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"Still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise." |
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“The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise.” ~ Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra   To read former musings and shenanigans check out my prior blog:
To read future, more bizarre ramblings, check out:
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| ((The Music)) The first time I heard this song, I was five years old in afternoon daycare, pretending to take a nap. My caretakers would run on the radio softly to drown out their voices while we slept. Most of us stayed awake because it felt weird sleeping at school. What I remember most is being fascinated by the fiddle solo and the slightly spooky quality of the song. I had no words to sing along with or any clue as to what band was playing. For years I would hear this song and the radio and hum along, hoping to one day find the name. It took me seven years. The original version by Patti Smith is pure female punk. Hard hit to the gut and awesome. The version I'm blabbering about though is a smooth cover by the 10,000 Maniacs during an unplugged concert. The song still gets to me. Pick a version, and listen. Seriously...go. ((The Life)) Have you ever had the feeling that the floor was about to fall out from underneath your feet? That the people in your life have a million things swirling around them, one of those things being you, and that they're systematically taking the firefly-like objects out of orbit and putting them in glass jars? Or is that just me? I've been fighting this eerie feeling that I'm slowly being placed in a glass jar, only to be taken out during those key moments when someone needs comfort. Oddly enough, this has happened before. And I imagine it will continue you happen as I am a small, firefly-like object (supposedly). For example, late last night my mom and I headed for the corner store to satisfy out chocolate cravings. Inside was a homeless man I'm friendly with (we'll call him Mel for this). Mel is a nice older man who now lives in the park. He tries his best to hang in there as he's been waiting for some time to get money from the gov't - vet benefits. He's a great guy and I am one of the objects floating around his universe. We chatted for a moment and I gave him the spare money I had on at the time, and he headed to the park with his nightly cup of soup. In simple, routine motions, I was picked up off the shelf in my little glass jar, smiled at, then put softly back in my place. I see this trend happening more and more. We all do it. Those touches of humanity that aren't always present, but still in the back of our minds when the time or need arises. I guess, while I don't mind being that for some, it bothers me that I am regulated to that with others. That I'm slowly being transitioned to a jar and a shelf. It's not like I have a right to complain, lol. I've done it too. It just bothers me that it's happening all at once with some people. Darnation, I'd like to ask what's happening, but you can't really do that while stuck in a jar. Go figure. lol I need to get a sharpie and a tiny pad of paper. I'll plaster the message from the inside. Problem solved.  Fixed it, Lone. Ha! |
| ((The Music)) Everyone needs their own theme song. While this isn't mine, I figured if I stole it from Rocky he wouldn't mind so much. Royalties and all. Survivor. Rocky. 'Nough said. ((The Life)) I actually wrote today. Dying of shock? I know, me too.  I woke up this morning, realized I had entered a contest with a secret picture prompt, and decided to get it done. Belted out a four stanza Rictameter poem. While it is not Shakespeare, I think it's not so bad. If you're interested in reading: "Ever After"  Then, surprise of all surprises, I wrote a lengthy addition that I reached deadline for about yesterday. The moderator of the campfire has been extremely nice at giving me time. Start up and down, the addition is pretty dark and slightly gory. Not to spoil the surprise if you run across it, but there's a heart in a purse. Kind of gruesome. Mercy has issues. I feel good about all of this. Writing is not going too bad. While I'm not kidding myself that I'll get completely caught up, I'm surprised by all I have gotten accomplished. Right at this moment there is a feeling of being a hybrid between the e*Trade baby and Dean from Supernatural lip-syncing "Eye of the Tiger", only a girl. I really don't know what to do with myself except to keep going. So this is what being back on my feet feels like. (BTW, I find this video as funny as all giddy-up, but every time Jensen Ackles steps on the frame of the window I cringe. I fawn over that piece of American muscle car - a classic black '67 Impala. Not the car, man. Not the car.) |
| ((The Music)) This is a song that will nicely kick your own ass. It reminds the listener that there are no real excuses not to do things. Fear is not an option. The power to heal the wrongs that have taken place before by others lies within us all to heal. What I appreciate about India.Arie. is that she gives her honest truth. There is no side-stepping around the areas that people don't want to listen to. While not everyone might like it, you can appreciate the sentiment. Good music. ((The Life)) Last night was messed up. Literally I got about two hours of sleep in between about a five hour period. I kept waking up to birds, to bad dreams, to pain. It was a major bitch. This has completely messed up my energy of the day. I really, really don't want to head to campus today. I have no want to flex and stretch and crunch numbers and chill for a couple of hours between classes. I don't want to deal with the annoying people talking loud on their phones and dudes who wear a little too much cologne. I don't want to haul my crap around and change out of clothes. I don't want to chill out on the curb and inhale to smoke from my fellow student addicts. Dear God, I just want to go back to bed and sleep the day away. I won't though, and to achieve my freakin' goal, I can't. I missed classes last week because of poor June. I wouldn't change that decision, but I have to catch up. Feeling like roadkill doesn't constitute missing another day. Damn it. This is going to be a lllllloooooonnnnnnngggggg day. |
