Step 44: My Life, The Ben Folds Musical

It's no secret that I am a huge Ben Folds/Ben Folds Five fan, have been since I was a kid. My sisters are pretty big fans as well, and we always marvel at his vast array of discography. A while back, it was mentioned amongst us that a musical of anyone's life could be made with only Ben Folds or Ben Folds Five music. On my flight from Salt Lake to Pittsburgh this Christmas, I decided to use my spare time to write my very own Ben Folds musical of my life. I decided which songs would go for which year of my life. Here it is:

1 -5 years old: Gracie and Philosophy and For All the Pretty People
6 - 10 years old: Kate and She Don't Use Jelly and Bastard
11 years old: Jane
12 years old: Alice Childress
13 years old: Air
14 years old: Underground
15 years old: Best Imitation of Myself and Rockin' the Suburbs
16 years old: Not the Same
17 years old: Julianne and Song for the Dumped

Intermission: Mitchell Lane and Steven's Last Night in Town and Fred Jones Pt 2 and Magic

18 years old: Your Redneck Past and Army
19 years old: Wandering and Jackson Cannery
20 years old: Zak and Sara and Still Fighting It
21 years old: Landed and Regrets
22 years old: Annie Waits and Don't Change Your Plans and Evaporated
23 years old: Late and Video

....choreography to follow.

Step 43: Accomplish Great Things

I have been trying to apply to graduate school over the past few weeks. It has been a totally irritating process, and I really have got nothing done so far which is so typical of me. While filling out applications, I keep running across the same question: What is one of your greatest accomplishments (or something to that tune). It's pretty standard, I know, but always a difficult question for me. You see, I am excellent at being a face in the crowd and making snide comments under my breath, not for being captain of the whatever or leader of the X. And besides, shouldn't it be obvious what my greatest accomplishment is? I'm applying for graduate school which means I GRADUATED...but I feel like I can't write that. Every time I read this question, I start to zone out because it makes me feel like nothing is enough for these people.

While quietly zoning out the other day, one of my favorite childhood accomplishments came flooding back to me...

I was at my neighbor's house, Stephanie. She had this fancy basement with a laser-disk player that we would watch Tom and Jerry on all the time (and later in life we would switch out Tom and Jerry for Spice World...but that's another story). Her basement also had an awesome sound system hooked up with the laser-disk. I guess this was sort of lost on us since we only used it to watch cartoons, but her brother was very aware of the basement's capabilities.

Some how, a game got started with Steph and I and her brother who was five or six years older than us. The game was that we would each pick a song from his CD collection and make a dance routine to it. Her brother would then watch the dances and judge them.

Naturally, we would mostly pick No Doubt and Ace of Base songs, but there was one song we always wanted to pick but were too afraid: Janet Jackson - If. We had both tried dancing to the song before. For whatever reason, the beats of Janet Jackson proved to be far too superior for our elementary dance moves. Dancing to that song always meant a losing score. It was dance competition death to choose that song.

Well, after drinking a lot of Juicy-Juice and eating a bowl of Spaghettios, I felt like I was on-top of the world, and then we decided to play dance competition. I chose "If." Her brother kept warning me, begging me not to throw away the competition, not to seal my own fate. Stephanie hungrily licked her lips at what was turning out to be an easy win. "No," I told them both, "I want to do it."

I stuck to my instincts and danced to "If." When it was my turn to dance, I moved like I was on fire. Flailing about and doing cartwheel after cartwheel. I was going to win this dance to "If" no matter what. I wanted it so bad. All I really remember is thinking that I had to go faster.

My speed and effort paid off. When Steph and I both stood before our judge, I received a 9.5 (or something like that...I don't remember exactly). He said it was the highest score ever awarded for an "If" routine. I swelled with pride. I had decided what I wanted, went after it, and got it. A true Neeley- hard worker by day, dancer by night.

I know that most of you will read this and chuckle or, even better, roll your eyes, but I think it was my first sign of greatness. And I just can't stop thinking about a graduate board reading this story and thinking that I am insane which for some reason gives me a little bit of a smile. Plus, they already know my most recent greatest accomplishment- graduating - so why not give them my first as well?

