You Belong to the City...for now...

This is one of my all time favorite sayings.  I first saw it years ago in an airport on fancy dancy stationary cards. Though I didn't buy the cards, I logged the words into the sentimental rolodex that is my brain.

Since I was 23 years old, I have been a bigger girl than most. If you count paying a mortgage as big, that is.  My parents have helped me a TON along the way with generous gifts and painting, yard and furniture improvements and I could not have done it without them.  But as I look around on my last night here, I can't help but think, wow- I'm leaving the first big, adult thing I have ever done. And while living in the boonies was not filled with thrills and zest, that's ok. I'm thankful for my time here, as I learned a lot about myself and how to be happy and independent.

Good thing I have had a lifetime love for PB&J, as quite often that served as my affordable dinner here, while saving money for the weekly treat of a Quizno's sub and shopping trips to American Eagle for new jeans. My tastes have changed tenfold from then, thank goodness, but they are humble reminders ,for sure :)

I'm moving to the city tomorrow to live with Stacey, my other sister, separated only by different parents and a few years. It's exciting, a new adventure. We're both changing channels, finding new ways to fill our sails and the end our comfort zones.

Feed a hungry heart and live like you were dying

Music has always been a huge part of my life  (hence the title of this blog :) Ever since I was little, if I know a song, I will sing it. Sing it loudly and slightly off key. And since I have a memory that rivals Rain Man,  this is usually the case with every song, everywhere I go. Music speaks to me, it makes this emotional girl feel accepted. I look to music as validation that what I feel at any given time is ok and that someone else has felt this way too. The only thing better than music on the radio, at a party or on my iPod, is live music. This spring, I found the Holy Grail.

BRUUUUUCE. When you're almost 63 and still rocking for over three hours without a break, you deserve to go by your first name.  My mom, dad, Courtney and I saw him in April. Dream.Come.True. A bucket list check off.  To watch him and the E Street band is incredible. They are living the American dream, doing what they love for a living, every day since they were 17 and it is awe inspiring. Bruce sings about a hungry heart and has definitely fed his. I strive to do the same.

This past weekend I went to Charlotte to visit Courtney and Bailey.  Courtney got me tickets to see Kenny Chesney and Tim McGraw for my birthday. I'm always up for a Kenny concert, but had never seen Tim, so I was super psyched. I had a BLAST singing and dancing and losing my voice during the five hour main event. The concert was great, but the best part was one Tim McGraw song. I have never in my life, seen a more powerful, moving performance than when he sang Live Like You Were Dying.  His first hit song after his dad's death makes a statement on it's own, but to see him sing it live, makes one truly understand it's message. You not only hear the message, you feel it. You feel it in your heart and in the tears that well up in your eyes. It is a message I am aiming to instill in my life.


 My sidda and I had a great time last weekend which also included surprise Stoli Doli martinis and coconut cream pie, two of my all time favorites. Even though they are not the best drink and food choices, I don't care. I refuse to limit myself, that is not what I want my life to be about. I want to experience all of the luxuries life has to offer while I'm still able to enjoy them. When you think of Bruce, Kenny, Stoli Dolis, coconut cream pie and Tim McGraw, or whatever your version of a luxury is, I hope you do so with a full heart and smile on your face.

Hot Air Balloons, Bison and Elk, Oh my!

We recently went on a family trip to celebrate my dad's 60th birthday. We are a tight family of four who revel in the same pastimes; eating, drinking and exploring new things and then drinking some more... Experiences in life are far more valuable, and provide better stories than material things. So give me something new and fun to try over a new purse any day, I won't use it next season anyhow, I'm a snob like that. On a cold, sunny morning we joined eight other people and let Miles, the captain and his crew lift us 3,000 feet high above the Utah Rockies. The feeling of levitating off the ground and then floating through the air was wild, but surprisingly serene. As we traveled over the mountainside and highways, the only noise was that of the hot air balloon burner sporadically firing and talking amongst the group. We saw the Great Salt Lake from afar and tracked a pack of elk (our soon to be dinner?!!) down a mountain. We landed, as Miles put it, "wherever the balloon wants," in a local neighborhood, right on the street. A champagne toast capped off a great morning!

