In order to see me, you must...

...floss.  At least once.  EVERYDAY.
...bathe.  At least once.  EVERYDAY.
...like music.  On the regular.  And live.
...be responsible for yourself.
...read.  Not just know how, but enjoy it.

...love dogs.  They will always be around.

...NOT have small children.  Or an ex-wife who has been an ex- for less than two years.

...NOT drink to the point of stupidity. 

...like to hike.  But I do not camp.

...not be some psycho-jealous-everyone-I-hug-or-kiss-on-the-cheek-is-a-threat-to-you type. 

...be goal-oriented.

...like to socialize.  With my friends, your friends, all people.

...like to just hang out in silence.

...be smart.

...eat healthy.

...enjoy junkfood.  Sporatically.

...like sports.  Playing and watching.

...be an adult. In actions.

...enjoy goofing off.

...like adventure.
...respect my independence. 

I'm making this list.  This is the beginning of it.  I've decided that it would be a fun little experiment to join a dating site.  Instead of filling out the "About Me" section, I'm going to make it "About You".  About all the things YOU, potential dater, should be.  And if YOU happen to be all these things (and more, of course!), I may consider going to meet you for coffee.  Oh, there's another thing...Must respect and enjoy coffee.  Both inside and outside of the home.  Because I am fiercly addicted to Starbucks.

I think this could be a fun time.  I will first ask the potential (as that is what I have decided to term these un-named, faceless men) to read this list.  If they find a few things on here that are them, they can move on.  If they find themself in every line, then, yes, definitely contact me.  I am tired of wasting my time with people who I want to change, who want me to change them, who are in no way compatible with me, who believe that flossing is not important (notice where it is on the list?  It is important!).

I haven't decided which dating site to attack yet, but that's my next step.  For now, I'm trying to add to this list, I want it to be as complete as possible, I am not wasting anymore time. 

On a sidebar, I am not negative or bitter.  I am just completely at a loss as to why there are so many great guys out there that are great for other people.  I am intensely picky.  And I spend a lot of time in relationships trying to fix things I knew about going into the relationship, and that should not be the case.  I want flaws to be cute and small.  Not big and glaring. 

Whether this works or not, we shall see.  But I'm going to give it a go.  I think the best part of all this is knowing that I'll know if they are lying right away and can get up and leave.  And if they aren't lying, I'll meet some cool people who I have a lot in common with.

Officially. Out. Of the box.

Never again. I am never going outside my little box again. Never.

Did I mention NEVER?

Remember a few blogs ago, when I said I wanted to clean out my ipod and make room for some new/different tunes? Well that's never going to happen again. From now on, I'll just spend the money and buy a new iPod when the one I have is full. Steve Jobs, you now officially have my soul. I guess you need it, as you sold yours a long time ago...

Let me back up.

This morning, I innocently plugged in my laptop to charge it, preparing for my out-of-box-stepping at lunch. Then, I plugged in the USB for my iPod. Then, a little box shows up (as it always does when I plug in my iPod) “Scan Device or Continue without Scanning”.

So, yeah, you guessed it. I hit the wrong one.

My iPod FORMATTED.

ERASED.

EVERYTHING.

My life is over.

Okay. Not really.

But it felt that way when I clicked on the first playlist to delete and it was empty. Here's the thing. I don't buy my music from iTunes. I get it elsewhere. I don't buy my music from iTunes because I refuse to give my entire soul to Steve Jobs. So, there is no emailing iTunes and saying, “Um, please send me my library because well, apparently, I'm a dumbass.”

So it's back to the drawing board. I still have some music on my hard drive. Thankfully, I am so obsessed with The Beatles that I will never delete them. That's a lot. And I have the entire collection of Simon & Garfunkel, and Paul Simon. I have a couple other random albums stored on my computer. Then, there are my CDs. Unfortunately, there isn't much to do with them, as I haven't bought a CD in over five years. So now, I must go elsewhere.

