Sunday, June 16, 2013

Take the long way home

It's Fathers Day, y'all.

Every day I thank God for the father that I have. He is amazing in so many ways.

And so I wanted to write him a tribute that I hoped he would like so he can know that I really do appreciate him and have learned so much from him. Here it goes...

So many things remind me of my childhood. The taste of funnel cake. The smell of burning leaves. The sight of rolling hills of trees. But every sound that reminds me of my childhood: every song, every wistful lyric, every strum of acoustic guitar, reminds me of my dad.

As I have said many times, growing up with Dave Hinsdale for a father was like being raised in a History of Music class. (with an emphasis on classic rock and classical)

And so, this fathers day, I wanted to spotlight some of the music he played (so loud the floors would shake) and how both that music and he taught me so much.

Circle Game by Joni Mitchell.


Joni Mitchell albums were the kind my dad played on repeat track all night. Either Joni or Mary Black or some other folk artist. Joni taught me that life is short and appreciate the days as they fly by. By playing her music and painstakingly explaining the lyrics to my 11 year old self, my dad taught me to appreciate true artistry and to not be afraid to be myself and do what makes me happy.

Dreamer by Supertramp


Supertramp music was the true soundtrack to my childhood. And not just the classic ones that everyone knows. ALL of the songs. My dad would put on their songs (Breakfast in American and Dreamer being my favorites) and play along on the air guitar. Supertramp taught me that you can actually feel music in your whole body and that the world was bigger than my little borough of Dublin, PA. By playing their music my dad taught me to look for things outside of myself. For people and experiences that could change how I see the world.

Solsbury Hill by Peter Gabriel


My dad played all of the Genisis, Police, Peter Gabriel solo type music. I could list probably 50 songs that have the same feeling for me as Solsbury Hill. Roxanne, Don't stand so close to me, Money for Nothing and so many more. But I love Solsbury Hill and it reminds me most of my dad because of one line. The line goes "Son, he said..grab your things, I've come to take you home". My dad creates the feeling of home for me. If you ask my sisters what home means they would probably tell you the same things as me: Dad blaring music, grilling steaks, muttering about how no one can put anything back where they got it, making you eat until you feel sick, slipping you money if he thinks you need it (with a wave of his hand and "don't worry about it" if you try and thank him). He's such a deep down good person and this song always reminds me of that.

Romeo and Juliet by Dire Straits

They played this song when my European tour bus drove by Verona, Italy. It brought tears to my eyes and I wished my dad was there to see Europe with me. Nothing takes me back to childhood like Dire Straits. Industrial Disease, Sultans of Swing, Les Boys, Telegraph Road, Brothers in Arms. They all invoke instant nostalgia. Every song has a message and my dad would explain every one of them to me. Dire Straits taught me about love, loss, and politics in the 80's. By playing them my dad taught me to be socially aware, to care about the little things, and that if two men say they're Jesus, one of the must be wrong:) 

Of course, this is barely scratching the surface. I haven't even gotten to The Beatles, Indigo Girls, Pink Floyd, Mozart, every Jazz musician ever born, and about one million others. Don't worry, people. There is always next Fathers Day.

I know this was long. Maybe because I feel like I can never say the right thing or convey enough of how grateful I am to my dad for being the best father I could have ever asked for. 

I hope you know, Dad. 

Love,

Oreo

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Taurus, pisces rising is a very good sign


Behold, the Katy Cat.
(who was allowed to play in the rain,mud, and paint today- a rare indulgence from my sister who likes to keep her kids scrubbed and shining like the top of the Chrysler building!)

The other day I overheard a conversation that Katy was having with their family cat, Willow. (who some people call Snarfus..yes, they are still debating her name 2 years later)

Anyway, she is crouched down, petting the cat when I hear the following:

"I can see that you are sad about your parents. But...they're dead"

I swear to heaven above that is what she said to Willow/Snarfus (who shall be known from here on as "Snarow")

Oh strange Katy Cat, medium to household cats everywhere..what would we do without you?

Lori Ann

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Love her and she'll bring you luck


I walked two miles before coming to work today. I might walk a few more when I get home.
Now I am having fresh picked PA strawberries, raspberry yogurt, and a icy cold dasani water for lunch.

And I feel inspired.

I used to think that people who talked about how great a healthy lifestyle was were just lying to themselves to mask the deep seated depression that must accompany a life without diet coke and donuts.

And while I did stop to smell the donuts that medical records always has out (I swear it's a non stop party back there..and yes, the donuts did smell like happiness) I was able to walk away.

I don't know if this is an epiphany or just the ramblings of someone who is sugar deprived.

I feel great. And I don't (except during very stressful moments or late night tv watching binges) miss the soda and the junk. It never really made me happy.

Anyway, I vow to make this the last healthy eating/ lifestyle post for a while. We will be moving on and tackling my other vices!!

Lori Ann

p.s.- Thanks to 'the Voice' I am once again obsessed with this song.