Step 42: Curse Everyone on the Planet

I don't have cable because I tend to waste my life away watching horrible reality TV shows. (They just suck you in! You can't blame me! If something is flashy and shiny and has lots of screaming involved, I can't look away.) However, there are still some fabulous shows that I love on cable, so I just watch the shows that I like on Hulu every week to keep up and buy the shows later.

This has been a full proof method until 30 Rock: Season 4. I missed the beginning of the fourth season because I forgot that it started or something...I don't remember why, but the point is, by the time I realized my mistake, Hulu had already taken off the first few episodes. I decided that rather than watch the rest of the season without the beginning episodes, I would wait all year until it came out on DVD. It was a long. hard. 30 Rock-less. year.

Two weeks ago, I finally ordered and received the much anitcipated fourth season. I open the package and pull out the disc on the far left of the tri-fold case. I started watching it kind of late one night, and I ended up falling asleep after three episodes or so. The next day I watched the rest of the disc. I felt confused as to what exactly was going on, but I just attributed it to the fact that I watched the beginning few episodes sort of sleepy (being sleepy in my family is approximately the same as being on heroine, so who knows what I saw). I continued with the season, but I kept feeling confused.

Yesterday, I sit down to watch the rest of the last disc. I press "select episode" rather than "play all" and realize, to my horror, that I was watching disc 1. Some fool of a person put the discs into the case wrong! They were ordered 2, 3, 1. At that point, I basically went into a rage black out and cursed everyone on the planet (sorry, everyone on the planet).

But, after some deep breaths, extensive swearing, and kicking my feet on my floor until the guy under me hit the ceiling with his broom handle, I calmed down and started the season over. The right way.

Step 41: New Things I Have Been Doing On Repeat So You Should Probably Do Them Too

1. yelling "Neva heard of him/her/it" in a bizarre accent that sounds vaguely British

2. saying "bobsled" instead of "cool" for no reason...no reason at all

3. calling seventh graders with braces "metal-mouth" because they always act shocked and hurt no matter how many times you say it

4. wearing leggings as real pants even when people tell you things like, "you are always wearing your pajamas everywhere"

5. listening to the Robert Francis song "Mescaline" on repeat at home, in the car, in the work place, on walks and anything else I may do

6. googling the word mescaline on your school computer where the district watches everything you do over and over as you look for the Robert Francis song "Mescaline"....they probably didn't even notice, right?

7. telling your students that you are going to stab your eyes out if they click that pen one more time, and then when they inevitably click their pen one more time, fall to your knees and drive your thumbs into your eyes while some of the girls yelp and gasp in shock even though this is a daily occurrence in class

Step 40: Get Mean. Get Real Mean.

I teach seventh grade English right now at Payson Junior High. I am exactly one week in, and it's been a bit harder than I expected sometimes. One boy would not stop yelling "double tird" at people on the first day of school. Another boy talks about boobs non-stop and thinks that I will believe him when he says, "I'm just supporting breast cancer." But, overall, I am enjoying my new job and my students.

However, I was recently informed that all of my students are not enjoying me. Today at my staff meeting, the foods teacher informed me of a conversation she had with a student we share...

Foods Teacher: How are your classes going?

Student: They're okay...I don't have a lot of classes with my friends...which sucks.

Foods Teacher: What about your teachers?

Student: I have the MEANEST English teacher.

Foods Teacher: Oh yea? Who is your English teacher?

Student: Ms. Neeley...she yells at us all the time and wants us to read a lot.

When I heard this story, I couldn't believe it! This student was from my one class that I don't ever have problems with. I have not yelled at them once! AND we have been doing fun group assignments and easy tasks. AND they've gotten candy almost everyday for being so well behaved and working hard on their assignments.

Well, if that boy thought I was mean before, wait until tomorrow. Ms. Neeley just got mean. For real this time.

Step 39: Only Be Attractive Outside of Your Home Country

What. In. The. Hell.

Every single time a guy hits on me, he is foreign. Which is not a bad thing...I like other countries just as much as the next guy; in fact, I probably like them more. But, I just don't get why the only men who EVER think I am attractive have a thick accent and have only been living in the US for a short time.

