Gyrating biker: best cure for stage fright EVER.

I had the unexpected pleasure of knocking another goal off of my non-bucket list a couple of weeks ago. My friend Mike is in a new band called Decade Four and he offered to help me with #9 - Sing live with a band - no karaoke - in front of actual people. I gladly accepted and told him that I would happily sing with his band under the conditions that I can rehearse with the band at least once. Although I've been singing my entire life, I get major stage fright and I've found that the best way to beat it is large amounts of Jack Daniels and as much preparation as possible, in that order. As their debut rolls around, I realize that we've never had this rehearsal and assume that I will not be singing at this one. I'm ok with this as I was not really ready and, at the time, was taking a brief hiatus from my good friend Jack, his cousin Smirnoff, and their great great grandmother, Chardonnay. That family tree does not lead one to make wise decisions, and by one I mean me. 


Anywho, as I'm talking with the band's drummer, he's all like, "So, you're singing with us tonight!" And I'm like, "NO." He just laughs. I do not. I confirm with Mike that I am indeed not singing. Although he encourages me to, he reluctantly agrees to the suggestion that I sing at their second gig. 


So I relax and enjoy the charm of Chuckie D's, a divey biker bar off of Oleander and the location of Decade Four's first gig. It is a truly special place with an even more special clientele. We found this gem hanging on one of the posts:

It's amazing many of us got served at all, seeing as how we fit several of the criteria sober.

Obviously I wore my most girly, ruffly dress to such an establishment. Could I have tried harder to blend? Sure, but what fun is that?

So we're having a good time, listening to the band, which is excellent, by the way, and all of the sudden I hear Mike say to me, through the microphone, "Sarah, you sure you don't want to sing this one?" I adamantly yell out, "YES. I'M SURE." As crowds tend to do, they turned on me. What's a girl to do when a motley mix of friends, colleagues, and bikers start chanting your name? You suck it up and sing a song. 

I may be smiling, but I'm also devising ways to murder Mike and make it look like an accident. 

Was "Give Me One Reason" by Tracy Chapman about three keys too low for my mid-range voice? Yes. Could anyone actually hear me? Probably not, as the vocals seriously needed to be raised and balanced with the instrumental (Dad the sound engineer knows what I'm talking about). Was I nervous as shit? Hell yes. Luckily for me, one of the bikers decided this was the time to do some solo gyrating on the dance floor, providing a third cure for stage fright.

Although I literally could have killed Mike, or at least caused a temporary injury, I am glad that I did it. My only regret is knowing that I can do better than that. So, although it's crossed off the list, I may just have to indulge my small, but growing biker fanbase with a repeat performance one day....

There's a reason video killed the radio star

If this child mysteriously goes missing, you know where to look.

This makes me happier than a 40% off sale at Ann Taylor Loft.

Sidda should be so skilled.

Ok Go + toast + stop motion animation = coolest music video ever

Cats talking. Haha.

Annie Oakley Can Suck It

Another item knocked off my bucket list that we're not calling a bucket list! Actually, I took care of this particular item a few weeks ago. For some reason, I've been wanting to learn how to shoot a gun, just because I never have and they kind of scare the crap out of me. I seem to be on a kick of doing things that scare the crap out of me, but more on that later.

Anywho, my friend Adam recently asked me to be a reference for his gun permit, which I just thought was hysterical. I got a call from the sheriff (for real) and they asked me shockingly few questions about Adam's mental stability and violent tendencies. I resisted the urge to answer facetiously and he secured the permit for his newly purchased pistol. Just before Adam left us here in Wilmington for grad school, we went to the local shooting range, Shooter's Choice, and he taught me how to shoot! Rule #1: Always treat a gun like it's loaded. Took me a while to remember that one, but no worries, we were very safe. It was a blast (pun only quasi-intended), but sadly we did not take any pictures that day. I think I was too terrified and forgot. Guns are scary! However, in lieu of photos of my first shooting experience, I provide you with an amalgamation of awkward/weird/just plain funny photos of the two of us, which seem to be the only kind we take.