Mission accomplished, I suppose. I told you that I wanted to clean out my ears and get a fresh start. I did just that. Step out of my box? Check. Big mistake? Double Check.

So, for the next few evenings. I'll be crying over my computer trying desperately to find the music that I was not going to delete. And, though I will not be purchasing them from iTunes, I will utilize the “Genius” function to see it there are any fun titles based on what I have inserted on my newly-empty iPod. Maybe this could be fun!

Later. When it's done. That's when it will be fun.

I will say, I am excited to have three new bands on my iPod. Kelly has given me Vampire Weekend. (You may remember them from my post about the Oxford Comma song.) That song was the only one by them I had, and only because it was about the Oxford Comma. But, I now have two of their albums on my iPod and am excited to hear more from them. Then, there is Marva Wright, a blues singer from Louisiana. I found her through my friend Pam, and this woman can sing the blues like crazy! There's a feeling of being in a smoky bar, maybe in the 50s or 60s, when she is singing. I believe she will bring delight to many of my journeys.  And then there's Lady Antebellum.  Amazing.  Guitar riffs and vocals that will blow your mind.  Thanks, Ric, for the suggestion.  Thanks, all of you, for your expansion of my being.

On that note, if any of you have any suggestions, please send them onward. I am looking to fill my life with my old standards, and find some new ones.   With your comments, I promise to try to find your suggestions and give it a listen.

So much for not ever getting out of my box again.  I think maybe this could be an interesting new path. 
So here's to new beginnings. New journeys.

Paul Simon is [GASP!] wrong...

My mom has a lot of opinions.  Many are about me.  Some are good.  Some are not so good.  Some I agree with.  Some, well, I just don't. 

Then, there is the one that is really worthless.  It's about my hair.  She hates my hair.  She can say this because I am adopted, and my hair is in no way her fault.  There is no genetic (or other) factor linking my hair to her.  To her credit, it is big, crazy, and unruly.  Oh, and I have two (yes, TWO!) cowlicks - one dead center in the front, and the other is dead center in the back.  So the only place to conceivably part my hair is straight down the middle.  But, then again, why is my hair such a point of contention?  This, especially since she has not had to do my hair on a consistent basis for well over 27 or 28 years now, I do not think I will ever know.

I do agree with her on one big thing.  I was born at the wrong time.  (Mind you, this is not her fault either, as she did not birth me.)   I was born in 1976, on the downward slope of the era I feel so attached to.

Never been lonely

Never been lied to

Never had to scuffle in fear

Nothing denied to

Born at the instant
The church bells chime

And the whole world whispering

Born at the right time

Sorry, Paul, this is one song I can't wrap my head around.

Yes, I'm a hippie.  I flash peace signs and wear bell-bottoms.  I listen to the music of musicans who are more frequently mentioned in the AARP magazine than Rolling Stone.  "Remastered" appears on nearly all my cds.  The bands I like either don't tour at all or go on reunion tours.  "New release" is not in my vocabulary.  I say things like "peace" and "groovy" (and have been known to say, "far out" on occasion).

My friends are also mostly all older than me.  I find a commonality with the people in the generation above mine.  I find my bonds and my soulmates within the people who grew up listening to the music I did (only in their case, it was new) and wore (notice the past tense) the same type of clothes I wear (notice the present tense).

I also watch reruns.  I love All in the Family, the Brady Bunch, the Partridge Family (oh, god, David Cassidy...god god god...), One Day at a Time, Mary Tyler Moore, Maude, Donny and Marie, etc, etc...anything from the 60s and 70s.  I think this is Ted Turner's fault.  When I was little, TBS ran reruns of all these shows from 4-8pm, Monday through Friday.  And due to my midwest upbringing, I had plenty of indoor time, November through March.

