Morning has broken...
Umm huh. Where's the coffee?
Right here. You know what today is?
The last day of June, I think.
That's right, as per the calendar. But it's also a five year mark for me. This was the day my youngest brother was arrested. Tomorrow will mark five years since i found out he had been arrested and what he was accused of doing. It wasn't until later, at his arraignment, that i found out exactly how it went down, thanks to Grandpa filling in the details. Having been associated with the newspaper in south Georgia for so long, he felt it his duty to give me the inside scoop on news-worthy events. Whether i wanted such details or not.
I thought he had died in 1982...
He did. That's a different story, part of my conversations with ghosts. Back to this one.
(Takes a sip of coffee, still trying to wake up.)
As i was saying, tomorrow marks five years since i found out my brother had been arrested. It was a Sunday and the church i attended was having its Big Coffee Hour. In other words, we were all gathered in the social hall, helping ourselves to the fine foods we had all brought to share. So, there i was, happy as a lark, chatting to all around me in line, putting tastiness on my plate. La diddy dah! Across the buffet table, filling her plate, was the woman who wore hats, a woman i had spoken with several times, including at the women's group for the church. She lived across the street from the family my brother's girlfriend worked for, so we both had her in common.
So there we are in line, across from each other.
And apropos of nothing, she says "You know that girl Ann?"
"Yes, i do."
"She's dead."
"She's dead?" I had stopped in my tracks, no longer seeing the food before me.
"Uh huh. Her boyfriend killed her."
Incredulous, i responded "Her boyfriend killed her?"
"Uh huh." Standing still. Watching me, looking in my eyes.
"Her boyfriend is my brother!" Shocked, choked voice uttered the words.
"Uh huh. He killed her."
"Oh, no!"
Oh, no.
I ran from the room to the church office and called my first brother, in a panic. "Have you heard anything from our youngest brother?"
"Why?"
"I just found out his girlfriend is dead! I'm here at church and i was told he had killed her!"
"That may be true. He called me yesterday to say he had been arrested, but I was out and it went to the voice mail."
"Oh my God! Oh, no! I thought they had broken up! She had told me she had stopped seeing him."
"Well, they must have gotten back together, because she had moved in with him."
"Oh my God!"
Shock, shock, shock.
What did you do?
I left the church and drove down to the house, to see if any of this might possibly be real.
And it was.
Yellow crime tape all around the front yard, the back yard, the house.
And i had to stop the car until the sobs allowed me to breathe again.
And it didn't matter whether it had been an accident or not.
Ann was dead.
Five years ago tomorrow.
Which will even be a Sunday, again.
And i will visit my youngest brother, in his new abode, which he will have for the next four to eight years.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
you twinkle above us, we twinkle below
Good morning, starshine! The earth says hello!
(Yawn!) Well, good morn to you and your raspy voice. Where's the coffee?
Brewing, but shan't be much longer. Woohoo!
Yo! Let's turn down the volume a tad, okay? I can see you're in rare form today. What gives?
The sun is shining! Seems like days since it's been clear. Hmmm, i think that's from a song, too... i'll have to look it up when i get done here. Oops! My breakfast pasta is boiling over!
(Patiently waiting, bemused.)
Okay! That's under control now! I should have been in there watching it, but, no. Can't find my clone to take care of such things for me -
Pardon my interruption, but... Breakfast pasta? Is that what you ate in Italy?
Oh, no! Over there, it was croissants, or baguettes, or last night's rolls, served with spreadable cheese or a variety of fruit jellies. In Rome, we had the option of purchasing eggs cooked to order, but by that time, i had grown accustomed to the regular fare.
So... now you have pasta for breakfast?? What's up with that, girrrl? (Grin!)
Well, remember how lonely i was when i returned from Italy? How i had such a time adjusting to being back in my life and my house and my bed?
(Nodding.)
Well, i had told folks in the group that i was planning to cook an Italian meal for my friends here, to share some of the experiences i'd had there.
(More nodding.)
Well, i still plan to do so, eventually. And toward that end, i had decided that making fresh pasta might be too great a task for me alone, so store-bought pasta would be easier. I don't know why i didn't think of the fresh pasta at the store, but i didn't. Instead, i selected three imported dry pastas, all of the same shape (fusilli, because it looks like a party is going on!). I then spent that first Sunday afternoon back in the States running my experiments with them.
Experiments! Oh, do go on!
No, really! I didn't want any bleed-over of taste, so each pasta was cooked in its own pot, with its own stir-strainer, for the designated length of time on its package. As each completed cooking, i would scoop the pasta out with its specific spoon, placing the fusilli on its own plate, then tossing with extra virgin olive oil (evoo, as the cooking shows call it) and some freshly grated parmigiana fetched from Siena. So, then i had three plates of steaming pasta, all prepared and topped in the same manner. Ta dah!
And your results? You surely aren't going to leave it at that??
Hold your horses and don't call me Shirley! hahaha!
You are soooo funny. Not!
Yeah, yeah! (Grin.) You ready for this? Drum roll, please! Of the three imported dry pastas, the one billed as "Italy's #1 Brand of Pasta" was my least favorite, having a doughy internal texture. As an aside, when i next prepared it, i allowed an extra minute of cooking time and that was a big improvement -
Wait aminute! What about the other two in your trials? How were -
They were good, really they were, and i could not detect any differences in aroma, texture, or flavor. One was billed "ORGANIC" from a company in Firenze (Florence to us) and the other was named after a famous Italian and did not have that label addition. So, for the dry pastas, go for the imported, as they do have more taste than do the other ones on the shelf, but no need to pay big bucks for the organic version.
And... did you not even test the supermarket's fresh pasta???
Oh, i did. Of course, i couldn't check the mouth-feel and compare that to the others in my study. Seriously! The pasta was linguini, not fusilli, so the manner in which it is experienced by the tongue and teeth is considerably different from the others tested.
(Quizzical lift of right eyebrow.)
Really! Anywho, i found the fresh pasta to be very good and, surprisingly, comparable in taste and texture to the pici i had made by hand at the Art & Cooking class in Siena. Oh, i see that look! You think i made up a word, don't you? hahaha! Well, i did NOT! "Pici," pronounced "pea chee" with a first syllable stress, is similar to linguini in appearance, but is a rolled pasta, not a flat one. It was a lot of fun to make it, but we had EVERYONE involved, as it is quite labor-intensive if you're going for the quantity needed for almost thirty diners.
What on Earth was i talking 'bout that i ended up here? Hmmm... oh, yeah, pasta for breakfast. Yeah, that's the ticket! So, after my little home-testing, i had all this pasta that needed to be eaten AND i had all this ovine parmigiana which i had brought home with me, so -
Ovine? Really? That cheese you have is from sheep milk? And how is that working out for your lactose-intolerant self?
Yes, indeed, sheep milk, from the sheep grazing on the Tuscan hills around, and under and within, Siena. Offhand, i don't know how the milk sugar content compares to that of the bovine milk, but that doesn't even figure into the equation. Parmigianna, or parmesan as it's billed in the States, is a hard cheese, so the lactose is negligible, if not completely gone. No, no, no, don't you roll your eyes at me!
You're going into chemistry nerd mode, i can just feel it...
... So what if i am? There is NOTHING wrong with that! Not one little thing! Chemistry is all around and within us and working twenty-four seven IN our favor, matters not what bad press it may receive from unenlightened sources. The media seems to mostly tout the bad molecules, but that's the same way it treats people, so i guess that makes it consistent. Consistently aggravating, but consistent.
(Deep breath!) Okay! Next! I was talking about lactose and hard cheeses, wasn't i? Yes, i was. Okay, so you know how cheeses are made, right? Bacteria meet warm milk and get to work? Well, bacteria prefer to eat sugar whenever possible, as it provides easy access to energy, just as it does for us. So the bacteria go after the lactose, as that is milk sugar, as the Latin name tells us. They convert the lactose into lactic acid as time goes by. If sufficient time is allowed, at least nineteen days as my chef friend tells me, then the lactose has all been altered into its easily-digestible form. The older and harder the cheese, the fewer ill effects on the body!
Spontaneous chem lesson over?
Almost! While i was getting those weblinks, i actually USED the first one (!) and found out a bit of information that is contrary to what some of my friends have told me. Mind, none of them are biochemists, but the prevailing concept is that goat's milk has less lactose than does cow's milk. That answer is incorrect! The correct one is: they have the SAME lactose content. In addition, sheep's milk has the same amount of lactose per hundred grams (roughly, one-third cup) as does good ol' cow's milk. And if you think about it, that makes perfect sense. It does! Calves and lambs and kids all have energy needs which must be met for growth of their infant bodies and the only source of that energy is mammal's milk, so to speak.
My first niece and i were talking about lactose in human milk, so i looked that up, too.. To feed human infants, mother's milk contains almost fifty per cent MORE lactose than does the milk of other land-based mammals. Wow!
Wow! No wonder babies grow so quickly!
I know!
Listen, i'd love to stay and chat some more, but i have many things to get done today whilst the sun is shining, so i'm gonna jet. See you later!
Ciao!
(Yawn!) Well, good morn to you and your raspy voice. Where's the coffee?
Brewing, but shan't be much longer. Woohoo!
Yo! Let's turn down the volume a tad, okay? I can see you're in rare form today. What gives?
The sun is shining! Seems like days since it's been clear. Hmmm, i think that's from a song, too... i'll have to look it up when i get done here. Oops! My breakfast pasta is boiling over!
(Patiently waiting, bemused.)
Okay! That's under control now! I should have been in there watching it, but, no. Can't find my clone to take care of such things for me -
Pardon my interruption, but... Breakfast pasta? Is that what you ate in Italy?
Oh, no! Over there, it was croissants, or baguettes, or last night's rolls, served with spreadable cheese or a variety of fruit jellies. In Rome, we had the option of purchasing eggs cooked to order, but by that time, i had grown accustomed to the regular fare.
So... now you have pasta for breakfast?? What's up with that, girrrl? (Grin!)
Well, remember how lonely i was when i returned from Italy? How i had such a time adjusting to being back in my life and my house and my bed?
(Nodding.)
Well, i had told folks in the group that i was planning to cook an Italian meal for my friends here, to share some of the experiences i'd had there.
(More nodding.)
Well, i still plan to do so, eventually. And toward that end, i had decided that making fresh pasta might be too great a task for me alone, so store-bought pasta would be easier. I don't know why i didn't think of the fresh pasta at the store, but i didn't. Instead, i selected three imported dry pastas, all of the same shape (fusilli, because it looks like a party is going on!). I then spent that first Sunday afternoon back in the States running my experiments with them.
Experiments! Oh, do go on!
No, really! I didn't want any bleed-over of taste, so each pasta was cooked in its own pot, with its own stir-strainer, for the designated length of time on its package. As each completed cooking, i would scoop the pasta out with its specific spoon, placing the fusilli on its own plate, then tossing with extra virgin olive oil (evoo, as the cooking shows call it) and some freshly grated parmigiana fetched from Siena. So, then i had three plates of steaming pasta, all prepared and topped in the same manner. Ta dah!
And your results? You surely aren't going to leave it at that??
Hold your horses and don't call me Shirley! hahaha!
You are soooo funny. Not!
Yeah, yeah! (Grin.) You ready for this? Drum roll, please! Of the three imported dry pastas, the one billed as "Italy's #1 Brand of Pasta" was my least favorite, having a doughy internal texture. As an aside, when i next prepared it, i allowed an extra minute of cooking time and that was a big improvement -
Wait aminute! What about the other two in your trials? How were -
They were good, really they were, and i could not detect any differences in aroma, texture, or flavor. One was billed "ORGANIC" from a company in Firenze (Florence to us) and the other was named after a famous Italian and did not have that label addition. So, for the dry pastas, go for the imported, as they do have more taste than do the other ones on the shelf, but no need to pay big bucks for the organic version.
And... did you not even test the supermarket's fresh pasta???
Oh, i did. Of course, i couldn't check the mouth-feel and compare that to the others in my study. Seriously! The pasta was linguini, not fusilli, so the manner in which it is experienced by the tongue and teeth is considerably different from the others tested.
(Quizzical lift of right eyebrow.)
Really! Anywho, i found the fresh pasta to be very good and, surprisingly, comparable in taste and texture to the pici i had made by hand at the Art & Cooking class in Siena. Oh, i see that look! You think i made up a word, don't you? hahaha! Well, i did NOT! "Pici," pronounced "pea chee" with a first syllable stress, is similar to linguini in appearance, but is a rolled pasta, not a flat one. It was a lot of fun to make it, but we had EVERYONE involved, as it is quite labor-intensive if you're going for the quantity needed for almost thirty diners.
What on Earth was i talking 'bout that i ended up here? Hmmm... oh, yeah, pasta for breakfast. Yeah, that's the ticket! So, after my little home-testing, i had all this pasta that needed to be eaten AND i had all this ovine parmigiana which i had brought home with me, so -
Ovine? Really? That cheese you have is from sheep milk? And how is that working out for your lactose-intolerant self?
Yes, indeed, sheep milk, from the sheep grazing on the Tuscan hills around, and under and within, Siena. Offhand, i don't know how the milk sugar content compares to that of the bovine milk, but that doesn't even figure into the equation. Parmigianna, or parmesan as it's billed in the States, is a hard cheese, so the lactose is negligible, if not completely gone. No, no, no, don't you roll your eyes at me!
You're going into chemistry nerd mode, i can just feel it...
... So what if i am? There is NOTHING wrong with that! Not one little thing! Chemistry is all around and within us and working twenty-four seven IN our favor, matters not what bad press it may receive from unenlightened sources. The media seems to mostly tout the bad molecules, but that's the same way it treats people, so i guess that makes it consistent. Consistently aggravating, but consistent.
(Deep breath!) Okay! Next! I was talking about lactose and hard cheeses, wasn't i? Yes, i was. Okay, so you know how cheeses are made, right? Bacteria meet warm milk and get to work? Well, bacteria prefer to eat sugar whenever possible, as it provides easy access to energy, just as it does for us. So the bacteria go after the lactose, as that is milk sugar, as the Latin name tells us. They convert the lactose into lactic acid as time goes by. If sufficient time is allowed, at least nineteen days as my chef friend tells me, then the lactose has all been altered into its easily-digestible form. The older and harder the cheese, the fewer ill effects on the body!
Spontaneous chem lesson over?
Almost! While i was getting those weblinks, i actually USED the first one (!) and found out a bit of information that is contrary to what some of my friends have told me. Mind, none of them are biochemists, but the prevailing concept is that goat's milk has less lactose than does cow's milk. That answer is incorrect! The correct one is: they have the SAME lactose content. In addition, sheep's milk has the same amount of lactose per hundred grams (roughly, one-third cup) as does good ol' cow's milk. And if you think about it, that makes perfect sense. It does! Calves and lambs and kids all have energy needs which must be met for growth of their infant bodies and the only source of that energy is mammal's milk, so to speak.
My first niece and i were talking about lactose in human milk, so i looked that up, too.. To feed human infants, mother's milk contains almost fifty per cent MORE lactose than does the milk of other land-based mammals. Wow!
Wow! No wonder babies grow so quickly!
I know!
Listen, i'd love to stay and chat some more, but i have many things to get done today whilst the sun is shining, so i'm gonna jet. See you later!
Ciao!
Monday, June 25, 2012
the trick is to keep breathing
I can't listen to Garbage any more.
Wha...? Why would anyone want to listen to garbage??
No, not garbage. Garbage, capital G.
Oh, yeah! But i'm confused. I thought you really liked that group.
I do. I did... maybe i still do, but i cannot listen to them right now. Hmmm.. Yeah, come to think of it, that's most likely the story. I think it is.
Waiting for you to get to the point...?
I just bet you are! Okay, here it is. You know i have this five-year mark of betrayal coming up, right?
Yes, i believe you went skittering along on that tight rope a bit earlier -
Well, Garbage, specifically their cd "Version 2.0", was part of my music therapy during the summer of 2007. Maybe even for the fall sessions, too, i'm not sure. Probably so.
