Oh Baby

Tiny baby or huge hands?

awww

And here it is: The top ten love songs playlist

Trust Me (This is Love) - Amanda Marshall. Love allows people to grow stronger during trials if they choose. This song is your cheerleader.

You’re My Home - Billy Joel. “You’re my castle you’re my cabin and my instant pleasure-dome I need you in my house ‘cause you’re my home.”

That’s All – Rod Stewart. This one perfectly illustrates that golden vision of love you have before you actually get married and realize there’s little time for country walks in springtime. But I still get fuzzy when I hear this song and I’m reminded we can still create at least some gold leaf in between work and dishes and laundry and life. I love Nat King Cole’s and Rod Stewart’s equally.

Come To Me - Celine Dion. This song feels like the way my mom gives love – her heart has always been my beacon home.

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face - George Michael. Go on and hate me, but I can’t stand the Roberta Flack version of this song. This song should be sung like you eat chocolate: slow enough you can taste every word.

Push - Sarah Mclachlan. Kristen puts it best: “A deeply haunting melody and the truest love song I’ve ever heard.”

Goodbye My Lover - James Blunt. Unbearably sad but core-alteringly romantic. (I’m aware “alteringly” isn’t a word.)

The Very Thought Of You - Nat King Cole. This one could whisk anyone away to a slow dance with their lover. You know that little spot your head rests and you can smell his skin and feel him breathe? Oh no, I sound like Delilah. I just shaved my tongue with a razor blade. There, that should even the tone again. (You’re welcome, Ryan) (You know what Ryan, quit rolling your eyes and just be glad I didn’t include Karen Carpenter, because I was this close to including Karen Carpenter.)

Better Together - Jack Johnson. Jack doesn’t claim he can’t breathe the air without you, he’s not saying there ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, he’s not saying he was a miserable self-loathing goat before you came around. He’s simply saying we make each other better. Evenly. Not 90% me, 10% you or the other way around.

Everything – Lifehouse. “How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?”
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Just missed the cut:
Home – Michael Bublé
You’re Still You – Josh Groban
Stacy’s Mom – Fountains of Wayne
Come What May – Nicole Kidman & Ewan McGregor

Shallow Single Girl, BBKF, and Love Songs

“Dear Diary,

I was at the gym this morning and there was a sad chubby girl on the treadmill to the left of me. Maybe she was so sad because she has hundreds of miles to jog before she’ll be able to vacuum the living room without panting. Anyway, she started crying while walking on the treadmill. I wouldn’t have noticed if 1) I hadn’t left my headphones in the car and 2) reading lips from re-runs of Friends episodes wasn’t such an impossible feat. Nothing left to do besides watch people. As if crying weren’t strange enough, as soon as she realized I was watching her, some freak, startled movement of her arm sent her iPod flying out of the cup-holder. I looked over just in time to see the earphones being yanked from her ears, and whipped into the air to follow the pink, click-wheeled blur that had already passed over my head, well on its way to its landing place on the back of the treadmill to my right. The treadmill belt carried the iPod to the floor as Sad Chubby Embarrassed Girl looked at me and laughed, “I’m destined to make an ass of myself.” Then she stepped off her treadmill, fetched her iPod, and continued her workout as if nothing had happened.”

Such could be the journal entry of the skinny girl on the treadmill to the right of me this morning. Who, by the way, was wearing a highly offensive amount of perfume and hairspray for the gym, which is how you can tell if someone is extremely single, shallow, and on the hunt for a man with big muscles. It’s a foolproof test, because there's no other reason to look and smell like that at the gym. See, even if you had just come from, say, a black tie banquet at 6 in the morning, and weren’t an extremely single, shallow, and on the hunt for a man with big muscles type of girl, you would wash your face and pull your hair into a pony before frolicking off to sweat your pits out. But I digress.

