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 |   Life is rough...I have to write it out. |
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I start blogs.....I neglect blogs....I abandon blogs. I start blogs.....I neglect blogs....I abandon blogs. I started this blog....I loved this blog....I abandoned this blog. I started this blog....I loved this blog....I abandoned this blog. I guess it is a good thing I didn't actually hold my breath. |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Well. It’s Halloween. Kid A is 7 and we haven’t trick or treated since she was 2. She fucking hates it. This year though Kid B is about to be 2 and she would have loved it. But a series of stange coincidental mishaps prevented one of us from taking just Kid B. It is a stressful time for us. She wants to like it, she always thinks she is going to like it, she tells us and herself that she likes it and then it comes and she hates it. It is what it is and it’s over. So at least there’s that. The first Soundtrackers challenge I signed up for was the Twelve Days of Christmas. I rewrote some Christmas carols and it was easily the most enjoyable challenge I had taken part in so far, and remains so. I did the February one and began by saying that I am not a music lover. That it doesn’t hold a place of importance in my life. I asserted that I had favorite songs of course, and I had an arsenal of emotion and memory inducing music as well. It was just that I didn’t care that much about it. I believe I told Charlie ~   who said I must be wrong. Some of that remains true. It doesn’t hold a place of importance in my life. I mean I guess it does, but in comparison to other forms of ….escape/remembrance/release…it is pretty far down on the list. However. I have found that the feelings I have for the music I do like are far from paltry. I found, at age 36, that all the preferences I half-ass carried around were actually true and was able to full-ass that shit. Man this challenge though. This shit was hard. HARD. I needed to choose songs with both a dead original artist and a dead cover artist every day. I just needed to. I needed to choose songs that had some sort of meaning to me. I just needed to. I couldn’t just grab any old cover. I needed to like the cover. I just needed to. Otherwise I’d just be making a list. I was forced. The Type A in me needs complete the challenges. And to be forced to choose a song that had meaning got harder after a few days. It was more fun. It was long periods of YouTube hypnosis where one song makes you think of one song which makes you think of one song which ends at the one song you were driving to all along but didn’t have a map. It was a good challenge. A fun challenge. But a fucking hard one…which will, again, rank it up at the top. So I chose this song because it is Halloween and for a single other reason that would take up way too much space having everything to do with nothing. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Did Lou do a good job? Sure. Does Donovan do it better? For sure. Have you ever heard the Vanilla Fudge version? That one is the best cover. But they, sadly, were not deceased. Go listen to that one. I’d say I was about to go gorge myself on my children’s Halloween candy but only half of my children made it to one house and that damn kid ate her shit on the way home. We have a grand total of one fun size Snickers. I will go eat that now and help her look for it tomorrow. Mwah ha ha . |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Well, let’s see. I needed something slow. Something with a mellow feeling that can be twisted into a sorrowful feeling. I went looking, but nothing seemed to fit the bill. They all felt like circles in an oval hole…there was just a little bit of empty left. But since I am sad I kept circling back to the same people, which might mean I have been sad for this whole challenge…. I did Elvis as the cover artist, now he can be the covered artist. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] I like it because it is so different sounding than the Elvis version. It is not better than the Elvis version. I'd even say it is not the best cover. But it is some good Percy and in Percy's world, isn't that all that should matter? |
| So, I am having a really awful day. My poor Kid A who is already wrought with school anxiety….her best friend got in trouble for some stuff and blamed it all on my kid. The best friend is now not allowed to talk to Kid A. They are seven. Seven! My kid says they both do it and your kid says only my kid does. Here is the difference…..your kid told you all of this because she was in trouble. My kid told me these things weeks ago because it isn’t so strangely unacceptable at our house and so it was an off-hand story to shut me up and get me to stop saying, “What else happened at school today?” Do you really think that your kid is so pristine that she has NO PART in a situation she is involved in? That she was some innocent bystander until Kid A came along? Do you really think that she isn’t fibbing about some details to get herself out of trouble? And see, that’s okay because I can really help you with this one. Here is an excellent parallel for you to relate to. Remember BFFMom B when you got caught with dick in your pussy that didn’t belong to your husband? Remember when you told a few fibs to get yourself out of trouble? Hmmmm. I remember too. And for the record. I have not one time come to you with some mother fucking seven year old hearsay and asked you to shut some shit down. Nope. Not one time. And I have some times. Believe me. Your little girl, who is apparently so far from being an asshole she doesn’t even have one, has done some really shitty shit. And one of those things that I CAN verify (see, that’s the key here….the part you are missing) is that every single day, she informs the entire class that God is going to destroy Kid A. Kid A is a rock star, she stands her fucking ground like a champ. Unprompted by me. I have given her multiple ways to gracefully puss out of a situation she is not ready for or maybe just doesn’t want to get into. She rejects them. I love her. And I want to look at her and say how sorry I am and that this kid is a shitty fucking friend. But isn’t that the point? That I don’t know what the kid said to her parents really and I am not going to act like I do. I am not going to perpetrate some hissy fit punishment. Maybe this kid isn’t being a shitty fucking friend, maybe she just has a shitty fucking mom. And a whisper to the folks on my right…..I happen to know that they are both fucking shitty. And now her heart is broken. And therefore so is mine.
