Stumbled across this song the other day. I am shocked it isn’t well known.
It made us think of you.
We miss you still.
Stumbled across this song the other day. I am shocked it isn’t well known.
It made us think of you.
We miss you still.
Firstly, I have to admit that my keyboard is broken, and I have yet to leave the house to get a new laptop, or just a new keyboard, so here you will find me typing out numbers and seeming very deadpan, as it is just the top numbers and symbols that do not work. I could win the lottery and post about it, and it will look like this:
I won the lottery. Yay.
So, if I come off as very bored, now you know why. I promise, eventually I will get out and get a new one, or at least order one from amazon.
Back to the original point.
Night in the Woods. Holy crap. What can I say about this game that hasn’t already been said? I finally finished it up, and I couldn’t be more satisfied with a game. Now, I will do my best to leave out any spoilers, so if you have yet to play it and don’t want anything spoiled, it is best you leave now.
The game centers on Mae Borowski as our playable character. She is a pansexual, college dropout.
Mae comes home to have a “return to normalcy” so to speak, only to find out everything and everyone, including her friends in Possum Springs, have changed. Her friends include a hyperactive fox named Greggory, Greg’s boyfriend, a large bear named Angus, and a gothic crocodile named Bea.
You spend the majority of this game hanging out with your friends, and when you just say that, it sounds boring, but it’s not. These characters are very deep, and incredibly interesting, and I have to admit that there is a certain scene with Gregg in the woods that brought on the tear factor. You really find yourself feeling bad for all of them, as they all have their own problems, and to top it all off, you find yourself identifying with them. Me? I am totally Bea, minus dressing in all black.
The center of the game revolves around solving a big mystery. The answer to this mystery is a death cult of dads.
I think what I really enjoyed about this is that it is a “coming of age” game, but not in the way one expects a coming of age anything to be. When most people hear that term, they think “Blue Lagoon” type stuff, with the growth from children to teenagers, etc. This is a coming of age from teenager to adult, and learning that nothing ever stays the same. The childlike innocence that we all go through and pine for will always turn into adult problems. Nothing ever stays the same.
To hammer home this point, and by far my favorite part of the game, is the music. I have no idea who did the music for the game, and I really should look into it, because this person is talented. There wasn’t one moment in the game where I felt the music was out of place. There were plenty of moments where the music tugged at your soul and fit so well, one can’t help but tear up.
There is a scene with Gregg out in the woods, and he and Mae are talking about his past. The music here, which I will link, was beautifully done, and even listening to it outside of the game, one will find themselves reminiscing a time long since passed. I certainly did. It made me long for the days when I was young, and would play with my sister and cousins up in my grandparents’ woods, back when life was easy. Since then both grandparents have passed on, and I at age thirty-three, am the youngest of the cousins. Time really does go by too fast, and before you know it, it’s all over.
In all honesty, and this is a huge thing for me to say, but I would put the music of this game right up there with Chrono Trigger.
I said it.
That’s huge, because Chrono Trigger is one of the best games ever made, and the consensus is that the music from the game is top notch.
I am not saying the music from Night in the Woods is better, but it is definitely right up there with one of the all-time greats.
Should you find yourself wanting a different kind of game, definitely give this one a shot. You’ll laugh. You’ll tear up, and when it’s over, you’ll feel a big sense of satisfaction, with a slight hole in your soul because you wish there were more. It’s definitely a game where you leave feeling like you know the characters on a personal level. They almost feel real.
And in a sense, they are, because you will see yourself and your friends in these characters. Even though they are walking, talking animals, they are the most human characters I have seen in a game, in such a long time.
And coming from my old ass, that says a lot.
It’s the first day of my least favorite season. I hate Winter. I hate the cold. I hate the snow. I also fully believe that anybody who likes these things cannot be trusted. So now, my countdown is on to the first day of Spring.
Where I live, we seem to get the worst Winter weather in late January into February. Rarely do we get snow in March, so I have about two months to go until the weather starts getting better, however, come Christmas day, the temperature is supposed to be in the sixties. That’s wonderful, and that makes me happy.