I thought you had a bona fide counselor that summer. Yes?
Yes, i did. But it turns out she and her husband were comparing notes on me and mine at the time, so i dropped her like a hot rock. i think i was going solo for just a bit before Duke rode to my emotional rescue. He was most excellent! No doubt i would have never heard of him had i not been hanging out with the first city crowd, but i was and i did. Timing truly is everything.
Yeah, that old adage about being in the right place at the right time is solid. Timing makes all the difference in the world.
Yeah.
Yeah. So, what were we talking about this time?
Ha ha ha. I think i was talking about music therapy and how something that worked in the past may not be appropriate for the current situation.
Whoa there! I thought we were just looking at the one album!
Exactly so, but one thing does lead to another. In that summer five years in the past, i had raged and vented and lost my mind to the soundtrack of that cd and a couple of others. The complete soundtrack, mind you. When i used to put an album on the turntable, i would play it until the needle ran out of groove, so to speak. I still prefer to listen to albums, or cds, or cassettes, in that same fashion. Start with the first song and keep it going until the last notes have played out. As i'm sure you may have noticed from our conversations over the past few days.
Yes, i think you've made that fairly obvious, dear.
And i know i've listened to THIS particular cd in the interim 'twixt that time and this, i know i have. But this time, justthatfast, i was zipped backward through time and thrown back into that morass of rage and resentment. Justthatfast. And i just had to stay on the ride, let it run its course.
No, no, no! You most certainly did not. You could have popped that puppy right out of your player and put it away.
No, i could not. I needed to see it to the finish, let it take me from Point A to Point B, get that emotional wash-rinse-spin cycle completed. Don't you remember when i was overseas, when i was in Okinawa? How i used to kick out the jams with McVicar? You know, i think that may have been my first use of music therapy!
I never have seen the movie, though.
Oh, it's a soundtrack?
Yes, it is! And the reason i bought the album was this: it featured the music of Roger Daltrey. You know, the fellow from The Who?
Who? The Who? Hahaha! I sound like an owl!
Hoot hoot! Hahaha!
Back on topic, dearie, we have other things to do today.
Right. Right. You're bloody well right! As Supertramp would have put it! Wow, THAT was a great concert! That was the first time i ever saw a band performing with a giant screen to accompany them. That may have been in San Diego -
Please. P L E A S E !
Oh, yeah, sure. Let's see, where was i going with this... ? Oh, got it! Music therapy and needing to see a thing through to the end. Well, here's how it works. Rather, here's how it works for me, and try to keep in mind that i'm an analytical person and i notice trends and patterns.
Not that everything has a pattern to it. In fact, i haven't noticed that many albums with a story to tell, so it's pretty magical when one DOES. "McVicar" certainly does, and not just because it's a soundtrack. Not all soundtracks have a theme, some are just music that the director or writer liked and wanted to share with the audience. With "McVicar", you have a man wrongly jailed and planning his escape back to the reality he had known as a free man. Lots of rage, lots of longing, lots of emotion! Totally excellent!
In fact, it inspired me to make my own mix tape to take me from pissed off at the world to calm and sane again. I called it my "hate tape." True story!
And why were you in need of such a thing? You were only - what? Early twenties?
Damn straight! Or, as my lesbian friends would say, "Damn gently curving!"
Cute!
I know, it is, isn't it? But yeah, in the early twenties, there's a lot of emotion to burn off. Not that i've noticed a big difference in my early fifties, come to think of it, but i AM better at channeling those currents to minimize possible damage. Mostly. Right?
Yeah, whatever you say. Mama taught me to humor crazy people.
So did mine! How very cool!
And back we go to the topic. You still have that "hate tape"?
You bet. It's been years since i listened to it, though. I wonder if it'll still work?
You mean emotionally or mechanically?
Hmmmm...
Right! Get on with your bad self! You've got things to do and places to be and people to see, and none of that is happening while your butt's in the chair here. Out you go!
And leave that tape where it is!
Wha...? Why would anyone want to listen to garbage??
No, not garbage. Garbage, capital G.
Oh, yeah! But i'm confused. I thought you really liked that group.
I do. I did... maybe i still do, but i cannot listen to them right now. Hmmm.. Yeah, come to think of it, that's most likely the story. I think it is.
Waiting for you to get to the point...?
I just bet you are! Okay, here it is. You know i have this five-year mark of betrayal coming up, right?
Yes, i believe you went skittering along on that tight rope a bit earlier -
Well, Garbage, specifically their cd "Version 2.0", was part of my music therapy during the summer of 2007. Maybe even for the fall sessions, too, i'm not sure. Probably so.
I thought you had a bona fide counselor that summer. Yes?
Yes, i did. But it turns out she and her husband were comparing notes on me and mine at the time, so i dropped her like a hot rock. i think i was going solo for just a bit before Duke rode to my emotional rescue. He was most excellent! No doubt i would have never heard of him had i not been hanging out with the first city crowd, but i was and i did. Timing truly is everything.
Yeah, that old adage about being in the right place at the right time is solid. Timing makes all the difference in the world.
Yeah.
Yeah. So, what were we talking about this time?
Ha ha ha. I think i was talking about music therapy and how something that worked in the past may not be appropriate for the current situation.
Whoa there! I thought we were just looking at the one album!
Exactly so, but one thing does lead to another. In that summer five years in the past, i had raged and vented and lost my mind to the soundtrack of that cd and a couple of others. The complete soundtrack, mind you. When i used to put an album on the turntable, i would play it until the needle ran out of groove, so to speak. I still prefer to listen to albums, or cds, or cassettes, in that same fashion. Start with the first song and keep it going until the last notes have played out. As i'm sure you may have noticed from our conversations over the past few days.
Yes, i think you've made that fairly obvious, dear.
And i know i've listened to THIS particular cd in the interim 'twixt that time and this, i know i have. But this time, justthatfast, i was zipped backward through time and thrown back into that morass of rage and resentment. Justthatfast. And i just had to stay on the ride, let it run its course.
No, no, no! You most certainly did not. You could have popped that puppy right out of your player and put it away.
No, i could not. I needed to see it to the finish, let it take me from Point A to Point B, get that emotional wash-rinse-spin cycle completed. Don't you remember when i was overseas, when i was in Okinawa? How i used to kick out the jams with McVicar? You know, i think that may have been my first use of music therapy!
I never have seen the movie, though.
Oh, it's a soundtrack?
Yes, it is! And the reason i bought the album was this: it featured the music of Roger Daltrey. You know, the fellow from The Who?
Who? The Who? Hahaha! I sound like an owl!
Hoot hoot! Hahaha!
Back on topic, dearie, we have other things to do today.
Right. Right. You're bloody well right! As Supertramp would have put it! Wow, THAT was a great concert! That was the first time i ever saw a band performing with a giant screen to accompany them. That may have been in San Diego -
Please. P L E A S E !
Oh, yeah, sure. Let's see, where was i going with this... ? Oh, got it! Music therapy and needing to see a thing through to the end. Well, here's how it works. Rather, here's how it works for me, and try to keep in mind that i'm an analytical person and i notice trends and patterns.
Not that everything has a pattern to it. In fact, i haven't noticed that many albums with a story to tell, so it's pretty magical when one DOES. "McVicar" certainly does, and not just because it's a soundtrack. Not all soundtracks have a theme, some are just music that the director or writer liked and wanted to share with the audience. With "McVicar", you have a man wrongly jailed and planning his escape back to the reality he had known as a free man. Lots of rage, lots of longing, lots of emotion! Totally excellent!
In fact, it inspired me to make my own mix tape to take me from pissed off at the world to calm and sane again. I called it my "hate tape." True story!
And why were you in need of such a thing? You were only - what? Early twenties?
Damn straight! Or, as my lesbian friends would say, "Damn gently curving!"
Cute!
I know, it is, isn't it? But yeah, in the early twenties, there's a lot of emotion to burn off. Not that i've noticed a big difference in my early fifties, come to think of it, but i AM better at channeling those currents to minimize possible damage. Mostly. Right?
Yeah, whatever you say. Mama taught me to humor crazy people.
So did mine! How very cool!
And back we go to the topic. You still have that "hate tape"?
You bet. It's been years since i listened to it, though. I wonder if it'll still work?
You mean emotionally or mechanically?
Hmmmm...
Right! Get on with your bad self! You've got things to do and places to be and people to see, and none of that is happening while your butt's in the chair here. Out you go!
And leave that tape where it is!
Sunday, June 24, 2012
talking to the moon
I would sure love to be able to talk to Mama right now. No, wait. I think i would rather talk to Grandmama right now. She would have the better perspective, i think.
About?
About my relationship to the ex. About my new friendship. About life and my head.
You DO realize that maybe your mom would be the better choice? Having been through a divorce and counseling and all that?
Honestly, that's why i first thought of her. But, as was recently pointed out to me, grandmas have a different perspective. Partly, i'm sure, this is due to the extra time invested on this planet, gathering knowledge and experiences. However, and this may be as important, my Grandmama would also have had the luxury of distance from the stage of life that i am in, having passed through that time four decades earlier. Yeah, come to think of it, that amount of time WOULD provide a nice buffer zone.
Really, g'friend, you should try to get out more. Not from your house, but from your head.
No, this is important. I'm trying to process my thoughts and getting them out of my head and into the air is beneficial for me. Leaving them inside just allows them to fester and foment and other terrible f-words. Of course, talking to someone in person is always best, but that is not presently available,
so i have come to the water's edge to toss my thoughts out to sea,
in hopes they will find a rhythm more appealing to me.
You are one strange bird sometimes, but you can have a nice path to follow on occasion. Lead on.
Okay. Here's my latest point of fluster. This morning, i had a long conversation, by phone, with my SAR best friend -
SAR?? Please, do us all a favor and step AWAY from the acronyms! I know you have a fondness for them, with your "wmla" and "bff" and "lifer" and "ykw" -
Excuse me, but "ykw" was not one of mine. That belonged to my mother.
Whatever.
Indeed.
(Sigh.)
Oh, alright. SAR is search and rescue. It's what he does on a volunteer basis, but he goes when called. It's very important to him. I was even fortunate enough, on one of my visits, to attend the annual awards banquet with him and his dear wife. Pretty cool for all of us, and you know how i enjoy pomp and circumstance events!
Yes, i certainly do. So, you were saying...?
I was having this long talk with him, and, somehow the conversation came around to the ex. Oh, wait, i recall now how it went. He had asked if i had heard anything from the ex and i had responded with "oh, yes, he's the one who picked me up at the school when i returned from Italy." I could have sworn there was almost a gasp on the other end of the line.
I can believe that!
Yeah, i know. I've gotten that same reaction from other family members when i've related this story. These are all people who know and love me and don't want me putting my heart out there in harm's way, and anything to do with the ex is still perceived in that regard. But, as i explained to my SAR bf, the encounter with the ex was not a planned event. He happened to be in town for his elder daughter's high school graduation. His call to me, to catch up with each other's lives and talk, coincided with my arrival at the Atlanta airport from Italy. As this particular day would be the only chance to meet, he agreed to pick me up once the bus had returned my group to town. He'd had a late lunch, so we agreed to a late supper at a nearby, and local, burger joint. You recall how opposed he is to eating at nationwide chain restaurants?
Oh, yes I do. That's why you had only been to them sparingly for so many years, but a bit more often lately.
Okay, so that's the scenario.
Wait a minute, here! I thought you already had arranged a ride home from the school?
Yes, i had, with my first niece, but the bus was going to be arriving later than originally planned, so i thought i would let her off the hook.
Uh huh. If that's what you want to tell yourself -
Listen. That's what i DID tell myself. But, also, i felt the need to talk to the ex about the visit to Rome. He and i had shared that experience almost ten years earlier -
Ding ding ding!!! Alarm bells!!!
Yeah, i hear you. And them. And i know those who know and love me hear them, too, any time i speak of the ex. But i'm much better these days, at least about him. Well, mostly, except when certain little things impinge on my memory lately. I do have July sixth coming up, so we'll see if i flat lose my mind then. Actually, i think i will PLAN to lose my mind and just get that five-year "anniversary" over and done. Yeah, that's a good idea. I need to line up a designated driver for that day. Oh, even better, it's a Friday this year, so that will make it perhaps easier to set that up... i wonder if he is also planning something for that day? Probably not, but who knows?
Train of thought derailed, dear. Back on the tracks, please? That way lies madness and the invisible forest, snakes hissing and writhing and lashing out...
You are correct. I don't know how i managed to stray so far off topic, being as one would think i would have fewer opportunities for such in this setting -
Ahem. (Right eyebrow slightly uplifted.) Shall we? Else you will need to finish this later...
Yes, you're so right, let's move along. So. As i was saying, he and i had been to Rome almost ten years ago, on the Mediterranean cruise of our tenth anniversary. Strange to think we would have had our twentieth in October this year... Damn it.
(cleansing breath out of my lungs, my body, my mind)
Anywho, i had thought it would be nice to talk to him about my trip to Rome, maybe do a little comparison and contrast, so to speak. After all, the guide i had for the tour of the Vatican and Sistine Chapel and St. Peter's Basilica was, surprisingly, the SAME ONE he and i had so many years ago! How cool is THAT? And she (Angela Raffaelli) was very good before and even better now and she had even fondly remembered being associated with Splendour of the Seas. And she was touched and thrilled that i remembered HER. Let me tell you, as a teacher, dealing with as many students as i have over the past nineteen or so years, being remembered fondly is a fabulous gift for the spirit!
And did he remember her?
Not so much, surprisingly to me. He tends to recall different details than i do and that is true in this case. He had sharper memories of the guide we had for the Forum and Colosseum, even recalling her name! Once he spoke the name, i remembered her, too, as she had a very unusual name (Flavia), like i do.
Yes, indeed!
And i have really enjoyed the use of my name this past year! My new friend uses it, as did the folks i traveled with on this latest trip abroad. Really nice!
So, as i was saying, the ex and i talked about Rome, past and present, over burgers with panache, and had good conversation. Then, about an hour and a half after picking me up at the school, he deposited me at home, helping me in with my bag.
We hugged goodbye, he gave me a kiss on the cheek, and he left.
End of visit. And i was glad he left, as i did not want him to stay.
I wanted to sleep.
That's good. Right?
Yes, it was. My body regards his as family now, not as a former lover, and THAT is very good.
Very good, indeed.
I can certainly understand how folks who get divorced or separated will sometimes still find theirselves in bed together, as the body has a tendency to lapse back into familiar actions. One thing leads to another, as The Fixx would put it.
But i have been careful to train my body against such tendencies. And i have trained my mind to regard him as family, meaning my First Law now pertains to him.
And that is good.
But a time-marker is approaching and i will still prepare for it accordingly. I intend this to be the LAST time i mark that day of betrayal. Five years is the time span required to be deemed cancer-free, right?
Not that I'm saying the marriage was a cancer or the ex is a cancer. Like i said, he's family now.
But the emotional turmoil associated with divorce, the extreme stress of spirit invoked by the death of a relationship that was to be forever, the physical reeality of being a part of the sadness of the world - those may surely be likened to a cancer, a malevolent presence that will consume your mind, body, and soul if not eradicated.
Five years of rooting out those brittle shards, thinking they were all gone, then getting a fresh cut by an overlooked, still sharp, edge, jutting up from an unexpected area, from a formerly smooth surface.
Enough.
After all, i prefer to think i am anticipating delight these days, don't you?
And, more and more often this year, I am.
And THAT is wonderful!
Yes, it is! (big smile!)
About?
About my relationship to the ex. About my new friendship. About life and my head.
You DO realize that maybe your mom would be the better choice? Having been through a divorce and counseling and all that?
Honestly, that's why i first thought of her. But, as was recently pointed out to me, grandmas have a different perspective. Partly, i'm sure, this is due to the extra time invested on this planet, gathering knowledge and experiences. However, and this may be as important, my Grandmama would also have had the luxury of distance from the stage of life that i am in, having passed through that time four decades earlier. Yeah, come to think of it, that amount of time WOULD provide a nice buffer zone.