I have three theories:

1. Men from other countries appreciate a nice healthy butt (a nice way of saying an enormous rear end...which I have).

2. Men who are checking me out are new to America and are thus attracted to ANYTHING American including Hilary Clinton, obesity, diet pop, littering, western movies, the "NOW" CD's, and Nickelodeon.

3. Men who are fresh off the boat think I am a catch because they have lived in America for such a short time that they have not yet seen the full spectrum of what the female American has to offer.

Whatever the actual reason may be, I would like to know why native English speakers can't ask a girl out once in a while!

PS - To all of my foreign admirers out there- broken English + poorly executed pick up lines + plus taking my picture when I'm not looking (yes, that really did happen. Today. Twice by the same man.) does not really win me over.

Step 38: Get It From Your Momma

As many of you know, I am a half-assed vegetarian, a characteristic that gives me trouble on both sides. Real vegetarians and vegans find me even more insulting than meat-eaters, and meat-eaters find me dim-witted due to the fact that I avoid eating meat if possible.

My family falls into the "meat-eater" category. Now and then my family will give me a hard time about not loving meat. Once my mom even told me that not eating meat was just "abuncha liberal hocus pocus" (whatever that may mean). However, on my trip back to the east half of the US this summer, I realized that the apple does not fall far from the tree.

We noticed that the basement had a few mice roaming around in the ceiling, so we got mice traps to eradicate them. My mom bought a trap that consisted of a stick piece of paper to catch the mice and then the solution on the paper would make the mice fall asleep and eventually die. She set the paper in various places in the basement, and not long after, she noticed a mouse caught in the sticky paper, but not yet asleep by the magical sticky solution.

She was torn. She stared at the mouse for a bit, watching it writhe and whine on the paper. In the end, she decided to save the mouse. My mother gently removed the mouse from the paper, but the mouse was still covered in stickiness. Cradling the hurt mouse she was now calling Stewart Little, she attempted to rinse his sticky legs off in the sink. Try as she did, Stewart's legs remained sore and sticky. So, she put the mouse into a shoe box with a bit of peanut butter, cheese, and a wet paper towel so he would have water.

The next day, the mouse was perky and alert in his shoe box, almost fully recovered. My mom decided to spray him with Goo-Be-Gone to eliminate the stickiness. I was sure that this would finally be the end of Stewart. But, Stewart was a fighter. The Goo-Be-Gone freed his legs up and did not kill him. Once again, my mom left him with food and water for the night.

By the third day, Stewart was in perfect health. My mom was going to take him out of the shoe box and release him into the woods out back of our house. As my mom lifted Stewart out of the box in the kitchen to say good-bye, he sensed the danger he was in and lept out of her hands and behind our dishwasher, never to be seen again.

My mom now sets the metal traps that kill the mice and then leaves the dead mouse in the trap because she does not want to see the damage she has caused. Basically, she is a half-assed killer, like me. It's in my blood. Just like the wise Juvenile said, I get it from my momma.

Step 37: Love the 90's...and Don't Be Selective

(In response to Sarah Culp's July 28th blog post: "Why?" http://sarahandrobbie.blogspot.com/2010/07/why.html )

You say, "Why?" I say, "Why?" as well. Why have the musical stylings of Sugar Raye flown under the radar for so long? This summer I have been treated to sweet sound of Sugar Raye by radio DJ's across the country.

Reasons why Sugar Raye rules:

1. Mark McGrath has frosted tips.

2. Mark McGrath has rockin' facial hair.

3. The entire group has bangin' dance moves.

4. Mark McGrath has "McGrath" tattooed across his back in Gothic lettering.

5. All of their songs are catchy and heartfelt and were clearly created by real musical geniuses.

Reasons why Sarah drools:

1. She hates Sugar Raye. Fool!

2. Her brain is mud.

3. She is obsessed with baby strollers like some weird baby snatcher lady.

4. She can't ride roller coasters, fly on planes, or eat lunch meat because she is pregnant.

I am proud to say that this summer was the best summer of my life largely due to the fact that Sugar Raye songs were so abundant on the radio.