I know, dry your eyes, you who wanted a White Christmas. You’ll survive.
Secondly, the best thing has happened to be this year. I got Christmas over with. Yes, I am done with it. I handed out all presents, including my children’s, early! This means Christmas will be “just another day” for me, unless some of my friends choose to bring me shit on that day, despite my saying I don’t want anything.
My children received most of what they wanted and they cannot complain. Especially my youngest. I sent some packages off back in February (international) and one of them was returned. It was the one with a Thresh jacket from League of Legends, which my son enjoyed for a while, but has since moved on to more adult games.The jacket, however, was pretty bad ass, and he wanted it. The recipient truly doesn’t deserve it, but I being the “nice” girl I am, sent it anyways because it was purchased for them. With it back in my hands, I gave it to my son.
Finally, before I go– to the person who sent me a message that said, “Hey… Rebecca how are you.” Your profile needs to be verified. I don’t know who sent this, but I have a pretty good idea, and your answer is, I am just fine. I couldn’t be better. Most likely, we have nothing to speak about. So, don’t waste your time. You’re blocked for a reason. 🙂
And finally, I leave you with this. Did you know that I just recently found out that this song was originally done by Simon and Garfunkel? I didn’t know. I thought it was a Bangles song.
Enjoy the first day of Winter, people, because God knows I won’t.
Thirteen years ago today (truly, it doesn’t sound right when I say it. Thirteen years? Bloody hell.) I was in the hospital, after having been induced, feeling a little like a celebrity. So many people were there including: My grandpa (god rest his soul), my father, my mother, my sister, my now ex-husband, my cousin (who had never seen a vaginal delivery, despite having three children. Hers were all c-section, and she had asked me if she could sit in. I told her yes, because, why not?) and my cousin’s cousin!
Long about 8:00 in the evening, I came out of a Stadol induced haze. My labor pains earlier had gotten quite bad, enough that I asked for drugs, and drugs I got! By this time my grandfather and uncle had gone home, but most everyone else was still there. I sat up and looked at my mother and said, “I think I have to take a shit.”
My mother leans down and says, “What?”
I repeat, with a little more gusto than a whisper from being on drugs all day, “I HAVE TO SHIT!”
My mother pauses for a nanosecond, and then her eyes widen and she tells me, “No! Don’t shit! [J.Theberge’s father] Get the doctor!”
My dad, who had been mulling around most of the day, getting the food and drink for people looked up and said, “huh? Why?”
Then my mother said those words to him, “SHE HAS TO SHIT!” (mind you, my mother is currently a near 40 year RN, so she knows exactly what she’s doing, and talking about. She was merely repeating what I had said.)
My father and now ex-husband rush from the room, barking as they rushed down the hallway, saying that we needed the doctor nowt because the baby was coming.
Finally, he gets in there, and I remember complaining that the man had huge, “sausage fingers.” It was quite exhausting, and at one point I had my sister and ex-husband holding onto a leg while I pushed.
At 8:25 a little bundle of child came flying into the world (The doctor stood on the other side of the room with a catcher’s mitt. Don’t believe me? 😉 ) and they threw him onto my lap (bloody and gross) whilst I delivered the afterbirth, which I did NOT eat, and I did NOT take home with me (you gross people). It was promptly put into a biohazard bag and disposed of.
I also clamped the cord. Oh the horror, eh?
I also had more stitches than Buford Pusser (Thank you Jeff Foxworthy. I did not understand that joke when I was a wee one. As an adult who has popped out other humans, I totally get it.)
This has been the labor and delivery story of my firstborn. I’ve noticed those are quite popular online anymore, because people think (for some strange reason) that they are magical, rainbows and cupcakes moments, that somehow make me a primordial earth goddess of womanhood (only if I do it the *RIGHT* way. In a hospital? WITH DRUGS? NOT EATING THE PLACENTA? CLAMPING THE CORD?! NO SKIN TO SKIN IMMEDIATELY? OMG, I should have just tossed the kid into the orphanage because that was not the *RIGHT* way.)
