I haven’t been feeling so good lately. It’s probably a combination of a few different things. You know, things like returning home from our month long vacation, work stress, marriage stress, upcoming holiday stress, church responsibilities, my upcoming (fourth!) colonoscopy, Babboo’s new school…..blah, blah, blah…..

Stop talking Isabel.

Can I be honest here?

Okay, it’s the damn weather. I hate that I haven’t seen the sun in months weeks days. I’m cold all the time. I’m stuck in a office cubicle with horrible florescent lighting. I wake up in the dark and go home in the dark. I’m just feeling myself lately. Add all the other issues on top of my need for a little vitamin D and you get a very unhappy Isabel.

I’ve been dealing with these dreary feelings in the best and only way I know how. I’ve been self medicating.

It seems the only things that keep me going lately are Coke Zero (this stuff is awesome), documenting my daily work attire for the interweb, copious amounts of rice crispy treats, watching season two of “Dexter” on The King’s iPod, and buying new patio furniture at ridiculously low end of season prices at the local outlet mall.

Dreaming of being able to use the new furniture on our new deck NEXT YEAR makes me giddy with anticipation. Of course it’s about 350 days before I’ll get the chance to use them. But still, knowing the sun will shine again helps. A little.

Okay, this only helps a teeny tiny bit. In fact, come to think of it, this actually might be worse. Seeing the patio furniture sitting in our garage just mocking me every time I come home from work is pretty miserable.

Music also seems to be a way for me to self medicate. I was fortunate enough to attend my third Old 97’s concert of the summer the night before we left for our vacation to Europe. Not only was this an Old 97’s concert, but it was a secret concert. They were billed under a secret name and only true fans knew about the show. (True Old 97’s fan = ME!) I went to the concert alone since someone needed to stay home with Babboo. Thankfully I was recognized by a lovely pregnant lady (hi Sarah!) from the internet who so graciously let me hang out with her and her husband for the duration of the show. I eventually decided to forgo trying to get a good picture of Rhett Miller and not just some dude’s head and just enjoy the freakin’ show already.

It may have been over a month ago, but the thought of seeing another Old 97’s show still has me thrilled.

And although my bestest friend May doesn’t know the full extent of my inner dreariness she has helped to make me feel a little bit of sunshine with the thoughtful mix CD she sent me last week. It isn’t just the music on the CD that makes me happy, it’s the fact that I know May loves me and misses me just as much as I miss her. (Curse you Reno, Nevada.)

Although I do have to admit, the music on the “I miss Isabel so I made her a mix” CD is pretty darn awesome. I had forgotten how much I loved Camera Obscure. And I’ve long been a fan of Mates of State since seeing them live a few years ago. I’ve become even more of a fan since I recently found out they have a blog about touring with their two little girls.

So thanks to May for allowing a little bit of musical sunshine to enter into my cubicle each and every day. I don’t think you know how much this means to me.

And don’t worry, appointments have been made with real live doctors and actual medicinal help will be shortly administered to aid in the lack of sunshine in my life. In the mean time I’m going to try to find happiness anyway I can.

So tell me, how do you self-medicate?

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Did you see me over at Alpha Mom this week?!  If you missed it head over to read How to Make Dinner with a Toddler Under Foot (in five easy steps).

The Thursday of every month here in Seattle is First Thursday. This means that all the museums are FREE. The art galleries also premier their new pieces and stay open late serving wine and cheese. For most people it’s an excuse to stay in the city after work and look at the new art. Typically you see people in black turtle necks with berets and skinny jeans walking from gallery to gallery while smocking Clove cigarettes.

Okay, they don’t all look like a beatnik, but you get my drift.

Back before we moved into the new house and were living in a high rise apartment in downtown Seattle, we used to frequent First Thursday. This was much easier when Babboo was younger and not able to reach the canvas on the wall. From time to time we would even meet friends at the Seattle Art Museum and take advantage of the awesome Happy Hour menu at the Museums restaurant (that place is awesome, by the way).

When we moved into the new house we learned that our community also hosted a First Thursday, or sorts. Sure there was no swanky Seattle Art Museum to attend or any official art galleries, but there were some cool jewelry stores and real estate agencies that showcased local art for the event.

Plus, it’s a good excuse to get out of the house and be able to be apart of something cooler then cleaning bathrooms and going dishes. It’s always makes me feel like less of an Old Lady when I can say, “Oh we went to First Thursday last night” to my coworkers on Friday morning.

As far as I knew only the art museums were free on First Thursday. But guess what? It’s not just about art anymore. The Museum of Flight is also free as is the Experience Music Project. Holy crap, score!