Really, g'friend, you should try to get out more. Not from your house, but from your head.
No, this is important. I'm trying to process my thoughts and getting them out of my head and into the air is beneficial for me. Leaving them inside just allows them to fester and foment and other terrible f-words. Of course, talking to someone in person is always best, but that is not presently available,
so i have come to the water's edge to toss my thoughts out to sea,
in hopes they will find a rhythm more appealing to me.
You are one strange bird sometimes, but you can have a nice path to follow on occasion. Lead on.
Okay. Here's my latest point of fluster. This morning, i had a long conversation, by phone, with my SAR best friend -
SAR?? Please, do us all a favor and step AWAY from the acronyms! I know you have a fondness for them, with your "wmla" and "bff" and "lifer" and "ykw" -
Excuse me, but "ykw" was not one of mine. That belonged to my mother.
Whatever.
Indeed.
(Sigh.)
Oh, alright. SAR is search and rescue. It's what he does on a volunteer basis, but he goes when called. It's very important to him. I was even fortunate enough, on one of my visits, to attend the annual awards banquet with him and his dear wife. Pretty cool for all of us, and you know how i enjoy pomp and circumstance events!
Yes, i certainly do. So, you were saying...?
I was having this long talk with him, and, somehow the conversation came around to the ex. Oh, wait, i recall now how it went. He had asked if i had heard anything from the ex and i had responded with "oh, yes, he's the one who picked me up at the school when i returned from Italy." I could have sworn there was almost a gasp on the other end of the line.
I can believe that!
Yeah, i know. I've gotten that same reaction from other family members when i've related this story. These are all people who know and love me and don't want me putting my heart out there in harm's way, and anything to do with the ex is still perceived in that regard. But, as i explained to my SAR bf, the encounter with the ex was not a planned event. He happened to be in town for his elder daughter's high school graduation. His call to me, to catch up with each other's lives and talk, coincided with my arrival at the Atlanta airport from Italy. As this particular day would be the only chance to meet, he agreed to pick me up once the bus had returned my group to town. He'd had a late lunch, so we agreed to a late supper at a nearby, and local, burger joint. You recall how opposed he is to eating at nationwide chain restaurants?
Oh, yes I do. That's why you had only been to them sparingly for so many years, but a bit more often lately.
Okay, so that's the scenario.
Wait a minute, here! I thought you already had arranged a ride home from the school?
Yes, i had, with my first niece, but the bus was going to be arriving later than originally planned, so i thought i would let her off the hook.
Uh huh. If that's what you want to tell yourself -
Listen. That's what i DID tell myself. But, also, i felt the need to talk to the ex about the visit to Rome. He and i had shared that experience almost ten years earlier -
Ding ding ding!!! Alarm bells!!!
Yeah, i hear you. And them. And i know those who know and love me hear them, too, any time i speak of the ex. But i'm much better these days, at least about him. Well, mostly, except when certain little things impinge on my memory lately. I do have July sixth coming up, so we'll see if i flat lose my mind then. Actually, i think i will PLAN to lose my mind and just get that five-year "anniversary" over and done. Yeah, that's a good idea. I need to line up a designated driver for that day. Oh, even better, it's a Friday this year, so that will make it perhaps easier to set that up... i wonder if he is also planning something for that day? Probably not, but who knows?
Train of thought derailed, dear. Back on the tracks, please? That way lies madness and the invisible forest, snakes hissing and writhing and lashing out...
You are correct. I don't know how i managed to stray so far off topic, being as one would think i would have fewer opportunities for such in this setting -
Ahem. (Right eyebrow slightly uplifted.) Shall we? Else you will need to finish this later...
Yes, you're so right, let's move along. So. As i was saying, he and i had been to Rome almost ten years ago, on the Mediterranean cruise of our tenth anniversary. Strange to think we would have had our twentieth in October this year... Damn it.
(cleansing breath out of my lungs, my body, my mind)
Anywho, i had thought it would be nice to talk to him about my trip to Rome, maybe do a little comparison and contrast, so to speak. After all, the guide i had for the tour of the Vatican and Sistine Chapel and St. Peter's Basilica was, surprisingly, the SAME ONE he and i had so many years ago! How cool is THAT? And she (Angela Raffaelli) was very good before and even better now and she had even fondly remembered being associated with Splendour of the Seas. And she was touched and thrilled that i remembered HER. Let me tell you, as a teacher, dealing with as many students as i have over the past nineteen or so years, being remembered fondly is a fabulous gift for the spirit!
And did he remember her?
Not so much, surprisingly to me. He tends to recall different details than i do and that is true in this case. He had sharper memories of the guide we had for the Forum and Colosseum, even recalling her name! Once he spoke the name, i remembered her, too, as she had a very unusual name (Flavia), like i do.
Yes, indeed!
And i have really enjoyed the use of my name this past year! My new friend uses it, as did the folks i traveled with on this latest trip abroad. Really nice!
So, as i was saying, the ex and i talked about Rome, past and present, over burgers with panache, and had good conversation. Then, about an hour and a half after picking me up at the school, he deposited me at home, helping me in with my bag.
We hugged goodbye, he gave me a kiss on the cheek, and he left.
End of visit. And i was glad he left, as i did not want him to stay.
I wanted to sleep.
That's good. Right?
Yes, it was. My body regards his as family now, not as a former lover, and THAT is very good.
Very good, indeed.
I can certainly understand how folks who get divorced or separated will sometimes still find theirselves in bed together, as the body has a tendency to lapse back into familiar actions. One thing leads to another, as The Fixx would put it.
But i have been careful to train my body against such tendencies. And i have trained my mind to regard him as family, meaning my First Law now pertains to him.
And that is good.
But a time-marker is approaching and i will still prepare for it accordingly. I intend this to be the LAST time i mark that day of betrayal. Five years is the time span required to be deemed cancer-free, right?
Not that I'm saying the marriage was a cancer or the ex is a cancer. Like i said, he's family now.
But the emotional turmoil associated with divorce, the extreme stress of spirit invoked by the death of a relationship that was to be forever, the physical reeality of being a part of the sadness of the world - those may surely be likened to a cancer, a malevolent presence that will consume your mind, body, and soul if not eradicated.
Five years of rooting out those brittle shards, thinking they were all gone, then getting a fresh cut by an overlooked, still sharp, edge, jutting up from an unexpected area, from a formerly smooth surface.
Enough.
After all, i prefer to think i am anticipating delight these days, don't you?
And, more and more often this year, I am.
And THAT is wonderful!
Yes, it is! (big smile!)
Saturday, June 23, 2012
when i'm 64
That was one of Mama's songs that she liked to sing. When i am sixty-four, i will be one year older than she was when she died.
Where are you going with this?
I'm just sayin', that's all.
Dear, i've been around enough that i know that when you use that phrase, you usually have something to say. So, out with it! Stop your dillydallying and speak your piece about whatever it is that you have on your mind.
Well, okay, but i want you to acknowledge that YOU asked for it.
Fine. I asked for it.
Yesterday, i went to a children's movie with my bff and lost my mind.
Jeez! Is that it? Aw, come on, you cry at animated films almost all the time. I'm not sure, further experimental data is needed to verify, but i believe you cry more often at animated films than you do at live action movies. Truly!
(Exasperated, elongated sigh.) I really can't recall, Perhaps, but i doubt it, as i have over-reactive tear ducts.
Hahaha!! Oh, that's priceless! No, what you have is an over-active imagination which allows you to integrate, perhaps, too deeply into the entertainment. Remember, they're all just poor little fictional characters -
You now, the purpose of attending an entertainment event is to allow one a respite from one's own existence and a brief interlude in someone else's world. It matters not whether the event is reading a book or listening to a concert or viewing a film.
(Stifling another chortle.) Fine, fine. (grin.) What movie was it this time?
(Sidelong glance, assessing the other.) Well, it was the new one, just opened yesterday, in fact, and my bff had pleaded by text before her visit that i agree to go see it with her. So i did. And we BOTH got a little teary at the end, though i suppose for different reasons. I don't really know. How odd.
Why odd?
That we didn't discuss WHY we teared up at the end. Don't you think that's odd?
(Shrug of shoulders.)
And off i go on anoher tangent. Yes, i know. Maybe i'm trying to avoid the topic i broached at the onset of this rant. Or is it a rave?
Seriously?
Fine. Here's my point. (Deep breath.) Okay, on Thursday, i had my portrait painted. No, not for posterity, but it will exist for about a month or so, i think. You recall that kickstarter project about the wall mural downtown?
(Nod of head.)
Well, some of my fliss funding went into that. Every month, a new artist will get to place their handiwork up for all to enjoy, then the next artist comes up to bat. So to speak. Perhaps i should have said "with brush in one hand and palette in the other." And someone else films the process for each artist, then the filmed work is placed online for all the backers to enjoy, so we can appreciate the end result in case we live too far away to visit the actual wall.
I thought we were talking about a movie???
I'm getting there! I have to set it up first, so you can better understand how my head was working. Lord knows, i wish i'd had someone to set it up for me!
You are definitely different, dear.
Don't i know it. KidSyc even talks about that in a song, too! "You say you know i'm different, i say i know i'm different, that's why i'm so terrific, that's why you're noticing me." You know, i think i would seriously enjoy sitting in on on of his class sessions.
(Incredulously) So, you think he wrote the song about you?
Maybe, maybe not. We have met a couple of times! (laughing) But i don't think he wrote it for me. I know he used the song when he was trying to help a local charity get some much-needed funding,
So... you were talking about some wall downtown... ?
Right. So, the first artist had painted this edge of the marsh scene, very nice, with lots of blue sky above and sand along the bottom. As if, perhaps, you were standing in the shallow water and gazing at the near distance. Quite nice.
The second artist chose to allow that work to stand undisturbed, mostly, painting stenciled flowers randomly between the marsh edge and sand foreground. Then, the word was sent out: any kickstarter backers who would like their likeness embedded in a flower, come on down!
So i did on Wednesday evening, having a bit of time on my hands. But the artisit was busy with locals who had come by, especially some children. After introducing myself, i pledged to return the next day.
And i did, but again there was a line of folks waiting to have their portrait become part of the new artwork.
So i waited. I talked to the folks there, discussing whether the stone in my ring is a citrine or citron. (It's a citrine, a lovely lemon-colored quartz.) We discussed the music, as the songs were familiar, but not by the particular artists performing them, underpinning the tunes with new meanings. (Such as, "Respect" being sung by a man, rather than Aretha.)
I watched three little blondes as their images became part of the visual dialogue, three little blondes who, at first glance, seemed so similar. But the artist was able to capture the nuances of their features, bringing to the fore the individuality of each girl. Over the course of an hour, i watched as he distilled their "sameness" into unique beings. Magic for sure!
Then it was my turn. I sat in the chair and had my real image captured, then settled in to allow him to see ME. And he did, in about ten minutes. And at first, i really enjoyed it. Dark brush strokes for the hair, mixing of tones for the face, put the tongue in or keep sticking it out? I decided to keep it in, so he finished up the lips, even adding a bit of what i thought of as gloss. Fun! And the bright green for the arms of the cheap sunglasses - definitely! And then he placed the splashes of gray into my hair, and, even though i knew in my heart that he was right and he had been successful in his task, that image was incongruent with the mental image of myself which i carry around in my mind. Was i truly that gray??? Surely not... right?
Then i thanked him and went off to prepare for my dinner party that evening.
You didn't realize you had gray hair? That's what you want me to believe?
No, i am quite aware that i have gray hair. I just hadn't realized how MUCH. And it was startling to see it reflected back to me through another's eyes. That's all.
And still we haven't gotten to the movie...
Okay!! Jeez, i thought you didn't believe in nagging!
Only for you, dear, only for you.
Fine. So, now you have the background. My feet are being swept out from under me by a young wave and my hair tells me i'm older. No, NOT old, just oldER. Okay?
I said nothing...
Nor did you need to. So, i'm watching this animated film about this strong-willed redhead and realize: the previews didn't spoil it. We had NO IDEA where this story was leading us. Pleasant surprise!
And i start noticing the gray in the mother's hair. Not salt and pepper, not scattershot like mine. No.
Her hair was adorned with the silvery gray, like my mother's had been.
And suddenly i was missing Mama. And i was feeling older.
And it was just a bit too much for me.
Well, dear, you do have the option of washing that gray right out of your hair, you know. You did so for years. As did Mama.
Yes, i know. And it could well be that i am now the age at which Mama stopped coloring her hair. If not, i must be close. Maybe. I had stopped dyeing my hair about March or April of 2010. I was dating an older fellow and i was curious about the quantity of gray i now possessed, My hair had lost color so slowly over the passing months that i somehow overlooked the evidence that the ratio of gray to dark was higher than i had supposed it was.
Now, i still may not notice the gray, but it shows up in pictures, so i cannot deny its existence.
And that freaked me out.
So, get some color on it! That's an easy enough fix!
And i had considered that. I am still considering that course of action. But earlier on Friday, i had bought a bottle of ash blonde, thinking that i would give it a whirl, maybe it would just color the gray but not affect my natural dark tone. And when i pulled it out to show her, after the movie, she jumped all over me for choosing such a light color, telling me that she wouldn't even go that pale for HER hair. And next thing you know, i'm in tears and telling her i don't want to look old and i don't know what to do and i miss my mom and i'm boy-crazy.
And she takes each issue and we deal with it. Right then and there.
And i felt much better.
And i had put up a question in the status line of my social network: To dye or not?
And i was amazed how many responded!
And even though the answers were mixed, it was good to know that folks had taken the time to think about the question and to think about me.
And i've placed that topic on hold for now. It's been two years, it'll keep a little longer.
Good. I think that's a good idea, give it some time to breathe and develop into a final plan.
You know, sometimes, i just need someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.
I know, dear, i do. And when you need that, you get on the phone and let folks know so they can help, you hear? No one can read anyone else's mind, so if you don't tell them what you want, they have no way of knowing.
Right?
Hey!
Right???
Yes'm. Message received.
I am doing better at that, and i'll surely keep working on it.
And now i'm going to get outside for a bit, maybe go and visit that wall before the improv workshop.
And i'm taking a dress for tonight's dinner with the physicist.
Where are you going with this?
I'm just sayin', that's all.
Dear, i've been around enough that i know that when you use that phrase, you usually have something to say. So, out with it! Stop your dillydallying and speak your piece about whatever it is that you have on your mind.
Well, okay, but i want you to acknowledge that YOU asked for it.
Fine. I asked for it.
Yesterday, i went to a children's movie with my bff and lost my mind.
Jeez! Is that it? Aw, come on, you cry at animated films almost all the time. I'm not sure, further experimental data is needed to verify, but i believe you cry more often at animated films than you do at live action movies. Truly!
(Exasperated, elongated sigh.) I really can't recall, Perhaps, but i doubt it, as i have over-reactive tear ducts.
Hahaha!! Oh, that's priceless! No, what you have is an over-active imagination which allows you to integrate, perhaps, too deeply into the entertainment. Remember, they're all just poor little fictional characters -
You now, the purpose of attending an entertainment event is to allow one a respite from one's own existence and a brief interlude in someone else's world. It matters not whether the event is reading a book or listening to a concert or viewing a film.
(Stifling another chortle.) Fine, fine. (grin.) What movie was it this time?
(Sidelong glance, assessing the other.) Well, it was the new one, just opened yesterday, in fact, and my bff had pleaded by text before her visit that i agree to go see it with her. So i did. And we BOTH got a little teary at the end, though i suppose for different reasons. I don't really know. How odd.
Why odd?
That we didn't discuss WHY we teared up at the end. Don't you think that's odd?
(Shrug of shoulders.)
And off i go on anoher tangent. Yes, i know. Maybe i'm trying to avoid the topic i broached at the onset of this rant. Or is it a rave?
Seriously?
Fine. Here's my point. (Deep breath.) Okay, on Thursday, i had my portrait painted. No, not for posterity, but it will exist for about a month or so, i think. You recall that kickstarter project about the wall mural downtown?
