Day 24: Make a playlist for someone and exlpain your choices

My sister and I are very different. I mentioned that previously. Everyone in my immediate family knows this. I've noticed, however, that people looking in from the outside cannot seem to get over our similarities. And we do have our ongoing jokes, our shared mannerisms, near-identical complexions (minus the freckles on my part), and the same color of brown framing our faces.

Still, our personalities and tastes are often as different as night and day. Music is a big example of where we diverge. Sure, we have some mutual appreciations (I've developed a playlist for that in case we're caught in the same car together), but the majority of my music she calls "trash," and most of her music I dub "cheese."

My biggest problem with her musical preference lies not in someone she likes, but rather in a group she does not. She hates The Beatles. I cannot seem to get over that. Who doesn't like The Beatles? She's crazy. Her defense: She says they sound too whinny and rough. She doesn't like the choppiness of some of their music and calls is old.

Warning: This is not a list of great Beatles covers (although some of them are pretty great). This list is intended to be ones my sister would like.

*To start, surprisingly we both like The Muppets. They covered several, but I like the jokes before this one the best. I don't, however, understand why they felt the need to include all the dogs.

80'stees.com has this on a tshirt!

*Across the Universe did its best to cover so many songs, but my favorite was when they used Oh Darling as part of an argument. Although, I think she would probably prefer the ones sung by Jim Sturgess.



*You've Got to Hide Your Love Away doesn't seem to have many good covers of it. But I did find one from Keane.



*Pesonally, I prefer Johnny Cash's version, but the sis doesn't appreciate him either, so I found a version of In My Life covered by Jason Mraz (who has a voice she likes).



*She's still warming up to Belle and Sebastian, but Here Comes the Sun is easy to get right. Coldplay and Rob Thomas also sing it pretty well.



*I think I am moving farther away from the type of musicians she likes, but I love Robin Williams and Bobby McFerrin's cover of Come Together.



*Across the Universe has been covered by some great artists, but Fiona Apple's version was great - I still think about Pleasantville when I hear it.



*If I Fell is one of my favorites, and I found this version a while ago.



Well, it ended up being a short playlist and I doubt she will like many of these versions either. She tends to like only artists who are still recording albums. It's sad, but I'm in the mood to cater. Any suggestions?

Days like these . . .

A few days ago my mom had a PET scan come back clean - for the first time in five years. It was kind of a big deal. I hadn't realized how tense I was until I heard something allowing me to release that tension. It felt good. We told everyone. Everyone was relieved. We went about hugging everyone we met - even if we didn't particularly like hugs.

But a couple days ago my mom insisted they check out a bump on her leg - a tiny thing that we didn't think would matter. Today they told us there were cancer cells in it. The supposedly all-knowing PET scan had missed them. Days like these, I hate the concept of false hope. After five years of surgeries, treatments, and doctor visits, we wanted some good news. But we wanted that news to be true. This weekend was great, but today hurts more than the first day we learned she had cancer.

So, even though I'm supposed to write about my religious and political beliefs, they don't seem all that important. I hope you'll forgive me. Days like these, I don't care about the latest attack ad or what our incumbents say they'll do this next term. I don't care about what label I've adopted regarding my faith in God.

Days like these, I want to go for a long walk with a bunch for 50's crooner music playing in my ears. I want to watch an old movie with lines I can say in unison with the actors. I want to read a book set in a completely different time period - maybe even universe.

Days like these, I look up youtube videos of squirrels, kittens, and puppies (don't judge me). I open my Bible to my favorite Psalms. I write emo poetry (and apparently emo blog posts). I hold back tears and look for things to smile about, laugh about, and talk about. I remember quotes like "Hard is hard. It's not bad; it's not impossible. It's just hard." I reflect on the things I am blessed with, but take for granted.

Days like these, I'm glad I find writing cathartic.

Why I need . . . my little sister

I love ideas - probably a little too much. Whenever a new idea hits me, I am filled with wonder and excitement (well, an idea that is new to me since we all know there are no new ideas). I am quick to incorporate fresh thoughts into the schema I have already developed for this thing we call a world.

