Good Evening. This is your pilot, Prince, speaking…


Greetings, pals!

What’s happening at this very moment? I just ingested multiple spoons full (not spoonfuls…right? It would be spoons full. Like the plural of ‘mother-in-law’ is ‘mothers-in-law’…yeah? Moving on…) of JIF Hazelnut. That’s the JIF knockoff of Nutella. It’s super good…but I’m trying to ignore the fact that two tablespoons contain 230 calories. Oops.

I’m just sitting in my studio on a Sunday night, painting my nails and trying not to disturb the sleeping kitty behind me.

I wish I could fall asleep as quickly and as contorted as Allen can.

I wish I could fall asleep as quickly and as contorted as Allen can.

For this post, I was considering doing a countdown or list of some sort, but my creative juices are currently being absorbed by cheap knockoff hazelnut spread. So, let’s see what happens.

February is 5 days away. Just in time for me to not be in a relationship for Valentine’s Day. But hey, last February was when I got my silky leopard print sheets! They were on a display that featured silky sheets, candles, and other romantic things. Dude, silky sheets and candles are my LIFE. At this moment, I have a stick of incense burning and 3 candles lit. I blame my need for constant chill mood setting on my Prince obsession, which started at an extremely young age.

If you find this in a room at your Grandma’s house, you’re going to listen to the entire thing over and over...and not realize that the ‘1’ on the cover is a penis until you’re 21-years-old.

If you find this in a room at your Grandma’s house, you’re going to listen to the entire thing over and over…and not realize that the ‘1’ on the cover is a penis until you’re 21-years-old.

Yes, I own three copies of ‘Purple Rain’ on digital video disc, or DVD, as the kids say. Yes, I own multiple books on Prince, some of which are just picture books of him being coy and wearing fanciful suits and blindfolds. Worth the money, people. I love the man! (I actually own a fourth Purple Rain…but only those who know what I’m talking about know what I’m talking about.)

Prince also plays a large role in my slow jam/babymaking music obsession. I can’t get enough slow jamz. My iPod was innocently on shuffle one time when I had a group of people in my Malibu (rest in pieces), and I was asked why I only listened to babymaking music. I hadn’t realized that I did, in fact, have a constant need for dirty beats and saxophones.

Boyz II Men blasted a lot in my house when I was little. A couple of years ago, I asked my mom why I was allowed to sing every single word of ‘I’ll Make Love To You‘ before I was allowed to put my own straw in my juicebox. (Note to self: straw in the juicebox is a GREAT euphemism.) She said she didn’t really know; it didn’t bother her. Well, I did have mad singing skills that early, so it was probably a treat to hear a little fat white girl with a mullet NAIL ‘End of the Road’.

"How can you love me and leave me and never....SAY GOODBYE?"

“How can you love me and leave me and never….SAY GOODBYE?”

Recently, in Palo (as every amazing story starts), my cousins and I took over the jukebox, where we made the bar listen to ‘Private Dancer‘ by Tina Turner and ‘Red Light Special‘ by TLC. My cousin’s husband told me that I was going to be responsible for all children conceived that night. I welcome that burden. Also, once I did a rousing karaoke rendition of ‘Darling Nikki‘ by Prince at the same bar…and prompted my cousin’s husband to yell “IT SMELLS LIKE SEX IN HERE.” We are class acts. Hell, just a few weeks ago I did ‘Bump n Grind‘ by R. Kelly at Mickey’s Downtown karaoke, and had 6 drinks waiting for me at the bar afterwards.

THE POINT IS….everybody loves a good slow jam. Whether it’s meant to serve a mood, you’re obsessed with the style, you’re trying to get free drinks at the bar during karaoke or your Catholic upbringing and constant questioning led you to a Keith Sweat album. Me? I just like the silky TLC pajamas, the incense and candles, the wine, the gritty saxophone solo, the explicit lyrics, and the fact that a song can make a person’s body feel stuff. Good stuff. Oh, and En Vogue choreography never hurt a slow jam. But, when in doubt, just thrust….a lot.

Like this.

Like this.



