Ingrid Michaelson on Ellen

I think that it's always a pleasure to see Ingrid Michaelson sing. She is a wonderful and talented performer. I honestly never considered myself a fan of anything but just an appreciator of talent, but this kid is changing my mind as I found myself watching Ellen for the sole purpose of getting to see her sing. My boys were there waiting as well. They got bored by Ellen and wandered away, but kept coming back to see if Ingrid was on yet. When she came on they were again mesmerized.

So why do you think she hits home? Maybe because her songs remind us of just being alive and trying to survive. We all have dreams and setbacks and I think Ingrid Michaelson catches this in her music.

Here she is singing Maybe.



Lyrics:
I don't wanna be the one to say, "Goodbye" but I will, I will, I will
I don't wanna sit on the pavement while you fly but I will, I will, Oh yes I will.

'Cause maybe in the future you're gonna come back; you're gonna come back around.
Maybe in the future you're gonna come back; you're gonna come back.
Oh. The only way to really know is to really let it go.
Maybe you're gonna come back. You're gonna come back. You're gonna come back to me.

I don't wanna be the first to let it go. Oh. But I know, I know, I know.
If you have the last hands that I want to hold, then I know I've got to let them go.

'Cause maybe in the future you're gonna come back; you're gonna come back around.
Maybe in the future you're gonna come back; you're gonna come back.
Oh. The only way to really know is to really let it go.
Maybe you're gonna come back. You're gonna come back. You're gonna come back.

I still feel you on the right side of the bed.
And I still feel you in the blankets pulled over my head
And I'm gonna wash away (I'm gonna wash away)
Oh. I'm gonna wash away everything 'til you come home to me.

Maybe in the future you're gonna come back. You're gonna come back in the future
You're gonna come back. You're gonna come back.
'Cause maybe in the future you're gonna come back. You're gonna come back around.
Maybe in the future you're gonna come back. You're gonna come back.
Oh. The only way to really know is to really let it go

Maybe in the future you're gonna come back (You're gonna come back)
You're gonna come back around.
Maybe in the future you're gonna come back. (You're gonna come back)
You're gonna come back around.
Oh. The only way to really know is to really let it go.
(Maybe in the future you're gonna come back. You're gonna come back around)
Maybe you're gonna come back. (You're gonna come back)
You're gonna come back. You're gonna come back to me

Mmmmm. You're gonna come back to me. You're gonna come back to me

My Husband's Dream

We all dream. A woman, when she's married, hopes that her husband has sweet dreams about her. Maybe romantic (not so likely, our version of romance differs from the male species, usually) or even sexual (which is much more likely, with little details except for the actual act itself.)

I believe that for the most part we want our men to share their dreams with us. This morning I got my wish. He woke and told me he had a dream. Cool. What was it? He went to a Bordello. Uh oh. Sexual dreaming? Well, that's okay. But no. He went their with wooden stakes to kill vampires that used the Bordello as a headquarters. Nice. No sex, just blood.

Funny thing is I believe I know where this particular dream stems from. We are in Wal-Mart and we buy wooden stakes for yard sale signs to help out a friend. He doesn't think practical, he thinks weapon (which for him is practical.)

"We can use these to kill vampires," he says.

I didn't know we had a vampire problem in Neenah, Wisconsin, but hey.

"Aren't they a little long?" I ask.

"No," he replies. "It helps us out so we don't get too close." Practical.

So as we leave Wal-Mart I stop in front of the bench with three teenage girls.

"So, do you think these are strong enough to kill vampires?" I ask him.

We, of course, get strange looks from the girls before they look curiously at each other.

"Sure," he says smiling knowing exactly what I'm doing.

As we leave the Wal-Mart he looks at me and says, "That's only one of the reasons I love you."

I'm sure another is that I wouldn't get upset about him dreaming about a Bordello of Blood.