Like Alec Baldwin, I Make Mistakes

I know most people reading this, probably everyone reading this, has done this at least once in their lives. It seems like the negative comments that are voiced to me from other people outweigh all the beautiful positive comments I get from my friends, family, even strangers because I just can't let some things go. Vice number eight: It's so hard for me to accept criticism. The strangest thing is that I, myself, know I'm not by any means near perfection. But the fact that someone calls my imperfections out is what kills.

I'm trying. I'm really working on not dwelling or obsessing about what someone (who probably just wanted to hurt me) has said to knock me down. It's hard not to hear it like a continuous message in your head. It's painful to really listen to someone's opinion of you.

Some of the most hurtful comments have come from people that are really close to me. I'm assuming they hurt more because I feel like there is more backing associated with the criticism because they know me so well. And I'll more than likely see that person again, sometimes every day, and I'll be reminded each time. I'll be conscious of it and more than likely act differently to possibly change their opinion.

But why? Why would I need to change myself for someone else? These vices I've chosen, while possibly changing someone's opinion of me, are for ME only. I sat down by myself (before I asked for ideas) and easily made a list. I know what I don't like about myself. So I'm not sure why it matters to me what other people don't like.

In the grand scheme, we're all jerks, frauds, insensitive, lonely, disappointments or failures. And the people who choose to berate me aren't any better.

I'm Gonna Make It Afterall

It's really rainy and really cold and it hasn't let up all day. But you know what? I'm not letting it bring me down. Maybe it's the low fat vanilla cappuccino I had or the sassy new umbrella my sisters bought for me that I got to use, but I'm in a pretty great mood.

Sometimes, holding that umbrella, walking from store to store, I think I should have grown up in a big city somewhere. And not unlike Mary Tyler Moore, I should be wearing a trench coat, spinning on the sidewalk. I think if I hadn't screwed up my Junior and Senior year, I could have been a big shot (or medium shot) at a magazine or ad agency.

But this gets into the last post about my negative thinking vice. I realize what and who I am now all has to do with what I once was, good or bad. I'd probably be a very different person and who knows if I'd even like what I might have become. This feels like one of those "thinking out loud posts" which people usually just skim over.

So on to my seventh vice: Bad grooming. I think most new moms fall into this bad habit. I am by no means a prim and proper kind of lady. I can fit all the makeup I have in a bag smaller than my hand. I wear jewelry only on occasion. My legs would probably scratch you. I own three lipsticks. And my eyebrows haven't been done in months. MONTHS! I'm not really the most girly girl.

But I've been paying attention to myself more. There is nothing wrong with exfoliation, or taking makeup off BEFORE you go to bed, or a little blush. I'm not going to say I have more dress pants than jeans but I have started to dress and even feel a bit differently these past few weeks. Call it my own What Not To Wear or Mommy Makeover, but I'm actually starting to take pride in my twenty something, post baby body. It's a slow process, but I think I'm finally stepping out of the Junior's section and becoming a Misses.

They need to make a show called 10 Years OLDER.

I'm Good Enough...I'm Smart Enough...

I haven't been feeling the greatest lately, emotionally. So, my sixth vice I've been working on is negative comments about myself. There really isn't much to discuss here without speaking in a negative manner, but I'm trying to accentuate my positive (like my Sloth from The Goonies impression) and eliminate my negative (which may or may not include my hatred for any picture taken of me that I wasn't ready for). There are of course more things I beat myself up about besides my physical attributes. There are many ways I've disappointed myself over the years, months, weeks, days, minutes. But I really am working on this issue. I'll have setbacks, and those are pretty rough, but I'll pick myself back up again because I know deep down I'd choose myself as a friend and I can't say that much for the Tam 6 years ago.

