The Hills Are Alive With the Sound OF MUSIC!

Whether or not the American people are willing to admit it, a little phenomenon changed our dialect. It started about 12 years ago. It changed our form of communication. It changed how we interact. The change is not a what, but a who. The responsible person is a F*R*I*E*N*D named Chandler. You know it’s true! As a matter of fact you SO know it’s true. Every now and then David will give me a hard time for talking like Chandler. I’m not talking like Chandler, I’m just talking. Chandler (aka Matthew Perry) gave us a twist, a break from the monotone sentence with just a little emphasis here and there. I knew this had reached beyond the F*R*I*E*N*D*S audience, but recently got a chuckle by just how far… Driving from Sacramento to Salt Lake City a couple weeks ago was quite blustery. At one of our stops for snacks and to go potty, I hurried back to the car, jumped in and quickly slammed the door to escape the wind and rain. I blurted out “I’m SO ready for spring!” To which my sweet Grandma replied (with out even a hint of being patronizing) “You’re SO not alone!”

I know, I KNOW! I'm old.

Instead of excusing and explaning my absence from this here blog, I'm going right in to yet another experience that makes me feel old. Again. Old.

As I hurriedly got ready for work on Tuesday (always in a hurry), I couldn't find my deodorant. Getting desparate I used (gulp) my daughter's stick of Caribean Cool Teen Spirit.

I'm sorry. When did I get old enough to have a daughter? That uses deodorant?