I am proud to say that I gave this youtube video another well-deserved hit. Enjoy!

Step 36: Diet

I am a woman; therefore, I have a complicated relationship with food. Most mornings when I wake up, I swear off food. Daydreams of starving myself- refusing food, filling up on water, etc.- cloud my head. These fantasies of a skinnier self are quickly blotted out by a binge meal around four in the afternoon where I eat until I want to explode. After the binge meal, my self-image can go in two directions: 1. Good- I feel good about myself for choosing to eat because healthy people eat and that's what I am. Screw Hollywood and their stupid images. 2. Bad- I feel bad about myself because I really do want to look like Karen Carpenter, but it's just so hard to starve to death!

My days of starving myself only to gorge later are over. I have discovered a new diet that keeps the back pockets of your jeans empty and your wallet full:

That's right, Otter Pops. A freezer full of these little guys is like having your very own snow cone factory. They are delicious, timeless, and have practically no nutritional value- good or bad. I can eat Otter Pops all day long, as many of them as I want and never actually consume anything more than flavored ice. And the best part is that while eating Otter Pops continuously, you won't want anything else! They are that dang good.

So throw your scales out the window, your pills down the drain, and your pants with elastic-band waist lines in the garbage. It's Otter Pop time!

Step 35: Discover ChatRoulette

This weekend, I discovered something that both horrified and amazed me: ChatRoulette. A site that randomly connects you to other people all around the globe for a video chat. A person can type the conversation or just speak to the other person directly. A person can also "next" whoever he or she was paired up with if he or she so chooses. Needless to say, I got "nexted" a lot. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I kept saying, "Nice Polo" or "Sweet soul patch."

This video sums up the ChatRoulette experience pretty well and is also aesthetically pleasing:

Step 34: Be An Animorph

I am an Animorph. Someone stole a shot of me while I was in mid-morph from a human state to a beaver.

Step 33: Fulfill Your Dreams

Today I went to One-Man-Band for breakfast. I ate a dish called "Hobo Dream;" thus, fulfilling my dream to be homeless.

Step 32: Dig Holes

No, not like the book.

I dig holes for a living. Not because I get paid to do it, but because my entire life consists of the metaphorical digging of holes.
I dig holes at home:

I never do my laundry until I am on my last pair of underwear. And of course, on the day when I wear my last pair of clean undies, I have no time to wash. I end up staying up all night doing laundry and homework because I was too lazy to do laundry two days before when I had nothing going on. I don't clean my room a little at a time. I wait until it is impossible to maneuver through the clutter on the floor and bed and then clean it. This, actually, turns my house into a literal hole.

I dig holes at school:

I procrastinate. I wait until the last possible second to complete things. One hour in between classes tomorrow? Perfect amount of time to write a four page paper. Think again, Liz.
I dig holes in conversations:

I am not capable of thinking before speaking. Words explode out of my mouth at a rate and volume that most people would not think humanly possible. Thus, the words come out much faster than I can think them. It sounds impossible, but it's real. This creates a hole when I start to say crazy things like just today when I started to tell my teacher, "I'm a loner...I hate everyone...haha...(he just stares at me)...I'll probably blow up the school..." That's a hole. There is no way out. Or when you tell someone with a horrible look "Why did you cut your hair?!" There's no way to get out of that hole. You're gone. You live in that hole.

I dig holes by telling too many lies:

Who doesn't lie now and then, honestly? But it's tough to keep them straight. Did you tell your English teacher that your brother died or that you were in an accident? Did I already use that excuse before with the same person? Or when you lies come out on the fly and they are crazy. It's like that Berenstein Bears book where the kids lie about a broken lamp. The lie gets so out of hand that there is an exotic bird in their story at one point. That's me. In a hole. With an exotic bird.

I dig holes by not saving money:

I guess I think that money just goes on forever even if I don't work. Because I just spend it. Fast. I want pizza that I can only eat half of and will throw the rest away. I want a shirt that I'll never wear. I want a sun dress in the winter. I drive all over the state because gas is free, right? Then one day I realize that I have no money. And my credit card bill is due. And I don't work for four days. And I have no food. So I eat Ramen. That I stole from my roomate. Yes, I steal Ramen Noodles. Sometimes, I'm that far in a hole.

