i can't wait just like you can't wait / until we're out past familiar gates / those seven words shook the life back in / so let's just run 'til we lose our breath.

jay farrar and jeff tweedy should bury the hatchet and reunite forces.

Posted: Jan 27, 2011 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments

would you take me back north carolina?
would you take me back arkansas?
blissful days still there to remember,
methamphetamine was the final straw.

so i’ve never actually been to arkansas (i don’t think) and i have definitely never done meth (not really into bugging out for days on end and losing all my teeth that i spent far too many youthful years correcting following an expired attachment to my thumb), but i will say that this song is among the top 12. always somewhere in rotation. at least as frequently as iPod shuffle mode feels like playing it.

it makes me want to roll the windows down.

and go to the blue ridge parkway.

which is an appropriate daydream as i sit barricaded in my house under a comical amount of snow.

[okay so barricaded might be a stretch, but i’m taking a day off from walking around waist deep in the white stuff. i debated it all day long and then remembered everything i own is soaking wet anyway.]

farrar, take it away. and while you’re at it, give your buddy tweedy a call. you 2 had a good thing going once upon a time.

<insert perplexed expression>

or don’t call him and just continue throwing daggers at the poster-sized photo of him that you likely have mounted in your garage.

i’m sure he’s doing the same.

<insert additional perplexed expression>


happier times.

and also, perhaps, a little foreshadowing.

ikea should consider paying me for this plug.

Posted: Jan 25, 2011 | Posted by marcy | Labels: 1 comments

when i first moved out of college-living-is-cheap and catapulted myself into an overpriced existence that includes stifling rent figures and utility bills which add up annually to a sticker price of just about enough to send a kiddo to the university of their choice, i did what any rational person would do:

i went to ikea.

ikea is a mecca of reasonably inexpensive furniture that can usually pass as good, and sometimes as great.

but inexpensive comes with a catch. you have to assemble it yourself. putting that shit together is like sailing around cape horn; you have absolutely no idea what you’re getting yourself into, but you can bet your last dollar on the fact that it a’int gonna be fun. or sane.

booze helps. although in the same breath, i can’t honestly suggest cracking so much as a 10-ounce beer during the assembly process because if you have even the hint of a buzz on, all bets are off and you’ll end up with a coat rack instead of a bookcase.

they give you an enormous box of wood (in 14 billion pieces), a tiny piece of paper with 3 illustrations on it, and a midget-size excuse for an allen wrench, and leave you to your own devices.

[helpful hint: don’t attempt this assembly process with a boyfriend. or a girlfriend. you will break up. ikea assembly has been the root cause of many relationship meltdowns worldwide.]

fast forward to completion of the entertainment cabinet unit (or whatever you want to call it, and which is still missing one of its 2 doors . . . a sad reality you will face with absolute certainty when you realize you missed a critical step along the way, but certainly can’t go back and undo the 17 hours of hard labor you just put into your new masterpiece) and the coffee table (which was fairly easy, by ikea standards, to bring to fruition), i had completed furnishing the abode. for the time being.

the coffee table.

ohh the coffee table.

the 22” x 46” surface, home to countless dance parties and other late-night antics.

[and here’s where my endorsement check should roll in]


for the following reasons:

#1: it’s nice looking in a very simplistic no-frills kind of way.

#2: it goes with anything. so when you move, feel free to drag it along to your next digs.

#3: it’s practical – with 6 cubby holes which i suppose are intended for magazines or random stuff you want to hide in there.

#4: it’s as sturdy as one of those thoroughbreds you see in all the budweiser commercials.

#5: it can hold the weight of 4 people at once, maybe more, without so much as a wobble

#6: you can have it situated in your home for many years and it still looks like new, despite the fact that you beat the hell out of it. regularly.

#7: it won’t break your bank and leaves plenty of room in your checking account for other investments such as automobiles or vacations in the tropics.

#8: it’s an excellent platform for serenades and sing-alongs when you feel the need to be on a stage.


dear ikea executives: feel free to contact me directly for your next ad campaign. i am available for public appearances and performances. need me to kiss some babies? sure, why not.

dear everybody else: drop by ikea next time you have an entire free day to spend perusing one of their 9 million square-foot facilities. and another whole free day (or two) to spend putting together stuff that you probably don’t need but might.

you can even buy pots and pans there.

while walking back from buying beer in an unfamiliar small town.

Posted: Jan 22, 2011 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments

this is the one the greatest moments that has ever existed. and i mean ever.


take it to the mattresses.

Posted: Jan 19, 2011 | Posted by marcy | 2 comments

thanks to steve jobs, the belligerent people of apple (whom i typically want to beat over the head with a snow shovel just for being the belligerent people of apple), and the app store, it is actually possible to rant about non-interesting things while lying in bed. in a completely horizontal position. with no computer in sight.

who knew.

verizon subscribers: get excited. you've been holding out this entire time while the rest of us suckers jumped on the wagon, paid unforgivable cancellation fees, and drooled over our iPhones that can bake a cake in space but can't hardly make a phone call to our next door neighbors. and certainly not if it's raining or something.

