then I listen to other musicians who are doing things and I think, I could be doing things. Maybe I should be doing things. Blah. Blah. Blah. I guess this is me, calling myself out on my blog. Write more, NB. Play more, NB. Collaborate more, NB. Ok. fine.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Blue Ray and Jolene
Meet Ray.
Get it?
Blue Ray.
Named after Ray LaMontagne because what's more blue than Ray?
It's also apropos because my GPS is named Jolene thanks to SB who was once so upset by the sheer number of songs written about women with names ending in ENE that I think he might have burst a blood vessel. In the song of the same name (Jolene, in case you forgot by the time I actually finished my run on sentence) by Mr. LaMontagne, Ray sings, "Jolene...I ain't about to go straight...it's too late" which is what my car often sings to the GPS when I refuse to listen to her crazy garbled directionals.
Ray has a few features that the Go-Cart didn't even know existed. There are these buttons that you push and the windows go UP AND DOWN all by themselves!!!! There's a little hole where I can plug in The Best iPod Ever. And here's another surprise: Oh no, the sun is shining in my eyes! What do I do????? (NB pushes a button and a little trap door opens revealing SUNGLASSES hidden in the trap door) Amazing. Cruise control. Alloy wheels. And best of all- four very grown up doors where people who ride in Ray can just GET IN without having to push, pull and duck through the front door. I almost don't know how to breathe when I'm cruise controlling down the highway.
The most important thing for you to remember about Ray is that I did it all by mineself!! I bought this car from a dealership. I did lots of research. I read lots of reviews. I talked to many a dealer and acted appropriately paranoid (so much so that one pushy dealer asked condescendingly, "is this your first car, honey?") There were a few moments of angst in which I was angry that I had been thrust into the car buying market to fend for myself among the sharks and creepies. But in the end, it was thoroughly empowering to buy a car. A few favorite phrases that I cultivated in my newly empowered state?
NB: George. I like you. You seem like a good guy and have a great sense of humor. I want to buy a car from you. I know I'm going to buy a nissan versa today. I can either buy it from you, or I can drive to Maryland and buy it from them. Don't make me go to Maryland, George.
NB: 6% apr is not good enough. You want me to drive out the door with this car today? Do better.
NB: Is this car spider proof?
Road Trip to Provo, anyone???
Get it? Blue Ray.
Named after Ray LaMontagne because what's more blue than Ray?
It's also apropos because my GPS is named Jolene thanks to SB who was once so upset by the sheer number of songs written about women with names ending in ENE that I think he might have burst a blood vessel. In the song of the same name (Jolene, in case you forgot by the time I actually finished my run on sentence) by Mr. LaMontagne, Ray sings, "Jolene...I ain't about to go straight...it's too late" which is what my car often sings to the GPS when I refuse to listen to her crazy garbled directionals.
Ray has a few features that the Go-Cart didn't even know existed. There are these buttons that you push and the windows go UP AND DOWN all by themselves!!!! There's a little hole where I can plug in The Best iPod Ever. And here's another surprise: Oh no, the sun is shining in my eyes! What do I do????? (NB pushes a button and a little trap door opens revealing SUNGLASSES hidden in the trap door) Amazing. Cruise control. Alloy wheels. And best of all- four very grown up doors where people who ride in Ray can just GET IN without having to push, pull and duck through the front door. I almost don't know how to breathe when I'm cruise controlling down the highway.
The most important thing for you to remember about Ray is that I did it all by mineself!! I bought this car from a dealership. I did lots of research. I read lots of reviews. I talked to many a dealer and acted appropriately paranoid (so much so that one pushy dealer asked condescendingly, "is this your first car, honey?") There were a few moments of angst in which I was angry that I had been thrust into the car buying market to fend for myself among the sharks and creepies. But in the end, it was thoroughly empowering to buy a car. A few favorite phrases that I cultivated in my newly empowered state?
NB: George. I like you. You seem like a good guy and have a great sense of humor. I want to buy a car from you. I know I'm going to buy a nissan versa today. I can either buy it from you, or I can drive to Maryland and buy it from them. Don't make me go to Maryland, George.
NB: 6% apr is not good enough. You want me to drive out the door with this car today? Do better.
NB: Is this car spider proof?
Road Trip to Provo, anyone???
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