Just another pinch-me-is-this-my-life moment

I discovered a singer songwriter named Dayna Kurtz through Charles when he and Shan put a song of hers on their wedding CD. I still don't know the name of it, only that it's #3 and that when it's on I must sing it as loud as I can. I love her blend of jazzy rockabilly and power passion ballads. Not only is the music an emotional shag, but the lyrics... they are pure wordistry, built to splay open the human experience and make it raw and tender and awfully delicious.

Dude, I should write for SPIN.

When I moved to LA, I signed up for her mailing list because I just knew that she'd stop by the City of Angels on her next tour. Everybody does. But she didn't. She went to Amsterdam, Austin, Buffalo... never even looked out west. I figured if I didn't get to see her in LA I was never going to see her.

So imagine my surprise when I get a newsletter just before Valentine's Day that includes shows in Memphis and Nashville. And then imagine my surprise when at the bottom of the show calendar there's a little note about a house concert in Prospect, Ky.

Total disbelief ensued, but I replied to the email and asked (okay, begged) for details.

It was true. Dayna Kurtz was playing at a house concert in Louisville, the tickets were $15 (including wine, beer, Bourbon, homemade paella, a potato frittata, and red velvet cupcakes), and I was freaking going.

I dragged sleepy pregnant Shannon out with me, and together we went to some strangers' house to listen to one of the singers who's made me fall in love, given me strength I didn't think I had, and reminded me how to daydream. She sat less than 10 feet away and could have been even closer if I hadn't been so starstruck.

Guess Who's Having a BABY!!!!

It's not me. There's no way my baby would ever have such scrawny little legs in utero. I would give birth to a hobbit.

So that's your hint... chicken legs. Now guess!

First I went to Natural Bridge. Then I dreamed it was blindingly foggy and I had to walk across that plank of death.

For St. Patrick's Day, we decided to go to the Gorge and do a little hiking, maybe meet up with our friends Lena and Dustin. Lena and Dustin are rock climbers, probably world famous ones but because they are in Kentucky, you'd never know it. Isn't that weird how people can be heroes elsewhere and completely ignored in Kentucky? I'm looking at you, Sam Shepard.

Anyway, since it was Spring Break, we got up about 1, finally got to the Gorge around 2, then Mack had to eat tofu pizza at a place called Miguel's, and finally at about 3 we started the hike to Natural Bridge. Mack had never been there before and it'd been almost a decade since my last visit, so it was awesome. Maybe the degree of awesome has something to do with how drunk on sunshine I was, but for now, I'm giving all the credit to Kentucky. You hear that Kentucky? I have given you one point for your combination of tofu pizza, beautiful scenery, and sunshine. Relish in it.

The type of proud a 1-mile hike will get you.

Still have no idea how this was formed? Anyone?

Nature's Size Restrictions

I did not have to turn sideways to fit through this thing. That was nice. Even though I look like a fat ass in this picture.

Fearless. Because he does not have a built-in toochie alert system.

Crack kills. So do ledges.

Taking it in like a leisurely Daniel Boone.

This was nothing after those bridges in Ghana.

After the hike, we found some spotty cell phone reception and caught up with Dustin and Lena, who'd been in the throes of a plumbing disaster all day. We went with them for a "soda pop" and ended up at "a gigantic rock wall on the side of the road that I had no clue existed even though we'd driven past it 3 times." It's called Road Side. It is beautiful.

They wanted to scramble in a climb before the sun went down, so we craned our necks and watched these spider monkeys go where no man was meant to go. Then I took a turn.

This is half of the madness of Road Side.

About a million waterfalls above and below us.

And they're off.

And off some more, all the way to the top!

Dustin makes it look harder than Lena but easier than it is.

My turn! Yeah, there aren't any ropes. Yeah, I'm all of 2 feet off the ground.

Mack dreaming big.

I'm already bored on Spring Break and it's only Tuesday.

Today I googled myself. Here are the results:

Actress best known for her role in Hook. As an adult, she is still more widely known for her childhood role in Hook than I am for anything. Interestingly, I, too, was a child actress, playing the role of Mom Whose Face Was Scraped to Shreds from a Failed Bike Jump off the Porch in the thriller called The Case of the Gone Gobbler.

Photographer in Toronto who has "been able to take my passion for photography and fuse it with my love of design." This is not me, but I also do that, only instead of half dressed, red-lipped waifs, I take photos of fat babies, pregnant ladies, and optimistic brides. 

Author of romantic novels and screenplays, many of which answer such questions as "Have you ever wondered what it would be like to travel back in time? To howl at the moon? To kiss a girl?" Again, this is not me. SHUT UP LEIGH. AND SHANNON.

Thanks to my husband, I don't have to get raped by mechanics anymore.

While it's not exactly the comeback I wanted (one featuring sand and coconut scented lotion and a cooler of Corona), it was nice to see my beach towel making an outside appearance yesterday while Mack changed the brake pads.

And in case you missed that, Mack changed the brake pads. In our driveway. Without power tools. And it only cost us $31.78 plus $12 for a weird cube piston tool.

Like my beach towel, Mack's handiness rarely makes an appearance, but when it does, it makes being married totally worth it.