| ((The Music)) One of my favorites from The Roots. Their songs make you move and make you think. You've got to appreciate something that has you moving both edges of your body - the mind and the feet. ((The Life)) Today was an odd but productive day. There was some movement on my paper. Still not finished but I imagine by this weekend it'll be done. I'm really hoping I don't take too much of a hit. Yet, I'm not too worried about it. The pressure in my chest isn't as bad as it used to be when it came to assignments. Progress. Ha. I reviewed a few pieces today and sent out more of the images I owe to people. This makes me feel better about my obligations I've been behind on here at WDC. I hope to get more caught up over the next few weeks, especially with Spring Break popping up in here really quick. Adjustments need to be made. Items need to be written. There's a real possibility that life might could flow out of the this dark tunnel with a bright end. Never thought that might be possible. I look to the future with a little less apprehension. Worried? Sure. Convinced of a dark end? Not really. Life gets rough. After twenty-one years of living in my circumstances I know that shit happens. Happens for all of us. The one certain thing I can is that I made it through to the other side. I plowed right on through. There's some work I need to do to fully recover, but I'm still here to actually work on it. That's something to be thankful for. What made it somewhat off is that I didn't get undressed. I spent the entire day in my pajamas. Haven't done that in years, and I felt all the more better for it. People should do that more often. Might solve some the world conflict. Oh, I got into a political debate with my family. The case with Chelsea King has brought up some interesting topics at the table as well as the price hikes for university. I feel for that poor girl and her family. I can't even imagine. Things in California are in such shambles. Blah. Still, today was productive. Who knew? |
| ((The Music)) The lovely Norah Jones. She's a musician with a broad spectrum of experimentation when it comes to her songs as well as poignant lyricist. Each of her albums has a different flavor, and I have yet to find a song that I didn't like. "Not Too Late" seems a fitting song for the day. A sense of hope - my new motto, lol. Especially with lyrics like this: I've seen people try to change, And I know it isn't easy, But nothin' worth the time ever is. ((The Life)) This was one of those days where everything didn't really fall into place until the very end. I went to my first class unprepared. My paper wasn't finished and I have never faced a situation like that before. Mostly because I've never faced an undone assignment like that. And yet, I wasn't anxious. With all that that has happened a running question throughout my mind is - what's the most important thing? The next class I had held an exam. I studied for about an hour before testing time, but I knew there was much I couldn't retain. I went to an exam unprepared and knew off the bat I wasn't going to do well. Yet, I paused in feeling awkward. That pesky question popped up again - what's the most important thing? Losing June has made me feel as if I haven't been going at life in the right direction, that I might have lost the big picture along the way. I stress out over every test, every paper, every assignment, every class. I've been doing that sense I was little. It's a pressure that builds and builds until it explodes. It's what drives me to strive for my best. That feeling has disappeared. I was worried about losing that feeling. What the hell am I going to do now? How will I ever get things done? But as I sat for a while after my exam, I realized that failing one exam isn't going to kill me. On the big picture of life this is a tiny nub. I will move forward and do my best, but I don't need to kill myself in the process. There are times when I'm working on a project where I will wake in the middle of the night worried about what is and isn't finished. The details attack my dreams. It's this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. Dear God, how the hell did I let it get this far? I resolved to finding a balance between the two states of mind. I need some push but not as much as I had before. I'll be pushing myself over the edge if I'm not careful. It's not too late to change things. As my grandfather used to say, "It's only too late when the dirt hits the top of your coffin." I finally gotcha, Grandpa. |