Minutes

Ever since I upped my plan to unlimited minutes 6 months ago, I feel like I'm always on the phone. I don't even really LIKE being on the phone. I'm usually listening to someone else talk...and talk...and talk. I'm guilty of barely ever ignoring calls though and now that the plasma screen on my phone looks as if someone took a baseball bat to it, I can't exactly always utilize my call waiting. So here it comes. Vice number five: talking on the phone when I could be spending quality time with Britain. I'm not sure how good I've been about this the last week. I know I've talked on the phone more than I should have. But I also know I've made a conscious effort to cut conversations short if Matt or someone else is not around to entertain Brit. So, like swearing, I'm working on it.

Plus I don't want my brain tumor to get any bigger.

Nobody Puts Tammy In A Corner

I wouldn't say I'm a pushover. But then again, I can't really say I'm opinionated either. I guess because I believe people should be how they want to be. I was raised never to judge someone for being different, but to actually embrace the fact that there are differences between myself and someone else.

This brings us to vice number 4: backing down from things that really mean something to me. When someone comes at me with their opinions, I don't exactly know how to respond. Do I respect the fact that they have their opinion? Of course. But they are then pushing their opinion on me, which should be a red flag, and I seem to start understanding where they are coming from and feel like I could possibly relate. Do understand, these are opinions like "I love Debbie Gibson and you should too" and not "Shave your head and wear this sheet".

The real question is, besides extreme opinions, where do I draw the line? When it may compromise my own personal beliefs and morals I guess.

HAHAHAHA: morals.

Censored

I can't say I've stuck to this one but I'm working at it. My third vice, one that's bothered me recently, is swearing, even in writing. I'm trying to give it up completely and for a gal that swears this much, it's pretty flipping impossible. Yes, I've slipped up. Last night, I was getting into bed and dropped the baby monitor. "F*&k!" But Junior year I gave up swearing almost the entire year, so why not at this point in my life when I have even more discipline? Even the words that don't really constitute swearing in my book like J#sus Chr!st or D*mnit have been out of my vocabulary (usually). It's actually helped my anger. And with Britain repeating everything I say these days, I thought it would be a good idea. But my swearing vice, one of the hardest, is still a work in progress. And this probably won't be one of the ones I stick with after the 30 days.

But, I feel like I have to add this little disclaimer. Because I choose to do (or not to do) something has no bearing on whether you are doing (or not doing) something. I could care less if you want to trash your kitchen or enable your coke head brother. That is out of my hands. And I certainly don't want a fight on here about why swearing is fine and children hear it anyway and so forth. I personally would prefer you not swear around my child, but am I going to get angry if you do? Um, probably not since it's your choice really and I can't shield her from everything, nor would I want to. But I can try and create a different environment and pattern from when I was growing up. I promise not to go as far as putting curtains on her for clothes and sing on mountains.

Vote Brit, Or Not

I thought it might be cute if I could get something on the same show Leah Remini stars in and since King Of Queens wouldn't hire me as a writer, this is my only shot. So vote HERE. Or just get a gypsy curse put on you like all the writers on The King Of Queens that are out of a job since the show has been suddenly cancelled.

Is That A Scarf Or Cat Hair?

I got up today, had some whole wheat toast and started cleaning. My second vice is TRYING TO DO THINGS OUTSIDE THE HOUSE WHEN MY KITCHEN FLOOR LOOKS LIKE THAT. I am not sure how many times I've washed my kitchen in the last six months, but it's probable I could count them on one hand. It's not only my kitchen. My whole house has suffered since Britain's been born. I can't even say I don't have the time because, but for 3 months during the summer, I only work part time. There is really no excuse for a pile of cat hair higher than the cats themselves. I think I've just gotten lazy about a lot of things, housework being only one of them.

