Name That Tune Monday Answer

Blondie AKA Debbie Harry singing "Sunday Girl" who needs to hurry up and wait. Mom to Elijah guessed half of the answer but I will send a full prize to you, since it was a hard one, so send me your address!

Name That Tune Monday

This is the first of my new "Name That Tune Monday" and hope that you find it fun. I attempted to dress up like her, so don't think I wear my hair like that all the time! I do wear my favorite suit to work, though. Where there seems to be a glitch in the video is actually the title of the song. My son added that little feature. Here goes.....first one back with the correct song title and artist gets a goody! I'll post the winner at 12:00 PM MST.

Need another hint - 1979. The artist goes by two names (not preceded by "Formerly known as"). One is her band, one is her name. Another hint: She sings the same song in French as well.

On the right track, folks! Blondie is correct - the song is.... _____ Girl?

Happy Mother's Day

First, Happy Mother's Day tomorrow to all my wonderful friends (that would be you!) Speaking of identities in my last post, wow. Becoming a mother certainly changes your identity, doesn't it? For the better, of course. What would we do without the title? I forget who I even was B.C. (Before Children).

I'm going to try a little new something on my blog, besides Twisted Tale Tuesday, which I failed to write this last week. I'm going to have a "Name That Tune Monday." Some friends and I will be singing a few lines of a song by video and the first one to name the song title and/or original artist (specified) I will send a little prize to. I hope you have fun with it. I will post it at 10:00 AM Mountain Standard Time. It will be so fun to hear from you.

Today my hubby, Jared, and I went to an antique store and I found the perfect ring. I tried it on and it was like Cinderella trying on her glass slipper. My ring size is hard to find (5 1/2) and it was my size and beautiful. Since I've lost so much weight my other wedding set doesn't fit. So, darn, I had to get a new ring. I've been looking at rings with three stones on them, this one I like because it has three sides which can be symbolic of: my three kids or God, Jesus and Holy Ghost. The two diamonds can be a symbol of me and Jared. What do you think?

Choose An Identity

I think it's kinda funny when you leave a comment on a blog and it says, "Choose an identity." I thought about this question a lot and ask, "Hmmm. Who would I like to be today?"


When I was in first grade, I'll never forget sitting in class and the teacher was calling the roll. She called my name. I ignored it....on purpose. She called me again and looked up, "Krista?" I remember looking everywhere except her eyes and answered, "My name is changed."

She asked, "Oh really? What's your new name?"

"Karen," I answered proudly.

"Karen?" She asked. Yes! My class will call me by my favorite name now! "You'll have to bring a note from home telling me your name is changed." I could feel a tiny, six year old size dagger go through my little six year old heart. I was caught in my lie. Darn! Now I'll have to be stuck with being plain old Krista.


The other day I forwarded an e-mail from my home account to my friend at work's account. She wrote back, "Who is this from? What is your name?" So of course, I take this opportunity to tell her my name is "Princess Krista, Her Royal Highness, Her Majesty, but you can call me Krista." It's funny how that title makes you hold your head up a little higher.

Have you ever dressed up for Halloween and felt "in character?" That usually happens when I dress up like a witch. Have you dressed up for a formal occasion and felt ..... lacking a word here ..... elite? Have you been caught in your pajamas at 1:00 in the afternoon and felt like a lazy slob? Me neither.

So....what identity would you choose?

GREETINGS, EARTHLINGS!

Ever since I was a little kid, I thought that was a funny line. You have to imagine that being said after one has sucked in helium and followed by, "Take me to your leader." It seems as if I have actually fallen off the planet, but I'm back. If even for a short visit.

I have a confession that I'm very leery on sharing. A small explanation for my disappearance (besides the fact that I was kidnapped by aliens and used as a scientific experiment.) I have been fighting "stinkin' thinkin'" which has gone beyond stinkin' thinkin' and classified as depression. I'm not the kind that usually advertises my problems because there is no market for them. The thing with depression is you don't really have a problem, per se, which makes you feel even worse for feeling the way you do.

In desperation of better feelings, I thought I would try tanning (or fake baking) at a local tanning joint. I'm not one who likes to tan - even naturally. I tanned about seven years ago when we went on a cruise in the middle of February and I didn't want to burn.

I've decided something even more awkward than standing in line at the Bishop's office is standing in line for a tanning bed. You don't want to make eye contact. When you do make eye contact with a person leaving you think, "Ew. Their butt sweat is on the bed I'm going to lie on." I know, they "sanitize" the beds but I sanitize mine again when I'm in there in case they missed a spot.

As I'm laying there I think about - wait. Awkward. I better be careful what I write here. My BFF, Karen, says she would like to tan but doesn't like basting in her own juices. So that makes me think about turkey which makes me think about chicken which makes me think about chicken knuckles falling off which makes me think about this. Then I wonder if that man I saw walking out of a tanning room earlier (Ew - guy butt sweat) was a policeman because I can smell bacon!!! Just kidding. Honestly, there is no occupation I have more respect for. But I did smell bacon and I did think that and I'm very sorry. And I laughed as I lay by myself in the broiler. Then I think about a song and try to refrain from singing. I always have a song in my head and I'm convinced I'm a perpetual musical.

Then I think how I'm in the buff and I'm getting a tan where the sun doesn't naturally shine. That makes me think of smokin' crack. I don't know why. I've never smoked crack. Probably because I can hear some cracklin' noises and wonder how much fat I'm burning off. Then I think of my son (and National Underwear Day) who stopped into my work today to say hi. Then I think of my daughter who wants to be in a pageant this summer because I hope she doesn't want to tan because it's so bad for your skin. Then I think of my other daughter who has freckles on her cute little nose because she plays in the sun, which is so bad for your skin.

Suddenly, I'm feeling much better. I thought my husband only paid for a month, which I was happy with (or as happy as you could be with depression.) Obviously my husband thinks I needed the light therapy because he actually signed me up for two months which should bring me into summer. Now I'm really upset with him because he must think I'm hard to live with and that's why he paid for two months. Now I'm depressed again, which reminds me of chocolate which reminds me of peanut butter which reminds me of the road to Heaven. Then I'm happy again.