| ((The Music)) I'm a big Flyleaf fan. They're band that fits almost any mood. They shred. They soothe. They yell at the top of their lungs, then sink into a lullaby. "Broken Wing" is actually one of their more mellow tunes. All of their acoustic tracks are sensational as well. Flyleaf is external chaos to match the internal mental jumble. ((The Life)) It is the first day of March. A new month; a new chess match. I've going through the grief process by avoiding it completely, taking only a few quiet moments a day to let the grief out. Maybe its cultural, or hormonal, or simply a humanistic need to survive, but I find that I can't sit down and mourn. I have to keep busy. I have to keep moving. And so I have for most of the weekend. If I'm not going through the motions of bad sleep, I've been cleaning around the house, washing clothes, cooking for the ladies at the convent, reading old books, watching old shows, building term papers in my head, reviewing like a crazy woman, etc. I don't want to stand still - reality will crash down on my head if I do. My mom and I have dedicated our time to cooking. We made two meatloafs and a large pot of spaghetti with meatballs, and she took it over to the convent. I was suppose to go, but couldn't bring myself to actually step out the door. I can't fathom an empty house without June there. Not just yet. My mom got back tired and drained. She told me they have plans to turn June's room into a prayer room, using her items as meditation stations. This, I think, is a marvelous idea. June would have loved it. S, her niece and leader of this make-shift convent, said she wanted me to pick out a necklace and bracelet from among her things. I silently cried in the pan I was making dinner in. I couldn't help it. I still can't when I think about it. Afterward, I bombarded my mind with a nap and television, watching old episodes of Criminal Minds online. The last episode I watched sent a chill to my soul, but what stuck with me most was the quote at the end by Issac Asimov -- "In life, unlike chess, it continues after checkmate." Bloody hell, is that not the truth? To continue along the path of constant motion I've decided to do MarNoWriMo this year. My intention is to write at least 25k using three projects: "Invalid Item" , "Invalid Item" , "Invalid Item" . I'm insane. Yet this is the only way I know how to function. I mean to actually complete this though. I can't see another way around it but to continue straight ahead, through the sorrow and pain, to the other side of the damn chessboard. |
| ((The Music)) The essence of this song is about love reunited. However, if you look at the lyrics and the way they translate, it isn't necessarily romantic. It could be taken many different directions, thousands of ways, which is why I like it so much. Lhasa's voice has such a raspy, smoky quality to it that it makes you feel like drifting in the air. At the same time, the grit of her voice keeps you grounded. She passed away of cancer earlier this year. It is sad that she has gone when there was so much she could have explored with her music. What she left behind is nothing short of amazing. ((The Life)) Today has been of slow movements and easy thinking. I've slept most of the morning away, waking intermittently with dreams and nightmares of things I still can't understand. There is a sense to all of this. I'm not what it is, but it there, somewhere. We didn't go over to the house today. It feels so odd after being there for practically the past forty-eight. Everyone is in a state of shock. June is gone. We're not sure what to do anymore. I kept thinking yesterday of all the things I loved about June. Her quirky antics. The way she got people to do things. The lucid moment mixed with the episodes of dementia. She was loved and is loved by many. She lived a life of service and sacrificed a great deal for what she believed was right. I learned things about her yesterday that I had no idea about. That served only to remind me and others just how little we knew of this little woman how would have fought off an army with her cane and a cigarette dangling from her lips, her favorite holiday-themed sweaters serving as a make-shift cape of justice. There was a spirit to June that I've rarely ever experience in people. She was fiery, and strong. To the very end she kept her faith. I would only be so lucky to become half the woman that June was. And as she said to a few months before she passed, where ever we go after this life she'll save me a spot so I better remember to bring the lighter. Like I said before, she was fiery, and I would gladly fight along side her. I'm trying my best not to remember her the way I saw her yesterday when she left this world. We gathered yesterday, a make-shift family of women and man, and said goodbye to the glue that held us together. If anything, I don't want to remember her worn out body, or her eyes that not longer were focus, or the cold feel of her skin as I touched her hand to say farewell. I want to remember to woman always remembered my name, who handed out hats to people when she thought it was cold, and who thought all dimples where a sign of angels. There is a part of me that knows most of it hasn't hit me yet. The only way I know to cope is to keep busy. To keep thinking of other things besides that one thing I don't want to. I want to find peace again, if only for her sake. |
| ((The Music)) This was the first hymn I learned to sing outside of church, in an honor choir for the county I was living in. This, in a way, was the song that had me fall in love with Latin. It was such a long time ago (for me), yet I always fall back to this song when I feel the world is tipping off it's axis. There is a comfort there. The old words of desperation, crying out to God for peace. Miserere Nobis literally means "Have mercy on us." The version I'm currently listening to is sung by Oleksa Lozowchuk. Truly beautiful. ((The Life)) The life of a dear friend is slowly fading from the world. She is 88. Her life is one of many ups and downs, but through them all she had come out ahead. She born and raised through the first World War, and voluntarily joined to the forces to combat second. J was a teacher and principal for many years, going to places where others feared to tread. She is a light and joy, who tolerates no-nonsense or misplace sentimentality. She has the ability to see right into the heart of a person. Her faith brought her through to the toughest of times - cancer, blindness, and even her dementia. J has just grown tired, and it is time for her to move on