More Marching Band Goodness!
Something to do on Saturday the 21st
I’ve mentioned before that my friend John (who puts together the music jams I sing at) has now published a book called “Bluegrass is My Second Language: A Year in the Life of an Accidental Bluegrass Musician” (that I’m in!!).
This Saturday, John’s doing a book reading — and free concert!! — at Quail Ridge books in Raleigh. Here’s the info:
Quail Ridge Books & Music invites you to a reading and free concert by John Santa
BLUEGRASS IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE
Saturday, July 21, 7:00 pmJoin John Santa for a humorous and music- filled adventure, followed by a free concert by John and friends.
I’ll be there — would love to see you too! I should also mention that the book’s a great read, and I’d thoroughly recommend it to anyone who enjoys humor or likes bluegrass or has a deep appreciation for things Southern.
10 Odd Things about me, for you, in memey goodness
IdiomSavant (who was kind enough to play trivia with me last night) tagged me with this here meme, so here goes:
Here’s how you play: Once you have been tagged, you have to write a blog with 10 weird or random things, facts, or habits about yourself. At the end, you choose 10 people to be tagged, listing their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says, “Tag, You’re it” on their profiles and ask them to read your blog. You can’t tag the person who tagged you.
- I have owned two R2D2 costumes in my life. My first, made by Dad, was in the fourth grade (and won my a Girl Scout Halloween costume competition). The second, made by me, was 20 years later and won me universal acclaim at Charlie Goodnights, back when there was still a dance club attached to it.
- I’m fussy about which seat I sit in at a restaurant table. I like to have my back to the door, but that’s not because of any Godfather-like paranoia, it’s because otherwise I won’t be able to see all the people…what if there were something *fun* going on behind me and I missed it?!Interestingly, my Dad (dtnorman) is fussy too — and with exactly the same preferences, creating a sort of race to the table when we eat together. Luckily, my Dad’s a Good Southern Gentleman, which means I get to follow the host/hostess to the table, which means I get there first. Ha!
- I throw righthanded and cartwheel lefthanded. When I throw. Or do cartwheels.Let’s just say that this one isn’t as relevant now as it was when I was five.
- I don’t like top sheets. At all. Either you tuck the top sheet in at the bottom (I am assuming no one tucks it in at the top… that would just be silly), in which case I can’t stick my feet off the bottom of the bed like I to do, or you leave it untucked at the bottom and I get all tangled in it and hot and bothered (and not in a good way).And I don’t suppose it’s any surprise that I *hate it* when the top sheet is tucked in all the way up the side of the bed — TRAPPED!!!
Hm. Don’t like sleeping bags either…. particularly not those mummy ones <shiver>
OTOH, I *love* the European method of having a bottom sheet and a duvet with a cover and letting the duvet be the top sheet (with the duvet cover getting washed on the same schedule as the bottom sheet). I was exposed to this (much more practical, IMHO) sheeting set-up when I was in France the summer after my junior year of high school (though I don’t think I adopted the system until somewhat later), and at this point I forget that most people *don’t* do it this way until I stay at someone’s house.
BTW, this does pose one problem because King sheets tend to be sold in sets more than singles. Don’t know why that is, but seems to be the case. I’ve even been known to make my own duvet covers when I could only find flat & fitted in the style I wanted.
- I revere good grammar and am quite paranoid about writing poorly. I have been known to completely rewrite paragraphs to avoid tricky bits like semi-colons (which I know how to use with words like “however” or “on the other hand” or “therefore” but which often feel odd otherwise).
(this is #6 but the number isn’t showing in the HTML and I’m tired of fussing with it)
I’m an enormous fan of “always having everything you might ever need within easy reach” (which may just be a nice way of saying I’m incredibly lazy). When I was small I used to create “packs” with all the things I anticipated needing during the course of my day: crayons, paper, scissors, paste, Snoopy, books (Ms. Piggle Wiggle was a favorite) and snack, etc. All the goodies would go into an old-fashioned carry on bag and I’d tote them around all day.In my current life this is most obvious in the prevalence of lipglosses… one by sofa, one by bed, one at desk, two in purse, [heaven only knows how many in bathroom], one in car, etc.
