no one ever gave Mick Jagger a cupcake

I need to brag. I'm not allowed to reveal the reason for my rights just yet, but I am so proud of my husband and the recognition he receives for being talented. He deserves it.

We've been through quite the journey together and will continue in that fashion as we make a mark on anniversary numero dos.
Although it's been part of my life for six years (and counting), it's hard to get used the lifestyle that comes with the musician who is your other half.

Some things have become familiar, but I will forever be baffled at some things fans say and do to gain attention from a band member-married or not.
Teenage hormones can rage. I know. Been there. When I was 16, all I wanted was to marry Rivers Cuomo and for our children to wear black horn-rimmed glasses. However, 16 was (get ready for a shocker) ten years ago. TEN-count that on both your hands.

Obviously the times, they are a'changing, and bands have become more accessible to fans. Through myspace, facebook, twitter, etc. etc. etc., internet stalking is at an all-time-high, and people are able to contact whomever, whenever.

I agree that musicians should be personable, but to what extent? What happened to the mystique of a band? What happened to lusting after Chris Carrabba* in your Spin magazine instead of trying to DM him your number on twitter? Muse never stands behind the merch table after a quick set at Wembley, and I'm positive no one has been able to get a batch of cookies past security at an Aerosmith concert.

It doesn't bother me when my husband takes the time to answer questions and take pictures. I think it's exceptional when fans are able to relate to music and the individuals who make/perform it. What bothers me are the few people who take advantage of this generosity and attend shows only to skank around. I only speak to a part and not the whole. There are a few bad apples who ruin it for everyone.

end scene.

*name used for the sole purpose of an example and was not actually ever an object of my affection.

you gotta get lost

I know you-yes, the one person who reads this-have been waiting with bated breath until my next update. Well, here it is.

It appears I confide in my blog upon the occurrence of a major event, and such is the case today. But I'm not feeling wordy tonight, so it goes like this:

Got a job in New Orleans, accepted it, wondered why I accepted it, cried, moved, cried, Chris left for tour, cried, started work, liked it (only two weeks in-give it time).

South Louisiana is culture shock. It's almost Yankee town down here. With the exception of my co-workers, it seems NOT ONE person in a customer service role is friendly. Food is expensive, so I don't eat. Wal-Marts aren't 24-hours. People can't drive-because I'm the only one in America that can drive properly (don't you feel that way sometimes)? And, my family isn't here.

Needless to say, I've had a case of the sads lately. The main cause of my melancholy could be the lack of my husband, but thank goodness for a wonderful mother-in-law who offered to stay an entire WEEK to keep me company and help set up our new digs. She is beyond amazing and forever grateful I will be for her and her other half.

My dear friend Rene has also helped me through and been kind enough to feed me dessert until my face is full. I certainly couldn't have made the adjustment without her assistance.

Being in a "funk" is so not my style, but I suppose it happens to us all. Right? I've never been so unsure about life in my, life. I don't know why I made the move, but I did. It's done, but it doesn't mean I can't go back home.

For now I'm here, and my only option is to make it an adventure, because "that's where you find yourself."

for reasons unknown

It's starting to seem like 2010 just ain't my year.

Let's start with the facts: Life is tough. Sometimes it's complete crap.

I have to make a decision soon that is going to redirect the course of my future and I don't know if this is going to be a huge mistake, or a huge relief. I've never been more frightened in my life.

Right now, my focus is determining which is more important to me: happiness, and quality of life, or stability and security. If it was possible to have both, I wouldn't be making a sacrifice.

Chris and I have been married for one year and eight months. Out of those 19 months, I've seen him maybe a grand total of 5 months altogether. This decision may rectify that situation, as well as fulfill my life's passion.

I know there are lives in worse shape than my own, and I am grateful for my health and for the people who surround me. But we all have our own battles and I just ask for peace, and prayers, as I fight through mine.

for the love of God

Please listen to "In These Arms" by The Swell Season (Strict Joy) and try to not get goosebumps.

"maybe I was born to hold you in these arms..."

chill.bumps.so.good.

25 and 1/2

A few random thoughts to get you through the day:

If my life had a soundtrack, it would be Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain by Yann Tiersen.

Having a pink Vespa is high on my list of priorities.

Peanut Butter Puffins is the best cereal to eat dry.

What am I doing with my life?

I need to work out.

Why did I dream about vampires last night?

I love French people.

My owl collection is a smidge unhealthy, but I'll never stop.

Chicago in the Spring?


Words cannot express how happy I am to see January 2010 come to a close. My car got hit, my job sucked, I got shingles, and my dad had a heart attack. Obviously, I'm ready for February. Things can only get better though, right?
I'm sure right now Rev Run would remind me that at least I am alive. And he is right. I love his tweets.

I have decided February is my month to start over, my month for resolutions.

But first, I'm going to have some Swedish Fish.




"Life is for livin', we all know, and I don't want to live it alone."

bye bye, birdie(s)

I came home this evening to my mom "shooing" out two birds that had found their way into our house through a Christmas wreath.

Chris and I have done nothing tonight (besides bird wrangling) except watch a marathon of America's Funniest Videos; AFV, if you will. Every clip featuring a kid doing something stupid we say that our children are going to do that, too. So I don't laugh, hoping I won't jinx it.

painting my nails with a lovely shade of grape this evening:


Just another Tuesday night at the Turner's.

In the year 2000

Guys, I haven't bloggeled since 2009. What. Is. Up.

Let's recap by describing the events of New Years Eve (NYE) and work our way backwards.



I knew the night was doomed when the cute little number I ordered from Urban Outfitters had a botched zipper. I guess it would have been in my best interest to try on the dress prior to the few minutes before we had to leave for dinner, causing me to find an uncomfortable alternative, but that's beside the point. I'm a last minute person. What's new.

After dinner at Shreveport's best kept secret, India's, we made our way to a few celebratory gatherings; but after the clock struck midnight and the new year had begun, it was time to head home. But not before my car was sideswiped by someone who had been influenced heavily by alcohol and other substances. As everyone says, "luckily, no one was injured," but that bitch really put a damper on my start to 2010.

I never made any resolutions for myself. I think it's better that way. You know, in case nothing happens then I won't be disappointed. However, I am quietly hoping that 2010 brings a few needed changes.

Christmas.

I don't usually like to brag about gifts I've received, but I'd like to take a moment and thank my husband for a lovely piece of neck jewelry from a little place I like to call T & Co. Straight from NYC.



On that note, Chris and I celebrated one whole year of marriage, Pensacola, Florida-style in August.
And no, that isn't lettuce on our cake. Just a very well-preserved green floral arrangement of some sort.



2009 was the year I saw AC/DC, New Kids on the Block (holla), Kings of Leon, and the Swell Season.

I started painting again.

I learned how to sew and made a few pillows (successfully).



I started working out in April. Slacked off in June. Picked back up in October. Slacked off after Thanksgiving. So on, so forth.
But it's a new year right? I have time to work out my flabby areas. Especially with stores already shoving bathing suits in my face. In JANUARY.

Looking forward, I can't wait to be in weddings for two of my close, very wonderful friends. Also, I'll be spending an evening with Brandi Carlile in March. Little disappointed Chris will be interrupting our intimate time together, but I guess it was his Christmas gift, after all.

I'm never good at "wrapping things up" on my blog so I always end my posts abruptly. So, big gulps huh? well, see you later.