You Can't Change Anyone But Yourself

I thought I start out my vice challenge with a family member. Although it's not one of the biggest vices on my list, it's still damaging and quite stressful at times. So vice number 1: ENABLING A CERTAIN FAMILY MEMBER AND HER ISSUES. This family member is famous for calling you up, complaining that so and so didn't take her grocery shopping and she has no food to eat. Then when you turn around and offer to take her either food or to get food, she'll act like that's the last thing in the world she needs. "No, no. I can't ask you to do that. You would have to take the baby out. You need to be to work. Enter another excuse here." So I play in to it, almost every time. I argue with her why it wouldn't be any trouble. I tell her I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to do it. I let her tell me no about a dozen times until finally she says yes.

This is tiresome. This is old. I refuse to put up such a silly fight anymore.

Another issue she has is gossip monger. She'll tell me anything and everything about my family members just so she can pull some dirt out of me about other family members. Well, I'm not biting. Not only am I great at keeping secrets, but she's the last person I would tell anything secretive to. She'll get on the phone as soon as I leave and tell Gertie, Mildred, Evelyn and LuAnne every detail I've said, including elaborations. And of course, she's famous for saying, "and that person you are upset with? Well, that's between you and me."

And connected with that last issue, one final issue that I am more than exhausted about: said family member will start fights and cause drama just for kicks. She will let me know exactly what another family member said about me, especially if it's negative.

But because she elaborates, because she treats us like her own personal lab rats, and because I am too old and smart to be playing into all of this, I am done. Starting today and hopefully the rest of my life, I am done. I realize this is her issue, not mine. And I refuse to enable anymore.

Ahh, that felt pretty good.

Hi My Name Is Tammy...

Alright. Today is it...my last day of freedom. I changed my 30 Vices In 30 Days starting date to tomorrow. A) because today I have been writing 30 Posts For 30 days, so that's over and B) because exactly 31 days from tomorrow is my birthday and I'm not being punished on my birthday. I know, it's not really punishment to give up things that are unhealthy for you. It will ulitimately make me stronger, wiser and probably richer.

Maybe one of the scariest things is that I have changed the original rules. I am going to stop doing 30 things starting tomorrow instead of just adding a new one every day. Some of these things are going to be really REALLY hard, but I know I can do it (or stop doing it...whatev).

After the 30 days are up, I hope I don't return to all my old ways but I realize it will be hard to change everything all at once, forever. As long as I'm conciously working on the things that harm me (whether emotionally or physically) I'll be fine.

The first step is admitting you shouldn't be eating 10 Peeps in 1 morning.

Stupid Second Shift

If Matt were here, my couch wouldn't be nearly that huge.

If Matt were here, I would have had help in picking out his deodorant. Gel or solid? Glacier Freeze or Aqua Blast? And he probably would have paid for everything instead of me forking over $85, and all I went in there for, besides deodorant, was toothpaste and allergy medicine.

If Matt were here, I wouldn't have had to get the groceries out of the car in the crazy April snowstorm because he usually has every bag in before I can even get Britain's coat off.

If Matt were here, I could text someone on HIS phone since my phone is all cracked to hell to the point where I don't even know who called me.

If Matt were here, we would have watched Clive Barker's The Plague together because we are the only ones we know who like those cheesy Sci Fi "Atomic Twister" type movies...so much that we put ATOMIC in front of any Sci Fi movie. Try it. Atomic Ants. Atomic Radar Men From The Moon. Atomic Attack Of The Giant Leeches. See.

If Matt were here, I'd have someone to make a sundae for.

If Matt were here, I'd be in my pajamas by now all sleepy and cuddled and wrapped in his arms because he doesn't like all these lights on and prefers to watch sport highlights which bores me yet comforts me at the same time.

If Matt were here, I wouldn't have to get my own ibuprofen and water.

If Matt were here, he'd make me laugh and not because his joke was necessarily funny, but because he tried to make a funny joke.

And by Matt, I mean the guy I'm going to spend the rest of my life with because I've never felt anything like I feel when he's around.

Was She Wearing Clean Underwear?

