Music on Memory Lane

It's funny how a song can put you in a certain mood.  How it can make you happy or sad or pissed off. It's like our own little personal time machine.

There are many songs that were in my childhood that I revert back to, before I really developed my own taste in music. When ever my parents would say no, and I would pout, I got to know the Rolling Stones "You Can't Always Get What You Want" really well and then I could roll my eyes.

It was a dark night, and we were sitting in  a shiny grey Volvo  outside Hollywood Video, the movie rental place. My parents were returning a movie and I asked to rent another one. They said no, but this is how they said no. my mom came back and they both began singing "You can't always get what you waa-nnnttt, You can't always get what you waaa-nntt, You can't always get what you waa-nnt, but if you try sometimes you just might find, you get what you nee--eeedd," . Then I would roll my eyes. When I hear the very beginning of the song I'm instantly transported back to that time. 

Let's go back in time.

It was May of 2010, and Cassidy Sherman and Andy Zedolik were in agonizing antipication for their high school graduation in early June. They dated for most of their senior year. Since both of them were performers at heart, it would be a sin to not audition for the high school graduation ceremony. After searching and searching for the perfect song, they finally decided on one. 


Save Tonight and fight the break of dawn
 come tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be gone.


 When tomorrow came, it was gone. We became alumni. We couldn't go back to yesterday and un-graduate. 


Practice sessions and the audition were still fresh in my mind. I remember that night like it was yesterday, and it was almost a year ago. We closed the ceremony with our beautiful rendition of Save Tonight. Being on stage, I never wanted it to end. That was one of the best memories of my life. i sang the lyrics like a diva,  Andy played like a god, and I remember practicing for hours, and hours. Being on stage with that kind of crowd was an adrenaline rush like no other. 

Let me push a few buttons, and see where it takes me. Let's skip a few songs and see where I end up.

It was a late August when I auditoned at the Music Box dinner playhouse for one of my favorite musicals. Ever since I saw the movie, I decided, if I ever got the opportunity, I would be in Jonathan Larson's Rent. 


It was a goal I had for myself since I was first ever graced with the soundtrack. If I ever got the opportunity, I WILL be in it. No was not an option. I remember auditioning, i remember getting the call to say I was in. 


It was the first time I ever felt like I earned it, because I was good, and not because anyone else knew me. I remember forgetting my stage position because I was so into what was going on on stage. 


It was my first show that was not a musical comedy. That was the first show I had ever done where I wasn't a  character trying to make some one laugh. That was really difficult. I couldn't figure out how to act serious, but when I finaly figured it out, it was like a lightbulb went off. You are a singer, that's why you're here. Now prove to yourself that you can cry and believe it. That was the frst time I ever believed in my acting. I honestly believed I was sad, and apparently it showed. It was the most fun I ever had. 

Wow, I skimmed through the library and was transported to a time I had almost entirely forgot about. It seems a lot of memories are of me performing. That was my passion in a past life apparently.

I was in 6th or 7th grade. I had made friends with someone who was a singer. She wasn't bad, but I was better. My only problem, I couldn't sing high notes. We sang in the Talent Show and practiced for weeks. Performed in front of the whole school. So she sang high. The song was Martina McBride's Concrete Angel. My verse was 


"The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask, it's hard to see the pain behind the mask, bearin the burden of a secret storm, sometimes she wishes she was never born."


 It was one of the first time I performed, and it sure as hell wasn't the last time I performed on that stage. 

Let's go back maybe five years ago. Wow, I can't believe how long it's been. When I hear Kelly Clarkson, I have too many memories with Kelly Clarkson songs.

  The first time I picked up the guitar, I always wanted to teach myself a song to sing and play. The first song i ever learned was "Behind These Hazel Eyes". That was my goal. I wanted to be as good as Kelly. (I know I'm still not, but I've gotten much better since then.) 


It's been forever since I've played the song. But it was the start of my new performer status. It was necessary if I wanted to be a musician, and from then on I was. I played until my fingers bled. That was a great memory. I think I'll pick up the guitar shortly. I forgot how fantastic Kelly Clarkson is.

Oh Heart, How I've missed you. This was not such a happy memory.

