They call me Curly Oprah

I’ve always thought I would enjoy being a journalist. Not the type that has to weather the elements every morning while trying to look happy, but the type that gets to sit in a comfy chair and ask people shockingly personal questions without seeming nosey. Picture Barbara Walters or Oprah. They both have an amazing ability to pry without offending their interviewees.  It’s magical!  And when’s the last time you saw either of them standing up during an interview?  Talk about a dream job!

Arch enemies or best friends? We may never know.

I recently decided to hold my very first interview.  My main goals for this interview were to help my subject tell his or her story and to practice my looking concerned skills.

My mother was kind enough to be my test subject. Unfortunately for her, she was not aware of this.  The following conversation may or may not have actually taken place.  But probably not.


CC:  Good evening, Patti. Thank you for sitting down with me tonight.

Mom:  You’re welcome, I guess.  I don’t really understand the point of this.  And why are you calling me by my first name?

CC:  Patti, this is a professional interview.  I have to call you that.

Mom:  Professional?! Carly, you’re wearing pajamas and eating a bag of candy. You have half a gummy worm hanging out of your mouth.

CC:  Mother!

Mom:  And why are you wearing glasses?  They don’t even have lenses in them.

CC:  These are my journalist glasses.  Do you even watch TV?!  You know what, fineLet’s just move on.  I’d like to journey back in time for a bit.  30 long years ago, you gave birth to your third child. Can you tell me more about that?

Mom:  As we both know, you are my third child.

CC:  Interesting.  Patti, give me your hands.

Mom:  Why?!

CC:  I can see you’re feeling vulnerable.  It will make you feel more comfortable.

Mom:  I’m not holding your hands.  They’re sweaty.  What is wrong with you?

CC:  I’m now going to stare at you for a moment so that we can have a shared bonding experience.  Then you’ll trust me and be more open to spilling your guts.

Mom:  Ok, like I was saying…your father and I were very happy when you were born.

CC:  I see.  And at what moment did you realize I was your favorite child?

Mom:  We didn’t have favorites. We loved you all equally.

CC:  Patti. You can be honest here. This is a safe place. Perhaps you can tell us about all those times you would rock me, smile and say “third time’s a charm?”

Mom:  I never did anything of the sort! Where do you get this stuff?

CC:  So, how does it feel to have three kids in their 30’s? Do you miss hearing the pitter patter of little feet?

Mom:  I’m ok with it. I have grandchildren now, so I’m happy.

CC:  Um, that’s not really the answer I was looking for.

Mom:  What? You were all great kids, but I’m in a different phase of life now.

CC:  Mom!  I brought a box of tissues!  You’re supposed to cry!

Mom:  Carly, I can’t cry on command. Why do you want me to cry, anyway?

CC:  Because. That’s what makes for a great interview. Now, please tell me how I can get you to cry. What if I let you hold me like a baby, just like old times?

Mom:  No.

CC:  What if I broke your nose again? Ha!

Mom:  Is this over yet? I need to do laundry.

CC:  But I have so many more questions!  And I haven’t even practiced my sympathetic head tilt yet!

(Mom walks out of room)

CC:  Hey, Dad!  On a scale of 1-10, how emotionally fragile are you feeling right now?

(Dad walks out of room)

Throwback Thursday (on a Friday): Home Video Edition

There are few things I treasure more than home videos.  And there are few things I fear more than losing the few my family has from my childhood. That’s assuming we’re not including:

  • wild animals prone to attacking humans or being poisonous
  • Ebola
  • all of my teeth falling out, spontaneously or otherwise
  • falling into a crevasse during an earthquake
  • wild animals with Ebola

Anyway, being the keeper of the family videos, I know I have a responsibility to preserve them as best I can.

As I was getting ready to research online storage options, I decided that was boring and took a bubble bath instead. A few days later, I thought about it again and promptly decided to un-think about it.

Now, here we are today, only a few short months later. Did I ever begin my research? Of course not. I thought it would be much more fun to share one of the videos with you. And, while I didn’t have time to do a quick Google search of “online storage options,” I did take the time to painstakingly add sub-titles. To be fair with myself, I had no idea how long that would take. It was worth finishing though. Not only did I finally learn a very basic video editing skill, I also made the video half-way understandable. And, as they say, a video with poor sound quality and lack of sub-titles might as well be a video with no sound at all.

I don't think that's how the saying goes.

I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.

Ok, the video below was taken not long after I got my hand stuck in a treadmill.  The characters are: Dad, Mom, sister and dog Katy in the background (not even remotely relevant).

A few notes on the video:

  • I’m posting this primarily for the benefit of friends and family. If you’re a stranger, you will probably be bored.
  • My dad isn’t actually a hillbilly. He only spoke incorrectly to be funny.
  • This video shows why I was practically mute for the first three years of my life. My sister was my spokesperson.

This is my first experience using YouTube. Hopefully the video works. If not, here’s the link:

Return of the Blog

The year was 2013.  I remember it well-ish.  Some things happened, and then some more things after that. It was so amazing that I can’t even remember most of the specifics. Anyway, in the midst of all the things, I became distracted and this little blog of mine fell by the wayside.

Fast-forward to present time

I considered beginning a blog revival several months ago.  However, I was so busy that I decided to wait until after the holidays.  But then, just as I was about to jump back in, I came across a good mini-series on Netflix.  And, as we all know, TV > blogging.

I miss him.

                         I miss him.

Let’s have a brief side-convo about that mini-series.  It’s called “The Forsyte Saga.”  Watch it.  It’s similar to “Downton Abbey,” with the unfortunate distinction being that it only spans 10 episodes.  By the way, the other day I found myself thinking in a British accent.  That has to be a sign of watching too much British television.  I’ll sound the alarm if I also stop going to the dentist.

Hey, remember when I told you to watch “The Forsyte Saga?”  You can ignore that if you’re a man.  You’ll hate it.

Back to the blog revival.  I came back for the same reason I started it in the first place- the need for a creative outlet.  And because I need a hobby.  I tried drawing, but as you’ll see below, I think I’ve reached my maximum potential with that.

Can I first just say that Google has made me keenly aware of how strange this world is?  To get an idea of something to draw, I googled “how to draw.”  One of the first things to pop up was “how to draw a holiday skeleton.”  Of course!  The classic holiday skeleton.  The youth of today scare me if this is what they’re into.

But, why?

 Are the coat and hat really necessary? He doesn’t even have skin!

The best holiday skeleton I've ever drawn.

My version.  The best holiday skeleton I’ve ever drawn.  It also doubles as a pilgrim skeleton.

Catching up

 Since the last time I was here, I:

  • Turned 30 and lamented over it
  • Realized 30 feels exactly the same as 29
  • Thought about learning how to crochet and even read the first 2 pages of my instruction book several different times
  • Grew even more perplexed and annoyed by celebrity culture
  • Moved, then vowed to never move again
  • Developed strong unpleasant feelings for smoke detectors
  • Started several more books that I may or may not ever finish (I know what you’re thinking.  No, I never finished Football for Dummies.)
  • Cut cable and joined the magnificent and inexpensive world of Netflix
It was meant to be.

It was meant            to be. 

  • Thought of a brilliant invention, but then forgot what it was
  • Finished a 2,000 piece puzzle and nearly cried tears of joy when it was finished

As you can see, I still lead a pretty exciting life.  Stay tuned for more life-altering blogging.  No more holiday skeletons, I promise.

I never said that.

                     I never said that.