Kenny Loggins is always essential.

When I was a little girl, there were two things that I was excessively proud of. My super cool dance moves and that I could sing every word of Footloose. I remember beaming with pride every time Footloose came on the radio because I thought it was a really difficult song to remember the words to and I nailed it every time. I’m pretty sure no one else noticed, but to me, it seemed like being able to do that proved I was super cool. To this very day, when I hear Footloose on the radio, I can feel that same pride welling up inside me and I sing my heart out without shame or consideration for the other people around me.

In addition to the song Footloose, I also had a deep and undying love for the song Danger Zone from Top Gun. In fact, I had such a love of that song that I frequently tried to choreograph a dance to it. Again, I was very proud of my super cool dance moves. I can think of more than one occasion when I got out my tape player, popped in Danger Zone and spent the next thirty minutes trying to think of how Paula Abdul, New Kids on the Block, and Michael Jackson would dance to it. Then, I would add a few of my own moves like wild jazz hands or awkward hip shaking and put it all together. It was dance magic but unfortunately, no evidence of this exists. Probably because my parents were really jealous of how awesome I was. I also remember thinking that Goose and Maverick would totally approve of my Danger Zone dance.

Clearly, I owe a debt of gratitude to Kenny Loggins who was directly responsible for my proudest childhood moments. Thanks Kenny, this one is for you.

I have some shocking news folks: I’m not a natural blonde. I’ll pause for gasps.

Composed yourselves? Good. I know that was quite a shock but you needed to hear it because it’s relevant to my story. So, I’ve only gone blonde in the last 9 months or so. It was something I thought and worried a lot about. I know it seems really silly to worry about something like that but I did. So sue me. My chief worry was that I would go blonde, meet the man of my dreams, and then have to be blonde forever because he had never seen me as my natural brunette. And going and staying blonde is expensive y’all so I was worried being blonde forever would take quite the toll on my bank account. I confessed my fears about going blonde to my friends and they convinced me I was being ridiculous, “Go blonde!” they said, “Don’t worry about it!” they said. So I did go blonde and I quite liked it and all was well until BAM my prediction came true and I DID meet the man of my dreams.

Obviously, I can kind-of tell the future and that’s pretty awesome. The questions is, what do I do with this newfound power? I mean, should I start charging people to tell them what I think might happen? Should I pitch my life as a new reality TV show called “Pseudo-Psychic”? OR…wait for it….what if I’m not really psychic but I have a special power that when I say things they come true? What if I made meeting my boyfriend happen by just saying it out loud? I mean, I literally said “I’m going to go blonde and then meet the man of my dreams.” and then it happened y’all. It happened.

I think I just need to take some time and figure out what all this means. I mean, sure it could be a coincidence but that would be too logical for me. I need the nonsensical explanation, which is that I am either a psychic or have some sort of power to control events by merely saying what I think will happen. Or you know, I just accidentally fell into that one. Either way, maybe pay me to tell you what I think is going to happen in your life. That would be neat.

Like this. But not as sexy.

The other day, I was walking into my office building and had my computer bag and purse slung across my shoulder. As I was walking in, two men ahead of me opened the door and stood aside so I could walk in the building first. It was very chivalrous. I did notice, however, that they had been chatting quite a bit before and now that I was walking in front of them had completely ceased talking. Curious. We all got in the elevator together and there was a very awkward and tense silence until they got off on the third floor. Curiouser.

I couldn’t imagine what had made those men stop talking so suddenly. Did they have an argument and were now giving each other the silent treatment? Had one of them said something so offensive as to render the other speechless? Were they playing the quiet game? It wasn’t until I reached my floor and stepped out of the elevator that I realized what had caused them to remain silent. I caught my reflection in the glass windows of my office door and realized my bags had apparently caught the edge of my skirt when I slung them over my shoulder and my entire right bum was exposed. I mean, not entirely exposed because I had on underwear but those guys definitely got a look at my bum.

Another humiliating win for Girl on the Contrary.

There is a completely awesome Twitter account that I follow called @RealTimeWWII, which live tweets WWII as it happened day by day from 1940-1945. I am a giant history nerd and am absolutely infatuated with this twitter account. If y’all are on the Twitter, I suggest you follow it. You needed to know about @RealTimeWWII because it’s awesome but also because it’s relevant to the story I need to tell you.

This is a cautionary tale. You would be wise to learn from it.

The other day, I was skimming quickly through my Twitter feed and noticed this tweet: : “USA protesting British warships detaining its cruise liners at Gibraltar; UK insists it’s necessary to enforce blockade on Germany“. These are my paraphrased thoughts after reading it.