Last week I went with the youth from my church congregation to the Experience Music Project, or just the EMP, if you’re from around here. I had been to the EMP years ago after someone gave us tickets for a wedding present, but that was a long time ago.

The King and also attended a special night with Rhett Miller, lead singer of the Old 97’s, at the EMP weeks before Babboo was born. This was something we bought tickets for without knowing what exactly we were buying tickets for. That event ended up being very, very cool. (But also hard for a very, very pregnant woman to sit through without multiple trips to the potty.) Anyway, The King and I had been able to sit in the audience while an interview with the lovely Mr. Rhett Miller was recorded for the EMP’s archives.

So last week I returned to the EMP. Not much seemed to have changed since the first time I toured it all those years ago. Except this time they had a wall documenting all of the recorded interviews they’ve done for their Music Archives.

You’ll never believe whose name I found.

Yes, I forced one of the 12 year old girls from church to take my picture.  Yes, I looked like an idiot.  Yes, none of the teenagers knew who Rhett Miller was.  And yes, I proceeded to inform them.

(Yes, I am a nerd.)

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Check out my latest post over at SeattleMomBlogs where I discuss my commute hurting my heart.

The great interweb pilgrimage to San Francisco begins today. And while I chose to not attend this year, I’m still feeling a little pang of regret for not booking a flight. Instead of wallowing in the sadness of missed friends and parties (and maybe celebrities?), let’s instead talk about The King’s National Nude Day (NND) proposal.

What is National Nude Day, you ask?

Well, you can probably deduce that it’s a day where people are nude.

You’re right, nudity is involved.

You can also probably deduce that it’s a National thing.

Okay, it’s really not. It’s more of a world wide holiday then just an American holiday. But National Nude Day sounds better then World Wide Nude Day. Plus, I’m not sure how it would translate into every single language. So we’re sticking with National in this instance.

So what are the specifics of this proposed National Nude Day?

Well, head over to AndSoSheBlogs to read my guest post which offers up more information about National Nude Day. And join the discussion as how you’d present yourself on this very special occasion.

For the record, I’d probably choose to wear the shoes I’m wearing today on the next National Nude Day:

And, of course, a little glitter.

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Don’t forget to check out today’s episode of “Fresh Air” on NPR.  Dude, Rhett Miller (aka: The Serial Ladykiller) is Terry Gross’ guest.  You know I’m going to be listening in.  (Apparently it will be online at 3:00 p.m. ET.)

I remember, years ago, when a certain “diet pill” was on the market. It seemed like every adult in my small town was on it. I watched as all the customers at the convenient store (yes, that’s what we called it) I worked at literally shrunk before my eyes. I remember this one specific woman who was losing weight at a very fast (and very unhealthy) rate. Every week she’d walk into the store wearing a new outfit, showing off more of her thinning frame then the week before. You could see how happy she was by the new spring in her step and the sparkle in her eyes. She loved being thinner. She became more talkative and outspoken. She started to flirt with the male customers.

I was thrilled to see how being a smaller size made this woman seem to love life so much more. I imagined what it must be like to be her and enjoying herself for the first time in maybe twenty years. I was young back then and didn’t truly understand the pressures of marriage, kids, and just life in general. I also didn’t understand the feeling of being older and not being content with how you looked on the outside.

All I saw was that she was happier. And much more confident.
I remember thinking that instead of some magic diet pill someone should invent a pill that gave you self confidence. It wasn’t being thinner that made people happy, it was just the confidence that made them happier.

At least that was my perception.

It’s funny what a little confidence can do.

I really do fine it interesting that somebody hasn’t invented a pill form of confidence yet. Dude, get on it.

And it’s funny what people gain their confidence from.

Alcohol is often referred to as liquid confidence, right? I imagine that’s one big reason why people drink in social circumstances. If I was a drinker, you know I’d be drinking any time I had to go out in public or had to be around people at all.

(By the sounds of that last paragraph, it’s a darn good thing I don’t drink.)

(Thank you, Jesus, for helping me not be a [confident] lush.)

I think I gain my own dose of confidence when I’m dealing with something I’m comfortable with. Like if I’m in charge of a certain project at work and I know the ins and out of the project, then I’m all about rocking my confidence. If I’m in a room full of people that love TV and want to talk about TV…dude, I’m the most confident person in the room.

It’s when I find myself surrounded by people that like to camp. Or mountain bike. Or go on hikes. Or run races. Yeah, I’m the one over in the corner being all nervous and crap.

So not confident with that subject matter.

I’m confident with public speaking. But only when I’ve been given ample time to prepare what I’m speaking about. And as long as I like the topic. (Yeah, like the one time I was asked to speak in church about the Reformation. Um yeah, I know nothing on the subject.)