P.S. All My Love


Happy Wednesday, internets! I woke up with this song in my head and have listened to it about 4 times so far this morning…

At the end of this live clip, Chris Robinson says, “If you’re smiling with the cosmos, the motherfuckin’ cosmos is smiling back atcha.” I love that man. I love this song. I love The Black Crowes. Moving on…

Wednesdays have become my unofficial weigh-in days. Guess what? Eating more WORKS! My Fitness Plan had been telling me that I wasn’t eating enough calories and that my body was probably in starvation mode, but I felt like I was eating more than enough. SO I changed my ways and actually upped my daily intake to what was recommended….dumb science has to be right all of the time. I’m losing again even though I feel like I’m stuffing myself. Huzzah! Have I told you about my recent half inch gain in my boob region? I’ll credit that one to my shoulder presses. Or the mantra “I must, I must, increase my bust!”

Anything else worth sharing right now? Hmm…nope. Not really. I’ll have some pieces of wisdom for you soon, I promise.


Here It Goes Again…


Ba-Dah…Dah-Dah-Dah….DAH! *choreographed treadmill dancing*

Ok, no treadmill dancing, but I’m back to religiously updating, writing, and embarrassing myself for your entertainment. It is what I do best, after all.

You may have noticed that I’ve completely redone the blog. Everything is posted as it should be, not on separate pages. I managed to timestamp everything correctly, so everything is in order and easier to find/link to (hint hint)…

Since I haven’t posted since *gulp* AUGUST, Here’s a monthly recap of what’s happened….



– Sang a wedding

– Continued as lead singer/keyboard player of my band

– Went to State Fair where I watched my friend eat fried butter on a stick and saw Boyz II Men within 24 hours of each other.

– Other stuff, I’m sure…



– Sang a wedding

– Still rocking

– Said goodbye to one of my favorite professors at ISU

– Did tailgating/football things



– Vikings/Titans Game with my boys

– Saw Springsteen in Ames

– Started performing live in DSM with my band

– Halloweened it up with my buddy Cam



– Voted/Saw Springsteen (again), Jay-Z, and Obama in Downtown DSM/Went to my first gay bar all in 24 hours

– Had a blast at RAWards 2012 at Wooly’s

– Had my first Thanksgiving away from home with my lovely friend Jade and her family

– Unexpectedly and tragically lost a friend the week after Thanksgiving, and became more openly loving to the friends I have



– Went bridal fashion shopping with my best friend, Heather

– Took a couple Ames trips to celebrate birthdays/visit pals

– Joined a real life gym and started real life workouts (Grays Lake got a bit too chilly)

– Went home for the holidays and saw my favorite people

…and here we are in January!

I promise to be more exciting and consistent with my posts. I do too much stupid stuff for good stories. I have to let you know.


Bangs Like Snuffy’s Lashes


It’s the first day of classes for most students. I am no longer a student…of a formal educational institution. I still study at the school of life, yo! Yikes.

Some groovy things going on this week:

1) Yesterday, I caught the Boyz II Men show at Iowa State Fair. It was spectacular. It was packed. There were old toothless white men pumping their turkey legs in the air during ‘On Bended Knee’. Fabulous.

By far, the highlight of the show was during ‘I’ll Make Love To You’ when the three remaining members handed out long-stemmed red roses to the crowd. Oh, the sultry, smooth sounds…

Also, I did the running man during ‘Motown Philly’. As if that even had to be SAID.

2) Plans have been solidified for our 3rd Annual Metrodome Trip! Two years ago, me and my flock of boys went to the Vikings/Cowboys game in October. Last year, we went to the Vikings/Raiders game. It was so insanely cold…why did we go in November? This year, we’ll be at the Vikings/Titans game on October 7th. I am so amped! It’s always a fantastic time, and we Vikings fans are so nice! We share beer and tailgate food! And old men love me and my legs! Works for me…

Me and a flock of boys. #mylife

3) I added strength training to my running, and am FEELING IT BAD. Seriously. Last night, I could barely fall asleep because my biceps were so sore. Aleve Liqui-Gel Capsules are my life savers. I’m hoping the addition of strength training helps amp up the metabolism. I’ve also gone from full on meals to having small portions more often during the day. So far, it’s working swell. 20 lbs to go before I’m satisfied. COME ON, MCDONOUGH.

4) I’m heading to NEIA this weekend to sing my buddy’s wedding. (He’s in the white shirt on the top left in the Vikings photo.) I’m muy excited to see all of my people, sing, get cash, and suit up in wedding attire all weekend. The reception crosses the border into Wisconsin, so that shall be a great time. I will either break something, lose something, or fight something…or all of the above. It’s usually all of the above. Oh, weddings…and wine…and dresses…these things tend to get me in deep.

Happy Monday, pals! Make something awesome this week!


In My Own Head


An example of how my brain works. This thought process just happened.