[i don't blame you. i have perfected the art of dropping calls in the biggest cities on earth. sometimes while climbing an AT&T cellular tower. crying the whole time.]

you are just a few weeks away (God willing, for your sake) from being able to rant, er blog if you so choose, about your own non-interesting things from here:

well, no, you probably can't rant from my bed. but you can certainly rant from yours.

and if you're wondering if that's a blue boa . . .

you bet your ass it is.

- - - - - ->

[but before you get any twisted ideas ••• that came courtesy of erin. also know as one of the best (i really mean worst) people to share a slumber party with. the slumber part of it, anyway. hence the tangled sheets and comforter on the floor. but i do love her. sleepless night and all . . . although this doesn't really explain the boa. nothing does.]

this is what self medicating looks like.

Posted: Jan 16, 2011 | Posted by marcy | Labels: 0 comments


hot toddies.

by definition:

they were believed to help cure the cold and flu, but the American Lung Association now recommends avoiding treating the common cold with alcoholic beverages as they cause dehydration

hey, you know what American Lung Association?? when dayquil, nyquil, and everythingelseinbetweenquil fail to offer any relief, dehydration is the least of my problems.

i say crack the jack and give it a shot.

shakes her head in dismay.

Posted: Jan 12, 2011 | Posted by marcy | Labels: , 2 comments

i am going to get absolutely annihilated for saying this, but i simply can’t resist.


before you rip my head off . . .

#1: i am a southerner. (maybe not by mailing address anymore. but i most certainly am by blood, heart, and soul. and i pay property taxes to the state of north carolina, so there.)

#2: i love all of you.

#3: i remember what it was like to live in a region that went into full.blown.panic.mode. at the first mention of a flurry.

my hometown cancelled the whole world on monday because of the snow. the snow that didn’t even hit ground until it was practically tuesday.

i think they got like 3 inches.

everything is still shut down.

and this is what i have to say about that:



and THIS . . . . well, i just have no words.


i lied . . . i have words.

this is atlanta.

okay, okay so i hear it was a total “snowpacolypse” of sorts (an expression that makes me put my head in my hands . . . and keep them there.)

they are sledding.

WHAT ! ! ! ! !

if i unloaded a 3-pound bag of salt on the ground, it would look like there was more snow than that. i mean, is that double-sled run even fun? not to mention WORTH IT?

y’all need to stick to the things you’re good at like SEC football and crawfish boils and leave this winter stuff to the pros. you’re sort of embarrassing yourselves.

have fun going to school in july.

[i hope the public schools figured out that whole air conditioning phenomenon. you’ll need it.]

p.s. to atlanta: i watch the news frequently enough to know you got a lot more than this picture depicts. i saw the video of the dude ice skating on peachtree (prop for that), and i don’t for a second mean to undermine your conditions . . . but . . . it’s high time to move on.

my brother turns 21 today. but not really.

Posted: Jan 9, 2011 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments

the department of motor vehicles is torturous on a good day.

and on a bad day, it’s really about enough to make you throw yourself through a glass window. before stabbing yourself in the throat. while setting your hair on fire.

but be careful about cursing the DMV. they might just make your day. or year.

if you are my brother.

whose birthday is today.

he was born in 1991.

[which makes him 20. today.]

but the DMV insists he was born in 1990.

[which makes him 21. today.]

despite the fact that there are a number of things like, ohhh i don’t know, BIRTH CERTIFICATES which make it explicitly clear that 1991 is undeniably the year of his birth.

they apparently don’t want to listen.

this might just be the one time in the history of ever that the overabundance of incomprehensible stupidity over there at the DMV equals one solid win for the home team.

happy birthday, little brother.

go to a bar . . . . . . . . . . because you can.


[this encompasses his rejoicing in the DMV fail . . . avec ski goggles.]

i spent an entire evening destroying my brain and now i want it back.

Posted: Jan 7, 2011 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments

i can probably count on two and a half hands the number of nights i have slept in my own bed since the middle of october.

[if there were such a thing as a half a hand, that is. which i guess there is for people who stick their hands in blenders or tree shredders.]

earlier this week, I took an indoor day and never walked outside of my house. not even once. and i am not the least bit ashamed to admit that because it was incredibly productive. filled with the unpacking and rearranging of my life. and an abundance of cleaning.

productivity ended rather abruptly at about 8 o’clock post meridian when an influx of insanity and stupidity streamed through the time warner airwaves and was forced fed down my throat like amoxicillin is for a 2-year old with an ear infection.

dumb tv serves a purpose, but this was just ridiculous.

by 2:30am, i had found myself watching the rebroadcast of an episode of Hoarders which i had already watched only four and a half hours prior.

everything about this scenario is a problem.

january is typically a very still month for me. it’s quiet in a way that is almost uncomfortably comfortable. the weeks and months leading up to it notoriously rival the adrenalin rush induced while swimming with sharks. and.then.it’s.just.still.

which i can appreciate for about one week.