- Jeremy is my favorite boy name. I think that’s because of The Jeremy Mouse Book, which is now out-of-print and for which I paid $100 from a used bookseller. I *really* liked that book.

- Everyone should have one body part (of their own) that they really do love (OK, preferably I’m sure we’d love all of our 2000 parts, but that’s just a soap commercial talking): I love my feet. I have tiny, cute feet.
- I almost always sit with my legs crossed or one leg tucked up under me. Even now, at my nice, ergonomic, home desk chair, I am sitting “Indian style” criss-cross applesauce (this is the term all the young kids are using these days, I’m told.
- My dream job would be to be a public speaker (not with, you know, a plan and everything… more like “get paid to talk to people randomly”) or maybe a professional party guest.
Here’s who I tag:
- thebroomecloset
- Sarah
- dtnorman (won’t do it, but worth a shot)
- endersjewel
- fmi_agent
- jhvilas
- curvyart
- jklgoduke
- laurahcory
- Sarah (but a different Sarah)
A bit I’m proud of…
My family are photographers (verb agreement seems odd there, but…). Both my Grandpa and my Dad (dtnorman) were (/are) amazing with a camera and I’ve always hoped that one day I’d be able to shoot at the level they did (/do).
It was, therefore, incredibly thrilling to me to be able to shoot an event, CrownBeat, with my Dad, as an actual “accomplice” team member.
CrownBeat is one of the major competitions of the the Carolina Crown Drum & Bugle Corps Competition — incredibly intense 14-18 year olds marching around in complex patterns while playing instruments (needless to say, as someone who has trouble walking and chewing gum at the same time, this is pretty amazing to me).
I have to say I’m actually proud of my pictures. Here’s a few in particular I liked — mostly unretouched at this point, and watermarked, of course (click to embiggen)
(The whole shebang are at Dad’s Quality Impressions Photography site, here.
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
Is it bad that I use my puppy as a portable wet vac?
I just lifted the pup off the floor so she could lick up a little milk I spilled on the arm of my desk chair at home. Is that a bad thing…?
Home again, home again
I’ve just gotten home from five days at DeBordieu with my roommate from high school, her husband, their two children, a good friend from high school, his wife (artykim), their two children, and another couple (who have also become friends) and their (single) child (1).
Kudos to all you parent-people. They (the littles) are VERY energy consuming (and I think I might be a wee bit lazy).
The weather couldn’t have been nicer and I got more than my share of lounging-on-the-beach-time (without, for a change, getting completely lobsterfied). Read two grown-up books, two People magazines, one O magazine and several children’s books (and think I’m going to buy the Lemony Snicket series for myself). Frolicked in the ocean and in the pool (2). Walked many miles on the beach. Got a blister the size of a dime on the bottom of my foot (3).
Rode nine (!!) miles on a bike. One of those was with a flat tire. Yes, that wasn’t very bright, but honestly I didn’t know the thing’d gone flat. The thinking went something like “Well, Gina, of course it’s getting harder to pedal. You just rode more than six miles, three of which were on a fire road/carriage path, on an old-skool, gearless (and somewhat rusty) bike. You can do it! Keep pedaling!” Eventually, though, my pep talk failed and I climbed off, only to find that the rear tire was as flat as the proverbial pancake.
Whoops. I suppose that would be the problem. Mr. Nice Security Man came by just a minute or so afterwards, fortunately, and he was kind enough to load the bike in the back of his pickup truck and take me the last two blocks home.
Napped. A lot. Also was able to sleep significantly later than all the parental units (see above, re: Hard Work Involved In Child Raising).
We also ate far better than I’m accustomed to eating, as generally I eat whatever’s leftover from the last time I ate dinner out (which I also do far too often). At the beach we had lasagna (veggie — and delicious!), baked chicken, panzanella, fresh vegetables, etc. etc. Well balanced — and tasty — meals.
The strange thing (and the only part of this post that’s even a tiny bit profound) was the juxtaposition of remembering these sort of trips from my childhood — when I thought “Ah, someday that’ll be me” — and actually *being me* in one of these sort of trips. A bunch of families at the beach with their kids…everyone playing in the ocean…and I’m one of the adults (chronologically speaking, anyway)!