I also didn’t breastfeed. 🙂 (Oh yeah, jump all down my throat about how every bit of what I did was wrong, and if I had only done it the *RIGHT* way, I would be deserving of a medal, and it would have been a magical moment.)
Natural birthers, lactivists… some of the worst bunch to ever grace the internet.
Anyways, a wonderful, happy birthday to my TEENAGER. I have a TEENAGER. Jesus, where did the time go? The next time I blink, he will be an adult. I don’t like this. I don’t like aging, and I don’t enjoy my children growing so fast, however, tis a part of life.
God, I just realized, I grow closer to being a grandparent every day.
Remind me to have their father explain why condoms are great. I refuse to be a grandmother before I hit 40.
But then I could be a GILF, so it’s a win-win either way.
I dedicate this song to you, my teenaged son that acts just like me. I’m sure my mother is still trying to figure out how to be a fly on the wall.
It’s the sixteenth. This will be the shittiest day of the month for me for a while.
Back in February, I had a death of a relative that was very close to me, and needless to say, I do not do well with a loss of any sorts.
But a few months ago, I had a dream I was in their house, and nobody else was there. It was just me, and it was so quiet. I was looking for something of theirs to take with me to “remember” them by, and finally, I went to put my shoes on to leave, and I was quite upset.
Then the radio started playing on its own. The song was “Let That Pony Run” by Pam Tillis. Anybody who knows country may think this is an odd song, but it wasn’t, because it was just the chorus that started playing.
“You do what you gotta do, and you know what you know, you hang on, til you can’t hang on, then you learn to let go…”
I fully believe that he came to me in my dream to try and help me move on.
There was another song that played, and the title isn’t subtle at all. I think it was the title alone, “Letting Go” by Suzy Bogguss.
It’s been several months, and I am still working on letting go. The good news is that I smile more than I cry now when I think of them.
Eventually, I’ll get to where it’s nothing but smiles.
Until then, I’ll never forget you guys, and will keep you very close to my heart until we meet again.
I am a layman when it comes to music. I don’t pretend to know any more than I do. I used to “coach” people, and by that I mean help people sing a little better by saying, “no, breath like this,” among other things. I don’t know much about notes. I can’t read music. Compared to the rest of my family, I am not very talented. They can all play every instrument you can name, sing, read music, write songs, etc. I got a pretty decent singing voice, but lately, it’s not very good. I’m aging and combine that with smoking for years, and I sound like Tom Waits on estrogen.
That being said, I am a very harsh critic when it comes to television singing competitions. It takes a lot to please me. I will nitpick the hell out of people’s singing, when truly I haven’t much room to talk. In fact, it’s pretty rare when I watch things like The Voice and truly get floored by a contestant. That has only happened ONCE in the past three years.
Cody Wickline. Jesus Christ, that boy is good. Seriously, he picked a song so many people try to sing (and usually fail) and practically channeled the artist. It was phenomenal. If you somehow missed it, here you go.
Most country fans will tell you, that was phenomenal. I have no complaints about that. I may have become his biggest fan, and I’m not a huge country fan. I listen to everything, but country isn’t on the top of my list.
That being said, there are some songs you just shouldn’t do, and if you do them and fail, I will have a pretty big bone to pick with you. I like it when the contestants take risks, but if you’ve got a vocal range like mine (F2-C5), even if you sound good, don’t go in trying to sing “Alone” by Heart. For God’s sake, just don’t. You will fail, and it will piss me off. To me, this is one of the hardest songs to pull off. You have to have the right range, the right weight, the right type and then on top of that there’s all of that belting.
Now, I will leave out all opera songs in this list. ( Did I say list? It’s not really a list.) It’s just me bitching, as usual. That’s a no-brainer on you have to have just the right vocal talent in order to do it.