Since it's Friday the 13th and all, I thought I'd write a little bit about my morbidity. No matter if I'm going down the basement steps to do laundry or driving on the highway or eating really dry chicken, I always question if this is how I'm going to die. How would they find me? Would Britain be in a safe place until they found me? Would Matt cry? What would the paramedics think of my hairy legs?

I guess you could say I've been near death before. I've been in too many car accidents to count. I used to do really stupid things growing up. There was a super high, super long bridge by my house and I would cross underneath it by walking on only a thin, metal scaffolding. I would do this on a weekly basis for thrills. We used to sled ride in the woods, at night, dodging trees when we'd get to them. Some guy in a truck chased me down my deserted road one night until I dove into a bunch of weeds and hid out. So, yeah. I could have died. We all could have if we really think about it.

But for some reason, I'm ALWAYS thinking of ways I could bite it. Perhaps my car would start swerving uncontrollably on black ice and I'd hit the guardrail. I'd walk out to my car after the mall closed and some guy would rob and shoot me, not knowing all I have in my purse is an Eat N Park gift card for 10 smiley bucks and some Chuck E. Cheese coupons. My car breaks down on the highway and some idiot plows into me with their car when I get out for help.

Sometimes I just think of ways I could injure myself. I'd be stuck in a wheelchair after breaking my back. I'd trip on the way into the house and really screw up my face and jaw on the cement steps. I'd step on a knife while hunting for Easter eggs in a crime scene. One of the electric heaters we have in our house catches fire and burns 55% of my body.

You know, the normal stuff people think about.

Gandolph The Gray

So apparently there is a product I've been waiting awhile for now. I'm not talking about Gal Pal, although that's probably just as useful and helpful. I'm talking about OOPS, the hair color remover for when Autumn Sunrise comes out looking like Fire Breathing Dragon. They say you can use this stuff after you've screwed up your hair and color again the SAME DAY! One time, in 10th grade, I came to school with gray hair because I thought "ash blonde" was going to be just a dark blond on my already really light blonde hair. I looked like Minnie Pearl. After freaking out, I called the Clairol Color Experts and they told me I had to wait two to three days before I could dye it again. I was mortified like any other 16 year old would be. What a shitty rule! Come to think of it though, the best color I ever came out with was because I colored twice in one day: a semi-permanent red and then a light blonde to brighten it up. And my hair was just fine, so I don't usually follow the "never color twice in one day" rule if it's really bad.

As Cold As Vice

Alright. That's it! I've had it with this Easter vacation, too much time on my hands thing. I am going to be making quite a few changes in my next batch of "30 in 30". I am going to take 30 of my biggest vices and stop doing them! Starting April 17, I will be listing each vice, one by one, every day and explaining why they are a vice and what I'm going to do to change. That way, by the end of 30 days, I will be doing 30 less things that are harmful or idiotic to myself! I'm tired of most of them and some of them are just too horrible for me or my body and I shouldn't be doing them anyway. I listed 30 today right off the top of my head but I was wondering if I could get some feedback from you. Anonymous is fine if you like but please no name calling.

What do I do that I should really stop doing?

You've Lost .2 Pounds

This may sound sexist, but I think women always have weight on their minds. You don't see a scale in the MEN'S WalMart bathroom. (I think it may even tell our future for an additional quarter.) And you don't see many guys asking if "this makes me look fat". If anything, guys are concerned they aren't big enough and buy that crazy weight gain powder. It's so strange. It's genetic.


I have a scale in my bathroom. It stores my info and tracks my weight loss (or currently, my weight gain). I probably get on it two or three times a day. I strip and weigh myself. I pee and weigh myself. I casually lean forward or backwards thinking the pounds will just disappear. The worst part about the scale is that it even has ounces. It can drive a woman crazy.


Then there are all those weird things you hear about weight loss that all seem to contradict themselves.
*Don't eat past 8 pm
*Eat a low fat snack right before bed
*Eat a big breakfast everyday
*Don't eat one big meal...eat 6 small meals throughout the day
*Drink 8 glasses of water
*Stay away from too much water. It bloats you.