*thought to myself that I should turn my air conditioning on*
*started a fake internal monologue with “I’m going to turn you on,” Liz said to her air conditioner.*
Pulled this up on YouTube and listened to the whole thing.

So, yes. I am an absolute psychopath.

Anyway, how are you today?


Six Songs Of Me: Playlist Project


NPR recently blogged about a research study from musicologist Eric Clarke. The Guardian recently launched “Six Songs of Me”, a project to get as many personal playlists as possible. The six songs are not chosen at will, but rather by answering these six questions:

  • What was the first song you ever bought?
  • What song always gets you dancing?
  • What song takes you back to your childhood?
  • What is your perfect love song?
  • What song would you want at your funeral?
  • Time for an encore. One last song that makes you, you.

I had to give a lot of thought to each so I wouldn’t overthink my picks. Does that make sense? Yes, it does. Kind of. Anyway, here is the list I came up with based on the questions.

1) What was the first song you ever bought?  Middle of Nowhere (album) – Hanson

I’m cheating a little bit on this one. I got the Middle of Nowhere cassette, but if we’re narrowing it down to one specific song, I most definitely bought it for’ MMMBop’, but soon fell in love with ‘I Will Come To You’, ‘Yearbook’, and all the classic Hanson B Sides on that album.

What does this say about me? Probably that I was 7-years-old, had tingles for Taylor Hanson, and severely loved everything about manufactured 90s pop. Still do!

What song always gets you dancing? Red Light Special – TLC

This is a random one. For dance song, most would choose an upbeat song they can’t help but get up to and shake their moneymakers. However, if you know anything about me, you know that I CAN’T GET ENOUGH BABYMAKING SLOW JAMZ. And Red Light Special is one of the best. You have to get up and swerve, snake, whip your hair, and do En Vogue arm movements to this one.

What does this say about me? Probably that my Catholic upbringing made everything sexy seem really bad and dirty and AWESOME! OMIGOD I NEED THIS FILTH!

What song takes you back to your childhood? Quit Playing Games With My Heart – Backstreet Boys

Whether it was hauling ass in my pink Barbie roller skates around my garage to it, or making my Barbies have rough, confusing “I think this is what sex is” sex to it, BSB’s debut album was consistent in my childhood. (A lot of my childhood was smashing my Barbies’ non-existent genitalia together.)

Quit Playing Games With My Heart, I’ll Never Break Your Heart, We’ve Got It Goin’ On…all fantastic. The ‘As Long As You Love Me’ video with the folding chair dancing? UGH. Perfection.

Also, shirtless boys with long hair singing in the rain. Nick Carter, there’s always a spot in my heart for you.

What is your perfect love song? Everlong – Foo Fighters

Gorgeous. Grohl. Just the first measure of this song makes my heart flutter and turns my eyes to tunnel vision for romance. Whether it’s the acoustic or electric version, it’s gorgeous and lovely and perfect.

“If everything could ever feel this real forever/if anything could ever be this good again/the only thing I’ll ever ask of you/you’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when…” Always be there giving warm fuzzy romantic touchy unavoidable magnetic inseparable love. My chest is heavy just thinking about the riff.

What song would you want at your funeral? Shine A Light – Rolling Stones

It’s bluesy, it rocks, it has a choir, it has gorgeous lyrics, and it’s got good organ! Off of Exile On Main Street, this is one of my favorite Stones songs period. It’s rocking enough that people won’t be upset that I died in that freak explosion. (That’s what I’m assuming is going to happen)…

“May the good lord shine a light on you/make every song your favorite tune/may the good lord shine a light on you/warm like the evening sun…” Now, POUND THAT PIANO! Also, it mentions being left drunk in an alley.

One last song that makes you you? Jungleland – Bruce Springsteen

Nine minutes and thirty-three seconds of pure emotion. Quiet piano to rushing rock to soaring saxophone solos that make you break down and cry…and the perfect inspirational resolve. So good. It turns 9 minutes into a split second and a lifetime.

It makes you want to fight, love, reconcile, hold a grudge, let go, and hold on. It’s perfect.

“Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades hustling for the record machine/The hungry and the hunted explode into rock & roll bands/That face off against each other out in the street down in Jungleland…”

So, what are the Six Songs of You? I’m anxious to hear!


Doll Parts/Doll Heart: More Tall-Bodied Woes


Just went to my NEW doctor in my NEW city. It was a pleasant experience. I’ve had ear issues since I can remember, and I needed to get them fixed today before my deafness affected the wedding I’m singing next weekend. (Congrats Bob and Dano!)