[we’ve just hit that mark.]

in an attempt to avoid another marathon session of Hoarders, i am feeling the tug of putting myself back in planning mode. planning the next excursion. the next roadtrip, perhaps. (although it could be best if i just wait until someone pays me to do that again. gas prices are pretty high.) the next bout of overstimulation. the next excuse to not be still.

I don’t like being still. which makes me eternally grateful that I don’t earn my paycheck from inside the confines of a cubicle . . . not to knock the cubicle, it’s just not for me.

it would be swell if everyone else had january off.

i need to know some more people like adventure bobby who will jump on planes to random places without a whole lot of question because whims are fun.

and angie: it would be oh-so-stellar if southern comfort drive existed a little closer to the eastern seaboard.


he wears it on his sleeve.

Posted: Jan 5, 2011 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments

my brother brian has this rose stem tattoo that has one thorn for every year my father has been living with cancer.

there are currently 11 thorns.


it’s time for him to add another thorn.

a recap of 365.

Posted: Jan 3, 2011 | Posted by marcy | Labels: 2 comments

i have 3 modelos and a half a bottle of champagne in my fridge and neither of those sound all that appealing seeing as though i have enough holiday indulgence running through my veins to enable a reenactment of the fizzy-lifting-drink scene from willy wonka.

minus the old grandpa air-swimming the breast stroke next to me.

we did this whole calendar-turning thing a full year ago. apparently. although i think there’s a pretty good chance the government is behind some mass conspiracy to shave off a week or two (or ten) each year, every year, without us noticing. like mind control. or something. within the bat of an eyelash, we found 2010 on her back and it was time to turn the calendar again.

see, conspiracy.

2010 was, by some accounts, a tough one.

and also a great one.

and sometimes both at the very same time.

there's a lot of it i would write off.

and there's a lot of it i want to live in forever.

there was heartache. the hard kind. the kind that keeps you up at night and strips you down to almost nothing. there were questions asked and never answered. there was uncertainty and bullsh*t and vacancy and a slew of other things that just sucked.

and then there were all those other things that i would put on a permanent loop if i could.

those things i'm keeping.

the other things . . . i'm letting them go.

i welcomed some really great people into my world.

and i said goodbye to some really great people as well.

and that's part of the hard stuff. but it's life. and it happens. and it's okay.

it’s the good stuff of oh-ten that made it a year that i will file under thankyoucanihaveanotheroneplease.

the good stuff included dancing. and a lot of it. sometimes with curtains.


and it included singing. in the kitchen. as has been mentioned before. (sometimes with and sometimes without the assistance of headphones, despite the fact that i have a stereo system which has more speakers involved than i know what to do with or know how to disassemble. which will undoubtedly be a problem when i move.)


there was a lot of time spent in the company of puppies. and i can not emphasize more the importance of this. assuming you don’t have an allergic tendency to k-9s and you don’t occupy the same space as ones that have a relentless and unforgiving bite.



i came to the understanding (and not by myself. i had a lot of help with this one) that some of the best photo ops come from inside bathrooms.



and some of the other greatest moments happen inside the trunk of a car.

[unless, of course, you are in the trunk against your will and have found yourself taking part in some sort of unfortunate mafia solicited activity.]


i spent a tremendous amount of time near water. with my feet at the same level as my hips. which would suggest a reclined position. which is exactly what is supposed to happen when you are near water. unless you are surfing.

[i miss summer.]




i spent a good deal of time moving from one place to the other by means of public transportation. sometimes in uncharted cities. each time studying the accompanying strangers and pretending that i know exactly where they are going and why. this is one of my favorite things to do. you’d be surprised by how much you can learn about someone simply by watching them do nothing.



i spent a lot of time on film sets – sometimes in a cold studio in brooklyn, sometimes on the peak of a mountain in california -- redefining the meaning of a 20-hour work day, reaching new heights of stress and anxiety, playing peacekeeper and mediator between hundreds of people simultaneously, putting out fires i didn’t even know had erupted, fielding copious amounts of impossible and ridiculous demands . . . . . .  and never once forgetting that i have the best job in the world and i am incredibly lucky to be doing the one thing i always wanted to do.



i fell in love with new babies. and fell deeper in love with my friends who had them.

[meet miles and tripp. two of the most perfect things about twenty ten.]


i celebrated. a lot of things.



and i spent thirty-five of the best days of my life traveling across our little country and back again. all the while meeting some of those great new people, adventuring through some of those uncharted towns, creating those memories that will not soon (or ever) leave my photographic memory.

i faced some of my fears and kicked them in the teeth. repeatedly.

i was reminded, time and time again, that the people in my life were not put there by accident.

in life there are no accidents.

i spent the greater part of the year standing in the crossroads of fate.

and fate is a pretty great thing if you take the time to stop and appreciate it.

which I did.