to a better place. I'll go see her soon. To be honest, I'm not sure what to expect. She was a fragile little woman when I first met her some five years ago. Now, I don't believe she can make it out of her bed due to the bowel obstruction. The doctors give her a few days. They say she's in no pain. I can only hope and pray. The tears have come and gone, and come once more since I've found out. Last night I walked around listlessly not quite sure what I could do. She's surrounded by her family, and she is comfortable. I can only hope her passing is a smooth transition. My one biggest fear is that she's in pain. I've lost loved ones before. I've lost friends suddenly and not-so suddenly. It never makes it any easier. It never makes the loss anymore easier to bear. I cannot help but wonder if J is happy with the life she led. Some many things accomplished, yet I never got to ask her if there was anything else she still wanted to do. She is an original. I'd like to think she can feel satisfied with everything she saw and did. |
| ((The Music)) This mind-tapping, slowing unraveling song had me a little crazy for a while. There is a graceful mix of shredded guitar riffs and simple piano chords wrapped around the synthetic melody that makes you feel like you're falling down the rabbit hole. Kind like "White Rabbit", just slightly more complicated and less acid. The whole album is pretty awesome. We Fell To Earth. Listen. And fall. ((The Life)) Hours Awake: 49 Cups of Coffee: 6 (large) Hours of Lecture: 6 (long) Papers Due: 1 (late) Sanity Left: About a teaspoon. Barely. This entry is going to be short. I don't think I can handle much more than a couple of paragraphs at the moment. I'm beginning to twitch. Never a good sign. The concept of staying up for a couple of days has always been an easy thing for me. I've gone days without sleeping before (5 was my longest). Since I was nine there were times when I couldn't seem to relax enough to get to that place where you sleep. Not that I minded. Me and sleep have a hostile relationship. It seems I can't handle it anymore. I've thought about many things since I've been awake, not all of which have been focused on my paper. One of the things is that I haven't written anything none higher-educational related in a while. This might be adding to the building psychosis growing in my brain. There's a theory in my family that I've been experiencing a long-term period of sleep deprivation lo these many years. I'm starting to believe. The insomnia before you to at least provide me with a period of productivity. I can barely function at the moment, even with all the caffeine flowing through my system. I passed out for a few minutes in my Mathematics class. My professor saw. There's no way he couldn't. I'm really hoping this doesn't haunt me come exam time, lol. I've rambled enough I think. The bed is calling, and my head is screaming. Take the night off on me. Seriously. You deserve it. And it'll help me fell like less of a chump for passing out before midnight. Haven't done that since elementary school. Here's a sample of the song. The video isn't compelling. But you don't need you eyes to listen, now, do you? |
| I am breaking away from my standard format of blogging to shout from the rooftops that there are two big birthdays today. As these are two people that are dear to my heart I must do my best to get the word out to everyone. They are people in need of much joy, praise, cheer, cake, and possibly some celebratory booze simply because they are the awesome of the awesome, the best of the best! (Yes, three exclamation points.) To help with the party, break out the bubbly, tape up the streamers, send cNotes and gifts to these two excellent writers and friends. Forums have been set up in the honor. Go. Visit. Spread the love.
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| ((The Music)) This is one of those perfect songs for a rainy day. The song is simple and haunting. Basic acoustics with a female singer who has a pure voice not muddled by needless vocalization. I hate that to no end. This song isn't like that at all. A little melancholy, sure. Pure of soul, absolutely. The band has a name I probably wouldn't have picked for myself - Adult Child - but beggars can't be choosers. Best bet to hear this would be Playlist.com as it is an import. ((The Life)) Today was one of those days that you can't help but look back on it and smile at how history has a tendency to repeat itself. What makes you smile is the little things we take for granted, only to have the come back and realize why we didn't miss them in the first place. Last weekend was my eldest brother and his wife's 10th anniversary. Big milestone, especially in this day and age. Because of work and a huge surfing competition they couldn't really do anything on the day. This weekend however worked out well for their schedule, so the Munchkin and I decided to look after the Munchkinette. The first thing my niece does as she walks into the door is plop down on floor and bemoan the fact that she has homework. Being nine is such a trying time. No one seems to understand. (<---sarcasm, in case you were wondering) She has to write a small paper and give an oral presentation on Monday, which, and I quote, is the pits. Its the basic assignment we all got in the fourth grade, helping us to improve our presentation skills. She's in agony, and I remember that feeling all too well, lol. I also remember wanting to go back to that time. Imagine what I could do with the knowledge I have now back then. No way I would go back now. A nice dose of full circle realization came because I'm currently working on a paper due next Tuesday for my Anthropology class. I'm writing a summary ethnography about the Wahki and the Kirghiz of Afghanistan. Hers is the basic biography of