Langston Hughes

I'll always think
when I hear
            Langston  Hughes
of the moment a student
rapped
            "The Weary Blues"
for the class and
for me.

The Weary Blues
   Langston Hughes

Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
 I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
 He did a lazy sway . . .
 He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o' those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
 O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
 Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man's soul.
 O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan--
 "Ain't got nobody in all this world,
 Ain't got nobody but ma self.
 I's gwine to quit ma frownin'
 And put ma troubles on the shelf."

Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more--
 "I got the Weary Blues
 And I can't be satisfied.
 Got the Weary Blues
 And can't be satisfied--
 I ain't happy no mo'
 And I wish that I had died."
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.

Grillz

Today was my first solo grilling attempt ever. At 9:30 in the morning. I would say it was mostly successful, although my pork chops were a little dry. Thanks to my friend Katie for witnessing the event over the phone. Everything was mostly successful.

Mmmm. Steak and eggs for breakfast.

Now I have to get my rear in gear for work. Blerg. I have done so well at being on time lately (believe it or not...I've been on time or early for most events in my life lately!)...But not today. Oops. Oh well, it's Wednesday.

Ahoy Mates!

This is where I will be celebrating the 4th of July. What better way to honor our founding fathers, than to relax on the land that Divine Providence led them to acquire and defend? (Pictures of beach to follow.)

If I prepared for most things the way I prepare for the beach, my life would be more beach-like.

A big thanks to the men and women who serve our country. It's pretty rad what you do on a daily basis.

IBurn4U

Last week, my teaching assistant Jasper led a lesson on a study skills lesson on class participation. The lesson was great. He used two short flash fiction stories (stories that have plot but don't give an abundant amount of detail in than 500 words, and leave the reader with many ideas of what the story is about).

One of the stories involved a magic trick, a bottle of wine, and flames. He was trying to help the students to make the connection of the symbolism between passion and fire or burning. To demonstrate, he said, "If I said, 'I burn for you,' what would that mean?" Which of course is a very dangerous thing to say. I was expecting someone to follow up with "It means you need to go to the clinic!" However, the response from one of the girls was much more candid and eased my fear when she yelled out, "IT MEANS YOU'RE AN ARSONIST!"

Yes, obviously, that's what it means. Why didn't I think of that?

Never thought I would ever reach a point in my life where the cure for my bad mood comes from making a payment on my credit card.

Cure is a strong word, I suppose.

This is Really Happening

Today on first day of a new class, I was greeted by the assistant to the provost who told me that the building I am teaching my GED classes is undergoing renovation. My class could barely hear my lesson on effective listening over the tile being broken off the floor in the hall way. It was a little easier to hear when they finally finished pressure washing the windows outside.

The lowest part of the day was being trapped in the classroom with the student who had asked me out on a date while the construction workers were jackhammering literally right outside my door. And as I emailed my boss about the situation, my student told me to get off my facebook page (which I was not on) because it could be deemed a distraction.

Jazz Fest Food

List of Everything I Consumed at Jazz Fest 2011

1 - alligator pie
1 - servings fried green tomato
1 - strawberry lemonade
1 - cup straciatella gelato
2 - servings of crawfish monica
4 - bites of crawfish bread
1 - serving sweet potato chips with powdered sugar on top
3 - bites of hot sausage
2 - crawfish beignets with remoulade
1 - crawfish sack
1 - oyster pattie
3 - tums

Mind you, this wasn't all in one day. But too much sun and too much fried food makes for a long night of indigestion.

Thoughts On Osama Bin Laden's Death

I was on the phone with my mom last night, shooting the proverbial breeze, when she said, "Turn on the news. Osama Bin Laden's dead." She very nearly hung up on me. Over the next few hours, glued to the t.v. the news of Bin Laden's death was explained to the American public, and I was awash with a variety of emotions.

I wasn't able to put a feeling on the emotion at the time, but now I recognize it as a sense of wary relief. I did not feel joy. I did not want to cheer his death. I did want to open the front door and shout "Osama Bin Laden's dead!" because shouting it out loud seemed like the only way to shake my disbelief.

