YOU GUYS. MUTEMATH.

I saw Mutemath for the first time at the Alive Music Festival in Ohio back in - oh... I think 2004? You know, back when all I wore was T-shirts and all I was all angsty and stuff. I had no idea who they were and they didn't even have a full album out yet. They were performing on a side stage at like, noon, and maybe 4 people were watching if I may be generous. I remember hearing them play "Control" and saying - oh my. Yes. Yes to this. When they were finished their set, we all kind of looked at each other wide-eyed and wordless. Like, um, did you see that? Did anyone else see that?

I've seen them another few times since then and then I saw them last night again in Tempe - headlining their own tour and performing for a giant crowd. Kind of cool to see that evolution.

My point is that last night's show was possibly one of the best shows I've been to in my life. By the end my feet were killing me and I was sweating my butt off (like any good concert-dancer-with-beer-in-hand should) but I was BEGGING for it to not be over. They have a crazy electricity. They have absolutely MASTERED what they do. The music, the writing, the performing. They have no room to improve. That makes me feel inspired and alive and all that stuff, and I mean it. People still master things. Isn't that great?

Also, the opening band was called Civil Twilight and may be (are clearly attempting to be) this generation's Radiohead? Too soon?

Anyway the guy played his guitar for a while with a bow, and that was ok with me.

I mean, seriously. When was the last time music made you feel this way?

Today: A Poem

Last night I got a mosquito bite

Well, several, in fact.

I was attacked by a horrible mosquito

Right there on my couch.

So I took some benedryl

Because I've been known to react

Get it? React?

And the benedryl made me very tired.

When I woke up today I was still tired

And Aaron took me to work

I slept during the car ride

And now I'm wearing a hoodie.

I want chicken soup

And a piece of chocolate

Well, two pieces of chocolate

And for everyone to stop asking me for things.

 

This has been our first edition of Today: A Poem.

Muscle Stretching

There are some things in life that we seem to have collectively decided are morally superior to other things, based on no discernable standard that anyone can actually articulate. You know what I mean? Like, sometimes when I finish reading a book - and I mean, any book; like I could have just read the most mind-numbing, silliest book you've ever heard of - but still I will think to myself, Oh Maria. You have just bettered yourself. You just read another book. You are better. Think of all those people just sitting around! Watching TV shows about wedding dresses! How deliciously pathetic are they! YOU JUST READ A BOOK. YOU DESERVE A MANI-PEDI AND PROBABLY SOME PEANUT BUTTER ON A SPOON.

You know what I mean?

And then Aaron will look at me longingly, and go... oh Ria. I wish I read more, like you.

And I say... I know, my darling. My sweet, xbox-playing darling. But we readers are a specific class of people. Not everyone can get in, Aaron. Not everyone can get in.

I don't really say that, but don't you think it's weird that somewhere along the line both AB and I have learned that for no explicit reason, reading books is morally superior?

I'm not saying books aren't good for learning and for vocabulary and expanding your horizons and all that. But I'm talking morally - like, way down in the very juices of our most unique souls - are we more valuable if we read? Are we worth more, as a person? Are we worth less if we don't?

I've always thought the same thing about exercise. I go to the gym three times a week. I run and spin and do other things that I just hate. And oh, do I think I am wonderful.

I think people might think I work out because I like it. There are things about it I do like - mostly, how I feel afterwards. And if I'm having a good day, energy-wise, I like how I feel during it too. But most of the time, I HATE IT. I HATE EVERY SECOND. Can you believe that?

If I spent 4-5 hours a week doing virtually any other thing that I absolutely HATED, you'd probably call me crazy. "Maria! Why in the world are you watching Keeping up with the Kardashians AGAIN?" You know, that sort of thing.

But you know what I do like about it? How much better than you I feel afterwards.

And you! You think I'm great. You think I'm super disciplined. Because you have the good sense to have a good dinner with your husband and watch NCIS instead of spending a grueling hour trying to avoid throwing up again in front of the men's locker room.

I think I'm great too. Because I read. And I work out.

A few months ago I started praying while I was running, and I started saying, listen. Get me off this. I don't want my only motivation for this to be that I think I'm better than people. Because where does that even come from? Please remove whatever moral importance I've attached to this very a-moral thing and let me be.

I was scared to pray that, because I figured He'd do it, and then I wasn't sure if I'd have any motivation to work out at all.

And then last week my doctor told me I couldn't run or spin for at least three months due to some muscle issues I've been having.

Like, no running or spin. For three months.

So who am I now, and how do I know whom I'm better than?

This is why we need Him, you know?

Marriage

Aaron: "What do you WANT?"

Maria: "I need you to treat me like a princess today."