I got so into watching American Idol, I thought I was actually good enough to try out. I remember the song I chose. I thought it would impress everyone. To me, it did. I fell in love with it when I saw Carrie Underwood sing it in season 4. I belted my heart out after hours of waiting in the pouring rain. Needless to say, I'm not a superstar right now, so you can figure out what happened there. Later, I watched that season, and I had  so many people and seasons to come tell me, I could do better, and the thing is, I know I could. I've given up on American Idol. It's full of what "they" tell you to be, or what they want, then you lose your identity. I'm ok with this staying just a memory and not a reality. Then I eventually figured out how I get you alone. 

Oh my, my. How fast time flies. It had been a year or two since I had gotten into listening to the Goo Goo Dolls. My mom thought they were a chick group. My dad and my sister and I were into it. I had my favorite songs, and then one day I saw they were playing at the Kirby Center in Wilkes-Barre, for one night.

Weeks after I told my wonderful boyfriend Andy how excited I was that I would save up, he took it upon himself to buy me tickets to see one of my favorite bands. I remember the card he made me, and he slipped the tickets inside. I remember him with a smile on his face. It was a red card that he made, that said "Happy Birthday Beautiful". When I opened it, two tickets fell out. My jaw dropped. 


That was getting the tickets. Going to the concert was even better than I imagined. 


We sat in the 7th row from the front. I could see the sweat run off of Johnny Rzeznik's face. My eyes were glued to the stage, and I would constantly look Andy in the eyes, when I wasn't looking at the stage. The Goo Goo Dolls have their super lovey-dovey songs that they play, and I would always look at him during them and thank him each and every time.  That officially gave him "BEST BOYFRIEND EVER" status. 

I have memories upon memories that I have stored in my head. Music allows me to enjoy them.

The Kingdom of Queendom

Home of the Oompa Loompa.

Home of the Chronic Texter. 

Home of the Skinny Pretty Girl you hated in high school. 

The Kingdom of Queend0m.

I'm not going back to my high school, but I'm still coming down with a case of High School Reunion Syndrome. 

HIGH SCHOOL REUNION SYNDROME: When you have the psychological need to show  up them bitches from your past . 

I never fit in with girls in my childhood. I have known them since I was a little kid.  They were skinny, and I was average. That was strike one for me. Each and every time we got together, One of them just got their license and would drive off somewhere.

 Without the the poor commoner.  

I could never be as tan, or as skinny, or just as pretty as the royal subjects. They left me out too many years and I never understood why I was excluded.

 Now I know: I didn't wear the uniform. 

Now I want to show them, "I've done this awesome stuff with my life, and have hope for my future!"I wasn't as tan, or as skinny or as pretty as them. I wish  I could kick their ass in the being tan, but I won't because skin cancer isn't in my plan.  Some of the queens have been graced by the disease, but I suppose they aren't orange enough. 

Yet, I still want to prove to them, that I am worthy of the royal court.  What is wrong with me? 

You pretend to be all charismatic, smart and fun, like you're going somewhere in life  and you'll be the queen of your own damn castle. 

I've been working out intensively to get in shape to compare my body with theirs.  I've been coming up with a "list" of things to say about my school, my accomplsihments, my grades, my plans, my major and my boyfriend. 

I've been trying to compete with them for years, maybe this time, I'll finally be knighted. 

Since I've been in college, I've learned people like you for you. Not for how nice your stuff is.  In the castle, texting in a conversation is the norm.  I kind of forgot it comes down to who has the nicest car, or who has the most cold hard cash. 

It's like going back to high school, because you're comparing yourself to the girls who can eat ten pounds of chicken wings and pizza, and not gain a pound. God, I hate them. 

I mean, I suppose I know why I was excluded, I was a little weird, and a little dorky, but who wasn't? I wasn't talking about the same boys they were. I wasn't into talking about the football game last week between Pennsbury and Council Rock South.  They were only interested in the lives that they lived. No interest to what they did not know.  They were closed minded. 

Not mine and my sister's, because we could never know the joys of being the same as them.  I could never relate, because we went to a different school, always. We lived in two different worlds. But that's not really true.  The other girls went to a different school too, so why were they so fucking special? 