(Nod of head.)
Well, some of my fliss funding went into that. Every month, a new artist will get to place their handiwork up for all to enjoy, then the next artist comes up to bat. So to speak. Perhaps i should have said "with brush in one hand and palette in the other." And someone else films the process for each artist, then the filmed work is placed online for all the backers to enjoy, so we can appreciate the end result in case we live too far away to visit the actual wall.
I thought we were talking about a movie???
I'm getting there! I have to set it up first, so you can better understand how my head was working. Lord knows, i wish i'd had someone to set it up for me!
You are definitely different, dear.
Don't i know it. KidSyc even talks about that in a song, too! "You say you know i'm different, i say i know i'm different, that's why i'm so terrific, that's why you're noticing me." You know, i think i would seriously enjoy sitting in on on of his class sessions.
(Incredulously) So, you think he wrote the song about you?
Maybe, maybe not. We have met a couple of times! (laughing) But i don't think he wrote it for me. I know he used the song when he was trying to help a local charity get some much-needed funding,
So... you were talking about some wall downtown... ?
Right. So, the first artist had painted this edge of the marsh scene, very nice, with lots of blue sky above and sand along the bottom. As if, perhaps, you were standing in the shallow water and gazing at the near distance. Quite nice.
The second artist chose to allow that work to stand undisturbed, mostly, painting stenciled flowers randomly between the marsh edge and sand foreground. Then, the word was sent out: any kickstarter backers who would like their likeness embedded in a flower, come on down!
So i did on Wednesday evening, having a bit of time on my hands. But the artisit was busy with locals who had come by, especially some children. After introducing myself, i pledged to return the next day.
And i did, but again there was a line of folks waiting to have their portrait become part of the new artwork.
So i waited. I talked to the folks there, discussing whether the stone in my ring is a citrine or citron. (It's a citrine, a lovely lemon-colored quartz.) We discussed the music, as the songs were familiar, but not by the particular artists performing them, underpinning the tunes with new meanings. (Such as, "Respect" being sung by a man, rather than Aretha.)
I watched three little blondes as their images became part of the visual dialogue, three little blondes who, at first glance, seemed so similar. But the artist was able to capture the nuances of their features, bringing to the fore the individuality of each girl. Over the course of an hour, i watched as he distilled their "sameness" into unique beings. Magic for sure!
Then it was my turn. I sat in the chair and had my real image captured, then settled in to allow him to see ME. And he did, in about ten minutes. And at first, i really enjoyed it. Dark brush strokes for the hair, mixing of tones for the face, put the tongue in or keep sticking it out? I decided to keep it in, so he finished up the lips, even adding a bit of what i thought of as gloss. Fun! And the bright green for the arms of the cheap sunglasses - definitely! And then he placed the splashes of gray into my hair, and, even though i knew in my heart that he was right and he had been successful in his task, that image was incongruent with the mental image of myself which i carry around in my mind. Was i truly that gray??? Surely not... right?
Then i thanked him and went off to prepare for my dinner party that evening.
You didn't realize you had gray hair? That's what you want me to believe?
No, i am quite aware that i have gray hair. I just hadn't realized how MUCH. And it was startling to see it reflected back to me through another's eyes. That's all.
And still we haven't gotten to the movie...
Okay!! Jeez, i thought you didn't believe in nagging!
Only for you, dear, only for you.
Fine. So, now you have the background. My feet are being swept out from under me by a young wave and my hair tells me i'm older. No, NOT old, just oldER. Okay?
I said nothing...
Nor did you need to. So, i'm watching this animated film about this strong-willed redhead and realize: the previews didn't spoil it. We had NO IDEA where this story was leading us. Pleasant surprise!
And i start noticing the gray in the mother's hair. Not salt and pepper, not scattershot like mine. No.
Her hair was adorned with the silvery gray, like my mother's had been.
And suddenly i was missing Mama. And i was feeling older.
And it was just a bit too much for me.
Well, dear, you do have the option of washing that gray right out of your hair, you know. You did so for years. As did Mama.
Yes, i know. And it could well be that i am now the age at which Mama stopped coloring her hair. If not, i must be close. Maybe. I had stopped dyeing my hair about March or April of 2010. I was dating an older fellow and i was curious about the quantity of gray i now possessed, My hair had lost color so slowly over the passing months that i somehow overlooked the evidence that the ratio of gray to dark was higher than i had supposed it was.
Now, i still may not notice the gray, but it shows up in pictures, so i cannot deny its existence.
And that freaked me out.
So, get some color on it! That's an easy enough fix!
And i had considered that. I am still considering that course of action. But earlier on Friday, i had bought a bottle of ash blonde, thinking that i would give it a whirl, maybe it would just color the gray but not affect my natural dark tone. And when i pulled it out to show her, after the movie, she jumped all over me for choosing such a light color, telling me that she wouldn't even go that pale for HER hair. And next thing you know, i'm in tears and telling her i don't want to look old and i don't know what to do and i miss my mom and i'm boy-crazy.
And she takes each issue and we deal with it. Right then and there.
And i felt much better.
And i had put up a question in the status line of my social network: To dye or not?
And i was amazed how many responded!
And even though the answers were mixed, it was good to know that folks had taken the time to think about the question and to think about me.
And i've placed that topic on hold for now. It's been two years, it'll keep a little longer.
Good. I think that's a good idea, give it some time to breathe and develop into a final plan.
You know, sometimes, i just need someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay.
I know, dear, i do. And when you need that, you get on the phone and let folks know so they can help, you hear? No one can read anyone else's mind, so if you don't tell them what you want, they have no way of knowing.
Right?
Hey!
Right???
Yes'm. Message received.
I am doing better at that, and i'll surely keep working on it.
And now i'm going to get outside for a bit, maybe go and visit that wall before the improv workshop.
And i'm taking a dress for tonight's dinner with the physicist.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
cat tales
So, there i was, listening to folks tell tales of their cats...
Really??? On purpose???
Well, yes, on purpose. Well, kind of on purpose.
No kidding. How does one "kind of" DO on purpose?
Well, i had thought my friend would be there, but there was a mix-up of the times and he wasn't able to attend after all. "Major fail," as he called it.
Okaaay. So that rather begs the question: why were YOU there if he wasn't? I mean, seriously, it sounds like you hadn't been that invested in being present at this meeting of feline lovers...
You're right, you're absolutely right, i had not intended to attend. There was a different group i was planning to join yester evening, but then my friend expressed an interest in going to THIS event, an event i had suggested to him, and i ... well, if he was going to be there, then i wanted to be there, too. Mostly for his company, of course, as i am just that kind of crazy, but i could, and would, have also introduced him to the other folks there in the philosophy group -
Philosophy group???
Yes, you know very well the group of which i speak, so no need to act surprised.
No, it's just you haven't been attending their meetings very regularly of late, that's all. So, the discussion was to be the love of cats, or something of that slant?
Well, that was the topic which had been selected by the majority at the end of the previous week's discussion, so, yes. Every once in a while, the group allows for a bit of levity. Heck, one time, i had suggested that we each bring some of our favorite chocolate to endorse and share, and THAT topic was the winner for the next week! And a mighty fine topic it was, too, and much fun!
But you digress...?
Indeed, I do. Where was i? Hmmm??? Oh, yes, i had forwarded the email to him so he could choose whether the topic warranted his attendance at the meeting, and it had, so i had decided to also attend, then perhaps to leave early for my other event with the improv group. But, my friend had gotten the time wrong and arrived to the site much earlier. By the time i returned from a visit across the river, i found he had already left... and i had told him i would share some of the stories with him, Meaning i had to stay, at least for a while. And stay, i would. So, there.
(Quiet pause.)
So, i entertained myself whilst waiting for the others to arrive, browsing the entertainment paper, admiring the art, that sort of thing.
(Still quiet, just listening and watching.)
I had only intended to stay for thirty minutes or so, then leave for the other event, but i decided that would be rude, so i didn't. And i DID enjoy the tales of fey felines, though some were stories i had heard before. One of the guys had actually brought his photo album of his cats, all six of them! It was quite a nicely done album, more a book than an album,. He had originally had two cats, one of each gender, and he and his wife had meant to get them spayed, but hadn't done so and hadn't done so, and then they had kittens! Four kittens, in the corner nook behind the large television! The papa cat was so proud of the little ones that he would jump back there, grb up a kitten by its scruff, and bring it out to be admired, then return it and fetch another, bringing out each kitten for the owner. The teller of the tale had such a sweet grin on his face as he related the story to us! You could tell it was a very special memory to him.
How nice! So, that's why you couldn't leave - these were special stories from the heart, dear to these fine folk.
Yeah, that's pretty much the reason. I've been part of this group for the past five years and several of them are rather dear to me, being former professors of mine, so... i stayed. And i did enjoy the stories!
Cool! Do you recall any of the other ones you heard?
Even better. I have them on my phone!
You recorded them? As the folks were talking?
No, no, no. After returning home yesterday night, i texted them to my friend so he could enjoy them.
So, you ready for this?
Sure. Hit me with 'em! (smile)
Okay, here's the first one i sent.
So, there she was, in her pajamas, butt walking along a fence to rescue a kitten that kept scooting our of reach, Then a guy comes out and starts watering his yard, not even noticing the girl in pajamas seven feet up on the fence,
She manages to catch the tiny kitten by his scruff and get him back to the house, where she is dogsitting a friend's cat-eating pet.
She throws the kitten into the silverware drawer for safekeeping while she feeds the dog, then retrieves the cat and takes him home.
She DID manage to find it a home the very next day, too.
True story!
HAHAHA! I can just see her now, perched up on the fence, trying to blend in when the guy comes out with his hose! Nice!
I have two more. You interested?
Sure!
Okay, here we go.
He was taking a found cat to a vet and had placed the cat in a cardboard box, after poking holes in the box. He set the box on the passenger seat and drove off.
Next thing you know, the cat finds he can stick his paws out the holes!
Shortly after, he manages to shred his way out of the box and careens around in the car before coming to a rest in the man's lap.
Oh, how nice, the man thinks - then feels a hot rush of liquid!
He got the cat to the vet okay after that,.
He also got a new car.
True story! Oh, and the vet found a home for the cat.
(Smile!) That was a cute story, too!
Cool! I'm glad you like them! Here's the final one from my phone.
One night, she was walking back to her car and she saw a kitten run into some azalea bushes,Time for a cat rescue!
But the cat didn't cooperate, delving deeper into the shrubbery!
Persistently, she got down onto the wet ground and went after the kitten, getting leaves and dead blossoms all over herself and into her hair. And no closer to the cat.
Suddenly, out darts the kitten!
She grabs a handful of neck fur and holds on while she backs out of the azaleas, gets to her car and empties a cloth bag from her trunk. She successfully gets the kitty into the bag and zips it up! Off she goes, arriving with dirt, leaves, and wilted blooms all over her - and a new kitten safely in hand!
True story!
And she kept that one.
So ends my tales. You get three and that's it.
And i finished up with a smiley face.
Well, okay! Pretty cool! You seem to be doing pretty well at tapping out messages on the phone these days, eh?
(Grin!) I am certainly getting lots of practice! By the way, he said it was sad that he had missed so many good cat stories.
Very nice. Very nice. it's always good to feel one's efforts are appreciated. And i do believe it's getting to be a bit late, is it not?
True that! Good night!
Really??? On purpose???
Well, yes, on purpose. Well, kind of on purpose.
No kidding. How does one "kind of" DO on purpose?
Well, i had thought my friend would be there, but there was a mix-up of the times and he wasn't able to attend after all. "Major fail," as he called it.
Okaaay. So that rather begs the question: why were YOU there if he wasn't? I mean, seriously, it sounds like you hadn't been that invested in being present at this meeting of feline lovers...
You're right, you're absolutely right, i had not intended to attend. There was a different group i was planning to join yester evening, but then my friend expressed an interest in going to THIS event, an event i had suggested to him, and i ... well, if he was going to be there, then i wanted to be there, too. Mostly for his company, of course, as i am just that kind of crazy, but i could, and would, have also introduced him to the other folks there in the philosophy group -
Philosophy group???
Yes, you know very well the group of which i speak, so no need to act surprised.
No, it's just you haven't been attending their meetings very regularly of late, that's all. So, the discussion was to be the love of cats, or something of that slant?
Well, that was the topic which had been selected by the majority at the end of the previous week's discussion, so, yes. Every once in a while, the group allows for a bit of levity. Heck, one time, i had suggested that we each bring some of our favorite chocolate to endorse and share, and THAT topic was the winner for the next week! And a mighty fine topic it was, too, and much fun!
But you digress...?
Indeed, I do. Where was i? Hmmm??? Oh, yes, i had forwarded the email to him so he could choose whether the topic warranted his attendance at the meeting, and it had, so i had decided to also attend, then perhaps to leave early for my other event with the improv group. But, my friend had gotten the time wrong and arrived to the site much earlier. By the time i returned from a visit across the river, i found he had already left... and i had told him i would share some of the stories with him, Meaning i had to stay, at least for a while. And stay, i would. So, there.
(Quiet pause.)
So, i entertained myself whilst waiting for the others to arrive, browsing the entertainment paper, admiring the art, that sort of thing.
(Still quiet, just listening and watching.)
I had only intended to stay for thirty minutes or so, then leave for the other event, but i decided that would be rude, so i didn't. And i DID enjoy the tales of fey felines, though some were stories i had heard before. One of the guys had actually brought his photo album of his cats, all six of them! It was quite a nicely done album, more a book than an album,. He had originally had two cats, one of each gender, and he and his wife had meant to get them spayed, but hadn't done so and hadn't done so, and then they had kittens! Four kittens, in the corner nook behind the large television! The papa cat was so proud of the little ones that he would jump back there, grb up a kitten by its scruff, and bring it out to be admired, then return it and fetch another, bringing out each kitten for the owner. The teller of the tale had such a sweet grin on his face as he related the story to us! You could tell it was a very special memory to him.
How nice! So, that's why you couldn't leave - these were special stories from the heart, dear to these fine folk.
Yeah, that's pretty much the reason. I've been part of this group for the past five years and several of them are rather dear to me, being former professors of mine, so... i stayed. And i did enjoy the stories!
Cool! Do you recall any of the other ones you heard?
Even better. I have them on my phone!
You recorded them? As the folks were talking?
No, no, no. After returning home yesterday night, i texted them to my friend so he could enjoy them.
So, you ready for this?
Sure. Hit me with 'em! (smile)
Okay, here's the first one i sent.
So, there she was, in her pajamas, butt walking along a fence to rescue a kitten that kept scooting our of reach, Then a guy comes out and starts watering his yard, not even noticing the girl in pajamas seven feet up on the fence,
She manages to catch the tiny kitten by his scruff and get him back to the house, where she is dogsitting a friend's cat-eating pet.
She throws the kitten into the silverware drawer for safekeeping while she feeds the dog, then retrieves the cat and takes him home.
She DID manage to find it a home the very next day, too.
True story!
HAHAHA! I can just see her now, perched up on the fence, trying to blend in when the guy comes out with his hose! Nice!
I have two more. You interested?
Sure!
Okay, here we go.
He was taking a found cat to a vet and had placed the cat in a cardboard box, after poking holes in the box. He set the box on the passenger seat and drove off.
Next thing you know, the cat finds he can stick his paws out the holes!
Shortly after, he manages to shred his way out of the box and careens around in the car before coming to a rest in the man's lap.
Oh, how nice, the man thinks - then feels a hot rush of liquid!
He got the cat to the vet okay after that,.
He also got a new car.
True story! Oh, and the vet found a home for the cat.
(Smile!) That was a cute story, too!
Cool! I'm glad you like them! Here's the final one from my phone.
One night, she was walking back to her car and she saw a kitten run into some azalea bushes,Time for a cat rescue!
But the cat didn't cooperate, delving deeper into the shrubbery!
Persistently, she got down onto the wet ground and went after the kitten, getting leaves and dead blossoms all over herself and into her hair. And no closer to the cat.