Oh no. Oh no. This is really bad. When did the UK put a blockade on Germany? How did I miss this? What could have led up to this? I don’t recall reading anything in the news about it and I read BBC news, surely they would have included something about a UK blockade on Germany in the news. I just don’t understand how I missed something so major. This is really, really bad.  It’s like WWII all over again. Oh……oh wait. What Twitter account am I looking at? Oh. Oh I see. It *is* WWII. Whew. That’s a relief. Ok heart, you can stop racing now. Crises averted. Or, you know, crises passed because it was all well over before I was even born. Sheesh. I really need to pay better attention to what I’m reading on this thing. 

Y’all. I literally started having a panic attack based on something that happened in 1939 because I thought it was happening now. It really makes you think about how we’re all just driving like bats out of hell through life and maybe it would be better if we just slowed down every once in a while and paid better attention to what we’re reading on Twitter.

Last night, I went to see The Civil Wars play live at the Paramount theater in Austin, which happens to be one of my favorite places, and once again it was STUNNING.  Some of you may remember that I first saw The Civil Wars play last July in Austin and I was put under an absolute spell by their music. Their album, Barton Hollow is an amazing album (one of my top albums of all time in fact) but to hear them live is on a completely different level of mind-blowing. After hearing them live the first time, I was positively overjoyed. After last night, I am euphoric.

Typically, I don’t like to go see the same band within months of already having seen them. I’ve found it to be disappointing because there is rarely new music and the second time just can’t compare with the ecstasy of the first. The Civil Wars, however, completely demolished that way of thinking for me last night. I was just as blissfully overwhelmed by their music last night, as I was the first time I saw them.  And, I finally bought their album on vinyl and it is total musical heaven.

One of the biggest surprises of the evening was the opening act called The Staves. Look them up people. I was absolutely floored by their impeccable harmonies and lovely melodies. They were flawless y’all. Flawless. Also there was a ukulele involved so I was pretty happy about that. 

Last night was pure musical bliss. May I recommend you get some as well? It really warms the heart and puts a smile on your brain.

Someone called me “unyielding” recently and the first thing that popped into my head was the scene in Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows where Ollivander holds Bellatrix Lestrange’s wand in his hand and describes it as “unyielding”.  Obviously, I’m concerned about this. What if I am, in fact, Bellatrix Lestrange?

On the one hand, she’s a really bad person who takes pleasure in causing pain and suffering. On the other hand, she is a witch and totally got to go to Hogwarts so………..it’s really hard for me to decide how I feel about this new development in my life.  I’m just going to let you, my internet consciouses, decide for me. Please give it the serious consideration it’s due.

The other day, I was just laying around with my boyfriend (who is a complete dreamboat and not even imaginary) eating SweetTarts because about 75% of my diet is made up of candy. I popped a blue flavored SweetTart into my mouth and promptly managed to start choking on it. Most people say that when you’re about to die, your life flashes before your eyes. That didn’t happen to me but I sort of wish it did because I bet it would be a really funny movie. Instead of recalling bit of my hilarious and happy life, all I could think was “But blue isn’t even my favorite flavor, I can’t die eating a blue SweetTart, that doesn’t even make sense.” And that’s true because purple is my favorite SweetTart flavor and would definitely be my flavor choice in a SweetTart death scenario. That way, at my funeral people could say “Well, at least she died eating her favorite flavored SweetTart.” and I think it would help them with their grieving.

But, I didn’t die eating a blue flavored SweetTart. I managed to dislodge it in less than a second and it’s a good thing too because my boyfriend was about to heimlich the hell out of me. Once I realized I was A-ok, I couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably for about 5 minutes because how weird would it be to die while eating a blue flavored SweetTart?

My boyfriend didn’t think it was as funny, but that’s probably just because he didn’t know it was a blue SweetTart I choked on.

So, I got this email a few days ago.

Dear Girl on the Contrary,

 Why are you so obsessed with the apocalypse? Are you a member of a cult?

 Sincerely,

 That Guy.  (I changed the name for a couple reasons but mainly because I’m not sure this person doesn’t work for the government and isn’t investigating me because I’m on some sort of watch list and I really don’t need to upset them any further than I already have.)

Obviously, I need to respond to this.

Dear That Guy,

 Thank you for your strange email. Strange emails are my favorite! Although that in no way indicates I’m a part of strange and possibly illegal activities- perhaps I should have used the word “random” that seems less suspicious, right? Are you investigating me? I think you have to tell me if you are. I don’t know for sure but I heard that in a movie and so it’s probably true. I would feel a lot more at ease if I knew why you were asking me these questions. For the record, if you are investigating me, I hope it’s been really fun and maybe made you laugh but not resulted in anything you can actually ship me off to secret prison for.