I’m confident with my Weight Watcher chocolate chip cookie making skills. So much so that I entered a cookie backing contest at work last month. (I didn’t win. The contest was fixed. I’m just saying.)

I’m confident with my knowledge of all things Rhett Miller and Old 97’s.  Oh yes, those topics give me confidence.  (But not enough to make me confident in Rhett’s presence.)

I guess as I get older I gain more confidence in myself. Or rather, I’ve learned to not put myself in situations where I’m all wobbly and speak incoherently about subjects I know nothing about. Pretty much I steer clear of REI and people that like to hike in their spare time.

(Well, except for my bestest friend from high school and her damn hippie husband.) (I heart them.)

That doesn’t leave me much, I guess.  It just means I’m stuck only being confident when I’m speaking publicly at work, about Rhett Miller and television, while serving chocolate chip cookies.

Holy crap.  I suck.

So tell me, what would you do if you had a prescription for Confidence, in a pill form?

Call me a nerd (NERD!), but I love going to Canada and being all “we’re in another country right now”. I mean, we are in another country, but dude, we’re only a few hours away. And Canadians still speak the same language.

(Although they do use different money, so that’s kinda cool.)

Hey look at me, I’m in another country!

And look, we’re in Canada without our kid to mess up our lovely hotel room! (The lovely hotel room that we got for cheap on priceline! This room typically goes for well over $200.)

In case you aren’t sure what we were doing up in Canada for One Night Only, let me show you:

We were rocking out.

Holy crap, after over three long years, my all time favorite band, the Old 97’s are finally back on tour. Being as The King and I are such huge fans, we had long ago promised that we would see every show we could.

And so last Friday afternoon, we left work early, dropped Babboo off at The King’s sisters house and headed for the border with our concert tickets and passports in hand.

The show was scheduled to start super early. As in 7:00 early. Apparently Vancouver has some sort of curfew where the bands have to be done and off the stage by 10:00 PM! Dude, that is early.

With that in mind, The King and I arrived at Richard’s on Richards in time to catch most the opening act, Hayes Carll, who hails from Texas.

Get this, Hayes Carll was totally was awesome. While I admit that, on paper, his type of music wouldn’t appeal to me-I throughly enjoyed his set. As did The King.

But then, da-da-dum, Rhett and the rest of the band took the stage.

And then I died.

Rhett Miller always begins his sets with a clean, crisp shirt. (He also always looks super dreamy. Dreamy is the best word to describe him.)

The Old 97’s started with a song from their new album, “Blame It On Gravity”, and then just kept up the magic with “Barrier Reef” which is one of my all time favorite songs in the history of music. (I even took a little video of them. You can watch it HERE.) The King and I were both excited when Murry Hammond, the bass player, sang the fourth song. Listening to Murry is always a treat.

As per usual, as the night progressed, so did the sweat on Rhett’s shirt.

I’m not sure what to make of the Vancouver show. It was super small. Like maybe only 300 people. And I’m not 100% sure that most of the crowd were that big of fans of the band either. I sort of got the feeling that a lot of them were there because they heard a band from Texas was playing.

I saw loads of actual cowboy boots. And some line dancing.

And, surprisingly, a lot of gay men.

(Which makes sense since Rhett is so dreamy. But still, it surprised me. I’m just saying.)

Since the show was so small the Old 97’s used the night to try out some new things. They played “Here’s to the Halcyon” (from the new album) and admitted they had never played it together before. Of course they rocked it. (I like the new album more and more each time I listen to it.)

The concert flew by. Maybe it was because it was so early in the night. Maybe it was just because The King and I were having a good time. (Is there where I tell you that the guy standing next to The King kept farting during the entire concert? Yeah, it was bad and almost ruined his night. Almost.)

I can’t speak for Rhett, but I think he and I made eye contact a few times. (Rhett, if you’re reading this, did we make eye contact?) Although he mostly had his eyes on the cute college girls up on the balcony.

As promised, the Old 97’s exited the stage by 10:00. Thankfully they came out for one last encore and said they had been informed backstage that they didn’t have to leave after all.

And so they played a few more songs. Naturally “Timebomb” was the last song. And it was heavenly.

We headed out of the show a little too fast for my liking. I brought my CD and a sharpie to the show in hopes of getting the band to sign it. The King told me stuff like that embarrasses him. So instead we just headed to our car. Hoping it was still here. (We’ve noticed that Vancouver parking lots have this weird thing where homeless people ask you to pay them extra to “watch” your car while it’s parked in the pay lot. Which we take to mean “if you don’t pay me, I might do something to your car.” So we pay.)

(Our car was fine.)

We woke up early on Saturday and realized how much we were missing our little guy. We got up and headed out early enough, hoping to miss most of the wait at the border crossing.