Suddenly, out darts the kitten!
She grabs a handful of neck fur and holds on while she backs out of the azaleas, gets to her car and empties a cloth bag from her trunk. She successfully gets the kitty into the bag and zips it up! Off she goes, arriving with dirt, leaves, and wilted blooms all over her - and a new kitten safely in hand!
True story!
And she kept that one.
So ends my tales. You get three and that's it.
And i finished up with a smiley face.
Well, okay! Pretty cool! You seem to be doing pretty well at tapping out messages on the phone these days, eh?
(Grin!) I am certainly getting lots of practice! By the way, he said it was sad that he had missed so many good cat stories.
Very nice. Very nice. it's always good to feel one's efforts are appreciated. And i do believe it's getting to be a bit late, is it not?
True that! Good night!
Sunday, June 17, 2012
when i drive myself, my life is found
You know how much i have complained here, repeatedly, about driving and getting lost and completely losing my mind?
Lord, yes!
Excuse me?
You asked, i answered.
The question was rhetorical. I was about to tell you a story and you interrupted me, yet again.
Well, i thought i heard a pause after the question, so i was trying to do the right thing and let you know i was listening. So i responded.
Fine. (sigh.)
Fine. You were talking about getting lost.
So i was. Well, i realized something this weekend about me and getting lost. No, i take that back, zfr my laster.
WHAT?! "ZFR my laster"?
Come now, you've heard me say that before. I could just stop at "zfr", but i've always added the "my laster" for emphasis. As you recall, i was in the communications field in the Navy and "zfr my laster" is radio code for "disregard my last transmission." Okay?
Okay. Why didn't you just stop at "i take that back"? Wouldn't that have been easier than going throungh all this?
I don't know, i was lost in the moment. And "lost" is what i'm trying to discuss right now.
So, as i was saying, i was driving on Saturday, riding alongside the wave in my world, and the usual event occured several times: to wit, i kept getting lost. But this time, did i get bent out of shape and rouse the snakes in my head about the situation? Did i rage at events i could not control in the past? No, no, and no. Did my new friend get aggravated at my lack of navigation skills?
(Lifts right eyebrow quizzically, but says naught.)
No, no he did not get vexed with me as I meandered past my turn-off and had to circle back on not one, not two, but on three separate occasions. THREE. Collectively, the three incidents probably added an hour, maybe ninety minutes, to our trip. But he did not lose his temper with me.
Patience of Job, eh?
No, i don't think that was it at all. We were both busy talking, sharing important life passages and thoughts about friends and tales of old lovers. Not only were we talking, but we were listening, engaging our minds with each other's words. And so we kept getting lost.
Because you were listening to each other. That's your take-home message? You lack the ability to listen and drive at the same time?
Exactly.
Dear one, you are going to have to give me more than that. You are surely not stating that you cannot listen while driving?
Well, that's not quite what I'm saying, but it's close. And it's made me realize something very important, something which will help me both in being a better navigator and in being more forgiving of myself when i do get lost in the future. I can drive and listen, but i cannot read road signs, too.
Yeeeaaahhh. Does this mean the radio needs to be off when you drive?
That's right! You got it! If I'm listening to the music and singing along while keeping my ton of death machine from careening off the road or into other vehicles, then i may as well PLAN on getting lost.
Seriously. This is a BIG realization for me.
And on Saturday, i was driving, and doing it successfully, while he and i were talking. But i was not reading road signs. I was watching the road, meaning that i was paying attention to my car's position ON the road and the correlation between the car's position and other vehicles ahead, beside, and behind, trying to maintain a safe relation and safe speed. And i was listening to - not just hearing - his words. And i was responding, talking to him, sharing important bits of my life and my mind and my heart. And neither of us were watching the road signs for direction and exits and mileage.
We could always get back to where we needed to be. There was always a place ahead to turn around, return to the correct direction. I would have him watch for the sign we sought while i continued to concentrate on safe passage for the two of us. And he would help get us back on track, no snide comments, no signs of exasperation, no impatience. Very nice.
Oh. Oh! Really?
Yes. Saturday was a very nice experience, thanks in large part to him. I am truly fortunate to have him in my life.
That's all very nice, but we were discussing navigation and driving...?
Yes, i guess we were. And where was i? Oh, yes, my inability to do three intensive acts simultaneously. Surely you've noticed before that when i'm driving down a street, looking for a coss street, that i sometimes have to turn off the radio so i can concentrate better on finding the desired street or the designated house on that street?
Sure. You do that trick quite a bit.
Well, i am not the only one who does. Studies have shown that folks sometimes need to limit sensory input from one of the senses to better serve a specific sense. In fact, after reading the story about that study, i started experimenting for myself and found some substance to its claim.
My new findings are an extension of my previous research on the effect of sensory overload on mental comprehension. If my eyes and touch are deeply involved with the act of driving, then my sight is not going to wander far from the road without warrant. And if my ears and mouth are also deeply engaged in activity, then my brain is working on processing that additional input, too, to formulate thought and expression of that thought. There is simply not the ability to process words seen into their definitions, causing exit signs to be overlooked. This is especially true as night falls or in the case of inclement weather, when the interpretation of the inputs from sight and touch become even more vital behind the wheel.
So, the next time i drive with him, i'll ask him to help navigate by watching for the exits or streets we need.
And the next time i'm riding solo, i'll write myself some explicit directions and familiarize myself with them before entering my car... an action i have been doing to fairly good success, though certainly not fool-proof. And should i find myself a fool, lost once more, i will try to find the humor - and i'll turn off the radio and circle back for one more try.
Lord, yes!
Excuse me?
You asked, i answered.
The question was rhetorical. I was about to tell you a story and you interrupted me, yet again.
Well, i thought i heard a pause after the question, so i was trying to do the right thing and let you know i was listening. So i responded.
Fine. (sigh.)
Fine. You were talking about getting lost.
So i was. Well, i realized something this weekend about me and getting lost. No, i take that back, zfr my laster.
WHAT?! "ZFR my laster"?
Come now, you've heard me say that before. I could just stop at "zfr", but i've always added the "my laster" for emphasis. As you recall, i was in the communications field in the Navy and "zfr my laster" is radio code for "disregard my last transmission." Okay?
Okay. Why didn't you just stop at "i take that back"? Wouldn't that have been easier than going throungh all this?
I don't know, i was lost in the moment. And "lost" is what i'm trying to discuss right now.
So, as i was saying, i was driving on Saturday, riding alongside the wave in my world, and the usual event occured several times: to wit, i kept getting lost. But this time, did i get bent out of shape and rouse the snakes in my head about the situation? Did i rage at events i could not control in the past? No, no, and no. Did my new friend get aggravated at my lack of navigation skills?
(Lifts right eyebrow quizzically, but says naught.)
No, no he did not get vexed with me as I meandered past my turn-off and had to circle back on not one, not two, but on three separate occasions. THREE. Collectively, the three incidents probably added an hour, maybe ninety minutes, to our trip. But he did not lose his temper with me.
Patience of Job, eh?
No, i don't think that was it at all. We were both busy talking, sharing important life passages and thoughts about friends and tales of old lovers. Not only were we talking, but we were listening, engaging our minds with each other's words. And so we kept getting lost.
Because you were listening to each other. That's your take-home message? You lack the ability to listen and drive at the same time?
Exactly.
Dear one, you are going to have to give me more than that. You are surely not stating that you cannot listen while driving?
Well, that's not quite what I'm saying, but it's close. And it's made me realize something very important, something which will help me both in being a better navigator and in being more forgiving of myself when i do get lost in the future. I can drive and listen, but i cannot read road signs, too.
Yeeeaaahhh. Does this mean the radio needs to be off when you drive?
That's right! You got it! If I'm listening to the music and singing along while keeping my ton of death machine from careening off the road or into other vehicles, then i may as well PLAN on getting lost.
Seriously. This is a BIG realization for me.
And on Saturday, i was driving, and doing it successfully, while he and i were talking. But i was not reading road signs. I was watching the road, meaning that i was paying attention to my car's position ON the road and the correlation between the car's position and other vehicles ahead, beside, and behind, trying to maintain a safe relation and safe speed. And i was listening to - not just hearing - his words. And i was responding, talking to him, sharing important bits of my life and my mind and my heart. And neither of us were watching the road signs for direction and exits and mileage.
We could always get back to where we needed to be. There was always a place ahead to turn around, return to the correct direction. I would have him watch for the sign we sought while i continued to concentrate on safe passage for the two of us. And he would help get us back on track, no snide comments, no signs of exasperation, no impatience. Very nice.
Oh. Oh! Really?
Yes. Saturday was a very nice experience, thanks in large part to him. I am truly fortunate to have him in my life.
That's all very nice, but we were discussing navigation and driving...?
Yes, i guess we were. And where was i? Oh, yes, my inability to do three intensive acts simultaneously. Surely you've noticed before that when i'm driving down a street, looking for a coss street, that i sometimes have to turn off the radio so i can concentrate better on finding the desired street or the designated house on that street?
Sure. You do that trick quite a bit.
Well, i am not the only one who does. Studies have shown that folks sometimes need to limit sensory input from one of the senses to better serve a specific sense. In fact, after reading the story about that study, i started experimenting for myself and found some substance to its claim.
My new findings are an extension of my previous research on the effect of sensory overload on mental comprehension. If my eyes and touch are deeply involved with the act of driving, then my sight is not going to wander far from the road without warrant. And if my ears and mouth are also deeply engaged in activity, then my brain is working on processing that additional input, too, to formulate thought and expression of that thought. There is simply not the ability to process words seen into their definitions, causing exit signs to be overlooked. This is especially true as night falls or in the case of inclement weather, when the interpretation of the inputs from sight and touch become even more vital behind the wheel.
So, the next time i drive with him, i'll ask him to help navigate by watching for the exits or streets we need.
And the next time i'm riding solo, i'll write myself some explicit directions and familiarize myself with them before entering my car... an action i have been doing to fairly good success, though certainly not fool-proof. And should i find myself a fool, lost once more, i will try to find the humor - and i'll turn off the radio and circle back for one more try.
Friday, June 15, 2012
figures on a beach
This is going to be a little different today, so please keep your comments to yourself, i beg of you. Or at least wait patiently while I do my thing here. If you'd rather, you can go occupy yourself elsewhere and i can let you know when i'm done, okay? Just this one time?
Please?
(A glare and pursed lips, giving way to a soft smile and a lifted right eyebrow. Then the door closes quietly behind.)
I'm on a kick to review some of my old music, see how it might still fit into my life, test its ability to ward off new monsters. This particular album/ cassette/ WHATEVER came into my world in the summer - or possibly early fall- of 1991. But more on that in a few minutes. Here are the ones i always sang along with as i went rocketing around Florida and Georgia.
-accidentally 4th street (gloria) -
well we're looking at the cover,
we're spending all our time
just staring at the magazine
well, look who's on the cover,
wasting all our time...
some pseudo-fascist hero-machine
well, that's no space for a human being
that man is not a hero or a saint.
when somewhere in deepest America,
grown men weep at the sound of his name
so it goes and it goes...
all the girls named gloria
sing sweetly out of key.
the sun rose in the west today,
accidents in the land of the free...
well i grew up where they showed you the body count
in color on your dinner TV
and i've been numbed so insensitive
that all i can think about is you and me
you know children from the best homes
they all have guns and butter
they have their share of murder blue
well it's not such a wiggy awesome good time
when the shopping mall militia point their cannons at you..
so it goes..
all the girls named gloria
sing sweetly out of key
the sun rose in the west today
accidents in the land of the free
i love this world harder in my imagination
than my conscience should allow
but accidents do happen
accidents will happen
don't you dare to ask me how.
now everyone believed in the stories 'bout the cadillacs
everybody's got enough to eat
and people always keep their eyes glued to the ground
when a desparate man he's gotta cling to the streets
and i swear to myself i will help them
i will be an upstanding man
well when i walk by and i hear them cry
that money just sticks to my hands
what's wrong with me?
all the girls named gloria
sing sweetly out of key
the sun rose in the west today
accidents in the land of the free
i love this world harder in my imagination
than my conscience should allow
but accidents do happen, accidents will happen
don't you dare to ask me how
----------------------- ---------------------------------
- flex-
Yeah yeah wooooohhhh yeah yeah
yeah yeah
yeah yeah
last night i had myself a dream that i was talking to the president
he said i don't know what i did or where i went but it's all gone now
all the money's spent
i said now what's the matter with you boy
thats no way to make ends meet
where did everybody go?
they're all livin' out on the street
he said
i need your help and right away
you better come out for a drive to the capitol
i said
Well i could walk there in the rain
but it would take forever in the sun
now I've got sex in my pocket
but i flex so much easier with a gun
oh yeah yo
yeah yeah oooh baby ooh
last night i had myself a life and i was talking to the one i love
i said i don't know what i did or where i went
but it's all gone now we can't pay our rent
she said now what's the matter with you boy
can''t you hold a steady job
that's no way to make ends meet and now we're livin' out on the street
i said
i need some help and yesterday
i'm gonna take myself a drive to the capitol
Well i could walk there in the rain
but it would take forever in the sun
now I've got sex in my pocket
but i flex so much easier with a gun
oh yeah yo
-----------------------------------------------------------
-(don't make me) nervous-
new turnpike a blur through telegraph wires
i'm movin' as fast as i can
i'm hungry restless and tired
but i don't need no medicine man
because i don't drink and i don't smoke
i lift weights and i live on pink hope
to take the town and wrap it 'round our fingers
come away with me darlin'...
you look like a friend to me
i will keep you sworn to secrecy
I'm gonna be somebody by the middle of the night
you can check your papers
check your t.v.
'cause i swagger like brando
dance like james brown
talk like john wayne
drive like james dean
gonna be somebody
dontcha gimme no lip
you just keep me happy
and don't make me nervous
i once had a good companion
fleshpot vegas beauty queen
she could disappear for weeks at a time
if you know what i mean
but you, you might be a different story
I could really fall for you
and tie you down and drown you in flowers
oh come away with me from ohio
you look like a friend to me
i will keep you sworn to secrecy
I'm gonna be somebody by the middle of the night
you can check your papers
check your t.v.
'cause i swagger like brando
dance like james brown
talk like john wayne
drive like james dean
gonna be somebody
dontcha gimme no lip
you just keep me happy
and don't make me nervous
now she came east to spend her time just lyin' on her motel bed
now she spends her afternoons just givin' what she doesn't have
she says pretty is as pretty does
and pretty don;t get much these days
when she went down she lost her youth in one fell swoop
check it
you look like a friend to me
i will keep you sworn to secrecy
I'm gonna be somebody by the middle of the night
you can check your papers
check your t.v.