I was moved by the people singing the national anthem in front of the White House. But as the crowd swelled, cheered, waved flags, and danced, I associated their action immediately with those in the Middle East after the news of 9/11 reached them. Is there any joy in death? I cannot believe that there is. Do I feel relief? Yes, an apprehensive relief that I'm almost certain won't last. Do I feel like the U.S. has accomplished a goal that we have been working to achieve for ten years - my entire adult life? Yes, absolutely. This is the biggest victory we have achieved. But joy and celebration is not something that I feel.

Isn't it wrong to celebrate someone's death? I'm not saying that this man was a good person - because he was anything but that. But the cheering and celebrating of death, isn't that one thing that we all condemned so many Muslims for? Celebration is only encouraging hatred and ignorance.

My friend Steph posted this Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. quote:

"I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

It's as if there is finally a glimmer of light at the end of a ten year tunnel. That little tiny glimmer - far, far away - gives me hope. I am proud to be an American, and I think that this is an exciting moment in history. After ten years of chasing after what seemed like nothing more than idea, we finally have something to show for it. It's the first concrete evidence that we have set out to do what we said that we would do. So today I am proud of the service men and women who made the operation possible, and I am proud of my country for enduring for this long. But it's pride I feel - not rejoice, and I hope that other people are able to distinguish the two.

Some food for thought news articles from CNN and NPR.

Light Bulb

A few things I've realized lately:

- I need to always wear bug repellent.
- I should not cut my own bangs.
- I don't need to drive my car as often as I think I do.
- I am not good at asking people for things.
- Summer is here.Which means accepting perpetual sweatiness and developing a leg shaving regimen...two things I strongly dislike.
- Cut-offs are my new obsession
- Hammocks = a peaceful heart
- We overuse contractions when we speak.
- I have missed going to the library. So I paid off the exuberant my $14 fine and went back.
- I should not check out more than 2 books at a time.
- There is a reason that people are asleep at 3 a.m.
- Popsicles are a refreshing treat.
- Keeping my room clean is going to be as hard or as easy as I make it.
- Same with doing laundry.
- Staying at home reading a book isn't doing nothing. It's doing something.
- It is impossible to be able to do everything, to see everything, to read everything, to hear everything. I can be overwhelmed by that, or I can surrender to the fact that I can't. That doesn't mean not struggling with the fact I can't....
- Things that take a long time are really good for me. I didn't realize how impatient I really am.
- Sodoku is not that bad.
- Raspberries > strawberries
- A plane ride to get to the people I love is not impossible.

Adjective-less

the first day back is always the worst.
no, it's the second.
but the $64 airport parking might have made the first day the worst.

i miss too many people right now. what a blessing it is to love so many people, even over a thousand miles.

Lights Out

Tonight the weather was bad and the power went completely out about 45 minutes into class. It was the most terrifying 30 seconds of my life as I tried to figure out what I was going to do while responsible with 20 adults in the middle of a storm.

All I could think about was flashlights. Specifically where mine was at home. It was until a few minutes later after the lights came back on that I remembered my bike headlight was in my purse. It's more or less a flashlight.

I didn't like that one bit. I'm smart and mature and responsible, but evidently do NOT count on me in a crisis if it is pitch black.

Everybody's Workin' for the Weekend

Busy weekends in New Orleans make me the happiest. They remind me why I moved here. I didn't move here for a job; I moved here because New Orleans is a great city NOT because I got a job. Reminders like this weekend remind me that there is more to my life than work! A wonderful gentle reminder.

Saturday afternoon my friends and I went to Hogs for a Cause. It's a big hog roast and all the proceeds go to cancer research. There was everything from Brazilian BBQ, to pork tacos, to ribs to pork belly. Did I tell the peons that I was the Pork Princess of Bureau County? Do you have to ask that question? Of COURSE I did. And imagine my surprise when I met someone who graduated from Princeton High School! We tried to small talk about people in town, but he graduated in 1992, so small talk was pretty limited. It seems only natural that I would meet someone from Princeton at a pork roast.

I went to a booth to try some of the drunken pork belly advertised on a sign, only to be disappointed with news that they were waiting for more to cook. So I shot the breeze with the people working the booth, and let it "slip" that they were privileged to be talking with royalty out mingling with the commoners for the day. When they found out I grew up on a pork farm, one of the guys at the grill pulled me back behind the booth and gave me a great big piece. Apparently people WILL give you stuff if you're important. I should let this secret slip a little bit more often....