Then there are the people who come in wielding any Whitney Houston song in history. All I have to say to that is YOU are not Whitney. You do not sound like her. Even if you had the range, and the weight, I doubt you have the control over the belting that she does (I’m a layman. I never claimed to be a pro). I’m not even going to link a Whitney Houston song, because you all know which one I am talking about. (Here’s a hint: Dolly Parton was the original singer, and she did quite good. Excellent in fact, but you aren’t either one of them. Besides, Dolly has a very unique voice.)
Or people come in thinking they can do Celine Dion. You may be able to do the song (why would you want to though) but you don’t have that power.
But that’s not even the hardest Celine song to do. I tell you, I heard someone try this next one at karaoke one night, and Jesus. I nearly left. I nearly threw a bottle of Jack Daniels at her head.
Here’s another singing tip, alcohol doesn’t do you any favors. It doesn’t. It only helps if you’re Tom waits, which if you have somehow missed out on him, give him a listen. He has several interesting songs, and a terrible voice, but it somehow works. See, I’m not saying you have to have a perfect voice to do any singing. That’s not true at all. You just have to know what works for your voice, because you can’t sing everything.
No, that’s not the cookie monster. That’s actually Tom Waits singing. I just thought the video was less creepy than Tom walking around a weird fun house on paint stilts with bubbles and emu’s running around.
Again, these songs are ones that I fully believe you must do correctly. You best nail every aspect of that song or people like me will point at you and say mean things. Your voice isn’t perfect, but with the right techniques and the proper songs, you can sound great, and you don’t have to tear your voice up.
I leave you with two songs by one group and that group is JOURNEY! Believe it or not, Faithfully is pretty hard to sing along to, but they have ONE song that it doesn’t matter how shitty your voice is, everyone sounds just fine singing. In fact, every single one of you have belted this out in strange places when it came on.
I was in the car once with three men, and these guys are pretty big guys. Think big, bearded bikers. Anyways, this song came on, and of course we all start singing. Even when we stopped at the light, we kept singing. The people next to us? They started singing.
I think Journey could be the way to end all wars. Just put it on a gigantic loudspeaker. Everyone will stop to sing.
I blame Glee.
EDIT: I forgot about being floored by Collabro’s audition on Britains Got Talent in 2014. My eyes got a little misty, it was that good.
I met a flight attendant who’s name was Amy.
“Off the Deep End,” anybody?
Am I so old that I connected these things in my head?
Listen up you younguns, back in 1992, a man known as “Weird” Al Yankovic put out a parody album (This one was his SEVENTH) called “Off the Deep End.” On this album, there were plenty of parodies of well-known bands, like Nirvana! Surely, you have heard “Smells like Nirvana,” correct? If not here you go:
On this same album was a song called, “Trigger Happy,” that I particularly enjoy singing when the topic of gun rights come up.
Weird Al had a lot of songs. I actually have a story involving my awesome former OBGYN. I was scheduled for a c-section with my last pregnancy, and I was prepped for surgery. My amazing OBGYN comes walking in and starts talking to me about the usual surgery stuff. When he gets behind the curtain, before touching anything, I suddenly hear him, “Let me see, that IV, here we go, time to operate, I’ll pull her insides out… I’ll pull her insides out and see what she ate!! Like a surgeon…”
This is a good time to mention that my OBGYN and I had a great relationship. He was one of the best doctors I have ever had, and I owe him one of my children’s life. He and his wife were really good people. So don’t go whining about how that’s horrible. I thought it was hilarious, and it put me more at ease about having my gut sawed into.
The point of this, is when you are a huge fan of Weird Al, and you grew up with his music (I grew up with ALL THE MUSIC) and you know every song, when you meet a flight attendant named Amy, his song “Airline Amy” will pop into your head. Thankfully, she was aware of the song when I looked at her and said, “My mission is to get you in an upright, locked position!”
If you don’t know who Weird Al is, and I don’t see how you could not have heard anything by him, considering he’s been at it for over thirty years!
And on that note, I leave you with this, youngsters.