Mourning the loss...of someone we never met?

I like US Weekly and People just like the next girl.  I love when I see a new issue on the magazine rack at the gym.  It's perfect reading for the elliptical - doesn't require too much brainpower and there are lots of pictures.  That being said, I'm usually relatively current on my celeb gossip and am easily entertained by the drama.  However, one thing I have never understood is the tendency to revere celebrities in death and fixate so deeply on mourning their contributions to society and the associated loss.  Some examples that come to mind - Anna Nicole Smith (ok, maybe she didn't really contribute to society other than in I-feel-sorry-for-you ways), Heath Ledger, Amy Winehouse, and most recently, Whitney Houston.

I can't tell you how many media outlets had tributes to Whitney Houston over the weekend.  Even my local, hometown news station had an entire web page dedicated to her.  It's just overkill and something that I cannot rationalize, intellectually speaking. 

Whitney certainly was a music fixture in my early life.  I remember my Mom playing her tapes when we were out and about in her Volvo station wagon back in the late 80s/early 90s.  I think we even had some of her CDs when tapes went out of fashion.  I danced to "Queen of the Night" in our camp talent show.  I always liked her music and her smile was amazing.

So while I enjoyed her music, I was perplexed by the coverage this weekend and early this week.  I never met Whitney.  I found her entertaining, but no more or less so than the next actor, writer, producer or singer.  For society as a whole to mourn her death with such vigor and fervor seems strange to me.  Why don't we mourn everyone in that same way?  In death, our family members don't make front page news for weeks on end, but their relative impact on us is undoubtedly stronger and much more relevant in our daily lives.  In my mind, the contributions of those closest to us should be the focal points in our lives.

As I've worked through the words to describe my sentiments on celebrity deaths, I continue to be confused.  Maybe you're not supposed to apply intellect to life and death...

A loss

I am a big New England sports fan and have been mourning the Patriots' Super Bowl loss for the last 24 hours or so.  While I love the Pats, I sort of expected it.  They came out of the gate sloppy and had some silly penalties (12 men on the field) called against them.  While this loss was memorable, that in the 2007 Super Bowl was worse.  But nothing can compare to the 2003 ALCS, where my beloved Red Sox played the Yankees.

Let's take a journey back in time, shall we?  Game 7 happened to coincide with my college's Senior Night, aka a bar rented out for us and they drove us back and forth in school buses.  Classy.  I was glued to the TVs over the bar with a plethora of other Yanks and Sox fans.  Since I went to school in PA, there was a strong showing for both teams.  The game went into extra innings and we ordered more beers (duh, we're college students).  Enter 11th inning. Enter Aaron Boone.  Enter walk off home run.


Source

My disbelief was palpable.  I stared at the TV with my mouth agape (catching some flies, if you will).  And then the realization set in.  The season was over and we were going home.  I think I shed a few tears into a pitcher of beer that night.  Never have I been so attached to a team like the 2003 or 2004 Red Sox.  I love those guys.

Do you get super emotional about sports?  Or attached to a specific team?

Musings 003

Hey 2012,

It's time to shape up!  I thought you would be a super duper year and you've started like a dud.  My job has been burying me.  I'm grateful to have a job in this economy, but I'm tired and burned out.  You ushered in the birth of two darling babies, albeit way too early.  And you brought some sad news on the health of a dear friend's doggie.  There has been far too much anxiety and worry for being 35 days in.  Can you please work on some happier, fun times?

Sincerely,
Christine

Just in case

I keep the weather for multiple cities on my iPhone. You know, just in case I decide to pick up and go tomorrow.
NYC, Paris, London and Hamilton (Bermuda).
I like to be prepared.

A Rainy Day

They say that when it rains, it pours.  And typically I've found that to be true.  Oftentimes when the really annoying sort of bad news comes, it comes in waves.  Exhibit A - last week in the life of Imperfect Christine.  I had to have the steering column replaced on my car, had a really rough, trying week at the office and came home from Saturday morning errands to find my garage filled with water leaking from my water heater.  Suffice to say that the moments of joy were few and far between from last Monday to this Monday. 

But through it all, I knew one thing.  While it was an incredible inconvenience to be car-less last week and to be acutely monitoring the water situation in my garage with a rotation of a few crappy towels (thank goodness I kept my towels from college and found them in the attic!) to sop up the mess, I knew one thing - I could pay for these repairs with a little thing called the rainy day fund, aka a savings account.  My parents trained me young to prepare for unplanned expenses and I'm so grateful they did. 

While I don't intend to be overly preachy or charade as a goody-too shoes, I do highly recommend that everyone consider such an arrangement.  Most banks offer a variety of savings account options, with many being free of service charges.  Heck, you can even keep an envelope of cash between your mattress and boxspring.  Knowing that you have a little financial padding can truly ease the burden of a situation wrought with angst and stress.

Musings 002

Do you ever find music that speaks to you?  Maybe it's an album or a song or a ditty.  It doesn't have to be something terribly profound, but I always seem to find a song or album every now and then that just literally moves my soul.  I've been listening to music a lot more than I have in the past recently.  Chalk it up to some longer days and nights at the office and some very detailed assignments that require a lot of concentration.  All through school, I used music as background noise to help me focus on homework or studying...I guess old habits die hard.

So you're obviously wondering (ok, maybe not) what music I'm going to discuss in this post.  Florence and the Machine's new album, Ceremonials.  It's haunting.  I imagine it pulsing through the halls of an old stone church.  There is one song that feels religious to me.  It's the first track on the album which is on repeat in my home tonight.  It's called "Only if for a night."

As I've become older and maybe a little bit wiser, I've been more aware of the relationships I have and what they mean to me.  I've also realized that relationships don't have to last forever and they may exist for a specific reason at a specific point in your life.  Friendships fade.  Lovers leave.  People die.  That may be a negative outlook, but it's reality and that's ok.  And while I'm not sure of the writer's intent with this song, I think the lyrics speak to anyone who has lost someone, whether that be a metaphorical or physical loss.

Then I heard your voice as clear as day, 

And you told me I should concentrate, 

It was all so strange, 

And so surreal, 

That a ghost should be so practical.

I can't explain it, but this just explodes in my mind.  

A Toast to Sunday Brunch

I'm a big breakfast fan.  It's probably my favorite meal, but unfortunately that little pesky thing called a job keeps me from a legit breakfast most days.  So I can typically found over my stove on a Sunday morning.  I believe in a wholesome Sunday breakfast, spent with full mugs of coffee and the Sunday paper.  It's practically a ritual for me.  It feels good for the soul and it feels good to spend some time with loved ones and/or the news.

So this Sunday, I poked around my fridge and cabinets for some ideas.  After noticing a chunk of fancy scmancy sourdough still in fridge, I decided on French toast.  While I believe in Sunday brunch, I also believe in good bread for French toast.  You just shouldn't use some old white bread for this....it's just not right.  Find a bakery or heck, buy a nice loaf of French bread from your grocer's bakery department.  It will do.

What you'll need

Christine's French Toast, makes 4 slices

• 4 slices sourdough, about 1/2 inch thick
• 1 egg
• 1/4-ish C milk
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• pinch nutmeg

Break egg in a shallow dish and beat well.  Add milk, cinnamon and nutmeg.  Beat well.  Place sliced bread in the dish to absorb the liquid, turning over once.

Let it soak up all the eggy, milky deliciousness!

Heat a nonstick skillet over med-high heat.  Cook the toast for about 3-4 minutes per side or until golden brown.

Dust with powdered sugar and serve with maple syrup.

Doesn't that look fab?