Progress Since Our Last Session

Okay, so it’s been awhile since I’ve been on the couch here at Chicken Fried Therapy. When you stay away for any period of time it gets harder and harder to get back into the swing of the blog thing. I’m telling you, my hat is off to those of you who are raising a family and working at your job all day and writing on your blog regularly.

Show-offs.

But really, I crumbled under the blogging pressure and I just couldn’t seem to handle it all on my own. So I have made a decision -- oh hell, I’ll get to that in a minute. But first….

Let me get you up to speed. Little Chick went to sleep-away camp for the first time this summer, and I was so excited I turned into an unbridled Summer Camp Stage Mom. But by the end of the summer I channeled all my crazy-mommy energy into her Mamma Mia-inspired birthday bash. It was kind of an ABBA-meets-Hannah Montana blend that had me wearing white velour bell bottoms.

These days Little Chick is well into the swing of third-grade and her homework is kicking my ass -- which is a hard pill for me to swallow because I was always pretty much one of the smart ones. Now I am being stumped by 3rd grade math.

On the upside I have a dashing new boyfriend so I feel adorable and brilliant most of the time regardless. Ha! My new sweetheart, The Professor, lives a few states away so we hop around the South trying to find a time & place to meet up. I won’t say exactly where he’s from (have to save some dish for a later post!) but let’s just say in addition to pulling for the Carolina Tarheels and The Texas Longhorns, I’ve been overheard screaming “Roll Tide!” a lot more lately.

Hey, they are number one in the country right now so it looks like I hitched my wagon to a winner.

Here’s the kicker…he loves to fish and he’s a hell of a lot better at it than I am. I guess you could say we had a fly-fishing fairytale romance in Montana this summer. What’s that? I’m sorry, did I hear you swooning? I know, I know. It was dreamy. And no, my obsession with fly-fishing has not waned since our last session.

Slowly but surely I’ve been writing more regularly on my other site, Fly Fish Chick. But juggling two blogs all by my lonesome proved to be more than I could handle. Which leads me to my news.

I have decided to make Chicken Fried Therapy a team blog.

It’s very exciting. I have shanghaied five of my bestest girlfriends to join me here for storytelling, laughs and creativity. Most of them came along willingly. One girl still thinks she turned me down and won’t accept my calls, but she’ll get over that soon enough -- once she realizes she has no choice.

I just couldn’t let it all go….but I couldn’t do it without the help of some really terrific girls. Very representative of life, wouldn’t you say? So Chicken Fried Therapy is now going to be group therapy.

The new writers, lovingly dubbed The Drumsticks, each march to their own beat. We are adding a tennis player, an award-winning volunteer, a mom with two babies in diapers (anyone care to wager a guess as to which girl was resistant to joining my blog?), a tax attorney, and a soon-to-be pilates instructor. The Drumsticks collect art, design stationery, serve as PTA president, represent massive corporations, and manage their own personal compost.

That’s right, you heard me. I’ve brought a composter into the mix. Think she knows how to dish out the BS, or what?

So stay tuned my faithful chickens. It’s about to get loud in this wacky henhouse. How about a drumroll for the The Drumsticks?


Click Here to Keep Reading...

I Must Be Allergic To Duran Duran

1982 was a pretty big year for pop culture. Both “Fame” and “David Letterman” made their television premieres, while we said goodbye to the “The Lawrence Welk Show.” At just seven years old Drew Barrymore hosted Saturday Night Live, while Joe Montana was the Super bowl MVP. TIME Magazine named ‘The Computer’ as its 1982 Man of The Year. And Duran Duran led the ‘New Romantic’ music phenomenon across the pond with the success of their ‘Rio’ album.

It was a fairly busy year for my family as well. Like Duran Duran we also migrated across the Atlantic, moving from London back to Texas. That year I lived in 2 different countries, 3 different cities and attended 4 different schools. We finally settled in Nashville in the middle of my sixth grade year and it didn’t take long to size up the social scene. There was this super pretty, slightly edgy, avant-garde girl named Katie who was running the show. Everyone loved Katie and Katie loved Simon Le Bon. And I mean she loved him.

A crush on Simon Le Bon…really? Wasn’t that eyeliner he was wearing? And what was up with that hair and those ruffly shirts? I didn’t get it. I was sweet on Willie Nelson and Captain Von Trapp for goodness sake. But I knew dissension would be social suicide so I bought the Rio album and threw myself in the mix. Katie was sweet and really funny so I was thrilled when she finally asked me to sleepover. We spun those Duran Duran tunes and danced upon the sand until the wee hours. I was feigning a deep love for Simon Le Bon and making a new best friend in the process. Life was great.

Until I got violently sick and my mom had to pick me up early.

My friendship with Katie sort of melted away after that. I switched schools, we lost touch. I saw her once in high school and she had cropped her beautiful blond hair into a punk-like bob and streaked it pink.

So here we are 25 years later and guess who played in Austin, Texas last night? Duran Duran. A few weeks ago a friend invited me to join a group of girls for a birthday outing…dinner and the Duran Duran concert. I was so excited! I have only recently come to know this cool crew of chicas and was thrilled at the chance to spend more time with them. Plus, after all this time I thought it would be fun to give Duran Duran another shot. I brushed up on my lyrics and charged the camera battery.

But apparently it was my fate, once again, to trade The Reflex for The Reflux. I woke up yesterday with a violent case of stomach flu and had to miss the show. After 25 years I think it’s pretty clear I’m just not meant to be a Duran Duran fan. I probably should stick with my Texas music roots…country, rock and blues. I’m a little old for the New Romantic music movement anyway. Nonetheless I was so blue to miss the chance to spend time with a fun group of girlfriends. It was like 1982 all over again. And isn’t time such a funny thing? A quarter of a century passes in the blink of an eye, but when you have the 24-hour stomach bug, time can’t seem to move fast enough.

But time does press on. My old friend Katie has ditched the pink streak and now hosts a television show called CMT Insider where she interviews country music stars like Dolly Parton and Brad Paisley. Not exactly my flavor of country music but I do think it’s funny I spent so much time trying to impress her with my fake Duran Duran and Kajagoogoo airs and she ends up making a splashy living in country music. Good for her.

And hey-- she may have a fancy career in television, but I have lost five pounds in 24 hours and my stomach is the flattest it’s been since high school. I am going to enjoy it while I can because I’m certain tomorrow I will once again be hungry like the wolf.

Click Here to Keep Reading...