First of all… skinny, single, shallow girl’s journal entry would have been a lot more interesting had she known the name of my iPod is “Boo Boo Kitty Freak” (hereafter referred to as “BBKF”). Secondly, I was crying on the treadmill for you, dear reader. Why you ask? Let’s start from the beginning:

The Celebrity Playlist section of iTunes is shortly becoming a nuisance to my stash of iTunes gift certificates. (I buy the gift certificates for myself so I can feel better about spending money on music for BBKF. I know it’s stupid, but it makes me feel better nonetheless.) It’s a nuisance because although I am not one for celebrity infatuation, I am addicted to reading what specific celebrities enjoy. The problem comes in when, for example, I had to purchase three songs simply because I have a girl-crush on Nicole Kidman, and her playlist contained three songs I didn’t previously own. ***I could now type any number of excuses along the lines of, “no I’m not a stalker,”and, “yes I know myself well enough to not need others’ opinions in order to form my own,” but bottom line is, there’s no excuse for what I’ve done***

It’s apparent I’m not the only psycho addicted to the playlists: iTunes wouldn’t keep paying celebs to create them if all you crazies out there weren’t eating them up like you do. So for all you said crazies, in case I ever become a celebrity, or just because you love me, or if you don’t love me and just like to read reviews, I am compiling McKenna Gordon’s playlist. The challenge is, my music taste is so vast (opera to metal, jazz to punk, country to classical) that my heart starts palpitating and my head swirls around when I even dream of trying to narrow everything down to a top-ten list. So I’ve decided to make several playlists: best workout songs, best love songs, best skrew the world songs.

This morning on the treadmill I was scouring through all of BBKF’s love songs, in order to come up with my top ten. Somehow I lasted an entire 45 minutes of my jog/walk/thing while listening to sappy songs that averaged approx. 12 beats per minute. Anything for you. Meanwhile, I’m feeling extra romantic, probably due to 1 part Steve doing the dishes every night this week and 1 part him dragging my ghetto bootie out of bed to go to the gym. And who ever knows what’s up with my manic hormones? That combination alone is lethal. Add to it all, I came across a newly discovered love song (thank you, Kristen; I hate you, Kristen) that caught me a bit off guard and I started crying on the treadmill. No big. Happens all the time to completely normal people!

So here’s a sneak preview of my first playlist: Top Ten Love Songs. Go iTune James Blunt’s Goodbye My Lover immediately. Listen to it after you get home from the gym so that single skinny girl doesn’t deface you in her shallow diary. (And if there’s any question in your mind after listening, my take is: she died. It’s not a break-up song.)

Sketchbook I'm Enjoying

No idea who this is but she's got soul.

Much Overdue Year In Review

Steve and I are just finishing up our third year of marriage and have never sent a Christmas or any other sort of "here's what we're up to letter". My dad likes to tell me they're annoying anyway... braggadocios, guilt-infested and whatnot. I personally like to hear what everyone's up to, although I do laugh when you're braggadocios and roll my eyes when you pontificate dogmatically.

So here's a year in review for 2005 for those of you who don't think I'm braggadocios - plus it's nice to view life in hindsight:

Happiest part of 2005
We both left a career situation that was sucking the life out of us. No amount of money is worth 80 hours per week and un-spoken guilt trips for not making it 90.

We bought ourselves a new bed for Christmas. New beds are highly underrated.

Albeit frustrating at the same time, Steve coached the 9^th grade football team again, which always gives him joy. Me too, but only when I get to tease Steve as I say (while imitating a pubescent boy) “Hi, is Coach Steve there?” and then hand him the phone.

Biggest Bummer of 2005
Steve playing semi-pro football for the Utah Wolverines would be on the previous list if it had lasted more than 3 games and a torn ACL. Surgery in May fixed it and he’s now training for season 2006.

Earth lost two amazing people: Lyn Davis and Doyle Griffith. Most readers probably didn’t notice the commotion but our Earth was left with craters. Fortunately love and good memories create a functional “putty” for now.

Biggest “Take Your Breath Away” Moment in 2005
We didn’t climb a mountain or helicopter over Kauai, which is the type of thing I immediately think of when I hear “take your breath away” (well that and running on the treadmill - something I also didn't do in 2005) but I can say if you add up all the times I thought to myself how blessed I am to have Steve in my life, and bundle them all up into one moment, I’d be gasping for air – pounding my chest and flailing my arms at you to PLEASE perform the Heimlich. Which brings me to the biggest “take your breath away” song discovered in 2005: Sarah McLachlan’s Push – a much more eloquent way of putting things.

Most Exciting in 2005
Urban Botanic! My little baby company. I wrote about it in my journal some short time after my aunt Ruth called me a “scent connoisseur”, found the journal entry a couple years ago, tweaked it enough to fit what I think our market is, pitched it to my Dad, he loved it, and Urban Botanic was born! Mostly, it’s a ton of fun and I love to hear our customers say “This is addicting!” You can’t beat a wholesome addiction!