So, I got hips and boobs, while most of them stayed thin and ass-less. Still an outcast, I got curvy, they just got taller. Skinny bitches. 

They would bring a different prince to all the parties, and of course they were preppy and gorgeous. These boys had to be gay or metrosexual, because they put more effort into their appearence than the stick girls. But they were gorgeous. 

I guess because they were part of that "preppy" circle, and I was part of that  "girl who won't get laid" circle because I didn't give it up when I was 15.  

The preppy thing wasn't my deal. I really liked listening to stories, because the inside was always nicer to me than the outside. 

I was the artsy type, and everyone else was sports-y, I guess. I was always a commoner,  but in college, that has worked in my favor with people of my kind. We may never know the joys of being royal, but if I've lasted this long, why should I start now? 

Never Grow Up

I was talking to my mom the other day, and she told me that she met one of my former classmates mom. She told my mom what he was studying and it was something very scientific. She said, "he must be really smart." He's going to be a successful adult.  In my opinion, a boring one.

Then it dawned on me that often times, the writer, the artist, the actor, the advertiser,  the movie maker, and the musician  are not usually thrown into the  "smart" category. They're thrown into the "la la land" category.  Like maybe we should grow up and get real jobs because we aren't going to make a hefty sum of money.

Call me naive, but money doesn't make me horny. I'll stick to what I think is fun, thank you very much.

 Creative people are extremely intelligent. They have the ability to daydream and to solve problems uniquely, much like a young child does. For example, I can write this blog every week because writing is a fun challenge for me, while my mom dreads writing a few emails.

Creative people never grow up. They let their imagination run wild like a rat that's been let out of its' cage.

Non-creatives can't do that.  They're stuck in what "they" tell you and order. They conform to what is true without any consideration for it being false.

How do you know what "they"'re telling you is not a load of bullshit?

If I were a teacher, I would just tell my students lies about things and test them on it. I'd like to see how many of them would believe me. But kids are taught this at a young age. The teachers word is gospel.

Believe what "they" tell you. Yea, that's a way to live.

Creatives get fully indulged in their work. What separates creative types from the their counterparts is that-- we question everything and love to get our hands dirty. Just like children always asking, "why?" and "how do you know?"

Remember when you were little, and you drew a picture and asked, "Mommy, do you want to see my picture?" and then she hung it on the fridge?

I do.

 "Creative people want to show the world what they've done" to quote one of my instructors, Ed Ackerman.

I guess creatives never grew out of that phase.

The Friend Rulebook

Recently I've been faced with a dilemma that seemed to be common sense to me. I never thought twice about it. I learned something new this week. 

It comes from the friends you made in college, some of the friends you made in high school, very few of the ones in middle school and the ones you met on your first day of Emilie Christian Day School. 

I learned the most important lesson of  my entire life in my preschool. 

"Treat people the way you would want to be treated." 

This is how I would want to be treated by my friends. And they should expect the same things from me in return. 

  1. Be Honest with me: If I sometimes get on your nerves, tell me, nicely please. If I wore my shirt inside out, laugh with me, not at me. I'm human, I make some mistakes too. Forgive me for my cardinal sin against fashion. Tell me it looks bad so I don't embarrass myself in front of people! 

  

  2. Don't Judge Me: Hey, I don't judge you based on your past. That's not fair. People change. No one's perfect, but it doesn't matter what you did or who you fucked, it matters that you make it right in the future. Your choices are your choices. It's your life, not mine. I don't care if you're a virgin, or a slut, or you dress flamboyantly or weird. You are the person I like hanging out with and that will not change my perception of you.

  3. Listen to Me and be my shoulder to cry on: If I'm upset, I may want you to listen to me complain about it or I may just want to cry and not talk about it. If I'm upset, ask me what's wrong, and give me a hug. It feels like you care. 

  4. Give Advice/Suggestions: I'm still young and stupid! Give me advice or tell me some stories to help make my decision easier and not to make some of the same mistakes. 

  5. Hang out with Me: It seems like a given, but if you're my friend you should want to hang out with me even if the whole gang isn't there. We can have a great time with just us. 