someone who impacted American history. The niece picked a biography of Evelyn Cisneros. I offered a trade in assignments. Graciously, she declined. So tomorrow (later on today) I've offered my services on tips on how to impress the teacher while not throwing up in front of her class. We'll be going over note card writing and timing her presentation. I should mention this is her first time speaking in front of a crowd. When I absently commented that this would continue throughout her class days through high school her eyes nearly exploded in horror. My mom wanted to take a picture for posterity. It is hard to believe that a little over a decade ago was having the same problems. My older brother offer advice in the form of referred pain. Never quite worked the way I had hoped. Over the course of many speeches I've learned to delay mortification until after the speech is over. Then, in the comfort of some small confined space I can freak out to my heart's content. I think I'll hold that piece of advice back until later. |
| ((The Music)) Today I went back in time to the 60s and the girl groups that made them so popular. I was actually inspired by a music video by a Korean girl group named Wonder Girls. This had me searching my mp3 for my collection of "old ass" (as my guy likes to call it) to get into the synchronized moves and catchy melodies of the time. I love Motown. I love the premise behind the formation of musical groups back then. There was a simplicity that is lost in this day and age. Martha and the Vandellas are a perfect example of the musical image of this time. ((The Life)) There has been an unexpected heatwave here in Southern California. Though unexpected is probably a bad phrase. Here there are only extremely long periods of two seasons - winter and summer. It is as if spring and fall have other places to be when their time on stage arrives. They go other places where they're wanted. Here, you can only have the same type of weather for so long. Drives me batty. So for all intents and purposes summer has arrived in November. But winter is making a come back. There's to be more rain and cold coming within the week. People on the news talk about it such a bad light I can't help but grimace. We're in a drought. We need the rain if for nothing else than to soak the plant life before fire season arrives in a few months. Plus, rain is my favorite type of weather. The change in temperature has also made me catch up on the things I need to do. To actually sit down and write a list of all the things that need to be accomplished, only to feel the pressure build in the back of your head is probably not a good thing. My list is long. My time is short. I'm behind. Again. Blah. The sad part about all of this is that my writing is nearly non-existent. I just don't have the time. However, I've decided to put an end to that. At least somewhat. There's a contest that I've been wanting to participate in for a while - "Invalid Item" . It seems like a great way to keep the blood moving. Its been so damn long, its sad. I also entered "The Balance of Chaos Contest" again. That was a real challenge, and I look forward to trying and pressuring myself there again.After I post this I'm going to write for "Invalid Item" then head to bed. Many things to do tomorrow including getting started on a secret project. Mwahahaha! If you for some strange reason want to check my progress for the challenge, click here: "That Certain Something" |
| ((The Music)) Ah, the little things. This was the theme song for a movie called "Wanted". The film was brilliant for messing with the mind. The music was creative mastery of one Danny Elfman. I could go on and on about it (and I will below). It is always nice to have a tune to make you feel cool when you know that you are no where near being so. The final scene was also brilliant. ((The Life)) If you read the little blurb above, you have a clue as to what I will babble about today. It is the little things. Wars have been started over the little things. Solutions to some of the greatest discoveries and inventions have been made from the little things. Little things, in a sense, make this odd little world go 'round. The little things bug the crap out of me. They keep me up at night. I will literally wake from a sound sleep if there's a little detail I forgot about out of place. And its not that I'm a detail type of person. Its just that I can't seem to get the small things to shut the hell up when needed. Picture "Serenity". I'm Jane worried about the grenades. The primary buffer panel is flying off into space, and I'm worried about bringing my grenades. Today was a day of little things. Not all bad. Not all good. Some just were. I don't understand people at times. One of my "gifts" is understanding how people tick, however, there are times when I can only stand, stare, and drool as to what the hell people are thinking. I try to remember everything is a moment to moment process. And that the little things can drive you insane. There is a possibility I said something that hurt/angered/disturbed someones close to me. Or they possibly fell asleep. But I can't be sure, and that bothers me a great deal. There are only so many things you can place into the big picture. I can't place this at the moment. Today while flipping through channels I caught the last scene of "Wanted'. Excellent movie IMO, especially watching it the first time around. It is a mind fuck in its greatest form if you let your mind go that far. What makes the last scene truly something though was his last line. After relieving himself of all that had once caused him grief, old life and new, he kills the person who threw him head first into the deep end of life while staring into the camera, asking the audience "what the fuck have you done lately?". Poignant, smart ass