I think the shittiest part about me and my body is that I weigh a lot more than you would think. I'm solid. And about 5 years ago, before I started eating better, I used to be 30 pounds heavier. But, now when I lose a few pounds, it's never where I'd really like to lose it. It's hard to lose Man Back. So the scale is really just bullshit.

"Take your shoes off, Brit. They always add a few ounces."

I say all this and eat alright but I don't exercise for shit, so as Anonymous would say, all we Erieites do is complain. Although I did buy a jogging stroller at the end of summer last year and I intend to use it...just as soon as it hits 40 degrees. So, late May.

Why Stuffed Bunnies Are Kinda Freaky

HAPPY EASTER!

Christmas Easter

What the hell was I thinking when I said yes to my father this morning? He called me up at 10 am when the temperature was a balmy 26 degrees outside (not even taking the wind into account) and asked me if I wanted to take Britain to an Easter egg hunt at Frontier park around 11:30. I look down at my sweatpants and sweatshirt and agreed to meet him there.

I dressed Brit up in the warmest outfit she had and even put gloves on her. I myself put on something half presentable (if you know me, you know I would NEVER walk out of the house with sweatpants on) and grabbed the camera. We trekked over right on time and waited in the freezing cold, the snow numbing our toes, just to collect some tiny plastic eggs. In all seriousness, it was really fun, Brit (ok, I) collected 43 eggs and inside 15 of them was a certificate for a free Dilly Bar from Dairy Queen. SWEET, literally! She was a complete sport about the whole thing and even yelled at Matt when he tried to put her in the car afterwards. "Dare! Dare!", she yelled pointing back to the park. And of course, she ended up on the news. (She knows some people.)

My parents, Britain, Matt and I finished the morning off with hot chocolate and homemade cookies at Romolo's across the street, which was absolutely FILLED with people coming in and out, buying chocolate bunnies and other goodies. While sipping my chai, I grabbed the paper for Matt and what was on the cover but an article on Global Warming. How fitting.

Drunken Ditherings Unedited

I feel a little guilty about this post because A) I've had four glasses of wine and I'm not seeing this screen very clearly and B) my cousins and I are about to play a mad game of Te4xas (tipsy) Hold Em and I feel a bit rushed. So here's what's been floating around in tmy head tonight.

After this weekend, going out two nights in a row, I started remembering back to when I used to go out all the time, evenduring the week. My old roommate Jeannette and I used to go out Thursdays to karakoke and weekends to the dance clubs (the only two in Erie) religiously. I can't beelieve how mahy times I woke up after only 2 hours of sleep and went ot work. Also, how often last night's mascara was the next day's eye liner and how I'd do it for weeks on end. We went out and bumped into the same group of people. We partied till three at The Rook and thenb ended up tat their house afterwoards. I still don't know how I kept up. it went on for about a year or so of constant partying.

Then I got a weird feeling about the whole thing. I called Jeannette one Wednesday befoer our three days of booze and boys and told her I thought we should cool it for awhiel. I ddnt know why. I didnt untderstand what had come over me. But I knew we really shouldn't be doing it anymore. She told me she had already made plans with a few of our on again/off again drinking buddies and she'd get me to come around the next weekend. But she didn't. And she continued to go out for about a month without me, partying it up, filling me in during the week while I pleaded for her to just take it easy.

About three weeks after that, her pregnancy test came back positive and we both were in every weekend, watching Cheaters on Saturday night. I don't regret going out. I was never one to get with guys or anything. But it was really nice to settle down at that time before things might have got even more out of hand. I wouldn't change a damn thing, but I'm glad I stopped when i did.

I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. I'm not sure if I'm disappointed she didn't listen to me, because afterall, she wouldn't have her son, Ryplee. And I would neot be half as close to Jeannette as I am now if we hadn't raised him together the first 4 years of his life.