Aaron: "Then I can't even lay my eyes on you, because I'm a peasant. I'm going to play xbox."

Happy Ominous Friday

This sky greeted me yesterday after work and also this morning. In fact, this morning, it was so cold (84 degrees only!) and rainy that I got myself Starbucks and they didn't even ASK if I wanted it iced or hot! (It's HOT coffee weather, ya'llsies!) (Cynics may chalk this up to bad customer service and/or the fact that the Starbucks was inside a Fry's grocery store and the one lady who was working there kind of looked like she had pajama bottoms on but was hoping you didn't notice, but to you I say, be quiet, I'm trying to have a moment, and also this is probably why you don't get invited to any parties.)

Anyway, this sky is happening.

If I were in Ohio, I'd say FRICK THIS, WHY IS IT ALWAYS LIKE THIS and I'd drown my sorrows in hush puppies in my basement or something and dream about where else I wish I lived.

It is such work being me.

*Also, why is there barbed wire in my work parking lot? And why is this picture the first time I noticed it?

Dear Sad Lady With Red Hair

Dear Sad Lady With Red Hair,

The other day I was walking into the lunch room to read more Boleyn novel nonsense and you stopped me and said you liked my shoes, and then you looked forlornly toward the corner of the room, and you said, oh, I remember when I used to be young and dress cute.

And your voice made me very sad.

I think it made you sad too, because suddenly you frowned and walked away when normally we might have had a bit of a longer exchange of pleasantries.

First of all, I got my shoes at Stein Mart. Granted, they are fabulous, but I didn't raid some secret, black-lit, youth-only warehouse in New York City on Fashion Week or anything like that. If you had happened to go to Stein Mart on that Saturday with me, right after I ate that biscuit sandwich at the breakfast joint over on Scottsdale Road, you may have picked up the same pair, exclaimed "35 bucks!! Is it my birthday?!" and then walked back to your car a new woman, too. (And then texted your husband and said 'sorry in advance but I'm not telling you why.') My point is, these shoes aren't exclusive.

Secondly, I like your hair color. It isn't that weird, dull red that some gingers have, it's that fire-engine red, like Joanie on Mad Men. Joanie on Mad Men, no less! You're in the big leagues, red! Way to go!

Thirdly, I wish you wouldn't go on that crazy no-bread diet. No one likes a no-bread diet. And really, it can't be done. A few weeks after you've reached your "goal" you're going to have one cracker and gain it all back plus 10 pounds and a greater sense of injustice. Life is not meant to be lived in the absence of grilled cheese. If you want to get more fit, take a walk a few times a week and eat more broccoli. Otherwise, enjoy life, ok? Life includes your lunch break.

Fourthly, I bet you have a lot of people who love you. You say hi to me in the morning and it makes me feel better. You know, about it being morning. So add me to that list.

Fifthly, you can borrow my space heater whenever you want.

Please don't be sad. Being older than 25 surely has it's ups. Being 25 has it's downs, anyway. But overall, life is pretty good, right? I mean, major network TV series are about to start again; it's pumpkin-related food season, and we live in a world where this happens sometimes. Smile!

Cordially,

Maria, or that one girl with the shoes.

Camping Photo Essay

On Friday night, despite the threat of bear attacks,West Nile Virus, and/or becoming hippies, the courageous three of us decided it was more important to escape the one hundred million degrees of Phoenix (which have been well documented) and go camping in Prescott. Prescott is about two hours north of us and sits at a 6,000-feet elevation so the temperature when we got there around 7 pm was about 65 degrees and DELICIOUS and I wept for the beauty of it, or I made this face.

During the first night, Jethro woke up in the middle of the night and went absolutely bonkers over something outside the tent. I was convinced it was either a bear or the rapture, but it turned out to be a deer. At least that's what Aaron told me while he looked out with a flashlight and I buried my head in my sleeping bag and wondered who was going to read my journals when the police found them. Although, do police investigate the homes of people who die from bear attacks? I guess I'm not sure why they would, except it would make for great TV, especially if the bear had a vendetta or something. Moving right along.

On Saturday we hiked Thumb Butte. It even rained a little bit and after I yelled "WHO IS THROWING WATER AT ME" I remembered that sometimes when weather happens, rain comes down from the actual sky and makes the ground wet and stuff. Science. 

Then we went into town and the fair was happening again at the Courthouse. I suddenly realized I have never been to Prescott when there is not a fair happening at the Courthouse. What does this mean?

MOLLY'S TAMALES, WILL YOU MARRY ME

"OMG. OMG. OMG. Take my picture."

Then we saw this, and it's like, what's living if this doesn't happen every now and then, you know?