Step 31: Repeat Things

Repeat actions and phrases and anything else that can be. Such as:

Say, "You're stupid." over and over.
Read the same books.
Count. Anything. Everything. All the time. (There's meaningful senselessness in numbers.)
Watch the same episodes of television shows.
Say the same jokes.
Eat the same foods.
Use the same pens. Always.
Recycle.
Wear the same outfit three days in a row.

Step 30: Be Extreme

Say things like:

I'd rather put nails in my eyes.
I'll die first.
There's a bajillion people in here.
The temperature outside is negative fifty million.
I'll only ever love a Jew.
This whole state smells.
Christmas is for lunatics.
My life is over after that christmas card.
I don't own any good movies (books, clothes, etc.).
I'll never eat leftovers or camp food.
We live in two different worlds.
I am Harry Potter.
My arm fell off.

Step 29: Worry

Worry about everything, especially those things out of your control.

Growing up in Pennsylvania, I worried about Tornadoes. As soon as a Tornado watch or threat was issued, I was in the basement with blankets and flashlights. When the sky was cloudy, I searched every visible inch to see if it was green. Green meant tornado. Tornado meant basement. This obsession was constantly in the background for me.

Once I moved to Utah, I was briefly freed from this natural disaster anxiety. However, my tornado anxiety quickly turned into earthquake anxiety. The earthquake which is overdue for the Wasatch fault haunts me daily.


As soon as I lay down in my bed at night, my thoughts turn to the earthquake.
"What would I do right now if the ground beneath me began to shake?"
I ask myself this. I obsess over this.
"Would I grab my shoes? Is there time for that? Should I make time? It's freezing outside. Who knows when I will be able to get shoes again if the whole valley is destroyed. What about a coat? Food? How much time will I have before the building collapses on me? Should I grab my phone? My purse? What should be first in the list of items?"
I decide at this point that I need to prioritize.
"Okay, I will need some of these things. Better to die in the building getting a coat than freeze to death outside. Shoes first, then coat.
No wait.
Shoes first, then purse. I will need money. Or will money be obsolete? Would a coat be the same as $100 if everyone is freezing and starving. But my ID could be important."
At this point, I realize that none of these things are put in a place where I can easily grab them on my way out the door.
"Where did I leave my shoes? Where is my warmest coat? Ach! Everything is everywhere. Nothing in its place. Nothing has a place. Should I get up now and make places for things and prepare my belongings? It could come any second. Any second. And what about my phone..."
This continues until I fall into a fitful unsound sleep.

In the shower I have the same worry. What if the earthquake hit then?
"Would I gather my clothes? Would I dress first? Should I just leave in a towel? What's safer, inside or outside? Should I finish rinsing the soap out of my hair if hit right now?"
With this thought, I frantically rinse my hair so that I can avoid this problem all together. (My hair cut has helped this process of frantic thinking and rinsing tremendously.) Then the shower finishes. Clothes are applie hastily and something resembling relaxation begins.

At school.
"Where will I hide? What's my nearest exit? How sound is this building? How many seconds will it take for the building to collapse? Does it really make sense to attend my classes that are held in the basement? I will hide under my desk. It will protect my skull. But not my air. The building will collapse and the other dieing people will use up my air as they suffocate with me. No one will save me any breaths."

At work.
In the car.
At the neighbor's.
Out to eat.
Grocery shopping.
The mechanic.
The mall.
etc.
etc.
etc.

Step 28: Love Used Books

If you place your nose directly into the center
of a worn and used book-
not an inch above the page
but close
close enough to let the words dance into your body in a deep breath-
you can smell the story of a story.

You can smell the child's crayon
let loose on the pages of a parent's book
or the youthful grumblings
of required reading and book reports.

You can smell the warm coffee spilt and stained
in a bizzarre shape across page 162
as the reader popped up to answer the ringing phone,

or the frantic highlighting and underlining
of the college student determined to get an A,

or the dust of death which left a book
in a brown box under the stairs
until found years later by grandchildren,

and the quiet exchange of words on a page
as lovers read a book aloud in a green park
amidst the high rises and hustle of the city-

all kept alive between two dissolving covers,
between a beginning and an end,
the story within a story.