I had such a great time the first time around that I knew I could not keep this to myself. Luckily, Shooter's Choice has a Ladies Night every Monday, which is just too good a deal to pass up. Jenn, Stefanie and I took advantage of the $20 charge for instruction, lane and gun rental and ammo last night. I highly recommend this to any ladies in town that are looking for something a bit out of the ordinary. I have to say, I enjoy shooting a lot more than I originally expected. The first time around, I was scared to death. Guns are powerful and oh hey, they can kill you. But I think it's important to know how they work and have a healthy fear of their power. Also, it is one hell of a stress reliever. Here are a few choice photos from last night.

My gun and ammo - this gun kind of sucked. It kept jamming. Luckily, I am a pro.

Showing off our super pretty pink and purple targets. 

Some have commented on why my target has less holes - that's because I'M A PRO, as previously mentioned, and I kept shooting through that little yellow circle aka THE BULLSEYE.

Not sure what's up with Stef in this pic. Maybe she's just acknowledging my extreme prowess at the range.

Also, for those of you aware of, familiar with, or obsessed with 4square as I clearly am, I am now the mayor of Shooter's Choice. HA! 

I also knocked another item off my list Saturday night, although it was unplanned and I felt woefully unprepared. As soon as I get the accompanying photos from Stef and Kara I'll fill you in. Till then, I'll leave you in suspense....

Who knew magic could be so sweaty?

While sweating our way down South Street in Philly, Jenn and I stumbled upon the most interesting place. It's called Philadelphia's Magic Gardens and they are not kidding. It is truly a magical place. An artist named Isaiah Zagar started working on this mosaic installation in 1994 and spent the next 14 years dedicating himself to the project. The neatest thing about it, in my opinion, is that the actual landowner decided to sell the plot where the mural was located and the neighborhood really rallied around it and saved it from the evil real estate conglomerate (I don't really know if it was a real estate conglomerate or if they were evil, but it sounds better, right?) It became a nonprofit organization and is now open for all to enjoy!

In all seriousness, it is truly spectacular and these photos do it no justice. I was truly inspired. If it wasn't literally 100 degrees, I could have spent hours there.

George knew his shit.

Jenn and I made took a trip to Philadelphia last week to visit my mom, see the sights and go to the Glee! concert. It was a quick three days filled with so many special (and by special I mean "special" as in "at least you're pretty/handsome/cute/have cute shoes cause you don't have much else") people, lots of belting in the car to and from RDU, libations (that's what they call drinky-drinks in Philly), sweating, shopping, mosaics, and even a little bit of history. I realize that the least intriguing topic on this list for most would be history, but y'all gonna have to suck it up cause that's what I'm talking about.


While visiting the gift shop of the Betsy Ross House (naturally we took a pic of the house and then didn't want to pay the $4 admission fee - we had to buy libations!) I found the most amazing tiny red book hiding in a corner while stalling for time to dry out from the tiny waterfalls of sweat rolling down my back. It's called:

GEORGE 

WASHINGTON'S 

Rules 

of 

Civility

 & 

Decent Behaviour 

IN COMPANY AND CONVERSATION

That is pretty darn close to what the typeface on the cover of this book looks like. I died laughing at the title and immediately dove in (also still stalling for time to literally stand on an AC vent). According to the short intro, a 14-year old G Dubs wrote down these 110 rules that are based off a French book of maxims and "were intended to polish manners, keep alive the best affections of the heart, impress the obligation of moral virtues, teach how to treat others in social relations, and above all, inculcate the practice of a perfect self-control." Clearly, something we can all use. Therefore, I've decided to reproduce my personal favorites here, along with my own interpretations. Enjoy.

2nd: When in company, put not your hands to any part of the body, not usually discovered.

Now, I'm not sure if George meant your own body, someone else's body, or what. But regardless, if you've already discovered said "parts" then I guess it's ok. 

3rd: Show nothing to your friend that may affright him.

I'm pretty sure this is an addendum to #2.

6th: Sleep not when others speak, sit not when others stand, speak not when you should hold your peace, walk not on when others stop.

I saw a great metal sign in a cool little shop the other day that summarizes this nicely: "BE FUCKING POLITE."

7th: Put not off your clothes in the presence of others, nor go out your chamber half dressed.

You and I both know that we've all had those roommates. (If any of my former roommates are reading this, it's definitely not you. Totally someone else)

9th: Spit not in the fire, nor stoop low before it. Neither put your hands into the flames to warm them, nor set your feet upon the fire, especially if there be meat before it.

