Alright... has anyone ever had the sensation, where they're hearing a song, some music which is presumably "new", and they KNOW they've heard it before?

I get that a lot.

Most often, it's the sensation that some song, supposedly "new", MUST have been out since 2002 at least, since I know I've heard it a few years ago. It's just this general unimpressed-ness with the song, and the insistence that it is truly nothing new. I've never been able to get to the bottom of that feeling, but my assumption is usually (to calm the cognitive dissonance) that perhaps the song IS older, but is just now being radio-released.

However, this is something altogether different.

This **new** sensation first occurred to me at some point last year, when I bought The Afters' album, I Wish We All Could Win and could have SWORN that the opening riff and lines were a loose rip-off of a song that I at first couldn't place, but eventually attributed to a semi-obscure Sixpence None The Richer song entitled "Brighten My Heart", which appeared on the collective worship project Exodus. However, after finally dragging this information out of the dustiest corners of my brain (it haunted me for weeks!), I discovered that the similarities were only tonal, thematic, and mostly, imagined. So my great song rip-off conspiracy theory died that day.

Today, however,I felt that prickling "I've heard this before" feeling creep up the back of my brain once more... and this time, my instincts were not wrong! Taking a listen of Hawk Nelson's album, Letters to the President (which, in my opinion, is a shamefully copped-out album title for a Canadian band just breaking on the American music scene), the song "Take Me" struck me, and the second line in particular stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Can you hear me, does anyone around me
Feel the way that I feel now?"

I was ON to something here! A little brain-searching, and I had the line tagged to the Dashboard Confessional song "Saints and Sailors", which opens with these lines:

"This is where I say I've had enough,
and no one should ever feel the way that I feel now"

I know, I know what you're thinking - that 7 words does not a conspiracy make. However, you'd have to be familiar with Dashboard's song to appreciate the feeling that rushes through you when you hear Hawk Nelson sing the line, 2nd line into the song in both cases, following the exact same melody and rhythm, even including suspending and delaying the delivery on the word "feel", that Dashboard made trademark (in my humble opinion) 4 years earlier. (Dashboard's The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most was released in 2001, while Hawk Nelson's Letters came out in 2005.)




So, what constitutes a rip off? Is this excusable? "Take Me" is a decent song, for what it's worth. Strong melody, although whether or not their style is a Relient K rip-off is an entirely different conversation; meanwhile, Dashboard's "Saints and Sailors" is classic for Carrabba fans. Or, alternately, is taking a line from someone's song, note for note, an appropriate and catchy "inter-musical reference"? Supposing the Hawk Nelson boys groove, as I do, to the sounds of Dashboard, is this nothing more than a musical "tip of the hat"?

I, for one, am not convinced. It's a pretty gutsy and presumptuous move for rookies like Hawk Nelson to make; besides the fact that they look about 14 years old, it makes them seem like they can't even write their own shaz. However, I'm interested to see where others weigh in on it... should I give Hawk Nelson the benefit of the doubt here?

Their musical careers have thus far produced nothing even faintly approaching blistering genius; however, there's time for that... geesh, let them get through puberty first! (tee hee... actually, they're probably my age.) And their album, while nowhere near worth the street cred of Relient K, is not half bad.

What's your take on the incident I've creatively dubbed "Nelsongate"? Leaving the legal implications aside, unless you have more information than I do, which is certainly not difficult given that I have taken about 5 minutes to investigate this before shooting off this post, how do YOU feel about Nelsongate? Does it anger you? Offend you? Confuse you? Perhaps make you bored or drowsy? Whatever your opinion, I'd love to hear it... give the tracks a listen if it's humanly possibly for you... just to get the gist of the rip-offage.


Your faithful reporter for all things useless,
~Kelly

Those of you with keen memories will recall my brief mention of the new roomie situation I am in this year. I promised to return to the topic, and return, I have. I will now share with you a tale that will chill you to the bone, that will make your hair stand on end, and your blood run cold...