moment. I get that. I want to feel that because I can honestly say I don't know how to answer that question. What have I done lately? There are many degrees and many angles in which I feel I don't do enough. Dear God, there are many ways in which I amount to nothing. Not helpful. Not cheerful. Just that weird in the corner who know too much about nothing important. Its all about the damn little things. I'm a freakin' song. Have you heard the news? Bad things come in twos. But I never knew 'Bout the little things. Every single day Things get in my way. Someone has to pay For the little things. And I'm through with the stories And I'm sick to my shoes. And the walking and the talking, It's got nothing to do with The final solution. It's a box full of tricks. And I'm through with repairs When there's nothing to fix, When there's nothing to fix, When there's nothing to fix, And it all comes down to you. Let the headlines wait, Armies hesitate. I can deal with fate But not the little things. Armageddon may Arrive anyday. I can't get away From the little things. With a pile of cares And a bucket of tears, I could look at the sunlight And I feel no fear. With a mountain of maybes And some Icarus wings, And I'm armed with delusions And one little thing, And that one little thing, And that one little thing, And it all comes down to you. Have you heard the news? Bad things come in twos. But I never knew 'Bout the little things. Every single day Things get in my way. Someone has to pay For the little things. |
| ((The Music)) This little song was the one-hit wonder by a Neo-Soul singer named Res. She's a bold lyricist. The melody is one that would send you over the edge should you be sporting some extra mojo, if you catch my drift. I heard it once and fell in love. Its been nine years, but I hope she can come out with another album. ((The Life)) My writing has taken a major hit lately. The ideas are circling through my brain constantly, but the will to write them down simply isn't there. I keep thinking about writing. Thinking can only get you so far. There was a minor breakthrough this afternoon after my first class. I stepped out of my class, ordered a black cup of coffee and cookie, took a seat at the only vacant table outside the BGS building, plugged into my mp3 player, and started to write an addition that is long overdue. For the first time in months I felt like a true writer again. Also, like a true campfire doer again. I've gotten more than enough leeway when it comes to turn in my addition, yet life seems to throw in the curve ball to send me off course. Today, was different. I accomplished something with pen and paper non-academic related. It was nearly a miracle. Then, Karma decided to fuck with me. I say Karma because I'm not sure what else to call it. I was sitting there, minding my own business, when two loud ass girls come out of the building and sit down at the table. Didn't say anything, just sat. It's a free country, free table, whatever. However, they proceed to be as loud as all hell and make bird calls. I tried my best to ignore them. I'm invisible most of the damn time so I figured their utter lack of decorum and volume meant my invisibility shield was kicking in. Had to be as they proceed to push all of their things onto the top of the table, pushing my stuff back on me. Hmm... I stayed about ten minutes longer past my patience dictated I should just to prove a damn point to myself. I knew they wanted the table and me gone. But what can I say? I'm vindictive like that. I couldn't let them win. It was like freaking high school all over again. Truth of the matter is that I wanted to say something. I seethed inside. When you find your creativity again, you really don't want to be disturbed. They messed up my damn flow, the absolute stereotypes that everyone thinks they are behind their backs - the bubble brain bottle blond and her stupid tweeting friend/side-kick. I nearly became unglued. Dumb-ass stupidity drives me insane. What I wanted was to say the perfect witty comeback that only happens in books and good movies, get up gracefully, and walk the fuck away. I wanted their jaws to drop (in incomprehension or shock, doesn't matter) at my audacity to call them on their shit. I wanted to be Kathy Bates from "Fried Green Tomatoes", hormones and all. Ha! Instead I was polite and left. I'm a little bitter now. At least I got my creative grove back. |
| ((The Music)) I heard this song on television somewhere. Stuck with me. It stuck with me so much that I wrote about it in my previous blog with the same title. There is something extremely haunting about it. The rhythm is like a synthetic heartbeat. Trips me every time. Inspired my NaNo as well. Fever Ray is the solo band if you are interested. Definitely worth a listen. ((The Life)) I survived. Through a holiday season, two hockey games, four movies, a couple of meals out and endless television informericals. I survived the sour and enjoyed the sweet. My heart was swept away by my guy who keeps finding ways to make everything that seems horrible not bad at all. I smiled. I laughed. I contemplated. I nearly choked people at a movie theater. I poked. I held. I walked. I dreamed. And somehow, made it home virtually unscathed. The weirdness of these trips is that I stay in the same hotel every time. Its a nice place close to my dad's house. This hotel and I have a strange relationship. I've been staying there for six years now. I was abandoned there when I was fifteen. Yet, I keep coming back. I come so often now that the people know me. The luggage is the same. The time is usually the same. They see me coming from a mile away. If you ever see a movie called "Up In The Air", I'm George Clooney. An odd feeling indeed. So the hotel and I are at an odd truce. The scent of the hallways takes me back