'cause i swagger like brando
dance like james brown
talk like john wayne
drive like james dean
gonna be somebody
dontcha gimme no lip
you just keep me happy
and don't make me nervous
nanana nana now
---------------------------------------------------------
-clam diggin'-
i'm sittin' and i just don't care
taking in the salt sea air
my ship came in and i'm a-wastin' time
in a better world i'd be on an unemployment line
i'm not the kind of man who gets things done
i lie like a tomato and i ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
hey! i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
went to the hamptons been to cape cod too
shot a nine at augusta went to peru
i do the things that rich folk do
i got some beach front down in malibu
i'm not the kind of man who gets things done
i lie like a tomato i just ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
hey! i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
i'm the kind of guy who likes his fun
i lie like a tomato i just ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
hey! i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
dig
i'm not the kind of man who gets things done
i lie like a tomato i just ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
i'm the kind of guy who likes his fun
i lie like a tomato i just ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
---------------------------------------------------------
-independence day-
this is the cruelest summer
everybody crazy with the heat
and who can keep their anger inside
i really want to reach you
could i be your brother
could i be your friend
well you just keep on pushing me harder
and i ain't gonna go to the wall for you any more
cause we're on the road to independence day
when you talk too loud you give yourself away
some people want to fill your head
tell you all the stories that you want to hear
but you always hear the whispers when you leave the room
well i don't wanna listen to that kind of talk no more
cause we're on the road to independence day
when you walk too proud you give the game away
get along yeah
woo ooh
sometimes you gotta listen to what the world is tellling you
and sometimes it hurts too much
there's a milllion ways to die and none of them look pretty
well i ain't gonna kill myself for no one any more
cause we're on the road to independence day
when you talk too loud you give yourself away
cause we're on the road to independence day
when you walk too proud you give the game away
get along yeah
woo ooh
------------------------------------------
-mystified-
seems that others will remember
every time that i forget
well if it seems i've lost the art of conversation
well it seems you go right to my head
i fall over and over again
and when the world mistreats you
don't you feel so mystified
in the mediterranean sunset
speeding train through italy
i caught you sleeping like a baby
you look like paradise to me
i fall over and over again
and when the world mistreats us
don't you feel so mystified
i won't let he world mistreat you
don't you feel so mystified
i bless the day i met you
i will always stand right by your side
'cause i love you i love you i love you
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
-get serious-
they're on my lawn
they're on my lawn
i got the pink flamingoes rockin' on my lawn
i'm goin' out of my mind in my mobile home
get serious
get serious
now i'm out on my own and i'm all alone
i'm watching reruns from the twilight zone
i got big floppy shoes and i need to roam
and get serious
get serious
so lets go throw 'em down and won't you pour me a round
bartender?
and deliver us from evil and give us our daily bread
well the news came down on my radio
we're gonna get attacked by a white tornado
time to hitch up the trailer and take ourselves a ride
and get serious
get serious
so come out of your closets
crawl off of your shelf
crawl under the table and express yourself
that twister's a-comin' down M-59
and it's time it's time to get serious
so let's throw 'em down and won't you pour me a round
bartender?
and deliver us from evil and give us our daily bread
well it's closing time and that's a time when a man should get serious
i get serious when i think i'm goin' out of my head
change!
i am a stranger here and
i want to go where the big boys go
won't you take me to a place where the man sings like the boy who came from tupelo
well it's the same old story
when my search for love and glory runs against the wall
well i will change that story
no more hope for love and glory
but when i pay my mastercard you will hear me squall
woooh!
so let's throw 'em down and won't you pour me a round
bartender?
and deliver us from evil and give us our daily bread
well it's closing time and that's a time when a man should get serious
i get serious when i think i'm goin' out of my head
whose head what head my head
baby
--------------------------------------------------------
-green-
here's a lesson i have learned
play with matches and watch them burn
see the trouble darkened skies
close to my heart the things i hide
seems i've wrecked the honeymoon
found my chance but played too soon
which one? this one? that one? mine?
i can't tell the truth from lies
it started out green but it turned out blue
i can't do the things that love wants me to
i try my best to make it up to you
it started out green but it turned so
blue
and words that slither from the skies
have lost their power to mesmerize
well i was too on fire to know
did i strike some fatal blow
so this is how our story ends
well that's the way that you lose a friend
the room that spins when the loss sets in
what do i know? you gotta bite the hand that hits you every time
it started out green but then it turned out blue
i can't do the things that love wants me to
i try my best to make it up to you
it started out green but it turned so
blue
and broken hearts can mend
it's a long way back from no where
willows don't break they bend
and some dreams they never end
it started out green but then it turned out blue
i can't do the things that love wants me to
i try my best to make it up to you
it started out green but it turned so
blue
oh oh oh
-----------------------------------------------------------
Good tunes for fighting the demons which slither in and out of my psyche. My body needs something to groove on while my brain is trying to sort through the demons crouching in and around the invisible trees. I think i should just burn the damn forest down, get rid of those trees once and for all.. but that is not an option. First, there would be too much collateral damage, too much loss of that which i still love, too much. Second, the invisible forest is infinitely large, impossibly vast, too monumental to completely demolish. So it's track down the monsters, one by one, cut down the trees as they block my path, one by one, using music that isn't even mine, music i have only on a tape cassette.
Sigh. I had forgotten how much i enjoy this band.
As i said, I didn't ever hear of them until 1991, and by that time the figures had sought out different beaches and the band was defunct. The quintet was from Detroit and had a local following such that they put out two albums, but they only had one single that got any national airplay and the regional regional interest wasn't enough for a living. But the michigander i was dating introduced me to their music - as well as that of many others in the ensuing years - and i'm pretty sure he did so because he knew my musical tastes so well. Now, he has the album and i have the cassette and i'm sure i got the better deal, as neither of us have a turntable. Still, i would like to have it on cd, just for durability, you know?
(Door opens and a head peeks in.)
Ta da!!!
You've returned! Very good!
Even better! I come bearing you a gift. I have found a store that sells their tunes, both the album you know and the first album, of which you know naught.
Awesome! How very nice of you to do that for me!
(Holds up a hand.) And, for you, i have purchased the tunes from their self-titled second album, the one you have enjoyed so much over the years, the one which has "Accidentally 4th Street (Gloria)", their sole single.
Wow...thank you so very much....
Myself, i would have introduced them to the world with "Get Serious" or "(Don't Make Me) Nervous".
But, hey, no one asked and the point is fully moot.
Enjoy, dear. And time for some shut-eye.
Please?
(A glare and pursed lips, giving way to a soft smile and a lifted right eyebrow. Then the door closes quietly behind.)
I'm on a kick to review some of my old music, see how it might still fit into my life, test its ability to ward off new monsters. This particular album/ cassette/ WHATEVER came into my world in the summer - or possibly early fall- of 1991. But more on that in a few minutes. Here are the ones i always sang along with as i went rocketing around Florida and Georgia.
-accidentally 4th street (gloria) -
well we're looking at the cover,
we're spending all our time
just staring at the magazine
well, look who's on the cover,
wasting all our time...
some pseudo-fascist hero-machine
well, that's no space for a human being
that man is not a hero or a saint.
when somewhere in deepest America,
grown men weep at the sound of his name
so it goes and it goes...
all the girls named gloria
sing sweetly out of key.
the sun rose in the west today,
accidents in the land of the free...
well i grew up where they showed you the body count
in color on your dinner TV
and i've been numbed so insensitive
that all i can think about is you and me
you know children from the best homes
they all have guns and butter
they have their share of murder blue
well it's not such a wiggy awesome good time
when the shopping mall militia point their cannons at you..
so it goes..
all the girls named gloria
sing sweetly out of key
the sun rose in the west today
accidents in the land of the free
i love this world harder in my imagination
than my conscience should allow
but accidents do happen
accidents will happen
don't you dare to ask me how.
now everyone believed in the stories 'bout the cadillacs
everybody's got enough to eat
and people always keep their eyes glued to the ground
when a desparate man he's gotta cling to the streets
and i swear to myself i will help them
i will be an upstanding man
well when i walk by and i hear them cry
that money just sticks to my hands
what's wrong with me?
all the girls named gloria
sing sweetly out of key
the sun rose in the west today
accidents in the land of the free
i love this world harder in my imagination
than my conscience should allow
but accidents do happen, accidents will happen
don't you dare to ask me how
----------------------- ---------------------------------
- flex-
Yeah yeah wooooohhhh yeah yeah
yeah yeah
yeah yeah
last night i had myself a dream that i was talking to the president
he said i don't know what i did or where i went but it's all gone now
all the money's spent
i said now what's the matter with you boy
thats no way to make ends meet
where did everybody go?
they're all livin' out on the street
he said
i need your help and right away
you better come out for a drive to the capitol
i said
Well i could walk there in the rain
but it would take forever in the sun
now I've got sex in my pocket
but i flex so much easier with a gun
oh yeah yo
yeah yeah oooh baby ooh
last night i had myself a life and i was talking to the one i love
i said i don't know what i did or where i went
but it's all gone now we can't pay our rent
she said now what's the matter with you boy
can''t you hold a steady job
that's no way to make ends meet and now we're livin' out on the street
i said
i need some help and yesterday
i'm gonna take myself a drive to the capitol
Well i could walk there in the rain
but it would take forever in the sun
now I've got sex in my pocket
but i flex so much easier with a gun
oh yeah yo
-----------------------------------------------------------
-(don't make me) nervous-
new turnpike a blur through telegraph wires
i'm movin' as fast as i can
i'm hungry restless and tired
but i don't need no medicine man
because i don't drink and i don't smoke
i lift weights and i live on pink hope
to take the town and wrap it 'round our fingers
come away with me darlin'...
you look like a friend to me
i will keep you sworn to secrecy
I'm gonna be somebody by the middle of the night
you can check your papers
check your t.v.
'cause i swagger like brando
dance like james brown
talk like john wayne
drive like james dean
gonna be somebody
dontcha gimme no lip
you just keep me happy
and don't make me nervous
i once had a good companion
fleshpot vegas beauty queen
she could disappear for weeks at a time
if you know what i mean
but you, you might be a different story
I could really fall for you
and tie you down and drown you in flowers
oh come away with me from ohio
you look like a friend to me
i will keep you sworn to secrecy
I'm gonna be somebody by the middle of the night
you can check your papers
check your t.v.
'cause i swagger like brando
dance like james brown
talk like john wayne
drive like james dean
gonna be somebody
dontcha gimme no lip
you just keep me happy
and don't make me nervous
now she came east to spend her time just lyin' on her motel bed
now she spends her afternoons just givin' what she doesn't have
she says pretty is as pretty does
and pretty don;t get much these days
when she went down she lost her youth in one fell swoop
check it
you look like a friend to me
i will keep you sworn to secrecy
I'm gonna be somebody by the middle of the night
you can check your papers
check your t.v.
'cause i swagger like brando
dance like james brown
talk like john wayne
drive like james dean
gonna be somebody
dontcha gimme no lip
you just keep me happy
and don't make me nervous
nanana nana now
---------------------------------------------------------
-clam diggin'-
i'm sittin' and i just don't care
taking in the salt sea air
my ship came in and i'm a-wastin' time
in a better world i'd be on an unemployment line
i'm not the kind of man who gets things done
i lie like a tomato and i ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
hey! i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
went to the hamptons been to cape cod too
shot a nine at augusta went to peru
i do the things that rich folk do
i got some beach front down in malibu
i'm not the kind of man who gets things done
i lie like a tomato i just ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
hey! i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
i'm the kind of guy who likes his fun
i lie like a tomato i just ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
hey! i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
dig
i'm not the kind of man who gets things done
i lie like a tomato i just ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
i'm the kind of guy who likes his fun
i lie like a tomato i just ripen in the sun
always late for the starting gun
but while you're running your errands
i'm on the beach and clam diggin'
---------------------------------------------------------
-independence day-
this is the cruelest summer
everybody crazy with the heat
and who can keep their anger inside
i really want to reach you
could i be your brother
could i be your friend
well you just keep on pushing me harder
and i ain't gonna go to the wall for you any more
cause we're on the road to independence day
when you talk too loud you give yourself away
some people want to fill your head
tell you all the stories that you want to hear
but you always hear the whispers when you leave the room
well i don't wanna listen to that kind of talk no more
cause we're on the road to independence day
when you walk too proud you give the game away
get along yeah
woo ooh
sometimes you gotta listen to what the world is tellling you
and sometimes it hurts too much
there's a milllion ways to die and none of them look pretty
well i ain't gonna kill myself for no one any more
cause we're on the road to independence day
when you talk too loud you give yourself away
cause we're on the road to independence day
when you walk too proud you give the game away
get along yeah
woo ooh
------------------------------------------
-mystified-
seems that others will remember
every time that i forget
well if it seems i've lost the art of conversation
well it seems you go right to my head
i fall over and over again
and when the world mistreats you
don't you feel so mystified
in the mediterranean sunset
speeding train through italy
i caught you sleeping like a baby
you look like paradise to me
i fall over and over again
and when the world mistreats us
don't you feel so mystified
i won't let he world mistreat you
don't you feel so mystified
i bless the day i met you
i will always stand right by your side
'cause i love you i love you i love you
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
-get serious-
they're on my lawn
they're on my lawn
i got the pink flamingoes rockin' on my lawn
i'm goin' out of my mind in my mobile home
get serious
get serious
now i'm out on my own and i'm all alone
i'm watching reruns from the twilight zone
i got big floppy shoes and i need to roam
and get serious
get serious
so lets go throw 'em down and won't you pour me a round
bartender?
and deliver us from evil and give us our daily bread
well the news came down on my radio
we're gonna get attacked by a white tornado
time to hitch up the trailer and take ourselves a ride
and get serious
get serious
so come out of your closets
crawl off of your shelf
crawl under the table and express yourself
that twister's a-comin' down M-59
and it's time it's time to get serious
so let's throw 'em down and won't you pour me a round
bartender?
and deliver us from evil and give us our daily bread
well it's closing time and that's a time when a man should get serious
i get serious when i think i'm goin' out of my head
change!
i am a stranger here and
i want to go where the big boys go
won't you take me to a place where the man sings like the boy who came from tupelo
well it's the same old story
when my search for love and glory runs against the wall
well i will change that story
no more hope for love and glory
but when i pay my mastercard you will hear me squall
woooh!
so let's throw 'em down and won't you pour me a round
bartender?
and deliver us from evil and give us our daily bread
well it's closing time and that's a time when a man should get serious
i get serious when i think i'm goin' out of my head
whose head what head my head
baby
--------------------------------------------------------
-green-
here's a lesson i have learned
play with matches and watch them burn
see the trouble darkened skies
close to my heart the things i hide
seems i've wrecked the honeymoon
found my chance but played too soon
which one? this one? that one? mine?
i can't tell the truth from lies
it started out green but it turned out blue
i can't do the things that love wants me to
i try my best to make it up to you
it started out green but it turned so
blue
and words that slither from the skies
have lost their power to mesmerize
well i was too on fire to know
did i strike some fatal blow
so this is how our story ends
well that's the way that you lose a friend
the room that spins when the loss sets in
what do i know? you gotta bite the hand that hits you every time
it started out green but then it turned out blue
i can't do the things that love wants me to
i try my best to make it up to you
it started out green but it turned so
blue
and broken hearts can mend
it's a long way back from no where
willows don't break they bend
and some dreams they never end
it started out green but then it turned out blue
i can't do the things that love wants me to
i try my best to make it up to you
it started out green but it turned so
blue
oh oh oh
-----------------------------------------------------------
Good tunes for fighting the demons which slither in and out of my psyche. My body needs something to groove on while my brain is trying to sort through the demons crouching in and around the invisible trees. I think i should just burn the damn forest down, get rid of those trees once and for all.. but that is not an option. First, there would be too much collateral damage, too much loss of that which i still love, too much. Second, the invisible forest is infinitely large, impossibly vast, too monumental to completely demolish. So it's track down the monsters, one by one, cut down the trees as they block my path, one by one, using music that isn't even mine, music i have only on a tape cassette.
Sigh. I had forgotten how much i enjoy this band.
As i said, I didn't ever hear of them until 1991, and by that time the figures had sought out different beaches and the band was defunct. The quintet was from Detroit and had a local following such that they put out two albums, but they only had one single that got any national airplay and the regional regional interest wasn't enough for a living. But the michigander i was dating introduced me to their music - as well as that of many others in the ensuing years - and i'm pretty sure he did so because he knew my musical tastes so well. Now, he has the album and i have the cassette and i'm sure i got the better deal, as neither of us have a turntable. Still, i would like to have it on cd, just for durability, you know?
(Door opens and a head peeks in.)
Ta da!!!
You've returned! Very good!
Even better! I come bearing you a gift. I have found a store that sells their tunes, both the album you know and the first album, of which you know naught.
Awesome! How very nice of you to do that for me!
(Holds up a hand.) And, for you, i have purchased the tunes from their self-titled second album, the one you have enjoyed so much over the years, the one which has "Accidentally 4th Street (Gloria)", their sole single.
Wow...thank you so very much....
Myself, i would have introduced them to the world with "Get Serious" or "(Don't Make Me) Nervous".
But, hey, no one asked and the point is fully moot.