After eating ourselves into a stupor, we headed over to the track to watch the ponies run. I have never been to a horse race before. It was only appropriate that the Louisiana Derby, a qualifier for the Kentucky Derby, was the first race I attend. I was able to watch a few of the races, but missed the big stakes races because I had to go work at Brocato's. Well, never mind the races, I saw what I came for: The old women in ridiculous hats.

After a delicious breakfast at my favorite Sunday brunch place, a place up the block called Katie's, we took the street car down to the Quarters for the Tennessee William's Literary Festival. There were all kinds of food vendors and street musicians playing. The big attraction was the Stella shout competition. In front of a balcony (presumably from the famous scene in A Streetcar Named Desire) contestants from all over the country fell on their knees and ripped their shirts in half while shouting up to Stella (or Stanley if you chose) on the balcony. The finalists then performed at La Petit Theatre. 

I can't believe I'm about to admit this to you. But I'm doing it. I sure thought Tennessee Williams was dead. I suuuuuure did. But boy did I get confused when he came on stage in his linen suit reciting lines. I realized that I had NO idea when Tennessee Williams died or IF he had died. The man was convincing with the way he recited lines and told stories. The way the crowd was cheering him was convincing. To the point where I abandon my conviction that he was dead, and thought to myself "I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M REALLY SEEING TENNESSEE WILLIAMS RIGHT NOW. ALL THIS TIME I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD. BOY WAS I WRONG BECAUSE THERE HE IS IN FLESH AND BLOOD!" Upon the conclusion of the shout, I made my friend Josh get out his phone and look up the truth. I wanted to delete the pictures I took of the Tennessee Williams imposter as soon as it was confirmed that the REAL Tennessee Williams has been dead for twenty eight years.

All in all, it was a really swell weekend. 

I just watched this clip from the movie Grease II and realized that this was what I wanted my high school experience to be like. WHERE WAS ALL THE SINGING AND DANCING IN ORDINARY EVENTS?

I just realized that my how disappointed I am with my high school experience because I didn't get to dance on the bowling alley lanes.

I'm serious.



....and this is how I imagine my mom's high school experience. She would have been the tree or March.

I'm serious.

Yesterday, I entered a home that had a real zebra skin rug, lion skin rug, and a sarcophagus.

I'm not making this up, people. And no, I didn't get pictures, even though I really wanted them.

Later, after posting that last post, I learned what a magic 8 ball means on the street. I guess it's coke or something; I don't know drug lingo. But I don't want a drug magic 8 ball.

I want the magic 8 ball that will tell me things like, "All signs point to yes."

I just need to bite the bullet and buy a magic 8 ball.

The Neighborhood is Falling to....

Today I met my 89 year old next door neighbor.

Today I also helped my 89 year old neighbor pull up her pants, seconds after meeting her.

A Study in How I Spend my Time

1:00 pm
Here's the problem with Netflix Instant: There's just too many damn choices. When I don't know what I want to watch, I just peruse the genres, thinking that the right movie will catch my eye, and I will shout "EUREKA! THANK YOU NETFLIX! THIS IS JUST WHAT I WANTED TO WATCH!" But what really happens, even when I find something I am interested in, is I pass it right by thinking I can find something better or more suitable to my mood. I end up effectively wasting 45 minutes and returning to my old stand by: Law and Order SVU.

I'm so annoyed.

My baking skills are too good my own good. I made peanut butter cookies last night. I am a mad master baker. But the problem is they are too good, and this is very dangerous.

I am so annoyed.

It's raining outside. I have to go BACK to the hardware store for the third time this weekend. My laundry needs some serious folding. I have to grade papers.

I'm so annoyed.

Everything is so annoying right now, except the biscuits and gravy I had for breakfast, my bed, and Law and Order. I'm taking a nap.

Update 2:30

After waking up from very short nap, I looked around my (extremely) untidy room. I considered cleaning it.

Then I decided on a bath instead.

The bath started out equally as annoying as everything else. The water was way too hot, and the first twenty minutes felt like noon in the middle of July. But then I watched episodes of 30 Rock, everything was much better. I feel mildly motivated. Mostly just to paint my nails and give myself a facial. Will keep you updated, as I'm sure you're dying to know what happens next.