But damnit if he isn't a hellion and if something ever happens to her I'm stuck with him!

Mrs. Trapini

One of the best teachers I ever had was my first grade teacher, Mrs. Trapini. I had mentioned my Grandma Haskell's death a few posts ago. The weekend after it happened, I went back to school confused and lonely and hadn't really spoken much since I was told. I got to school and my best friend at the time made some shitty remark about how crappy I looked (because I was sad, not because I was wearing my Garfield nightgown to school again) and I snapped. My pigtails flipping back and forth, "Shut up! I don't want to talk to you ever again!" Then I started crying in a corner.

She ran to our teacher. "Something's wrong with Tammy!" Fucking tattletale.

Mrs. Trapini came over to me immediately. She wasn't the smallest woman but I had never known her to raise her voice once. She always wore jumpers and flats and her dark hair was never longer than her ears. We had two first grade teachers and I remember how jealous the other students were that they didn't have her for a teacher. She did fun things such as when she'd turn out the lights and we'd shine flashlights while we played musical chairs. She'd bring in pets. She even took us outside on the lawn when it was nice out to do our math work. But that day that I came in and had my first (of many) mental breakdowns, she did the best thing she'd ever done.

I explained to her what had happened, how I didn't know if my Grandma Haskell was coming back and didn't understand why she hadn't said goodbye. She gave me the greatest hug, back when teachers could touch their students without question. Then, like a rock star, she called down to the library on the in-room phone for a book. She gathered the class in a circle and threw out the curriculum for that morning. When I went to sit down, she told me my seat was on her lap. A helper from the library came in and delivered a book to Mrs. Trapini. And she sat down, I perched on her lap like a princess, my classmates looking on in wonder and she started the story.

It was about a little boy that loved his puppy more than anything in the world. The little boy didn't think he'd ever be without his little dog. And then the dog was hit by a car (or something else had caused it's death) and how sad the boy felt and that it was okay. The story went on to explain how the little puppy would always be with the little boy, even if the puppy wasn't alive anymore.

I don't remember much about my childhood. But I remember that day like it just happened last week. It meant so much to me that she took the time out of our day to explain to me what death really meant when no one else would. I wasn't scared anymore. I didn't cry the rest of the day. And my friend and I played at recess.

And Moses Said...

So, I'm watching The Black Donnellys last night and a commercial comes on for the new horror/suspense/psychological thriller, The Reaping. It's looking alright, all the seven signs are showing up. THEN, she gets all hungry for breakfast and cracks open a YOLKLESS EGG, like the one I cracked open a few months ago.

We can conclude a few things:

*I will see this movie.
*I will not see Disturbia over this movie, even though Shai LaBeouf was conned into starring in it and the website is pretty fucking cool.
*Hilary Swank actually eats eggs?! (although only yolkless, which explains a lot)
*I am obviously a prophet.

Dreaming My Dreams With You

I've talked to Kristen about this on too many occasions. Why is it that when i dream something about someone that doesn't put them in the best light, I'm actually pissed off enough when I awake to the extent I'd call off a wedding that's only 130 days away? What scares me the most, I think, is just how vivid our dreams can be, to the point where I'm asking myself, "Did that actually happen?".

In many aspects, I hate that I dream. It's like a whole other side of myself that either doesn't exist but in my sleep or I just pretend it doesn't. I don't have control over my jealousy, insecurity, desire, hatred or fears. There are issues I wouldn't even realize I had if it weren't for my dreams.

I've cheated a few more than a few times. I've broken some one's neck. Britain's died. I've had twins, triplets, and even a spoon for a baby. I've been fired so many times, I'm still surprised it isn't reality. I've seen my Grandma Haskell in my dream, had an entire conversation with her actually, and she had died the day before which no one had explained to me because I was too young. I've actually smelled, tasted or felt in my dreams. And whether in black and white or in color, my house never looks like my actual house when I'm dreaming.