 I wouldn’t say I’m obsessed with the apocalypse. Obsessed is an awfully strong word. I would say I was very interested and well prepared for the apocalypse. That seems a smidge less insane. The reason why I fret about the apocalypse and try my best to prepare for it is completely logical and not at all crazy. My reasoning (and it’s pretty flawless) is this: If I’m well prepared for an apocalypse, then I’m well prepared for just about anything. See? Flawless logic.

 Think about it. In my emergency apocalypse kit, I have everything I will probably need to survive an apocalypse but at the same time I also have everything I would need to survive a tornado, earthquake, hurricane, tsunami, volcanic eruption, nuclear winter, drought, blackouts, or dull weekends. By preparing for the apocalypse, which I think we can all agree is a worst case scenario, I’m also preparing for all the still really bad but less than worst case scenarios. Yay me! And just for the record, most of those natural disasters can and have happened in Texas so basically, just living in Texas goes a long way in preparing me for an apocalypse (especially if it’s a really hot apocalypse).

 To answer your other question, no, I’m not in a cult. In fact, I’ve read a lot of books and watched a lot of documentaries about cults so that I can never be tricked or manipulated into being in one. I am prepared not only to survive an apocalypse but also to resist the deceptive lure of a cult. I even have my cult declining statement prepared: “No, thank you. I would not like to be in your cult. But I wish you the best in your future endeavors as long as they don’t involve mass suicide. “ See? I’m totally prepared to not be in a cult.

Wishing you a life filled with lots of candy and imaginary friends,

 Girl on the Contrary

Apparently, I do this now. So, you know, feel free to jump on it and send me your most pressing questions.

In other news, I totally love this show!

Sorry for the late post today dearies. I wish I had a really good story about why this post is late, like I was taming lions or learning how to freeze time, but if anything the story is lame and embarrassing, which means, of course, I’m going to share it with you.

Last night, I had dinner with my darling and ever so spectacular friend Mary. And at this lovely dinner Mary told me a story. She told me a story about a girl who doesn’t live all that far away from me in Austin who was murdered on New Year’s Eve in her home. The story was very sad and very scary especially since it seemed the girl has taken every precaution to be safe that night. And they have no idea who could have done it and they think the same person who murdered her also attacked another woman that night. Also, the girl who was murdered was my age and lived alone. I’m my age and live alone too, so the story hit a little close to home. Later, after I dropped Mary off and was returning to my home- alone- I felt a little creeped out, so I grabbed my purse out of my car and practically ran up the three flights of stairs to get to my apartment. Once there, I locked the doors, checked that I locked the doors about 5 times, and then pulled out my trusty baseball bat, just in case. Then, I got ready for bed and was mentally writing my blog post for today when I realized that in my haste to lock myself in my apartment, I had left my laptop in the trunk of my car. I was faced with a dilemma, dear readers, I could either face the scary murderer I was sure was lurking around my gated apartment community and retrieve my laptop, or I could stay safely locked in my apartment with my baseball bat close by and write a blog later.

So, I guess you know which I chose. My overactive imagination (or, you know, paranoia) got the better of me. Please don’t think the worse of me for it. I mean, if I had gotten murdered I wouldn’t be able to blog again ever, so really, I was thinking of you.

Is there such a thing as too much vitamin-C? Like, at what point have I had too much. Didn’t Oprah and Dr. Oz do a show about this or maybe it was in one of the shows or maybe I read it in a magazine while watching Oprah. All I know if I just feel really sure Oprah is involved somehow. I bet Oprah would really like my new record player. It has a gramophone for goodness sakes! Although, you know what? I bet she wouldn’t because I really doubt she and I have the same taste and that’s a shame because everyone should like gramophones. I really like antiques. Also, I think the word antique looks really pretty written in cursive. Mostly, I just really like writing in cursive but that’s probably because people think my print is illegible. Thanks a lot public school system. Ahhhh! Alien movie on TV! It’s like the other day when I went to see Sherlock Holmes and four of the previews were for alien movies and even though I don’t think Steven Spielberg is directly responsible for them, I know he’s behind it. That guy really has it out for me. I wonder if I really am possessed by a ghost? Because it seems like you wouldn’t even know you’re possessed and certainly couldn’t write a blog while being possessed. I mean, what would a ghost care about a blog? It would still be cool if the ghostbusters came though because Dan Aykroyd  really puts a smile on my face…………Whoa! Did I just fall asleep? Did I write this in my sleep?? I don’t even know anymore. 

I probably owe you guys an apology for this post but I’m not sure because I’m still foggy from the medicine/ghost possession. I’ll re-read this when I feel better and issue an official apology then.