Monday, June 10, 2013

I want you to stay


Sour Krout. Because no post is complete without a cat picture

Random Life Updates

I have to see my doctor in about 30 days. And I want to impress him with my weight loss.So; starting today, I am instituting a 30 lbs in 30 days challenge. I was at the gym before 6 am this morning. It's getting weird in my world, yo.
(On a side note: I would be happy with 5 lbs in 30 days. I am just trying to set impossible goals so I can justify crashing on day 7 and binging on cookie dough)

On what I am sure is a completely unrelated note, I am almost falling asleep in my chair. I'm eating fat free tuna salad on crackers to try and wake myself up. It's not working.

It's the 150 anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg next month. Guess who is going to see some reenactments?? WE ARE! (By "we" I mean me, Danielle, and my evil nieces and nephews!) We are getting a hotel with a pool, doing the family friendly activities they have, showing the kids some monuments, and immersing my four favorite young Americans in our amazing PA history.

Tonight is my first night running a teen Asperger's social skills support group. There are going to be lollipops and scavenger hunts.

On what I am sure is a completely unrelated side note, it's weird how I run my sessions and groups kind of like church activities or Sunday School. I've only had 2 clients that have turned out to be LDS and they recognized me as a Mormon almost immediately. Weird, eh?

This tuna was not a good idea.

Protein, Lori. Protein.

Why can't they make protein that tastes like cookie dough? Or pringles? Or gummi bears? Come on, people. Let's make this happen.

Lori Ann

Sunday, June 9, 2013

But it's over now

Today's topic:

My ever evolving definition of 
romance.

Ironically, for someone who is a spinster, romance has always been a big part of my life.

I've been reading romance novels since the age of 9. I've always loved romantic movies and I am obsessed with shows like "My Fair Wedding" and "Say Yes to the Dress". I watch surprise proposals on youtube and adore the stories of Wallis Simpson and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

I figured that it was pretty much a given that one day a man would either abdicate his throne for me or could at least become the subject of a lot of stream of consciousness poetry I would one day be famous for. 

 However, my definition and ideas about romance have undergone a transformation recently.

Here's why:

1. I've stopped reading trashy novels. Well, I kind of went from straight to gay romance novels. But then I realized that they are all boring. So, I'm off all romance novels now and I feel like I'm coming out of a little bit of a fog. I've slowly begun to realize that I am not going to be proposed to by a Greek billionaire or marry a rugged, brooding cowboy. And that I really probably wouldn't want to if I got a chance. (unless either of them was willing to live in the PA countryside and/or they have really great health benefits)

2. I am a  marriage counselor. Nothing will change your perception of happily ever after quicker than mediating couples as they scream things like "My mother tried to warn me, but did I listen? No!" and " I know you've had 3 kids but shouldn't you be kind of back in shape by now?"

So..in summary, my ideas about romance until recently were kind of like this..



And now they are more like this (how she chose Blane after this is beyond me)


Bottom line: If a man sings you Otis Redding, you hold on to him like grim death. I think we've all learned something here today.

Lori Ann

Thursday, June 6, 2013

If your train's on time

 
A Rant About My Work
(aka I'm more like my dad than I realized)

I work for a non profit. It's a good company. I don't want to say anything negative about it (because this is the Internet, y'all). But I am still frustrated by my work at times.

I didn't become a therapist because it was my driving passion to help people overcome their mental health struggles.

I didn't become a therapist because I have a deep interest in the working of the human brain.

I became a therapist more by happenstance, a strange detour to North Carolina, and how much it costs to take the GRE.

So, I wouldn't call what I do my calling in life. But I still really really want to do a good job.
 (that's the part where I'm like my dad. He's of the old school "give people quality for their money" type philosophy)

When you get to know people and they tell you things they've never said to anyone else and when they've cried and broken down and asked YOU for help, you know that you have to help them. You can't leave them in the office at 5 pm and pick them back up the next morning at 9.

I dream about my clients every night. Every single one.

And that's what frustrates me so much about my work.

I can't give these people the time, mental energy, and effort that each one of them deserves.

I'm drowning in paperwork and by the time I come up for air, it's time for another session. With someone whose file I haven't had a chance to even look at since their last appointment.

I haven't had time to research resources for them or even think about what I am going to say.

I think I could make the time and give these clients what they really deserve but it would require me to give up my own life.

 I couldn't come home and watch the news with my parents. Or lay out on the soccer field, screaming "go Elly, go!". Or workout with Tory.

I'd have to come in early and leave late every day to give them what I honestly believe they deserve and stay on top of my paperwork as well.

I've gone down that road before in North Carolina. I got so burnt out that I didn't care about anything anymore.

I guess there isn't any easy answer here.

My company is a good company and I know they mean well but they have regulations to follow and they need to get more and more people in the door to pay the bills.

My clients are good people who are understanding and seem happy (for the most part) with the limited help I can offer.

I feel like I am a good person who wants to do the right thing but isn't always sure what that is. 

Maybe this is a first world problem. And maybe since I'm a full time working woman and spinster most people that read this (hey Mom!) won't be able to relate. I don't know.

It's just what I wanted to say today.

Lori Ann

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

You are my candy

This is my life. Random soccer nights and mildly depressed cats. It doesn't get much more legit than that.

Sugar, Sugar.

My sister calls these two the peanut butter and jelly. They are kind of soccer rock stars!

Lori Ann