Um yeah, we didn’t miss the traffic. We had almost a two hour wait at the border. Which meant we had plenty of time to waste by taking pictures of us together in the car.

You know, just hanging out together. And what not.

I tried to get a picture of the Peace Arch through our sunroof. But instead I got a picture of both the Peace Arch and our roof rack.

Awesome.

(I am available for hire for all your photography needs, just let me know. I’m cheap. And also, not very good.)

I was able to spend the majority of the time in the car preparing my Father’s Day sermon for church the next day. (It rocked, in case you were wondering.) It was good to have that said and done with. And with time to spare. Phew.

We arrived back in Seattle in time to pick up our kid before who he forgot exactly who Mommy and Daddy were. Thankfully Babboo had a good time at his first ever sleep over with his cousins and didn’t want to leave their much bigger and toy-filled house.

But whatever, we had to get home and change to go to my cousin’s wedding.

The run down of my little cousin’s wedding is this:

• Girls look pretty in wedding dresses
• Boys look nice in suits
• My kid likes to run in circles
• And he likes to eat tacos and drink soda
• Mexican food should be served at all parties
• I shouldn’t have a cousin old enough to be married
• I am old

We then raced home in time to pick up our first-ever-teenage-babysitter, change into our party clothes, put Babboo to bed and head out for the Second Night of Awesomeness in our Weekend of Awesomeness.

That’s right people, we saw the Old 97’s again.

Oh yes, more of this:

And this:

There was even a little more of this:

Which is something we haven’t really had much of in the past two years of child-rearing and house-building (respectively).

Hayes Carll opened the show again in Seattle. And he was great, again. But the little treat about the Seattle show was the other opening act, I Love Math. I Love Math is a fun little band that plays fun little songs. They also share the same drummer, Philip Peeples, with the Old 97’s. Although I admit most of the members of I Love Math looked like they couldn’t be a day over 17. Dude, do their moms know they’re on tour?

The Seattle show was totally different from the Vancouver show. While they were much tamer in Canada, they totally rocked the (completely packed) house in Seattle. The Showbox was full of fans. And while that makes for an exciting show, it also makes for a show full of d*uche bags and idiots. Seriously, I paid money to hear the Old 97’s sing, not to hear the d*uche bag behind me sing.

(I’m all for singing along to a band you like. But dude, you don’t have to scream along. Just mouth the words. And that’s only if you have to.)

And while wearing 3 inch heels two nights in a row played havoc on my poor feet, it was worth it to see the Old 97’s two freakin’ nights in a row.

(Check out my video that proves how hard this band rocks.)

The Old 97’s played rocked for quite a long time. They had three (!!) encores and I could have danced through three more. But I’m not sure our babysitter would have liked that. She was already out way past her bed time.

And, let’s be honest, it was way past my bedtime too.

So tell me, have I finally convinced any of you to give the Old 97’s a listen yet? I’ve only been begging y’all to give them a try for three years. Download one of their songs. Stat.

And then to top it all off it’s my mom and brother’s birthdays. And, holy crap, is this Sunday Father’s Day?! Oh and I am giving the sermon in church this Sunday, which apparently, is also Father’s Day?! And dude, I have to come up with something meaningful to say about Father’s Day and Jesus? But also, I don’t want to offend anyone that had a bad father. Or no father. And crap, when am I going to have time to get that written? And why does my boss keep throwing more work at me? And really, this project has to be done by tomorrow? But I have a hair appointment tomorrow. And a Weight Watchers meeting.

And a dentist appointment today.

And I need to return our cable box this week.

And visit some new daycares closer to the new house.

And we failed our final electrical inspection yesterday.

Plus The King’s mom is having that (minor!) surgery tomorrow. And it’s my cousins wedding this Saturday. And I need to buy a gift. And buy Babboo some new shoes to go with his new tuxedo (thanks Durga! You look great, by the way!) and holy crap….can I just die yet?

And I just got the second book in the Twilight series that I’m dying to start. (Dying!)

The light at the end of the tunnel week?

Friday night will be spent, alone, in a hotel room (that I got for a sweet deal!) with The King. In Vancouver, Canada.

And we’ll be seeing the Old 97’s in concert.

(If I don’t get my picture taken with Rhett this time, I may just have to settle with my lame photoshop skillz.)

And then Saturday night? Yeah, we’re seeing the Old 97’s (again!) in Seattle.

Holy crap. I just have to make it through all this other stuff (see above).

And then, the party will begin.

So tell me, what crazy things do you have going on this week? And um, if it’s not too much of a bother, can you return my cable box for me?

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Yes, my latest New Thing involves the new house. And a toilet. And a video. You got a problem with that?