Just kidding! In all truthfulness, the story of how Heidi became my roommate can only be described as a miracle.

About the time I was preparing to come home from Seattle, I had applied to the U of Winnipeg, had lined up several summer jobs for when I returned home, and, in typical Kelly fashion, I was already turning my concerns and attention several months down the road to my planned move to Winnipeg, and, of course, the details surrounding it.

Where to live? Who to live with? Well, I knew what I wanted. An apartment. A roommate (female. Christian.) Independence. The ability to have friends over, come home late, and cook or not cook as I feel so inclined.

My lovely ex-roommate Sarah (my little Sarita!) had, of course, made new living arrangements when I left for Seattle. So she was out... I kept going down the list. It turns out, I have a million girlfriends in Winnipeg, and they're all pretty well settled here; no one was looking for a new roomie!

Fast forward several months... It's late July. I've been accepted into the Faculty of Education, I'm feeling peace and confidence about my future (a first for me), and I'm just a few short weeks of moving... where? Oh crap! Still no roommate! Still no apartment! Cue the panic!

In a last-ditch effort to pull my life together, I embark on a long-shot... à la random friend from Ontario, the amazing Eric Dick! Literally hours before beginning my arduous, many-legged journey back across the continent, through Seattle, to Managua, Nicaragua with my dear American friends from Focus Youth, I happened upon Eric on MSN, and asked him, could he please ask his sister Heidi (whom at this point I'd met twice; once in Ontario, and once in Seattle!) if any of the girls from her site (Outtatown) might be looking for a female, Christian roommate in Winnipeg for the fall. Eric kindly informed me that Heidi herself had already made arrangements, and that frankly, asking her friends was a pretty big long-shot (thanks, Captain Obvious!) but said that he would of course ask for me... discouraged, and with panic rising, I signed off, finished packing, drove off to Winnipeg, embarked a plane to Calgary, to Abbotsford, met my dear Minta for some dinner and a ride back to Sno-ho, where I hung at the Jensens’ for several hours, saw Benny briefly, got a ride to Bothell, met the crew at the church, loaded into a van, and got on my third flight of the day, the 10hr one to from Seattle to Nicaragua. FUN TIMES!

The trip was great, the youth were AWESOME, so good to see... man, I miss those crazies.... and about mid-way through the trip I got a chance to check my e-mail... YAY!

Imagine my surprise when I open my inbox to see an e-mail from none other than Eric "Hot Stuff" Dick (yeah... made that nickname part up just now) entitled "apartement" (don't ask me why "Hot Stuff" can't spell)!

Basically, the long and short of it was that somehow, over the course of the some-odd days since I'd chatted with Eric last, Heidi's airtight plans for a roommate had fallen through, and she was frantically looking for a replacement since she had already put a security deposit down on an apartment on Pembina Hwy close to the UofM (where she was planning on going).

Over the next several days, some rudimentary "get-to-know-ya" e-mails were sent back and forth, along with the obligatory apartment details; rent costs, location, etc; and to sum it all up, by the time my similarly-fragmented return trip from Managua had deposited me back in Winnipeg, I had appointment set up with Pembina Place apartments and Heidi's boyfriend Ben to check out the place and put my signature on a lease.

Oh, how I LOVE those moments! You know the ones... the ones where you have been waiting in limbo, in the midst of an overwhelming conundrum, in need of something that you have no earthly way of attaining, looking for a solution that is completely beyond your means and out of your hands... those moments where you have for once given things completely over to God... and have the incredible blessing of receiving the most perfect, unique, personalized gift straight from His hands! How blessed am I that that is exactly how it's happened with both my roommates thus far?

September rolls around and to Winnipeg I come... get my Mac (yay!), get moved in, get settled, and get acquainted with my roomie....