Enjoy, dear. And time for some shut-eye.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
happy birthday flag
I had known something was wrong with me from the moment i woke up today, but i couldn't put my finger on it.
I hadn't looked at a calendar.
The social network had reminded me late last night of Sam J's upcoming birthday, and I had posted celebratory greetings on his wall. I had even commented on how he was missed.
Then i went to sleep and woke up this morning down, down, down.
I started my day texting a new friend, with an apology for not asking him about a line of thought interrupted by the film last night. Before coffee, i was texting, seeking to lend solace. Before coffee.
As we sent our words through the morning air, i brought up blogging as therapy and mentioned how i had been on my beach a lot these past days. He suggested a meeting tonight to cage my demons and i agreed.
Then i had coffee and pasta for breakfast. And i thought i would go through my blogs, maybe pull up a few that help give my new friend a crash course in me. Not that i really think he needs it much, as he's been to my AD house and even seen part of my AD photo album. Still, i thought he might be interested in some of my blogs.
So, there i was, still in my nightgown, perusing my beach for scattered treasures. Posts like rain and "touch" and "irony". And let's not forget about "music festival" and "impact" and "invisible trees". All good ones for anyone trying to get a true feel for who i am or at least the machinations of my mind.
Then i found myself reading all the posts about Daddy and his impending death. And i sat here and sobbed. Father's Day is this weekend and the commercials just keep comin', just as they did for Mother's Day, reminding me that i have no parents now. Friends talk to me of the health and mental issues mounting for their parents and i cannot even begin to know what anguish they are bearing. For both of my parents, it was a matter of months between knowing of their ill health and mourning their death. At least i was better prepared for Daddy's death, having already watched Mama and Mother Pat waste away into the darkness. I was even able to help Daddy continue to BE himself for those last months, as i concentrated on treating him as my Daddy and not talking of his disease.
Then I came across "18 years" and my heart broke. I read it all again, through my streaming eyes, though i do believe i could have recited it by heart. I read the comments again, missing the man and missing our friendship and missing his strength during my first AD years.
Thanks to Sam, i have friends here, and elsewhere, now, who know me and know my story but don't know the ex. Believe me, that is a wonderful situation - they never ask about the ex and i don't bring him up, allowing a bit of breathing space in my new life.
I knew i was off today, but i didn't quite understand how far i had strayed.
I knew it was the 14th of June, but i had muted my actions of the night before, allowing me to temporarily derail my sorrow.
I knew i was missing a piece of my heart.
I didn't realize it was more than one.
I hadn't looked at a calendar.
The social network had reminded me late last night of Sam J's upcoming birthday, and I had posted celebratory greetings on his wall. I had even commented on how he was missed.
Then i went to sleep and woke up this morning down, down, down.
I started my day texting a new friend, with an apology for not asking him about a line of thought interrupted by the film last night. Before coffee, i was texting, seeking to lend solace. Before coffee.
As we sent our words through the morning air, i brought up blogging as therapy and mentioned how i had been on my beach a lot these past days. He suggested a meeting tonight to cage my demons and i agreed.
Then i had coffee and pasta for breakfast. And i thought i would go through my blogs, maybe pull up a few that help give my new friend a crash course in me. Not that i really think he needs it much, as he's been to my AD house and even seen part of my AD photo album. Still, i thought he might be interested in some of my blogs.
So, there i was, still in my nightgown, perusing my beach for scattered treasures. Posts like rain and "touch" and "irony". And let's not forget about "music festival" and "impact" and "invisible trees". All good ones for anyone trying to get a true feel for who i am or at least the machinations of my mind.
Then i found myself reading all the posts about Daddy and his impending death. And i sat here and sobbed. Father's Day is this weekend and the commercials just keep comin', just as they did for Mother's Day, reminding me that i have no parents now. Friends talk to me of the health and mental issues mounting for their parents and i cannot even begin to know what anguish they are bearing. For both of my parents, it was a matter of months between knowing of their ill health and mourning their death. At least i was better prepared for Daddy's death, having already watched Mama and Mother Pat waste away into the darkness. I was even able to help Daddy continue to BE himself for those last months, as i concentrated on treating him as my Daddy and not talking of his disease.
Then I came across "18 years" and my heart broke. I read it all again, through my streaming eyes, though i do believe i could have recited it by heart. I read the comments again, missing the man and missing our friendship and missing his strength during my first AD years.
Thanks to Sam, i have friends here, and elsewhere, now, who know me and know my story but don't know the ex. Believe me, that is a wonderful situation - they never ask about the ex and i don't bring him up, allowing a bit of breathing space in my new life.
I knew i was off today, but i didn't quite understand how far i had strayed.
I knew it was the 14th of June, but i had muted my actions of the night before, allowing me to temporarily derail my sorrow.
I knew i was missing a piece of my heart.
I didn't realize it was more than one.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
morphine therapy
I hadn't ever considered it before, but "Cure For Pain" is definitely a concept album.
You're back? And STILL listening to that same cd?
Yep and yep. I should have noticed before - and maybe i did on some subliminal level - but the music tells a story, if you listen to it as a whole and not piecemeal. As i generally listen from first to last tune, i can pick up on a theme, if the artist had meant there to be one. Or maybe even if they had not.
And the theme of "Cure For Pain"? The message locked in the lyrics?
You're making fun of me, but that's okay. Sometimes you can be a bit obtuse. The theme, dear, is dealing with relationships and lovers.
Let me set you straight, buttercup. Almost EVERY song IN THE WORLD is about dealing with relationships and lovers. And you know why? Well, do you? I'll tell you. That theme is everywhere because people everywhere have that same issue, unless they live out in the woods or in a cave, alone. Oh, and let's not forget that guys in rock bands want to get laid and singing about lovers and relationships tends to be instrumental in accomplishing that. And, yeah, that double entendre was deliberate.
Really. (Sigh.) As i was saying before your rant, i hold that the songs in this compilation were not randomly placed, but are deliberately loaded in the order given. Taken in sequence, one sees a relationship begin between the singer and a dark-haired beauty in the audience.
No, no, no, let me stop you right there! Nowhere in "Buena" does he speak of the girl's hair color!
I didn't say he did, either, did i? No. We don't find out that particular fact until two songs later. So, in "Buena", he meets her and asks her to "come on a little closer to the front of the stage, come on a little closer i got something to say". Then they have a helluva good time, with him calling her a devil called "buena buena".
You're inferring quite a lot from that short little song.
(Sigh.) May i continue? Thank you.
In the next song, "I'm Free Now," he's "free now to direct a movie sing a song or write a book about yours truly" and why is he suddenly free? he's screwed up the relationship somehow, causing her to not even talk to him for about a week. He pleads with her, crying " the last thing i want to do is ever cause you pain." Then his lament continues in "All Wrong," missing her "black hair like ravens," her "smile that swerved all over the road," her laugh that makes him "travel back in time" and "collapse inside." It's rather touching, those lyrics, while the music wails and rocks behind him.
Niiice.
Stay with me now! Okay? Okay. In the next song, "Candy" has moved on, but is unhappy and wants him with her "down in candyland," but he's not going. She even talks about what if she were to die and he tells her "no you can't do that to me because you love me way too much for you to ever leave." But he stays put, findng he has "A Head With Wings" during a drug overdose. He even thinks he can "see the shadows fall" across her face.
Drug overdose? Where does it say THAT? No drugs are mentioned in those lyrics, or in any of the others on that cd, for that matter.
Oh, yes they are! Well, maybe not specifically in THAT song, though they do show up in a later tune. Let's continue, shall we?
Hey, it's your party. Carry on.
And so i shall. "In Spite Of Me" bemoans the fact that she succeeded in her suicide attempt, when he had thought she would be coming back to him. Now, all he has is the video of her and he watches it late at night in his living room.
Oh, brother.
Then, he has an affair with a married woman, an affair on "Thursday" afternoons, meeting "for a couple of drinks and a game of pool." But he had to give that up because her husband was a "very violent and jealous man," leading to his leaving town to avoid a beat down. Then back to the drugs as a "Cure For Pain," the pain of losing at love again, the pain of having his self control "crawling helpless on the floor."
How very maudlin. Truly.
Ignoring the peanut gallery, yes, i am. The next song, he's back to questioning the reason why "there's no map and there's no clue" to let a man know "who to dog and who to ride and who to hold forever by your side." "Mary Won't You Call My Name?" Still trying to find the right woman, he suggests "Let's Take A Trip Together", though he may well mean that figuratively rather than literally as he speaks of "breathing the cold black space with the glistening edges." Then again, he may just want to get her away from all the "anxious questions" and the "nervous wrecks." Quite possible!
Are you done yet? Time is tick, tick, ticking away here...
Almost!!! Oh, ye of little patience. We were almost done, and you had to go and interrupt! Such a bad habit, you really MUST work on that.
Later. Which it is now. So?
Fine. So, here we are at the last song, a mellow number about yet another woman. Her name is "Sheila" and this seems to be a languid, post-coital poem about her and her cat. But is it the cat under her spell or is it him? Hmm? My money says he has found another woman to bemuse him for a while.
Ta da! All done!
(Yawn.) Time for bed, now that your little fairy tale has come to a close. Say good night now.
Good night now!
hahaha!
You're back? And STILL listening to that same cd?
Yep and yep. I should have noticed before - and maybe i did on some subliminal level - but the music tells a story, if you listen to it as a whole and not piecemeal. As i generally listen from first to last tune, i can pick up on a theme, if the artist had meant there to be one. Or maybe even if they had not.
And the theme of "Cure For Pain"? The message locked in the lyrics?
You're making fun of me, but that's okay. Sometimes you can be a bit obtuse. The theme, dear, is dealing with relationships and lovers.
Let me set you straight, buttercup. Almost EVERY song IN THE WORLD is about dealing with relationships and lovers. And you know why? Well, do you? I'll tell you. That theme is everywhere because people everywhere have that same issue, unless they live out in the woods or in a cave, alone. Oh, and let's not forget that guys in rock bands want to get laid and singing about lovers and relationships tends to be instrumental in accomplishing that. And, yeah, that double entendre was deliberate.
Really. (Sigh.) As i was saying before your rant, i hold that the songs in this compilation were not randomly placed, but are deliberately loaded in the order given. Taken in sequence, one sees a relationship begin between the singer and a dark-haired beauty in the audience.
No, no, no, let me stop you right there! Nowhere in "Buena" does he speak of the girl's hair color!
I didn't say he did, either, did i? No. We don't find out that particular fact until two songs later. So, in "Buena", he meets her and asks her to "come on a little closer to the front of the stage, come on a little closer i got something to say". Then they have a helluva good time, with him calling her a devil called "buena buena".
You're inferring quite a lot from that short little song.
(Sigh.) May i continue? Thank you.
In the next song, "I'm Free Now," he's "free now to direct a movie sing a song or write a book about yours truly" and why is he suddenly free? he's screwed up the relationship somehow, causing her to not even talk to him for about a week. He pleads with her, crying " the last thing i want to do is ever cause you pain." Then his lament continues in "All Wrong," missing her "black hair like ravens," her "smile that swerved all over the road," her laugh that makes him "travel back in time" and "collapse inside." It's rather touching, those lyrics, while the music wails and rocks behind him.
Niiice.
Stay with me now! Okay? Okay. In the next song, "Candy" has moved on, but is unhappy and wants him with her "down in candyland," but he's not going. She even talks about what if she were to die and he tells her "no you can't do that to me because you love me way too much for you to ever leave." But he stays put, findng he has "A Head With Wings" during a drug overdose. He even thinks he can "see the shadows fall" across her face.
Drug overdose? Where does it say THAT? No drugs are mentioned in those lyrics, or in any of the others on that cd, for that matter.
Oh, yes they are! Well, maybe not specifically in THAT song, though they do show up in a later tune. Let's continue, shall we?
Hey, it's your party. Carry on.
And so i shall. "In Spite Of Me" bemoans the fact that she succeeded in her suicide attempt, when he had thought she would be coming back to him. Now, all he has is the video of her and he watches it late at night in his living room.
Oh, brother.
Then, he has an affair with a married woman, an affair on "Thursday" afternoons, meeting "for a couple of drinks and a game of pool." But he had to give that up because her husband was a "very violent and jealous man," leading to his leaving town to avoid a beat down. Then back to the drugs as a "Cure For Pain," the pain of losing at love again, the pain of having his self control "crawling helpless on the floor."
How very maudlin. Truly.
Ignoring the peanut gallery, yes, i am. The next song, he's back to questioning the reason why "there's no map and there's no clue" to let a man know "who to dog and who to ride and who to hold forever by your side." "Mary Won't You Call My Name?" Still trying to find the right woman, he suggests "Let's Take A Trip Together", though he may well mean that figuratively rather than literally as he speaks of "breathing the cold black space with the glistening edges." Then again, he may just want to get her away from all the "anxious questions" and the "nervous wrecks." Quite possible!
Are you done yet? Time is tick, tick, ticking away here...
Almost!!! Oh, ye of little patience. We were almost done, and you had to go and interrupt! Such a bad habit, you really MUST work on that.
Later. Which it is now. So?
Fine. So, here we are at the last song, a mellow number about yet another woman. Her name is "Sheila" and this seems to be a languid, post-coital poem about her and her cat. But is it the cat under her spell or is it him? Hmm? My money says he has found another woman to bemuse him for a while.
Ta da! All done!
(Yawn.) Time for bed, now that your little fairy tale has come to a close. Say good night now.
Good night now!
hahaha!
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
cure for pain
I love Morphine. Once, i had quite a few of their compact discs, but now i only have the one. The last time the ex was in town for the holidays, i gave him all save one: Cure For Pain. That one has some lyrics i can really get behind, lyrics that let me know that not only am i not alone in my madness but that others have trod this path. Actually, i've just realized as i was typing that madness is not IN my head so much as a state of being, another space in time which anyone may occupy on occasion, but hopefully not forever. Right?
Girl, you're NOT quite right, are you?
No, but i'm getting better, i swear i am. And we all know how well i can swear! :)
:)
The music on this album - as is my default designation for solid matter on which music is deposited (and that's as far as THIs digression into the woods is allowed) - really speaks my language. Lots of brass, lots of dirty guitar, a drumline built for my hips! "Scuse me while I dance to Thursday.
Say what? Today just happens to be Tuesday, or did your lack of work cause you to forget days of the week?
Ha ha. You are sooo funny. No, the song is titled "Thursday" and talks about the weekly trysts between a guy and a married chick. Yes, it does violate my Second Law, but those Laws cannot be applied to others, only myself. Clearly. Else i would not even be writing this as i would not be living in my AD, i would most likely never have started this blog, and would not know all these new folks in my life. Yeah. But i digress yet again, as so often is the case of late...
Hello? Are you there? You seem to have drifted away?
Yeah, maybe a little. The lyrics on this particular song are all over me. "Let's take a trip together, headlong into the irresistible orbit." I so need to wake up somewhere different.
Well, hang in there, sunshine. You do have that trip coming up at the end of the month.
Yeah, you're right, i do, but you know very well that's a business trip and not the same thing as what i mean.
Well, it won't be all business, all the time. There will be plenty of time for play, too, in the evening.
If i say "sure" will you just drop it?
I don't know. If i drop it, will you kindly step out of your head and back into the real world? Off the nebulous turf of Madness and onto the solid surface of Reality?
"Solid surface of Reality"? Do you jest?? You, off all people, speaking of Reality as some fixed concept, state of being, frame of reference, when it is at least as ethereal as Madness? You, who have ranted time and time again about perspective and its effect on personal Reality? Spare me your inference that Reality is a firmer "place" to be than is the other.
Okay, i can see i've hit a sore spot, so allow me to rephrase and reiterate. While the weather is clear, perhaps you should get outside, do something constructive. Perhaps, just perhaps, you should take a step back from your emotional and mental states and concentrate on something in the physical world, something your hands can touch? Better?
My hands ARE touching something physical. Or at least my fingers are. My white-tipped fingers.