My feelings and attitudes also run deep in that time.  I feel every Beatles song deeply, the riff of Clapton's guitar, the lyrics of Paul Simon.  It seems that the music that I like has defined me as a person.  As I like a generation of music, I like other aspects about it, as well.  As I am moved by the cry against the social chaos of the message, I find myself emersed.  Janis Joplin was my idol for a while...until her insides became too toxic.  But her voice still takes me into a trance.  I have dreams of John Lennon.  I can turn on the Allman Brothers and literally pass my exit - by miles.

I am not a musician.  I am a fan.  I cannot play the guitar, but nothing soothes me more than the sound of one.  I have no vocal talent.  But a voice can carry me deep and far.  I am, however, a writer, and every lyric means something.  Every word must have meaning.  Every beat held a little longer than the last or a cut short has a poetic style to me.  I express myself through writing and I feel the expressions of others in theirs.

Isolated as I feel (real or not), in music, I am free and among friends.  And, on the rare occasion when something cosmic or meant-to-be happens in relation to this, I am on fire.  On one such time, I stumbled upon a book.  This is a book I will refer to often over the blog, so get it now. 

The book is called I Found All the Parts: Healing the Soul Through Rock 'n' Roll by Laura Faeth.

Got it?  Remember the book name, and hers.  It will be on the test.  OK, no test, but it will show up.  I can almost 100% promise that.  I promise because this book jerked me like only music can.  Coinsidence that it is actually about music?  I don't know.

First, I want to tell you that I did not find this book in a bookstore, or on one of my mad hunts online for something different to read.  This book landed on me.  On a rare day that I had the ipod off and was listening to the radio (the classic rock station - duh) on my way to work, there was an interview with a guy who had this genius marketing plan, and the product he was marketing that particular day was this book.  I listened to the whole interview and when I got to work, immediately got on the Barnes and Noble website so I could go get this book at lunch.  THEY DIDN'T HAVE IT!  Think, Ivy!  Think!  How do I get this book? 

Wow, you'd think I had never used a computer before...

I googled the name of the book and came to her website (wow, was that hard? I'm amazing sometimes!) and ordered it that day.

This book rocketed my out into outerspace.  FINALLY!  Someone feels the same way about music that I do!  FINALLY!  Someone gets that god exists out there in the realm of rock music.  FINALLY!  Someone feels the same way about music I do.  I began to write down things from the book.  I began to text message phrases to my musician friends.  I finally just ordered a copy of the book for one of them because I couldn't possibly recite the whole book to him! 

Through I have friends who love music as I do, even friends who are musicians themselves, I still have this perpetual feeling of alone and unique.  This book effectively erased that.  My conception of god was validated through reading this book, a conception I have been trying to figure out for years.  My quest is far from complete, but god and music and life and love and health are all inner-related.  And I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt, not just through my experience, but also because of Laura Faeth.  With her permission, I have posted the link the her website, as well as the picture of her book cover.

Every healthy part of me is because of music.  I was pretty severly hurt last year, hardly able to move, and I laid on the couch listening to VH1 Classic.  My first outing (while still in pain), was to see my friends' band.  It was the first time I was not in pain in weeks.  I just stood there against the wall, with my eyes closed, listening to the music, feeling the vibration of sound against the wall, and I was free. 
In my darkest mental states, music has been there, riding me through.  Pulling up out of myself and my funk, to bring me back to life.

Thank you, Laura Faeth, for re-affirming my beliefs, and for making me feel not so alone.

To those of you reading this, I want to warn you that music is everywhere I am.  Sometimes, a random song lyric becomes a phrase for me, and I don't even realize it.  So if you read something that sounds familiar, it probably is.  And I like to talk about it.  I may relate some of my dreams and feelings while listening to a particular song or artist.  I hope you can tolerate it. 

My current read is a book I learned about through Laura Faeth, entitled The Spiritual Significance of Music by Justin St. Vincent.  The link to his site and picture are also reprinted here with his permission.  It is very cool so far.  I'll let you know.  Once again, this is a book I had to google to find.  But totally worth it. I guess the lesson is lessons must be sought.

Sorry, Paul, I was not born at the right time.  I'm glad you were.  You are one of my inspirations.