I'm pretty sure I've never had a reoccurring dream, except for when I was 9 and told my sister, Michelle I dreamt of horses every morning for about a month. I DO have reoccurring themes though. The most prominent theme I dream about is my old houses I grew up in. Sometimes I venture back and go through the house while the current occupants are gone (Goldilock's). Sometimes I'm back there again, hair in pigtails playing with my generic barbies and old friends. Usually, I'm there just floating through all the rooms I miss, all the memories I've lost. Most of the houses I grew up in have been torn down to make room for new subdivisions so I'm assuming it's just a way to stay attached to them the only way I can.

I have a book that claims it can interpret my dreams but I still haven't seen the money I was supposed to get after dreaming about happy babies and hair barrettes.

It seems to go in spurts. I'll go weeks, months even, without one dream. (I realize we ALWAYS dream at night, we just don't always remember we do.) And then I'll dream nonstop for a week or two at a time. When I dream, it seems to be related to when I'm getting a good night's sleep. I'm glad to be sleeping well again, but some of these dreams I'd trade in for bags under my eyes.

What's the weirdest dream you've ever had? What's a recent one you can't get out of your head? And do dream diaries actually work?

I Love Rack N Roll

It was another fun night at Rack N Roll. I am beginning to become a regular, if you call twice in one month "regular". Matt's friends made it out again for a second night and Kristen and Ray were coaxed out to join us. We started off nice and early.

Homoerotic, to say the least.

Josh is falling over. Ray's already had too much. Matt's asleep. Jeremy is hiding in the background. Jared is getting his water on. And Johnathan drove all the way up from Virgina and all he got was this lousy prep boy sandwich.

Ahh, karaoke.
Why is Jeremy always hiding?
This is Ray, probably singing some obscure Smiths song. At least he tips well.

It's almost as if we rented the place out.

Josh, representin'

Matt got out of work early!!


Classic Kristen.

Jared. I screwed up the song for him because I kept making him look away from the TV screen. Sorry!
Jeremy and Johnathon with Jeremy's proud Dad standing by. He's one of the coolest "grown ups" I know.




Kristy also brought her parent. What a Dove commercial.

So damn cute.
That leprechaun has a woody.




Thanks for the support.


Thanks to Kristen and Ray for putting up with Rack N Roll again. They are used to singing every 15 minutes back in Clevy. But I bet your bar tab for 5 hours doesn't ever compare to my measly 20 dollar one!

Old Sensation With New Wave Nation

Matt and I usually don't miss a New Wave Nation show when they come to Erie. One of the best ones was around this time last year. And I still think they are the reason Britain came three weeks early because we saw them at a block party the night before she arrived. I think their speakers shook her placenta free. But this time was still fun for the whole family.

Ken Harding. I think he looks like Tim Robbins.
From left: Jeremy, Christie, Matt, Josh, Johnathan, New Wave Nation lead singer Jay Secrest, Jess and Jared. For some reason they thought they should flip me off. Check out Matt's. I think Dane Cook would be proud.
Randy Horn.
Christie and Tam.




Jeremy. Everyone looks good when wearing those.

I bought these at Victoria's Secret.
Jay Secrest

Jeremy, Matt, Josh, Johnathan and Geoff.
So fine.
Christie and Jeremy with Josh in the background.

So THAT'S why Christie and I thought there were so many hot guys there!

No beer goggles needed!
Josh and Matt. When Matt told him we were getting married, he told us he was too, to a Katelyn. Then when he told Josh we had a baby, he asked if we kept her. HAHAHAHA! Just an example of Josh, I guess.

Geoff is one of my favorites!

This chick was getting married. Oh how I aspire to be a bachelorette at a New Wave Nation show! Maybe someday. I'm not sure about the elephant penis toothbrush though. Oh, what? That's a sippy cup? Um, still no thanks.