Today was the first time a physician has explained to me what the deal is. “Your ear canals are teeny tiny! Really small,” my awesome lady doctor informed me. I asked how small and she replied, “If your ear canals were a pant size, they’d be a 0.” Have I told you she’s awesome yet?

My overactive brain churned that phrase around in my Irish skull for a while. “If your ear canals were a pant size, they’d be a 0.” My first thought was, “Small ear canals, boobs, and white girl butt. Nailing it, McDonough.” I’m pretty much the same size as a full grown Kodiak Bear, so hearing that anything on me is dainty makes me sparkle a little bit, even if it is my ear canal. (I don’t sparkle at my small boobs. I’ll have money to fix them…someday.)

This ear canal obviously needs to go on a diet.

Then I thought, “Oh! A 0! So my ear canals are the ideal size! They’re perfect! Everybody loves them! They’re going to get asked to prom by a cool senior boy and have flowers sent to them and have doors held open for them and so many fun skinny ear canal things!”

Wrong. They’re tiny and eff up my hearing. But I got so giddy at the thought of having a size 0 something that I ignored all health problems. Well, we’ve all done that in some way.

But why is this? I’m a 6’1” lady. Everything should be proportional to my stature. Weight, BMI, dress size, etc. But in a social setting, no one takes this into consideration. Not even me. I IGNORE.

Have your picture taken with a WNBA star!

When someone says “I’m a size 12…but I am 6 feet tall,” no one ever hears the last part. Even my brain shuts off after “I’m a size 12,” and I’m the one trying to prove the damn point.

No one hears the “…but I am 6 feet tall.” My brain does it, so I assume everybody’s does. We immediately nod nicely, but internally scream, “12! A 12! Jesus, does she ever put down the friggin’ fork? She knows butter isn’t a snack, right? Should we start chipping in for her Lap Band surgery?”

The point is, we’re programmed to think size 4 jeans are normal for every height and every body. Let me be the first to tell you, IT’S FUCKING HARD TO DO WHEN YOUR BODY DOESN’T AUTOMATICALLY DO IT FOR YOU. I’m looking at you, metabolism. I count every calorie that enters my mouth, I run almost everyday, I order ‘grilled’ over ‘crispy’ even though I want that salty crunchy breading so, so bad.

Fried crispy goodness that will make me hate myself.

The same goes for shoe size. “Oh my god, you wear an 11? You’re feet are huge.” Yeah, because I have 6 feet of person up here to lug around. It sure would be hard to do that with bound geisha feet, wouldn’t it? It’s proportion. It’s biology. It’s not my lifestyle choices. It’s how I formed from Frank’s sperm and Sue’s egg.* Deal.

*Not an actual photo of my creation.

*I’ve whined about my weight loss in a previous post, so I’ll shut up about that.*

I’m not yelling at anyone specifically, just the world of accepted standards that piss off girls like me. You know how most tall girls get “Oh, you’re 6’? You should be a model!” Yeah, me neither. All I get is, “Do you play basketball?” or “Could you get that off the top shelf for me?” (Answers: ‘Not well’, and ‘sure.’)

I’m no Naomi Campbell, but I will whip a phone at you if you do me wrong.

Try me, bitches.

I have a dream. A dream that one day tall sizes will actually fit tall girls. Pants won’t be too short and the crotch won’t look weird. Hoodie sleeves will actually reach past our forearms. Knee high boots will one day come up to our knees and not mid-calf.

A dream that tall girls will be described as ‘pretty’ or ‘cute’, and not just ‘freak’ or ‘holyshitthatbitchisbig.’

In the future, us girls with long legs, long torsos, long arms…you get the idea…we will HAVE OUR DAY. Until then, we’ll settle for keeping our tall girl secrets. Ripping the tags out of our jackets so no one sees that we bought a giant size and think that’s our actual size. No, we have to buy that size because it’s long enough to cover our arms and reach our freezing asses, thank you.

We’ll get to the bar and immediately weed out all of the guys who are shorter than  us…leaving about 1.5 on average. And that guy is probably awkward as hell, so we’ll just drink enough to put all 6’ of us in a haze and fall down, making the very earth underneath us tremble under our proportional height/weight combination.

Tall girls unite. Let’s suck at everything together. Unless you can play basketball or are pretty enough to model. Then you’re not in this club.

And all of this stemmed from a fun remark from my ear doctor.

I am a psychopath.