Update 6:30

I neglected to mention that I started my bath at approx 2:30. I didn't get out until 4.

Since then, I've watched 1.75 episodes of Law and Order, 1 episode of 30 Rock, eaten some red beans and rice, two peanut butter cookies, and one can of Coca-Cola. I have also moisturized my skin, sufficiently praised the cat, and started folding my laundry.

Update 6:26

I'm sure you're desperately wondering how I traveled backwards in time. Well, here's how. The last update was actually written at 6:17. I rounded up.

I forgot to mention that I have spent time today looking for decently priced plane tickets to go to Florida to see my grandparents, on facebook chatting with my friend Becker, and let's not forget the time I have spent writing this blog. I also just helped my roommate move a table back into the kitchen and have considered starting to take the polish off my toes. My laundry looks quite nice, half folded on my bed.

Update 9:02 (being honest about the time now)

My laundry is folded. It was like pulling out my own teeth, but I did it.

Post-laundry finish, listlessness set in. So I took the garbage out, which was a huge. First step outside since I got back from brunch at noon. It was pouring rain. I decided to turn on the boob tube, make some tea and grade papers.

Then I remembered why I don't grade papers. There is nothing more enraging than grading subtraction problems  after you have spent HOURS AND DAYS going over how to borrow only to find that my volume was on mute while teaching that lesson. Which tragically brought me back to stage 1:00 of extreme annoyance.

I managed to kick three students out of class within the first three classes. I ticked one off, and after he refused to talk to me about it, I told him we could talk about it Monday. "Well, I'm not coming back Monday. How bout THAT?" Suhweeeet.

The one who left came back today, and it went rather well, considering.

Last week, in addition to throwing it down with my students, I also managed to completely organized all the paperwork in my desk. I have sorted all the worksheets by subject and then alphabetized them according to topic. Mom, I know you don't believe that I have organization skills, but I am passionate about alphabetization.

Narcotics Anonymous

I have a growing collection of Narcotics Anonymous leaflets, handbooks, key chains and leaflets in my desk. If you didn't know better, and you opened the top right hand drawer of my desk, you might think that I am a recovering narcotics addict.

I have a student who's name isn't Danny, but is about as common. Danny is in his forties and is one of the nicest students that I've ever had. He insists on calling me Miss Molly, even after I've asked him not to, participates enthusiastically in class, works with the other students, helps put the books up after class, and thanks me after class. He doesn't always have a smile on his face, but he has the kindliest looking face, and when he does smile, it makes me smile back. Danny also has a five inch scar up his forearm that sinks about a quarter inch down into his skin. It's an inch wide, and the tissue at the edge of the skid looks like a fortress almost.

The first time Danny told me about his scar, he didn't say much. Just that he was a different person back when he was beat up in an abandon house and left for dead. After his first six weeks of having me for a teacher, Danny asked what he had to do to keep me for a teacher. As his luck would have it, he landed in my class again.

One morning, and I can't remember how it ever happened, but Danny told me that he was a recovering narcotics addict. He was shy and scared, and I can't blame him. Saying those things can change how a person views you. I told him about losing a friend to suicide and alcoholism and the confusion of the big, wide world. I told him that no matter what, he could always talk to me if he needed to, and that even if I didn't understand, I would support him.

I also solicited Danny for some help. One of my goals for this fiscal year is to put together a resource binder for our students. Students come to us for all kinds of help. Sometimes it's about housing issues, abuse at home, medical issues, and a gambit of other things. It's aggravating and embarrassing when a person reaches out for help, and you have no resources or even contacts to give them. Sure, you can look up a phone number on the Internet, but that doesn't mean that the information is good any more. I told Danny about my plan and asked if he could bring me a few fliers with meeting times and places.

Danny was good to his word. He has faithfully brought me fliers about the meetings and locations, about admitting that you are an addict, and the 12 steps. One morning, before I'd had enough coffee and 40 minutes before class started, there was a knock on the door. I answered the door, fully prepared to tell the student to come back in twenty minutes. But there was Danny, and I couldn't say no to his smile. "Ms. Molly," he asked as he took off his jacket, "Would you mind reading this to me today?" He handed me his Narcotics Anonymous book with the page marked. I swallowed my humble pie with my coffee, and when I finished, he said thank you, and in earnest, "Miss Molly, did you get anything out of that?" And I had to admit with him, right there, that I needed to change my attitude for the day. "Miss Molly, you're sure not a morning person, are you?"