Along with beautiful scenery, Park City, Utah has some good eats, too. I had a bison burger-incredibly juicy, with less fat than the regular, moo cow kind, almost like a buffalo burger. Elk is a staple out west. An expensive staple, far pricer than a moo cow filet, but worth it. Again, less on the fat girl side, but not gamey like venison. Can you tell the reduced guilt factor played a big role in my trying these goodies for the first time?! I skied again for the first time in a long time, too. Add 22 years and 50 lbs since the last time I flew down the mountain and the fact that I didn't blow out a knee or get plowed by a four year old-big success! It was a blast and makes me excited for next winter where I hope to fulfill my ski bunny reign on the east coast.

Go to PCU, you will love it, especially if you have a good reason to celebrate like we did. Turning 60 is a BIG deal. Celebrating we did, for life is short, but sweet for certain...

Spinning me right 'round

I've been an athlete my whole life and catch on quickly to new activities, but, I hate being told what to do and how to do it. That's probably because I ate, slept, breathed (held my breath is more like it), sweated and iced over used muscles for years under someone else's every command. So it's no wonder that when I go to the gym now, I only answer to myself. Just like Vivian in Pretty Woman, "I say who, I say what, I say where. I say whooo."

My inner control freak coupled with my overuse knee an hip pains are the reasons I had never tried a spin class until almost two weeks ago. ( Ok, I have been on a spin bike before, but that was way back in my chub club days in 2001 where swimming 8 miles a day was not enough cardio, that we had to bike 45 minutes a day while lifting too).

So I did it. And I LOVED IT!! I cannot get enough. The first 15 minutes were the hardest and then the muscle memory and endorphins kicked in. The feeling of pushing yourself, making your body go to depths of it's tolerance for all things physical. I am addicted to this feeling, this feeling is why I loved swimming. To challenge yourself. To do what you think you cannot and then excel at it, makes me want to do it even more the next day. Spinning is the first workout I have had outside of swimming that got my heart rate sky high without compromising my joints. I encourage everyone, do it. Even if you think you can't, you can. The music makes it feel like a party and the pride you feel after makes it worth it.

Still haven't found what I'm looking for...but I know this much is true

I have SO much to be thankful for. I am healthy. I have enough food to eat, red wine to drink, chocolate to scarf down and thank goodness, a gym membership too. If I had my life to live over I couldn't possibly hand pick better family and friends for myself. I have had and still have many opportunities and perks denied to many. But something's missing...

I am happy. Happy is me. Don't mistake that. But, I can't help but feeling something is missing. What, I don't know. At least not yet. Some days I want to move. Move anywhere, under the premise I can do anything for a year. Hawaii, Chicago, why not? Some days I fantasize at the chance to be someone different, to try something so completely foreign that the excitement of this hope makes me feel like a new person. I am excited to think, ok, I'm going to find it. The highly regarded "It." That missing piece that once it's here, I will be whole. I will be the 100% best me I can be. Other days, I am a wave of emotion that ebbs and flows as the day goes on and I have no clue where to start. Sometimes the mere thought of doing anything at all is so overwhelming that I only want to sit on the couch and watch Ellen. Who doesn't love to laugh and dance along with her?

If you asked me when I was ten years old where I'd be today, my answer would no more resemble my life than a cult revival resembles a frat party. But that's ok. My first post here is one of hope. I want to write something I would want to read. I wish there was someone, a little bird in my ear telling me that the life I planned is not here yet, because it will be bigger, better and different than what that ten year old girl imagined.

Sometimes your head gets blurred with ideas and possibilities, but deep down, your heart always knows. If your's is anything like mine, it can't tell you no. It will always steer you in the direction you need to be going...