Cyndi Lauper’s “Time After Time” is a beautiful song, so Grey’s being Grey’s, of course they’re going to use it. Fortunately in the season I’m focusing on, you get to hear The Wind and the Wave cover it perfectly.

Enjoy.

I’m starting a series of covers of amazing 80s songs that appeared in Season 10 of Grey’s Anatomy. That particular season gave us such amazing music that it will never be paralleled on television. The covers are great songs, but the arrangement, the bands — it’s all unbelievable.

This is one of my favorite songs — period. Level 42’s “Something About You,” covered by Correatown. Enjoy.

Some of you know that I’m Nancy Drew. I have innate skills that make me a master detective and all around badass. As a graphic I have somewhere says, do not underestimate my ability to find shit out. That’s my Nancy Drew alter ego. Nancy Drew knows it all.

There is another part of being Nancy Drew. Nancy knows it all, but there are things she has no power over. Things she can’t control. We all have those things, don’t we? You do. What are the things you can’t talk about? What is the thing you only told one soul?

That one Ocean’s Eleven moment when Reuben says “Look, we all go way back and uh, I owe you from the thing with the guy in the place and I’ll never forget it.”

I have lots of those. But Reuben won’t forget, doesn’t want to forget. Nancy can’t forget, probably wants to forget. We all have those things we can’t unsee. A car crash. A naked relative. Ew.

Remember when I wrote about the five stages grief? Acceptance feels good. But there are still things. The Secret of the Missing Fucks is superfantastic. It’s better than acceptance. It beats acceptance by miles and miles. Damn. It’s freeing. And it’s very different from the years of depression I had in college when I could not mentally or emotionally or physically care about any damn thing. The Secret of the Missing Fucks is not depression. It’s after depression, after acceptance. It’s “you know, I choose not to care about that and I’m good with it.” The Secret of the Missing Fucks is freedom from something that had a hold on you. And that’s not being a bitch or being mean, it’s being a healthy person. Holding things in is what hurts.

You can only hurt for so long until you break. I’ve been broken several times (who hasn’t) and it nearly killed me. Quite literally. I went through the stages of grief. I was good. A few years ago I saw the meme TSOTMF and I laughed. I kept it as a photo on my phone for years. Now it’s practically a mantra.

But yeah, I still have one Ocean’s Eleven moment when Reuben says “look, we all go way back and uh, I owe you from the thing with the guy in the place and I’ll never forget it.”

That’s not a bad thing.

And I’ll never forget it.

The Lang Leav poem from yesterday’s post mentioned being the girl who takes the long way home and that’s how you have stories to tell. I am that girl. I was always that girl and I have always had stories to tell. And I tell them. If you have been here long, Dear Reader, you’ve read those stories.

I’ve written and I’ve written and I’ve written.

Words and pictures.

Tremendously personal stories of mental illness. Of care. Of diagnosis. Of medication. Of teenagehood. Of college years. Of friends and of foes. Of teenage boyfriends. Of compulsiveness. Of meeting my husband. On moving all over and three children all over. Of loss.

Of loss of loss of loss.

All my stories. All my own. All my words.

I write stories and much like having a child, I send my stories out into the world when I hit the “publish” button on the site dashboard. From there I can see where people from around the world have read. It’s a wonderful feeling. Like releasing butterflies.

But there are stories I will never tell. Stories not meant for the world or even one other solitary person. Stories too personal. Secrets between friends. Confidential. Stories not to be told.

But when someone tells your story, it’s not their story to tell.

And that… is where the story ends.

This way you will have stories to tell.

Multiple people have told me over the years that they thought I was a bitch when they first met me. I’m not. People have said I was intimidating. I blame that on my brain — it never rests. Something is always on my mind and I’m thinking of something while I have “resting bitch face.” I have strong opinions about most everything and I’m headstrong…even when I’m wrong (thank you for my theme song, 10,000 Maniacs).

The husband has been challenging me to a nightly game of Jeopardy on the old ps3 and that’s dangerous. You see, I’m Kerry and I know everything. No, I don’t actually know everything, but I have a pretty wild mind for holding onto useless information. It’s only information that is useful for trivia games. Trust me.

My problem is that I get really into a game. I get angry when I guess the wrong answer and I tend to use witty putdowns to mock whomever I’m playing. It’s not my best characteristic. I also don’t know any math categories or geography. Tonight one of the categories was Convert to Roman Numerals or some shit. Wtf is that about? I don’t do numbers in English. I also do not know geography. Seriously. I don’t know where things are. I didn’t take geography in school and didn’t know where Idaho was until I was 24 when I was an Educational Specialist and I had to look at a map for a student. Don’t tell anyone. I’m not proud of that. Not that I know where most any other state is, especially the square ones. And don’t even start with countries. Except the UK. And Australia.

So, my problem is I get cocky and start saying things like “yeah, I made that category my bitch.” “Yes, Alex, I will make it a muthaeffin’ Daily Double.” “Oh, you ring in on this? What are you a Russian Lit expert now?” “Hahaha! The category is MOVIE adjectives and you guess a tv show?!” It just gets worse.

But I won. $24,600 beyotch!

Johnny Marr is fantastic. If you don’t know who he is, shame on you. He was the guitarist and co-songwriter in The Smiths and is most excellent on his own. He’s been a member of The The, Electronic, and Modest Mouse. Marr has been a guest guitarist on a ton of bands’ albums. He’s a damn British national treasure (to me, I don’t know, I’m American). “Hi Hello” is the first single from the new album Call the Comet, first new music in four years. It’s nice a Smithy. Smithy is good.