Last week Danny gave me his six month sober key chain. Today he brought me my own copy of Narcotics Anonymous. I'm not sure if he thinks I'm secretly an addict or if he is trying to help me with the resource binder or if it's his way of fighting his addiction. It doesn't matter what the reason is. I can't tell him no. Meanwhile, my desk drawer will slowly keep filling....

I'm on the East Bank, I'm on the West Bank

After much experience of getting lost, I have firmly convinced myself that getting lost is the best way to truly get to know a place. It forces you to get up close and personal with where ever you are. I've gotten lost while I was at work plenty of times, but I have never gotten on an express way, going the wrong way with no exit except across a two mile long bridge with a class starting in half an hour. OH WAIT. I have.

My schedule is pretty tight, and I have to go from our campus on the east bank to the campus on the west bank in the space of an hour and a half. That doesn't sound like it should be too bad. And it isn't...when I don't get held up with things at the east bank, when I remember to bring my lunch with me, and when traffic is good. Today, none of those things happened. I was running behind, but it was manageable. Little did I know, that missing my exit would turn my whole day around. Literally.

To get to the west bank, I have to cross the Crescent City Connection, which is a huge and scary bridge complete with rush hour traffic. The traffic's mild compared to Chicago, but imagine beingy suspended a hundred or so feet in the air with cars whizzing and getting cut off by a janky turquoise pick-up with his windows tinted out and his muffler rattling the whole g.d. bridge. You're not sure if his tires are going to fall off before the duct-tape holding the topper on to the truck gives out, but you don't have time to worry about that because the Buick Lacrosse in front of you can't decide if she's going 50 mph or 30, and the sedan behind to you wants you to hustle your buns.  Meanwhile the SUV that's next to you wants in your lane, and you better move the hell over soon. And during all of this, you're trying not to think about how one false move could send you plunging into the depths of the Mississippi. Missing an exit is totally understandable under these conditions.

The next logical thing was to take the next exit. I can count on both of my hands the number of times I've been on the west bank, and with the clock was tick-tocking, it seemed logical to just hop back on the interstate and take the correct exit. I passed one exit on my way to the west bank, so there should be one exit before the toll for the bridge.

WRONG. SO SO WRONG.

It was too late. There was traffic and honking and trucks and cars and tolls and toll tags. I stared in disbelief, dumbfounded by the terrible illogical construction of this horrible, scary bridge as I merged into a mire of filthy traffic. My exit was a figment of my imagination. It only exits when you're heading to the west bank. It doesn't exist when you're going the other way. The only thing I could do was cross the bridge BACK to the east bank, turn around, and cross AGAIN to the west bank. 

THIS SHOULD BE FUNNY, I repeated out loud. But it wasn't. There were a lot of things I needed to do before class started, and no telling how long it was going to get turned around and back where I needed to be. So I did the only logical thing a girl could do: call my mother and burst into tears. And she said the only logical thing a mom could say: "I can't help you."

In the end, all was well. 

But here's a map of the days journeys, just for emphasis.

It's finally happened. Last night, I actually used the words "I ain't got nothin" in seriousness without thinking about it and without cringing. It's happened before, but when only when I was repeating something a student had said to me. This came from my own accord. Seconds after it happened, I looked around to see if any of my students realized what had happened. They were oblivious. I couldn't and can't believe it.

Sorry Momma and Daddy, your baby is officially Southern.

You shouldn't
swim on an empty
stomach, and you shouldn't
think on a sleepy head.