I guess the one thing you should consider, when moving in with Eric Dick's sister, is that she's Eric Dick's sister. And the apple apparently doesn't fall from the... other apple. Sooooooo... If Eric happens to enjoy bullying you as a pastime.... guess what Heidi might enjoy as well? If Eric happens to enjoy throwing things at you... what do you think living with his sister might be like? And if Eric has spent the vast majority of his life thus far inflicting light-hearted torment on those closest to him.... where might Heidi have learned it all?

I've been keeping a mental tally of all the cruel and hostile things Heidi has done to me lately, just so's I can keep a constant gauge on the abuse, which to date includes:
-heat deprivation: hydro costs a ton at our place, so my Nazi/Mennonite roommate (wow- bet those 3 words have never been linked quite like that before!) has decided that we just won't use any heat till either our possessions gather frost or our refrigerator unit is deemed superfluous.
-the afore-mentioned chucking things at me: usually soft things, but she does have a pair of skates so I'm concerned.
-calling me names: not them nice, fluffy pet names, either.... mean ones!

Those of you who are concerned for my welfare, don't worry; Child and Family Services has been notified, and they've informed me that they couldn't care less....

And in truth, Heidi's and my differences are, in truth, really just nuances.
She bullies, and I rant.
She studies, and I... don't.
She bakes constantly, and I talk about cooking. (It's a beautiful concept, isn't it?)
She sleeps all night, and I sleep all morning.
She owns a Dell (shudder!), I own a Mac.
She goes to UofM, I go to UWinnipeg.
She's got a boyfriend with a car, and I'm married to public transit.
She works out at the gym, and I... swing dance!
She plays hockey and soccer, and I play acoustic guitar (poorly).
She loves America's Next Top Model, and I'm ALL about Survivor.

Heidi and I thrive on, I think, on the principle that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
We're both benefiting from each other's unique and peculiar characteristics. I've started watching America's Next Top Model (okay, so I used to be a closet fan), and Heidi's getting quite into this season of Survivor (sniff... I'm so proud)! She lets me eat her baking, and if I ever actually start cooking, she'll be the first to taste it (actually, let's not lie, she'll probably be the second). And she's even very generously offered to lend me Ben in certain contexts to fend off creepy guys... don't think she actually ran that one by Ben first, but her heart's in the right place, nonetheless. Ben's given me rides before (THANKS BEN!), and I've tried to help Heidi become less hopeless with Winnipeg's Bus System.

Now let's be serious; some things will likely never change. It's unlikely she'll ever stop her Eric-like teasing, and I'll probably remain unable to refrain from ranting about tech support, boy troubles, commercials that I object to "on principle", and pretty much everything that crosses my stream of consciousness. She's not taking up swing dance anytime soon, and it would take an act of God to make me see exercise as even remotely worth the effort. I think UofM is the devil, and Heidi thinks my Mac is "just being difficult!"

So here's the breakdown; Heidi and I are very good for each other.

Plus, she's a fun time. She puts up with me when I barge into her room every 10 minutes with a new thought to share, my messy ways and the 1-week intervals between my dish-washing binges. She indulges my whims, including hosting a birthday party with an unusual premise and a quite random and extensive guest list. She wakes me up in the mornings on those occasions where it's absolutely necessary that I awaken on time. And in return, she gets free access to all the random shows I've dowloaded onto my Mac, use of the printer, and... yup, that's pretty much all I've got to offer.

Life with Heidi so far has been much more colorful than I could have possibly imagined, and for a girl whom I'd talked to only twice and exchanged about a half-dozen e-mails with prior to September, she's been pretty dang incredible!

Heidi, I'm turning 21 today. I'm entering into a new phase of my life, and it's about time I started putting my foot down. We've discussed this before, but I think it's important to let you know, Heidi, that as of today, there's a NEW sheriff in town.... me! That's right, Heidi, starting NOW, I'm gonna be the one ruling the roost! It may take you some time, but soon, you'll be singing the praises of this new system! That's right! I'm reclaiming authority over the thermostat! We're going to live in toasty, roasty happiness from this day forth!