to a bad time, but it quickly fades to the back of my mind. I remember that a lot has happened since that time before. Like I said before, I survived. I'm better for it, I think. Then, there's the ride home. Riding the Greyhound is always a harrowing experience. And, entertaining as well. There's usually someone who is slightly off. Possibly crazy. Possibly drunk. Since it was a holiday weekend a great deal of people were hungover. This makes great, silent passengers. Was even able to catch a couple of winks along the way. This was the first time I went riding backwards. I usually take the bus north and catch a ride south. This time I did the reverse. Wasn't bad at all. I've done this so often I now have everything down to a science. I know everything there is to know about loading, boarding, and searches. This creeps me out at odd moments. The next possible trip is the weekend of the 28th. I'll keep you posted as the madness continues, lol. |
| ((The Music)) Classic James Taylor. Sentiments fits the moment. ((The Life)) This is going to be quick and sweet. I'll be heading on a bus shortly, into the depths of Hell. This will be a trying weekend. I will survive. Updates from the depths coming soon. But my awesome mentor has come back - Gothic Angel gone  !UPDATE: Ended up missing the bus. A combination of misunderstanding, someone losing the contents of their stomach (not me), and the state of the roads led to a late night trip with my dad. Randomness, the Olympics, Korean television, and anthropology kept us both awake with musings for the long ride back. Not quite Hell. More like Purgatory. Go figure. |
| ((The Music)) This is one of the new songs off of Mary Chapin Carpenter's new album, "The Calling". I was on the road a lot as a child. I've driven, in one form or another, up and down the state of California about six times given miles. When I was with my mom we listen to her music all the time. There's a comfort there. Her music always tells a story. Each song has something extremely personal behind it. I could always image her tale, her story. It inspired a great many of my own. Also, great acoustic music for long walks. ((The Life)) Things have gone a little weird. A type of off-kilter weird that I'm used to. The fate of tomorrow depends on the state of the roads. I'm off tomorrow to Bakersfield for some time with the pater and the little ones. I find that the state of my travel depends greatly on spontaneity. As I'm not a very spontaneous person, this can be somewhat like a screwdriver to my senses. But I've learned to adapt. I can flow with the best of them. Truth be told I'm often on the edge of wanting to go and wanting to stay home. Being a part of two families can put your sense of loyalty in definite question. I always wonder about that question, if two of your loved ones were tossed into a river, which one would you go after? I love them all. There is no question. I just can't help but feel I'm disloyal when I leave one behind to visit the other. Divorce, in this respect, is a bitch. If you believe that each one of us has a frequency of which we vibrate at, my parents vibrate in opposite directions. I have no idea how the handled their relationship for as long as they did. Towards the end was like living in Hell. All that was left was shreds. Hard to imagine what it was like when things were whole. Something along the way went weird. I rooted for the divorce. Someone would have been dead if they hadn't. What makes this odd is that they both get along somewhat now. I think much of it has to do with the fact that my pater's new wife is off the hinge. She's one of those people that only has a sense of self, and anything else is beyond that scope, unless it benefits her someway. In a way I can't blame her. She really doesn't get how her actions effect people. However, and I can't believe I'm saying this, my father is the stable person in their relationship. Man, what growing older can do to a person. The fact that I can't step into that house bothers me to no end. Its not that I don't want to. Sharing a room with my older step-sister was cool. She's a great person. And for a little while I could pretend I belonged. However, that was trashed when the Step had to have a dog. Now I'm in a hotel for the rest of my days. The same damn hotel, lol. So, the state of the roads. May be interesting. May be mind-numbing. I could be the thing that drives me over the wall. I got for love. For loyalty. No wonder it got people hanged in the past, lol. |
| ((The Music)) This is one of my favorite songs to hear on a Sunday afternoon, the sun shining as you cruise down the street as you tap on the dashboard, practically dancing in the car when pausing for a stoplight. Consequently, I am currently in my bedroom on a Wednesday, but two out of three ain't bad. Malo was an awesome band out of the Bay Area during the seventies, playing what is now referred to as "lowrider oldies" - a fusion of rock 'n roll, Latin beats, and classic R&B smooth tones. Although I wouldn't be alive for another decade and half, bands like Malo, Santana, El Chicano, War and Tierra was part of my musical education growing up. This music is where I go when I need feel mellow. Or get some groove in my blood.