I quite agree that feet meat just does not sound appetizing. Nor does meat off the street. It always causes some type of digestive ailment as my good friend Joel continually found out in Tallahassee, which is why we had to make the rule No Meat Off the Street.

15th: Keep your nails clean and short, also your hands and teeth clean, yet without showing any great concern for them.

I take this to mean look damn good, know that you look damn good, but don't let others know that you know that you look damn good.

20th: The gestures of the body must be suited to the discourse you are upon.

Control your nonverbals. I have many friends with this issue, particularly Jenn (love you! but it's true), but I also have to admit that I struggle with it myself as evidenced by this staff photo that has been cropped to protect the identity of the person I'm apparently glaring at. 

We didn't use this one on the website. Just so you know.

24th: Do not laugh too much or too loud in public.

Do NOT agree sir. I quite enjoy laughing a lot in public and very loudly if the occasion calls for it. And anyone that has ever heard my friend Phil McDaniel's laugh will absolutely agree. If I had an audio file of it I would post it for you. Then again, if I had an audio file of Phil's laugh, that would just be weird and awkward.

35th: Let your discourse with men of business be short and comprehensive.

Could not agree more. Men of business are not to be tolerated for long.

38th: In visiting the sick, do not presently play the physician if you be not knowing therein.

This also applies to diagnosing yourself or others with webMD, Annahita, OR offering friends questionable medical advice such as forgoing stitches and just super-gluing the gaping gash in your leg back together or draining your bruised fingernail with a hunting knife.... Adam.

47th: If you deliver anything witty and pleasant, abstain from laughing thereat yourself.

Then what, pray tell, is the point of blogging?

50th: Be not hasty to believe flying reports to the disparagement of any.

Aka, quit reading USWeekly, In Touch, tmz.com, Star, celebitchy.com, I could go on and on......and I'll tell you - just not happening.

54th: Play not the peacock, looking everywhere about you, to see if you be well decked, if your shoes fit well, if your stockings sit neatly, and clothes handsomely. 

Who knew George here coined the term peacocking? 

89th: Speak not evil of the absent, for it is unjust.

But if they're present, then it's ok.

99th: Drink not too leisurely, nor yet too hasty.

It is SO hard to balance that fine line of charmingly tipsy and obnoxiously drunk. I'm so glad George gets it!

110th: Labour to keep alive in your breast that little celestial fire called conscience. 

If only George, if only.

Fun with words: Profanity Edition

Sometimes you just need to drop an f-bomb.

 

Bahahahaha, oh Colin Firth, it actually sounds dignified coming from you.

The trouble with jogging is that the ice falls out of your glass*

The greatest pleasure in life is doing the things people say we cannot do. 

-Walter Bagehot

I've never been a great athlete, or an athlete at all really. I lack the necessary coordination for most sports and always feared letting my teammates down with my lack of skill. I also had little confidence in what my body was capable of. I accepted that I was an artist, a musician, a booknerd, but not an athlete. It was never part of my identity, until now. I accomplished something huge yesterday, something huge for me. I ran an entire 5k. Slowly. But I ran it! It's something that I've wanted to do just to prove that I could and I did. However, there is no way I could have done it without my friends, particularly Christina. 

Christina and I pre-race.

She ran with me the whole time even though I'm sure she could have run it faster, and when I did want to stop and walk she reminded me of why I was doing this and that my body could do it as long as I believed I could. She was truly inspirational and I owe so much of this victory to her. 

However, I had more support than I realized. A few days before the race I found out that several of my other friends were doing the race as well. We all ran different speeds and finished at different times, but it was amazing having them there all the same!

Me, Lindsey, Adrienne, and Jemilia

The UNCDub crew pre-race: Phil, Lindsey, me, Christina, Adrienne, Lindsey, Jemilia, and Justin in his funny little shoes.

Post race with Jenn, Christina, and a bright red tomato face!

 It was an incredible experience in addition to being an emotional one. The second I crossed the finish line I just burst into tears. I think I was crying for what I had accomplished, the person that I am now and the person I used to be. The one that never thought I could do this, that my body could do this. I really like the quote at the beginning of this post, but with a minor adjustment:

The greatest pleasure in life is doing the things we say we cannot do.

*Title attributed to Martin Mull