And thanks to high school, i'm actually typing this with my figners over the keyboard in the proper location, rather than hunt and peck, as was my Grandpa's style. You'd think that with his constant writing, he would have found it helpful to have learned typing strategy, so as to minimize his time spent with the typewriter, but he was pretty quick, probably quicker than i am. Hell's belles, THAT is probably true!
Yes, i do feel better. Thanks for asking.
And out i go! But next time, i AM going to finish this topic of me and my relationship with music. Oh, yes, i am.
Girl, you're NOT quite right, are you?
No, but i'm getting better, i swear i am. And we all know how well i can swear! :)
:)
The music on this album - as is my default designation for solid matter on which music is deposited (and that's as far as THIs digression into the woods is allowed) - really speaks my language. Lots of brass, lots of dirty guitar, a drumline built for my hips! "Scuse me while I dance to Thursday.
Say what? Today just happens to be Tuesday, or did your lack of work cause you to forget days of the week?
Ha ha. You are sooo funny. No, the song is titled "Thursday" and talks about the weekly trysts between a guy and a married chick. Yes, it does violate my Second Law, but those Laws cannot be applied to others, only myself. Clearly. Else i would not even be writing this as i would not be living in my AD, i would most likely never have started this blog, and would not know all these new folks in my life. Yeah. But i digress yet again, as so often is the case of late...
Hello? Are you there? You seem to have drifted away?
Yeah, maybe a little. The lyrics on this particular song are all over me. "Let's take a trip together, headlong into the irresistible orbit." I so need to wake up somewhere different.
Well, hang in there, sunshine. You do have that trip coming up at the end of the month.
Yeah, you're right, i do, but you know very well that's a business trip and not the same thing as what i mean.
Well, it won't be all business, all the time. There will be plenty of time for play, too, in the evening.
If i say "sure" will you just drop it?
I don't know. If i drop it, will you kindly step out of your head and back into the real world? Off the nebulous turf of Madness and onto the solid surface of Reality?
"Solid surface of Reality"? Do you jest?? You, off all people, speaking of Reality as some fixed concept, state of being, frame of reference, when it is at least as ethereal as Madness? You, who have ranted time and time again about perspective and its effect on personal Reality? Spare me your inference that Reality is a firmer "place" to be than is the other.
Okay, i can see i've hit a sore spot, so allow me to rephrase and reiterate. While the weather is clear, perhaps you should get outside, do something constructive. Perhaps, just perhaps, you should take a step back from your emotional and mental states and concentrate on something in the physical world, something your hands can touch? Better?
My hands ARE touching something physical. Or at least my fingers are. My white-tipped fingers.
And thanks to high school, i'm actually typing this with my figners over the keyboard in the proper location, rather than hunt and peck, as was my Grandpa's style. You'd think that with his constant writing, he would have found it helpful to have learned typing strategy, so as to minimize his time spent with the typewriter, but he was pretty quick, probably quicker than i am. Hell's belles, THAT is probably true!
Yes, i do feel better. Thanks for asking.
And out i go! But next time, i AM going to finish this topic of me and my relationship with music. Oh, yes, i am.
Monday, June 11, 2012
i just can't wear dresses any more
I used to very much enjoy wearing dresses and looking like a girl. I don't believe I can handle it these days.
Oh, my, YOU again? First it was the fingernails, now this oh-so-not problem!
Understood. Folks who are not privy to the workings of my mind may well scoff when I state my newly-minted problem. Said problem is specifically this: When I wear a dress, I see myself as very "girlie" and I tend to act accordingly. I become overly flirty and somehow believe myself to be irresistible to the opposite sex.
Oh? You find men drawn to you in droves when you are dressed as a woman?
No, at least I hope not. If I were to have men "in droves" putting the moves on me, I just might have to gain weight to recover my defensive wall against such action. Once upon a time, I would have been just fine with heavy flirting with strangers, but those days are separated from these by sixteen years with one man. I am very much out of practice with flirtation and I'm convinced lately that I'm doing it wrong. Or, rather, I'm flirting with serious aim and that isn't the spirit of flirting.
Besides which, I wasn't speaking of me dressing like a woman. Women ARE allowed to wear pants and suits and pretty well whatever. No, that was not my point at all. My problem arises from my image of myself when I wear a dress, and only of late do I have this image in the forefront of my mind. It's starting to make me feel a bit out of control.
Maybe you just need to avoid mirrors. Perhaps if you didn't know how you looked, you might behave differently.
I don't know if that would work. Besides, the problem isn't particularly every time I wear a dress, but just sometimes. When I wore a dress to class during the last week of school, I didn't see myself as "girlie" in front of the students. However, I did find myself getting girlie and shy at times when there...
Ah, now we're getting somewhere! Why ever must you talk in circles instead of straight out? Never mind, give discourse further of thy plight!
I have found myself drawn to a new ocean, an ocean I had not noticed before, as its waves were below the surface, not cresting, much like a lake, still and unruffled. Some few months back, the surface broke and I have not been quite the same since. It may have been early November, maybe shortly after, that I first felt... a kinship stirring the air. I had been strolling in the arboretum, as was my wont, taking a break from the chill of my office on a fine afternoon, a little indulgence in the depths of the natural world prior to my evening class. As a rule, I wander along the inner paths, alone, rarely seeing anyone else. But not this afternoon. He was also strolling, taking a break from I know not what, and we happened to talk. Not simply exchanging pleasantries with each other; we talked. And, as I recall, we talked long enough that I had to break away to make my appointment with twenty-nine students. I chalked that up to a nice encounter, but didn't allow myself to dwell on it too much. Well, not too much, but I did send him an email about the roses on campus and the way they smelled in the sun, and he did reply.
And then?
And then pretty well nothing until February. I must admit that he was on my mind at times, but as a person of interest in the department, a person I didn't really know much about, but he was vocal during meetings and had well-thought-out statements and questions. Even so, we might smile at each other, but we didn't pursue anthing more until after the second quiz bowl at the school. We had both volunteered to work with the kids that Saturday, just as we had both been volunteers on the last Saturday of the previous month. This time, I had made sure I could stay for the entire session, rather than leaving at lunch as I had in January. We somehow ended up together for the final round, with me reading questions and him standing beside me as the judge. He hadn't started out standing beside me, but he was by the end of the session. I thought it was pretty nice that Kat was there taking pictures of us, especially when she and another woman remarked on how good I looked in the fuchsia tones I was wearing that day. (They had previously seen me in blue when I dedicated the two seats in the Jenkins Theatre.) I don't know if that remark was overheard, but perhaps it was.
Wait a minute... So you're saying you and he weren't really hanging out yet, conversing in the halls or such?
No, no, that didn't begin until just after, starting slowly and building over the next few mnnths. I had "friended" him on a social website and he had accepted. Made daring by knowledge gleaned from a comment he had made to another, about the women here not giving him a chance or something like that, I invited him to an event with the kidless group that I've belonged to for the past five years. My intent was honorable: introduce him to some of the lovely and smart women I knew, broaden his horizons, so to speak. I knew he was younger than me, though I did not yet know his age, and harbored no thoughts that he might have an interest in me, but I thought he might well like a couple of the others in the group.
And he did attend that gathering in March, dining at a downtown locale with a long-standing reputation for burgers and beer. And he did enjoy himself and had good conversation with all. And shortly after, he did start coming around my office for more conversation with me - and I loved the attention from him. I still very much love the attention from him.
And that is the source of my concern now. We have great conversations, talks which diverge from topic to topic, sometimes never returning to finish a tale begun because another has branched and consumed the path. We have conversations which continue for hours, closing down theatres, bars, and restaurants. Incredible explorations of each other's past and present are undertaken, learning likes and dislikes, myths and theories, loves and loves lost.
And I find myself unwilling to part from his company. And I find myself stealing touches. And I find myself wearing dresses and being girlie and flirting seriously.
And I need to stop that behavior, because I don't want him to leave. I need to stop that behavior because I want the conversations to continue, I want to learn if he is a new best friend or ... But slower is such a difficult pace for me, as I more often run full tilt boogie or not at all... but I will try. I will, for this new friendship is very important to me.
I just can't wear dresses any more.
Oh, my, YOU again? First it was the fingernails, now this oh-so-not problem!
Understood. Folks who are not privy to the workings of my mind may well scoff when I state my newly-minted problem. Said problem is specifically this: When I wear a dress, I see myself as very "girlie" and I tend to act accordingly. I become overly flirty and somehow believe myself to be irresistible to the opposite sex.
Oh? You find men drawn to you in droves when you are dressed as a woman?
No, at least I hope not. If I were to have men "in droves" putting the moves on me, I just might have to gain weight to recover my defensive wall against such action. Once upon a time, I would have been just fine with heavy flirting with strangers, but those days are separated from these by sixteen years with one man. I am very much out of practice with flirtation and I'm convinced lately that I'm doing it wrong. Or, rather, I'm flirting with serious aim and that isn't the spirit of flirting.
Besides which, I wasn't speaking of me dressing like a woman. Women ARE allowed to wear pants and suits and pretty well whatever. No, that was not my point at all. My problem arises from my image of myself when I wear a dress, and only of late do I have this image in the forefront of my mind. It's starting to make me feel a bit out of control.
Maybe you just need to avoid mirrors. Perhaps if you didn't know how you looked, you might behave differently.
I don't know if that would work. Besides, the problem isn't particularly every time I wear a dress, but just sometimes. When I wore a dress to class during the last week of school, I didn't see myself as "girlie" in front of the students. However, I did find myself getting girlie and shy at times when there...
Ah, now we're getting somewhere! Why ever must you talk in circles instead of straight out? Never mind, give discourse further of thy plight!
I have found myself drawn to a new ocean, an ocean I had not noticed before, as its waves were below the surface, not cresting, much like a lake, still and unruffled. Some few months back, the surface broke and I have not been quite the same since. It may have been early November, maybe shortly after, that I first felt... a kinship stirring the air. I had been strolling in the arboretum, as was my wont, taking a break from the chill of my office on a fine afternoon, a little indulgence in the depths of the natural world prior to my evening class. As a rule, I wander along the inner paths, alone, rarely seeing anyone else. But not this afternoon. He was also strolling, taking a break from I know not what, and we happened to talk. Not simply exchanging pleasantries with each other; we talked. And, as I recall, we talked long enough that I had to break away to make my appointment with twenty-nine students. I chalked that up to a nice encounter, but didn't allow myself to dwell on it too much. Well, not too much, but I did send him an email about the roses on campus and the way they smelled in the sun, and he did reply.
And then?
And then pretty well nothing until February. I must admit that he was on my mind at times, but as a person of interest in the department, a person I didn't really know much about, but he was vocal during meetings and had well-thought-out statements and questions. Even so, we might smile at each other, but we didn't pursue anthing more until after the second quiz bowl at the school. We had both volunteered to work with the kids that Saturday, just as we had both been volunteers on the last Saturday of the previous month. This time, I had made sure I could stay for the entire session, rather than leaving at lunch as I had in January. We somehow ended up together for the final round, with me reading questions and him standing beside me as the judge. He hadn't started out standing beside me, but he was by the end of the session. I thought it was pretty nice that Kat was there taking pictures of us, especially when she and another woman remarked on how good I looked in the fuchsia tones I was wearing that day. (They had previously seen me in blue when I dedicated the two seats in the Jenkins Theatre.) I don't know if that remark was overheard, but perhaps it was.
Wait a minute... So you're saying you and he weren't really hanging out yet, conversing in the halls or such?
No, no, that didn't begin until just after, starting slowly and building over the next few mnnths. I had "friended" him on a social website and he had accepted. Made daring by knowledge gleaned from a comment he had made to another, about the women here not giving him a chance or something like that, I invited him to an event with the kidless group that I've belonged to for the past five years. My intent was honorable: introduce him to some of the lovely and smart women I knew, broaden his horizons, so to speak. I knew he was younger than me, though I did not yet know his age, and harbored no thoughts that he might have an interest in me, but I thought he might well like a couple of the others in the group.
And he did attend that gathering in March, dining at a downtown locale with a long-standing reputation for burgers and beer. And he did enjoy himself and had good conversation with all. And shortly after, he did start coming around my office for more conversation with me - and I loved the attention from him. I still very much love the attention from him.
And that is the source of my concern now. We have great conversations, talks which diverge from topic to topic, sometimes never returning to finish a tale begun because another has branched and consumed the path. We have conversations which continue for hours, closing down theatres, bars, and restaurants. Incredible explorations of each other's past and present are undertaken, learning likes and dislikes, myths and theories, loves and loves lost.
And I find myself unwilling to part from his company. And I find myself stealing touches. And I find myself wearing dresses and being girlie and flirting seriously.
And I need to stop that behavior, because I don't want him to leave. I need to stop that behavior because I want the conversations to continue, I want to learn if he is a new best friend or ... But slower is such a difficult pace for me, as I more often run full tilt boogie or not at all... but I will try. I will, for this new friendship is very important to me.
I just can't wear dresses any more.
Friday, June 8, 2012
you must be dreamin'
Here I go again!
I'm taking on the Southern Cross Novel Writing Challenge, or rather, half of it. I doubt I can write more than 2000 words a day for the next three weeks, as I will be excluding weekends and restricting my endeavors to the day time hours, as if I were actually working for a living this summer. 25,000 words. That's the goal.
I'll keep you apprised of my progress, but please forgive me if I don't share the details. The last - and only other - time I engaged in this competition, my characters ran completely amok almost immediately, carrying on as if they were straight out of a Harold Robbins novel. If you don't know what I mean, then you might want to stray over to that portion in your nearest library for a little while. If you do know what I mean, then you KNOW what I mean!
I'm going to give this puzzle over to my brain for a while, let it develop something to get started, then who knows? I may wake in the morning rarin' to set fingers to keypad or the impetus to write may take a couple of days to fully develop - but it WILL be entertaining!
Sunday, June 3, 2012
i must go down to the sea again
I have fingernails.
Oh, really? How very nice for you. Next!
No, you don't understand, clearly. There are white-tipped nails at the ends of my fingers. There are white-tipped nails at the ends of ALL of my fingers. This is unusual. You're talking to someone who doesn't remember having to ever clip her fingernails.
What?! Everyone clips their nails! Oh, you mean a manicurist takes care of the nails.
No. No, that is not it at all. I've had the habit of biting my fingernails ever since I was young. On rare occasions, I'd take a break for a few days, throw some polish on them, make them look nice for some special event. Then, as soon as the event was done, the nails went, too. Not that I consciously bit my nails; if I was sitting still for any length of time, the nails were between my teeth, nibble, nibble.
Well, if you could stop for a special event, then you could have stopped any time. Why didn't you try some of those nasty tasting lotions to get you to stop for good?
Oh, I did try those "end nail biting forever" remedies, but you know what? They didn't work. I was never that serious about ending the habit, I would seek out the remedy to try to please someone else and end the nagging. Biting my nails was natural for me; stopping seemed perverse.
So, what's the deal now? Why have you stopped?
I don't know.
No, there must be some reason why you have deliberately stopped the habit after all these years. How long has it been now?
That's just it: I don't truly know. I recall noticing before my vacation that I had fingernails. Ever since - hm, March? April? - I had been applying some clear nail polish that I really liked. It's very shiny and looks perpetually wet and made me feel more "girly", even though I doubt anyone else took note. I even stopped picking on my cuticles so much, because I liked the way the polish looked and didn't want to detract from that shine at the ends of my fingers. Every couple of weeks, I'd notice a dull area between the base of the nails and the cuticles and would take a few minutes to remove the old polish and apply a fresh coat. I guess I didn't pay attention to what that gap in the shine meant.
I don't recall making a conscious decision to stop my nail biting. But perhaps my subconscious had made the decision for me and it simply has taken this long for me to stop and wonder about it.
Maybe the decision is a result of a new wave rising from the depths, a blip on my inner radar which could not be ignored, an image rousing me to take notice.
This change is good. Maybe a bit scary, too, but I'm going to see where this next adventure will take me.
After all, I have white-tipped fingernails now at the end of each of my fingers so a sea change has already begun...
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