Folks, wish me luck. This could get messy. (And expensive).

P.S. 15 Kelly-points if you can find and identify the little "bonus" in this post.

Those who know me personally know the somewhat volatile relationship I have at times with my little sister; it's the type that can be most accurately described as love/hate. (I should specify that the love vein runs deep and constant, while that pesky hate is really more of an easy irritability that often rears its' ugly head.)

Is anyone with me on how frustrating this sister thing is? (Or sibling relations in general, for the testosterone-endowed among us.) I can fully accept that I'm a basket case in almost all aspects of human life, but there's nowhere I feel my relational inadequacies as acutely as when confronted with a head-to-head with my baby sister. What IS IT that makes it so impossible to find common ground with someone with whom I share my genes, my values, my world-view, my last name, and my past?

We're so different; we're SO alike. Stubborn, independent, fierce, opinionated, loyal, defensive, drop-dead gorgeous (!), and proud.

I'm two years minus 3 weeks older than Megan, and to talk to her you'd never know it. My older sister, she admires; my older sister, she respects. Me, she usurps. It feels like she's made it a goal in life to overtake me! I think the root of my frustrations as an older sister (it's my only chance, you know) is that she's constantly depriving me of my primary right as her elder: adoration.

Did she adore me when we were younger? Hmm... it's really hard to recall; she was too busy chasing me around the kitchen-living room-dining room loop in our house with large blunt objects to really come out and say so; maybe it was there, deep down.

What about in our teenage years? Well, by then I was too busy making a part-time job out of humiliating her with my lightning-fast wit, so once again, opportunity lost.

I do have these small victories, though. However much she hates the thought of it, I do hold some sway in her life. So to console myself I have formed a small mental tally over the years of things that she does that I "did first"; things, of course, I converted her to.

From the bands I told her for years that she would love, to the snowboarding (a work in progress), I like to THINK I am responsible in some small way for her finer moments, her wiser choices. She maintains that it's incredibly frustrating how I take credit for all her ideas and decisions (when they're good), but I KNOW, deep down, that some small credit is due me for the path she's carving in life.

An occasion for such celebration came lately, when I opened my e-mail to read an out-burst of rationale of a type I'd never quite encountered in a Megan e-mail before; she was telling all her friends to see the light in regards to those pesky and poorly executed threat-like chain mails that are endlessly circulating, pretending to be from the creators of Hotmail or whoever; and demanding that you harass 18 or more friends by proliferating some useless junk mail just to keep your free but crappy e-mail account. Megan's response? Well, it was short, but it was sweet, and my heart just swelled with pride as I read it.

Time stood still. The whole earth seemed to pause and hold its breath in expectation. And finally, finally, my little sister stopped fighting her destiny, and took her first baby steps in becoming more like me.

It's all in the ranting.

People, this is proof positive! I mean, I knew she must at least have learned some things in life from me, and THIS is one of them! I mean, ranting is my LIFE! I can't go more than 18 hours without spilling my guts in the most burdensome fashion on those poor unfortunates standing nearby! If you're on my phone list, in the Inter-faith room, or in my e-mail address book, look out! I just may puke up all of my frustrations of the moment on you in one swift blow! (Yes, I KNOW it's excessive, and Yes, I'm SORRY. If you've ever been a victim of ME, I'm seeking professional help. It's why I've become a blogger. To rant into earless cyberspace.)

But back to Megan, whatever the foundational causes of your sudden outburst of conviction and opinion, I've never been so proud!

Okay, alright. All wild and unintelligable ranting aside, as much as I like to joke (much to Megan's chagrin) that all her finest and wisest moments are mere emulations of me, her secret hero, the reality is (as I can no longer deny it) that Megan Lee Cochrane is really coming into her own. Have you MET her lately? I mean, she's always looked like my older, hotter sister (much to MY chagrin), but watching her navigate friendships, school, life, being half-handicapped, and deeply religious- lately, I'm seeing something I've never seen in her before. My baby sister's becoming her own woman! (Insert cheesy sob here.)