((The Life)) Today is chore day. All the things that weren't done over the weekend, and need to get in ship-shape before my possible departure are in motion to get finished today. The dishes are nearly done. Trash is collected. The laundry is sorted for washing. The kitchen is in top shape. The small things that need refilling have been refilled. Dusting will get in there somewhere as well as some grocery shopping should there prove to be some time available. All in all, a good day. There will also be some homework done in there somewhere. I need to get cracking on my text for my Anthro class. There's a paper due soon, and I need to know what the hell I am talking about, lol. This has been one of my favorites this year. The professor is cool, and soon to be retiring so I'm glad to catch the class before he leaves the college for good. Of course, tempered with my reading is mathematics. Very nice and cool professor I have. Gave me some leeway on turning in my homework tomorrow, which is after the due date. Also made a "Hunt For The Red October" reference - automatic awesome in my book. I decided to postpone my online work until March. The classes I had weren't mentioned well by other students, and within the first week I had great difficultly with both professors. Not a good sign. So I withdrew and enrolled in some the same classes but with different professors. With this shortened time period I'll be working under some pressure. Still, under pressure is on my best conditions. An the ultimate reward will be this summer and having my special someone close by. With the fabulous help of Brae I was able to get Round 20 finished for "The Elementalist Contest" . I plan on opening it back up for entries on Sunday. With all the great donors this past contest cycle, the contest raised about 30,000 gift points for Showering Acts of Joy. Thank you everyone. Off to make dinner. |
| ((The Music)) A very trippy song after a very long and rainy day. The first time I heard Bat For Lashes was when I was flipping through channels one late night while staying in a hotel. I caught the last of her act after she appeared on the Letterman show. Left a definite impression although I missed her name. It wasn't until a few months later I was listening to the radio on Rhapsody, and a different song of her came up. I fell in love with the song, and the album (Two Suns), and found the song I had first admired. When I first got the album, I had it on repeat. Was able to create an entire novel out listening to it over and over again. Might even write it down one day, lol. ((The Life)) Life is an interesting thing. There are times when I have no understanding of it at all. Or people at all. And it leaves this rather odd feeling behind it. There are times when I feel like I've stepped off a bridge without even knowing it was there. There are times when I relive the most embarrassing moments of my life without a trigger in sight. There are times when I am utterly lost. WTF? It is times like these that I get creative. I quilt. I cook/bake. I sketch. I paint. I write. I do something where I can put all my nervous/anxious/angry energy into some else more productive. Then I trash it. Almost like a non-harmful self-destruction. It is my way of getting pissed. This time however I've got no urge to do something else. I don't feel the need to pick up a pen to write, to put pencil to paper, to pick up some thread and piece together a quilt designed off the top of my head. And I can't tell you why. These emotion, these feelings, are like a storm inside. It brews and spins and thrashes, but has yet to blow over. Where is the reprieve? Where is the damn energy? Where's the outlet? There are so many things I'm unsure at the moment. It is like the filter in my brain to make sense of things isn't working the way its suppose to. The more I push to understand, the more I can't seem to see what's going on all around me. Maybe there's a story there. Maybe I can do something with this immense uncertainty. Or maybe I'm just fundamentally screwed. |
| ((The Music)) I went back to an older album from Common (Like Water for Chocolate) as I'm adding new songs to my Mp3 players. I selected "The Light" because it is one of my favorite songs he's ever performed. There's a definite groove to the tune. You bop your head beat, you can't help it. There are a couple of versions of this song that I like. The samples were nicely placed. But mostly I enjoyed this song so much because it is basically a love letter, sweetly yet realistically describing a love for his girl of how he fell and how he has hope to keep on falling in love. In time for the season.  ((The Life)) Currently, I'm sporting a bit of a sore throat at the moment. A parting gift from the Munchkinette before she headed home the other day. I love my niece to death, but she's a little carrier monkey, lol. To help cut down on the pain I'm alternating between drinking lemon honey tea and some special tea with a Chinese herbal mushroom that cuts down on inflammation. It really works. Definitely not feeling the soreness as I was this morning. It seems like everyone around me is sporting something ill. Mom is down with the sore throat as well. There's a stomach flu running around my father's house, and messing with everybody. Colds going on with my guy and his family. Its just that time of the season. Hopefully, thought, everything can calm down a bit. Last night was a restless night for me. I ended up watching a few movies, some I had seen and one I hadn't. "The Ugly Truth" was like watching a reject version of "When Harry Met Sally". There were a couple of funny parts, but I definitely felt it was a waste of my time. Dear God, can we not make good romantic comedy anymore? It was slightly painful. But the restless also led to some productiveness. I finished the judging for a contest I made months ago. In this respect I am such a lag ass. The whole stalling was my fault. I'm just happy I could get everyone the final results. All the campfires were great. Each were original. Each were entertaining. Made be remember why I love campfires so much. If you want to check out some good reads, check the results on the page: "Invalid Item" .Below is my favorite commercial from the Superbowl. I'm thinking about implementing this game the next time my older brothers and I take a road trip. |
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