  6. Put up with me/Take care of me in my darkest hour: When I'm upset or being pessimistic, just pull my hair back when I'm puking my guts out. 

  7. Protect Me/Stand up for me: It's a loyalty thing, don't throw me under the bus if someone's bad-mouthing me. Don't join in, tell them to shut their face, I'm awesome. 

  8. Intervene if I'm doing something that could kill me: If i get involved in smoking, don't let me. If I get involved with doing anything like driving drunk, steal my keys. If I do anything like illicit drugs, slap me and take it away. If I'm eating all of your potato chips, take them away. I'll thank you for it later.

I do each of these for my friends, and I expect them to do the same for me. The good ones knew this already. I will fight for you, never judge you, respect you, be honest with you, and help you with your future. The good ones already follow these, and they will be the ones hanging around my entire life. We will be the main characters and the heros, while everyone else will be the villains trying to take down my Justice League. We always win.

Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?

Most of my adult/adolescent life was spent wondering how to be "sexy". Then it hit me, what exactly is sexy?

I know my definition of sexy is this:

sexy(adj): Whatever gets your libido pulsing.

For me, it's a musician. His fingers glide across the fretboard like I want them to glide across me.

Enough about me, this blog isn't  about what I necessarily find sexy, but my comments on what others think is sexy.

I asked many people, about their definition of sexy, physically and emotionally.


                  1. Body: There is no question about this one, obviously ones initial physical attraction appeals to your libido. Most of the ladies I spoke to said they like the muscle mass of the guy, and the guys said they love a woman with hips and a booty. Voluptuous. "Being busty couldn't hurt."  It may be  carnal, but it was on everybody's list.

                 2. Personality: Well no duh, but what kind of personality? The personality that screams: Hi, I'm Cassidy and I will rock your world as a friend and in bed! Someone that can make you laugh at something without trying, perhaps.  I think what they meant by that is, that they don't want to have all the control, someone that they can actually have a conversation with and not just bang.

                 3. Musician: This actually isn't me talking. In my land of creative bastards, there is nothing sexier than a musician"glazed in sweat". Most gals(who I spoke to) are incredibly turned on by a guy with a guitar on stage, or a singer or lyricist with a sensitive side. To us creative gals, sensitivity is not weakness, but possibly the sexiest attribute! There's talent on stage, I bet there's just as much talent off stage too, and I sure would like to find out.

                4. Intelligence or a Brain: This is an incredible turn-on and goes with personality for sure. "I think intelligence is sexy," or "you know what's sexy to me? A brain."  Some people want someone to talk to while knowing  that they are the smarter one in the conversation, but most people want to know that they are talking to an equal in intellect. And I guess someone that can match your sick Sudoku skills.

                5. Humility: Being able to admit to your mistakes. "Being sexy is definetly defined by being able to admit defeat," one of my ladies said. Being able to say "I'm sorry," and actually meaning it shows a sense of sincerity and says, "hey I screwed up, but I care about you enough to put my pride down to make you happy." No one's perfect, but the sooner you realize you aren't God, the sooner you'll get laid.

                6. Putting effort into your appearance: This is important for both sexes.  " A girl smells nice, you just want  watch her walk by,"one of my men said.  Apparently we notice if each other dresses up in a dress or a suit.   According to the same guy, putting on some blush or eyeliner implies you care about the way we look to the world.  Putting on a makeup mask however, means you're hiding your pretty face and you  don't look beautiful, you look fake. A little make-up is nice, a lot of cover-up shows more flaws than you think.

And the most popular answer was #7. "Confident by not Cocky", my buddy Jimmy put this one perfectly. "She knows she's attractive, and walks around like 'I'm hot and you know it,' without being arrogant." Attitude has a lot to do with it. Being sexy comes from knowing you're wonderful without saying "I'm wonderful!" And definetly owning your sexuality, seems to be a huge turn on.  It comes from demanding the attention of members of the opposite sex or even the same sex. Negativity doesn't jive well with most people. Even in the bedroom, knowing you're funny and hot and beautiful and handsome makes it all the worth while inside the bedroom and out.

 The ATC-ers have spoken.


Cassidy