Okay, stop your cheesy sobbing. I'm being serious.

It is, right now, the eve of Megan's 19th birthday. Yes folks, as of a half-hour from now, she's legal in Saskatchewan! But we all know what this is really about: For the next 3 weeks her 19 will look pretty formidable up next to my 20, and you can bet she's gonna be doing her darndest to close the gap. So Megs, go for it! Giver' hoss! For the next 3 weeks, you can be my slightly younger, slightly hotter, better-than-ever little sis. And I'm going to treat you with the dignity you deserve! I'm going to brag about you, tell all my friends, and even hook you up for a couple blind dates! (Oh, the generosity of me...) But after that, I'm resuming my rightful role:

That annoying thing that popped out 2 years minus 3 weeks ahead of you in life.

Happy Birthday, Megan. You're Awesome. You're 19. And you still dance circles around me any day.

So who's the idiot now?

Yup, me. Again.

My last post invited you all to catch up on my latest writing endeavours, as I shared an article I wrote for my church on homosexuality. Unfortunately, at the time it went to print, I was still at a loss for words when it came to the all-important title. I was drawing a great blank, and, unwilling to submit any of the crap that was floating through my exhausted stream of consciousness, I submitted the article and left its christening at the mercy of our church secretary.

Which was the idiotic act in question. And in retrospect, one deserving of what happened next.

My wonderful, skilled, well-meaning co-worker, Mary, titled the article for me, printed the hundred-plus copies of the newsletter, prepared them for mailing, and took her family for a fabulous getaway down to Disneyland for a week. I, the incompetent hack, spent most of my week sleeping off a cold and forgot/neglected to mail these newsletters in a timely fashion, proving to all within the zip code how unreliable free labor is and how truly irreplaceable our dear Mary is.

Our senior pastor's wife, with whom I stay, commented to me this afternoon how much she enjoys my writings, and I surmised correctly that the newsletter must have arrived in the mail sometime today. So it was with anticipation that I sat down this evening to catch up on church news and, of course, to admire my work in print.

(Oh look- an announcement for a special drama presentation coming up this... oh wait, LAST Sunday... ooops. Perhaps that might have been more useful in last week's mail!)

Anyways, there it was, page 2. This wordsmith's latest opus, succinctly entitled...

"Love the Sinner, Hate the Sin"

uugh.

Well, if I had had any delusions of grandeur or innovative thought, I think that title pretty much killed them all. Ladies and gentlemen, I think I've just been shot in the foot.

Readers, if you are currently trying in vain to understand what it is about this seemingly common evangelistic phrase that is evoking such a violent uproar in my spirit, I will begin by saying that that phrase eludes to a current of theology and popular Christian thought that I definitely don't subscribe to and in truth find very dangerous and offensive. Reverend Ken Collins wrote a piece that I think provides a great foundation for understanding my objections to the phrase on his website, which I've linked to above... however, back to my rant.

Mary, if you're reading this, I love you to death and value you immensely. And you should be thanked for teaching me a valuable lesson. Whether or not I ever take up my pen professionally is still a query better directed towards the heavens; however, if I do, I will never again depreciate the value of a carefully-crafted title. After seeing in print the cadaver of my once-editorial, I can now profess the incalculable merit of a well-selected headline.

Alright. It's almost midnight, the shock is waning, and there's only so much a girl can lament such an ultimately fickle loss. So I am very nearly finished here. However-

I'd like to close with a moment of silence (hats off, please), as we conclude this sad eulogy. I'm very hopeful that you can, indeed feel my pain, for I myself am still a bit mournful at the loss; 1,032 words' worth of solid thought and careful commentary, so deftly nullified by 6 short, sloppy, and indiscriminate ones : one noun, its derivative, two antonyms, and two of the single most common word in the english language.