Step 27: Have and Keep Traditions

It is an old German tradition that eating pork and sauerkraut on New Year's Day will give you good luck throughout the year. So every New Year's Day, my family bakes up a pork roast and kraut to engage in the traditional feast of our ancestors.

However, this year was different. We had eaten a ton of food over Christmas. We had chocolates and raspberry tarts and mashed potatoes soaked in butter and piles of meat and more chocolates and more raspberry tarts. We were exhausted by the food we had eaten. After eating a thousand bagel bites and cheese sticks on New Year's Eve, we just didn't have it in us to eat that New Year's Day good luck meal. We decided to scrap the annual feast and try to digest the food we'd eaten the year before.

This was a big mistake. Our luck had finally run out. On Wednesday, January 27, our laundry room caught fire. Not just a baby fire. A real fire. With fire trucks and police. And smoke. And everything ruined. My family cannot even return to the home because of the smoke damage. It would be harmful for the kids to breathe in the air.

The moral of this story is: If it's not broke, don't fix it. Pork and kraut had been working for us for a long time. We had no business messing with century old wisdom. Sometimes you just have to force the food down even when your tummy is full.

Step 26: Appreciate the Good Works of Others

After a long day of school and work, I often like to kick back and relax by watching a half hour or so of whatever is on TV. Generally this would include whatever trashy reality show or countdown that is VH1, the Real World or something of the likes on MTV, E! True Hollywood Stories, or some version of Law and Order on USA or TNT.

Beginning fall of 2009, a new show was added to the normal relaxation line-up: Extreme Home Makeover on CMT. It started small for me; I only wanted to see the end of the show when they would "MOVE THAT BUS!" so that I could see the final result. Then I began to want to know more about the family's dire situation. By November it was my go-to show, and I was pissed if I missed the beginning therefore missing the entire family story. And every time, without fail, I cry a few small tears when the family first sees their brand new house. Whether I truly am touched for the family or I feel short changed because no one built a free house for me, I am not sure, but either way, it's an emotional moment for me.

So turn off your VH1 countdown, your Real World, your E! True Hollywood Stories, and start to appreciate the good works of others. Watch Extreme Home Makeover on CMT.

Step 25: Be Thankful

I know that people are normally thankful around Thanksgiving, but I feel like Christmas and New Year's is just as good a time to give thanks. So, that's exactly what I would like to do: Give thanks to everyone who made my Christmas this year the best Christmas.

(the whole Neeley clan minus mom, dad, and Ryan on Christmas morning)

Dad - Thanks for resembling a person who is sane this year. It really made a difference. Also thanks for paying for all of the presents that mom bought for us. You're the best.
Mom - Thanks for making bagel bites on New Year's Eve. They were delicious.
Sarah - Thanks for asking everyone in the family a billion times if they REALLY did like the present you gave them. That never gets old.
Robbie - Thanks for being obsessed with blueray players.
Ryan - Thanks for keeping everyone safe. We missed you this year.
JoAnna - Thanks for sleeping in the room that resembles a dungeon instead of my room.
Josh - Thanks for getting those crazy eyes now and then. It makes me nervous and excited at the same time.
Victoria - Thanks for getting married. It was a great way to buy extra things for ourselves with mom and dad's money with the excuse of "it's for the wedding."
Justin - Thanks Pending...
Steven - Thanks for playing an hours worth of Beatles Rock Band on vocals while singing in falsetto. I thought it was a joke at first, but it wasn't.
Eleanor - Thanks for looking like a hot, hot babe at Victoria's wedding.
Ruthe - Thanks for not clawing my eyese out. I always suspect that you might at any moment, so I'm glad that you never did.
Alex - Thanks for going comando to your physical. That was the best story I heard all Christmas.
Amber - Thanks for saying Margot about fifty times a day (no exaggeration). And thanks for saying hobo fifty times a day mom told you to stop saying Margot.
Olivia - Thanks for being just all around cute all the time. And for having pet rocks.