(1) Whew. For anyone counting that’s 5 children, all under the age of 7. Though they all were pretty darn well-behaved, that’s still 5 children more than I’m used to dealing with for more than an hour or two at a time.
(2) I am part dolphin, I think. I float beautifully (no comments from the peanut gallery, please). I love swimming underwater and flipping over waves.
The sand and salt I like less well. Basically I want a wave pool the size of the Atlantic.
(3) From *sand*!! I know I say I’m a Delicate Southern Flower (from a ease-of-skin-damage POV at any rate), but this is ridiculous.
Finally — I pull my weight
I’m pretty much deadweight in trivia (which I play most every Tuesday)… anything I know is usually science (and those questions are *stupid easy*!) or it’s pop culture (and it’s the sort that anyone our age knows) or it’s ..well, I guess those are the only ones I usually know. I’m hopeless at history or geography or sports (except for the fact that I know Naismith invented basketball…that’s my lone sports-related trivia [Jerry, that was for you, as I believe you were at that game]. Trivium?)
Tonight the Trivia Gods smiled upon me! The “picture round” was shoe types!!! 10 out of 10 for Gina! (For the whole team really, but I answered them all — normally I’m lucky if I get one per round). I can’t even begin to tell you how thrilling it was to be able to *know* something for a change.
FYI, they were:
- Slingback sandal
- Thong
- Espadrille
- moccasins
- slingback pump
- hiking boots
- oxford
- chukka boots
- ballet flats
- t-strap
What’s in a Name?
Or, more accurately, what’s your name in?
Last night, I experienced something for the first time that is probably “old hat” to almost everyone else…
In the movie Waitress (1), the main character’s name is “Jenna” — spelled incorrectly, but pronounced the same as mine.
Now, normally, if someone’s saying Jenna, they’re meaning me (2), so during the first thirty minutes of the movie every time another character said “Jenna, you really need to …” or “Hurry up now, Jenna” or “Jenna, where’s that pie?” (3) I did a little cartoon double-take (4).
For those of you with more popular names (Mike, John, Anne, Jennifer, etc.), do you still do this (the little double-take thing)? Did you ever? If you did once, but you don’t anymore, do you remember what movie/show/party/school classmade made you stop?
(1) Good movie. Highly recommended.
(2) If they’re saying “Geena” they’re probably also meaning me, but they probably don’t know me all that well and I might ignore them.
(3) Which they did *a lot* in the movie. Or maybe I was oversensitive? Sanity check on that one?
(4) It probably didn’t help that the movie was set in the (unspecified) South, so they sounded like people I’d know too.
Stories & truths
There are a lot of things that I say about myself that — in my head, over a long, long span of time — have become somewhat apocryphal. The allergies thing was a good example of that … I’d spent so long telling people that I had atrocious allergies that I’d started to believe I was exaggerating. Going back to the allergist and hearing him say that I really do have some of the worst allergies he’s seen reminded me that things I’ve said about my allergies were’t exaggerated for the point of good story-telling (not that I don’t do that too), but were, in fact, grounded in reality. (Oh, the shock).
I had another one of those things happen last night. I tell people I have a distinctive laugh (in fact, I think it’s been part of my personals ads), but again, over time I’d come to think of that as an overstatement … based on comments people had made, sure, but not necessarily “reality.”
There do exist some old recordings of shows (in very tiny venues) where there’s lots of back and forth banter and audience participation and whatnot and you *can* hear my laugh in those. But in the past several years I’d written that off as bad data, in that the people who were telling me this were good friends who, of course, would recognize my laugh… I could recognize theirs in the same sessions, so no biggie, right?
One of those shows was by Tim Easton, perhaps my most favorite singer/songerwriter ever. I had a chance to go see him last night (for the first time in three years, probably?), and I was surprised, amazed and pleased as punch when, post-show, Tim came out to talk to folks, spotted me, smiled and said: “There you are! I could hear you laugh and was so glad you were here!”




