I am especially inclined to believe people I have deemed credible. If my dad says it - it's true. Several professors, authors, friends, and my pastor also have that privilege. But even if people aren't all that trustworthy, I still want to accept whatever they have to share. Some would call me gullible. I have learned to temper that trait by being slow to speak regarding new information - perhaps that's why I rarely retweet anything - or respond to comments on twitter in general. I have had to train myself to think critically. Still, I want to embrace every fresh thought I find and I am more than a little bit sad when something I believe to be true turns out to be a sham (see mythbusters).

My sister is different. Whenever she sees, hears, or through some other sense encounters a new concept, she looks for confirmation. If I tell her something, she says "where did you hear that?" and demands 3 credible sources. It's worse if she thinks you're wrong. She will fight to the death to defend what she "knows" to be true.

I used to hate that. Why can't she just trust me? I'm the older sister. I have almost 3 years worth of information more than her. Why does she have to disagree on everything? But then I realized - I needed her. She's my fact checker. My stabilizing force. If I'm wrong about something, I can trust her to call me on it. She has also taught me to hold to what I know to be true (be just as stubborn as her).

People have often been divided into either/or groups. Those who drink Pepsi or those who drink Coke. Those who prefer the Beatles or those who prefer Elvis. Those who take the road less traveled and those who take the road more frequently traveled. Those who count and those who can't.

I submit another division - those who embrace new ideas, and those who do background checks first. We need both types of people.

A list showing why my grandmother won't be decorating my apartment

My Grandparents have lived at the same address my entire life (and I don't expect them to move). Once or twice a year, my family and I make the seven-hour journey to their home. I have celebrated birthdays there. I have opened Christmas presents there. I enjoyed the majority of my 13th summer there. It is never long before we make plans for our next visit.

Consequently, I am quite familiar with their humble, brick abode. I have grown accustomed to the windowless, pitch-black rooms of the basement, the creepy, but well-lit doll room upstairs, and the toilet in the middle of the laundry room. I have adjusted to the creaky floor-boards, the odd feel of the water, and the frighteningly low ceiling fans.

But the familiarity of the place has caused me to overlook the peculiarity of several smaller objects. I took my grandmother's trinkets for granted . . . until our latest trip. My sister and I were joking about the dolls (again), and as though a veil had lifted, we started to see all the unusual objects my grandmother had not only collected, but also proudly displayed. Inspired, I snapped a few pictures, and share them now with you.



First, a sampling of the dolls - In the room upstairs, they line the walls. I count myself lucky to have a mere dresser top of them next to my bedside.




Second, a praying dinosaur - I had to ask about this one. Apparently my great-grandmother made it, presumably for one of my uncles. I can only guess what she was thinking. (Maybe . . . boys like dinosaurs . . . Baptists like prayer . . . Baptist grandsons like praying dinosaurs?)





Third, I don't know what this is - a crocheting project? You tell me. I'm not sure even Dr. Seuss could have envisioned this guy.





Fourth, a frog vase - looks like it was made for pencils or suckers, but when Grandma is in charge, he gets fake flowers put in his head.






Fifth, baskets with greenery - I don't mind the baskets, but I'm not sure the dusty lines of leaves are working for me. Notice the white bear on the right - for some reason I actually like his inclusion.




Sixth, a mismatched shelf - several of these can be seen, but I found this delightful arrangement of lamps, hats, baskets, and dolls to be a fabulous example.



Seventh, one of Grandpa's hats - these literally hang around the house. This one appeared when I shut the door and was surprised to see such a statement come from the corner. If only I could find a hat that concurs or dissents to hang nearby next visit.




Eighth, a wreath and a basket - Although it seemed odd to find it hanging on the middle of a bedroom wall, I think the combination is laudable.




Ninth, Raggedy Ann and Andy - Again, this pair can be found in various forms throughout the house, but I appreciated the over-sized heads on this duo the best.



Tenth, the couch - Pottery Barn can't touch the craftsmanship here. This comfy three-seater has been a favorite of mine for years. I've watched movies on it, played video games on it, and slept on it. I will cry if this couch ever disappears.