A Letter To Me

I’ve had some issues with Brad Paisley songs in the past, and I know I’m not alone. However, I keep hearing his “Letter to Me” on the radio, and I like it. Here are the lyrics and here is a video (because Brad Paisley is worth watching – he’s got a cute grin). If you haven’t heard it and are too ornery to read the lyrics, it’s about an adult who thinks about what he would write if he could send a letter back in time to himself at age 17. It’s got some sweet and funny lines, but the PS gets me every single time. I know it’s coming, and every single time I hear it I choke up.

Listening to it, yesterday, on the ride home made me wonder what I would like to tell myself at age 17. In 10 years, what kind of perspective have I gained? Here are some things:

• Stop stressing out so much about getting into college. You aren’t conceited about your grades, but you know they are good – you’re going to be valedictorian. If you can’t get into college, who can? Relax and enjoy it.
• Take your sister and her friends to lunch, more often. Remember how you always wanted seniors to take you? She does, too, and her friends will think you’re awesome. Be nice and do it.
• Have the guts to ask that policeman what he’s implying when he stops you for no good reason other than the person who is riding in the car with you. You know he’s implying something that is racist and just plain wrong. Call him on it. What’s he going to arrest you for? Stand up for yourself and stand up for your boyfriend.
• Pay attention to that Valentine candygram you get. It will be important to you, later.
• Talk to your dad. You’re right about it, but you should remember that it’s just as hard for him as it is for you.
• You aren’t as fat or as ugly or as dorky as you think you are. Trust me on this.
• My PS would be exactly the same as Mr. Paisley’s, take out “Rita” and insert “Carol.”

What would you write to your 17-year old self?

Pass/Fail

There’s going to be a little blurb about me in our local newspaper. For some reason, I’m freaking out about it. Each year, the newspaper chooses a group of local high school seniors to honor for their academic accomplishments. Those students, in turn, get to honor a teacher or faculty member that has inspired them, along the way. Parents, students and teachers attend a nice dinner and a picture and profile of each student is published in one of the Sunday editions. The paper also does a “Where are they, now?” type of update on the students profiled ten years ago. This year, it will be ten years since I was honored as a local kid who did well on her ACT.

Why do I feel like my update is going to be one that people read and think, “Huh. She turned out to not be so great, after all.” You know people do that. My mom and I have done that, and she’d the nicest person in the world! Personally, I feel pretty successful. I’ve accomplished many of the goals I set out for myself when I was 18. I have a college degree, a career in my field, a professional certification, my own house, etc. I’m a bona fide adult who contributes to her society, you know?

However, I fear that my little inch of the Local section of an upcoming Sunday paper will read more like, “Local girl went to college, then came home. The end.” Well, you know what? One of the areas that my state really excels in is educating talented kids who, somewhere between the summer abroad and the hometown wedding, realize that there’s a bigger world out there. We pay tax dollars to fund public universities with excellent law, medical and engineering programs only to have the students who benefit from them leave the state to take more lucrative jobs in large metropolitan areas. I’m the result of some pretty hard personal work to land a scholarship at a private university. I didn’t use those tax dollars, but I’m reinvesting in my state by staying here to be a productive member of society.

I’m protesting too much, aren’t I? A little whiny? Well, I didn’t say I was perfect.

All that silly ranting aside, I’m happy with my life and 97% of me doesn’t care a bit what the readers of my hometown paper think of my accomplishments in the past ten years. That 3%, though, is doing a number, today.

The reporter asked if I’d be willing to submit a picture for inclusion. That kind of freaks me out because I don’t want to be the only one with a photo and look like a goody two-shoes or something. But, I just might send one of these:

That last one might look innocuous enough, but just out of the crop I’m doing my best Vanna White impression with a Sam Adams. I wish I had the balls to put the first one in. I’m betting they wouldn’t publish it, though.

Show Me Love

The Cute Girl Who Doesn’t Comment: In your blog yesterday, you were talking about your guy friend from the fourth grade…but I thought to myself…Lydia didn’t have any friends in the fourth grade. OR fifth grade.

Me: I knew this would come up…ask him if he was my friend in 4th grade. He’ll probably say no, but I count him as my friend because I was in love with him.

The Cute Girl Who Doesn’t Comment: Ohhhh yeah. Now I remember. My boyfriend just discovered the pencil stab wound on my wrist. I told him it was from a boy I had a crush on.

Me: Nothing says true love like a pencil stab to the wrist.

A day at the museum, in pictures.

The trip to see BODIES…The Exhibition was pretty amazing. The Cincinnati Museum Center at Union Terminal is a great piece of architecture. Here are some photos I really like:

This is the exterior of Union Terminal.

These are images of the interior ceiling. I love these so much I can’t say.

This is another section of the ceiling. There were two murals like this, depicting the human and technological history of the area. They were pretty amazing.

Sadly, there aren’t any photos of the exhibit because photography, understandably, wasn’t allowed. It was a pretty amazing exhibit, though, and I highly recommend it for anyone who has a body.

This close-up of the fountain at Union Terminal is to my liking. It looks like something from the land of Oz.

Finally, since Mad Dog got a camera for Christmas and she’s always looking for cool pictures, to take, we ventured up to Devou Park in Northern Kentucky. The skyline is pretty cool on both sides of the river.

The Cincinnati Side.

The Covington Side.

It’s Picture Day!

I received some pictures of my nephews, this morning, so I thought I’d post my favorites. There aren’t enough cute kids on this site. In addition, I learned how to use Jason’s fancy schmancy scanner, so I scanned one of my favorite all-time pictures. Here they are:

This is Bubs. My sister says this is his new “trick.” He’s flexing his muscles.

Here’s another of Bubs. I love the expression on his face. Someone more talented than me could totally lolkid this picture.

Here’s A-dog with his Power to the Babies fist pump.

And now, old man A-dog. He’s a grumpy old man baby.

And, finally, one of my very favorite pictures in the whole world. That’s me, in the first photographic documentation of my fanhood. How excited am I to be with a Kentucky player? It was taken in 1984 during the barnstorming tour that featured the seniors, that year. Here, I’m with Melvin Turpin.