2010 Best and Worst

Top 5  Best and Worst Moments of 2010

Teaching Moments


Worst
5.  When bad things happen
4.  Not being able to find the new classroom on the day of new student student testing
3.  Student lifting his shirt up, burping, and rubbing his belly in class
2.  Explaining to a student with a terrible attitude why she was no longer allowed back into my class (she yelled at my teaching assistant, repeatedly disrupted my class, would not calm down to have a discussion and I thought she was going to punch me in the face) an hour before I left on vacation
1.  Day after the Super Bowl

Best
5.  Being called Teacher Lady and Miss Molly. And: Miss Molly, what are you making for Thanksgiving? You bringin' us a turkey?
4.  Singing Miley Cyrus with my boy Jemell. Correction: Almost any interaction with Jemell
3.  Learning the Dougie in class
2.  GED Graduation and watching students transition from GED students to college students
1.  My night class - They consistently worked their rear ends off and made me laugh.

Travel


Worst
5.  Saying goodbye to my parents after my vacay in August
4.  The drive back from Indiana in February when the weather got all scary and awful
3.  The demon bug in Florida that bit me and infected my leg when it swelled to the size of an eggplant. AN EGGPLANT. Really.
2.  The BP oil spill that made it nearly impossible to find an accessible beach
1.  Cancelling my Alaska trip because of a stupid stress fracture in my stupid foot

Best
5.  The 24 hour day with Nick, Noel, and Jennie that ended at the beautiful beaches of Mississippi
4.  Fourth of July weekend with Laurin and Sue
3.  Atlanta weekend with Caitlin
2.  Lafayette weekend with the Brocato's girls and Josh
1.  Indiana weekend with Trina and Britani

Guests and Our Adventures


Worst
5.  My house key dropped down the sink during Mardi Gras
4.  Minnie the Moocher/Stripper that lived next door
3.  Spilling nacho cheese on a stranger at Bayou Country Fest with Kate and Steph
2.  Getting into my first fender-bender just minutes after picking Melanie up from the airport
1.  The parasite that wouldn't go away

Best  (I'm sure I'll regret ranking my friends and family's visits later....)
6. Keeping it classy with Amy and Stephanie Colorado style.
5.  Taking Katie and Stephanie out in New Orleans, starting with the daiquiri shop....
4.  Elena. We saw sooo much cool stuff in Jean Lafitte State Park. Two water moccasins, nutria, tons of alligators, an alligator eating a nutria....2.  Annie and Ethan. We got someone barred for life. Just sayin
2.  Mom and Dad and Katie and John. It was really exciting to be able to show them where I work, live, and that I actually do know how to get around town! We ate good food, heard good music, had fun, went to the WWII museum and the aquarium, and I even took Mom and Dad to a bar!
1.  Melanie. No contest. She had food on the table almost every night that I got home, and she showered me with gifts. I don't think we ever stopped laughing. It also helps that wherever she went, there seemed to be a trail of gorgeous men that followed....


Things I Couldn't Control


Worst
5.  All those damn bug bites
4.  Having to wait eons to get a full-time position
3.  Stress fracture + the boot
2.  The smallest water heater, broken door knobs and fans, drafts that blew papers off coffee tables, sinks with bugs, not getting our deposit back, and the crappiest landlord of all time
1. Getting robbed

Best
5.  Good neighbors that provided plenty of entertainment
4.  Getting my wallet back in the mail after I left in a cab. Cash stolen, cards cancelled, but at least I didn't have to go back to the DMV!
3.  Finding an awesome apartment
2.
1. These awesome friends of mine

Soundtrack from this year in no particular order
20.  Tik Tok - Ke$ha
19.  Green or Blue - Jaymay
18. Wagon Wheel - Old Crowe Medicine Show
17.  Out Last Night - Kenny Chesney
16.  When a Man Loves a Woman - Jerry Lee Lewis
15.  Cash on the Barrelhead - Dolly Parton
14. Everything I Am - Kanye
13. Shake Fo Ya Hood - Ricky B
12. That's How Country Boys Roll - Billy Currington
11. Hell On The Heart - Eric Church
10. Roll With It - Easton Corbin
9.  House That Built Me - Miranda Lambert
8.  All I Do Is Win - DJ Khaled
7.  Homecoming - Kanye
6.  Get Crunk! - Ying Yang Twins
5.  F*** You - Cee Lo Green
4.  Dog Days Are Over - Florence and the Machine
3.  All Over Me - Josh Turner
3.  Teach Me How to Dougie - Cali Swag
2. As She's Walkin' Away - Zac Brown Band
1.  The Gambler - Kenny Rogers