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** And because of that heartbreak I am going to duplicate. I am going to do Sam again, because when I’m sad I like some Sam. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Wait wait wait….as if that was all. I have one more thing to say on the Kid A situation……. What the fuck is wrong with people that they cannot handle their own shit? Do you hear me BFFMom B????? Handle. Your. Own. Shit. I am infinitely sorry that your kid has garnered knowledge you didn’t want her to have already. Real fucking sorry. So has mine. Half of those times she tells me it is your kid. And instead of rushing to facebook – yes because you are so fucking adulty – instead of rushing to facebook and telling you how your kid is corrupting my kid, I speak to my kid (pause here for the audience to gasp in horror). So guess what – feel free to do the same fucking thing. Yep. They are way way way too fucking young for the shit I am having to explain to Kid A. Way too young. Does that mean I can declare it too early and all second grade sex talk will cease? Nope. What the fuck about secrets do you not understand? Did I want to explain to Kid A what the fuck oral and anal sex was at the same goddamn time I explained regular dick in pussy shit? NO! Do you hear me BFFMom B????? NO! But I did have to and according to my little asshole that was because of your brat. Because you see…they are ALL assholes. Every single one of them including yours. You pretending she isn’t confirms so many things about you. And it also makes me grateful I don’t fucking know you very well. Lack of interest can be sent from the heavens. Talk to your own kid, in your own home, on your own time bitch. You don’t get to parent my kid and if you will notice….I am not trying to parent yours. Wait – maybe it wasn’t lack of interest. Maybe it was own personal biased judgments that pinned you as the beauty queen who, blind to her spawn’s shortcomings, manages to raise a fucking shithead. The girl who, in high school, was so caught up in herself that she still hasn’t found her way out. (Oh. Oh. Oh. Teacher teacher….call on me….I have more actual proof! Teacher teacher!) I just had you all wrong didn’t I? You aren’t too self-obsessed with your new home and new man and new job ON TOP of all that time you have to devote to hating your job that you also love and doing your hair and makeup so it looks like you wanted it to seem like you hadn’t tried so hard. You aren’t so worried about how your shithead’s innocence needs to pour all the fuck over you that you didn’t notice that she is pretty far from an innocent little blank slate. Not at all. |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** So I am absolutely not a Grateful Dead fan really. I also don’t dig a band so much that I would do a Dead Head thing. There are things in my life that would inspire such dedicated behavior in me, but bands are not one of them. However….I do like this version of this song. And if I am being honest I can’t name another Grateful Dead song. And if there was one that I would recognize if I heard it…I would not be able to identify it as the Grateful Dead nor would I know the name. But I knew this one for some reason… (thank god it was a cover because shit, this is not easy.) [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Did anyone see that bear? |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** There are a ton of covers of the Ozzie Nelson song Dream a Little Dream. There really are. But my favorite is the Mama Cass version. Her voice is very pleasing to me. It is a great tone that makes me stop and be happy…which isn’t something I stop for very often. Now a ham sandwich….I brake for ham sandwiches every time. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Today I baked about 70 severed fingers and about 50 bats. It was great. I think of any holiday after August as a pre-holiday….testing things for the perfected Christmas baking. Last year was a fucking all night marathon that began as a mere 300 cookies and 300 pieces of fudge. After some major missteps I ended up giving out 650 cookies and 422 pieces of fudge. (Though a total of 972 cookies and 750 pieces of fudge were made. I began at 6 am one Tuesday morning and I finished on that Wednesday night. It was glorious and maddening and my family both hated me and gorged themselves on my goodies. Since December of last year I have again baked 1000 cookies at once. This time for a fundraiser. It sucked so bad that time. Really really bad. But they were all chocolate chip and there has got to be some fucking variety if you are going to bake for 38 hours. I’d like a pleasant baking experience this year. After all…this shit does go out with my logo on it, and that logo does not say, “baked with hatred and iced with spite.” And so in honor of my pre-baking and the fun of tweaking it slightly to fit each pre-holiday I am gonna go with this: [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Plus…at the very beginning when he starts in English and his accent adds that syllable to the word stars….that’s just awesome and it makes me smile. I love the man….I love the song. |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** My god it has been a long ass three days. Long and long and long. Hard too. And don’t get me wrong…I am not usually one to complain about things being long and hard but damn. Someone call Life and tell them this isn’t the fucking I had in mind please. Please. But regardless…challenges roll on and not a damn thing stops and waits for me to dry my tears and put away my pity party supplies. And so we find that I have finally....finally caught up. I live in a very ....hardcore town. This song....it describes the opposite of my town. It discusses parameters that my town cannot fathom. Concepts that offend them. This song is laughable to the majority of my town. When I was a little girl I loved The Beatles. My mom loved the Beatles....and I thought it was fucking cool as hell that she had touched Paul McCartney when she was younger. But I loved John. I loved him for his hippie look....for his make love not war attitude... I loved him because he was John. I still love him and for all the same reasons. So no version of any John Lennon song is going to be better than the John version. That song just doesn't exist. But we can take a moment and appreciate the closest one can get..... [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] And just for fun let's talk again about things not being easy at all.... [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Life is pretty fucking sucky right now. It does that sometimes. It kicks my ass. We all deserve a little life ass kicking every once in a while. We are dicks. Every single one of us. And so today I go with this because….well because…the motherfucking thrill is gone. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] The best thing about BB King is that he sounds vastly different as a young man than he did as an older man, but both are fucking great. |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** So I am gonna go ahead and suppose that we can all understand how good this song is. How I don’t really need to say what about it is good. What about her is good. What about the cover is better than the original. It all just is. Some songs get overplayed and overused for sappy situations that take the deep emotions of a song and apply them to superficial hooker heels and white tuxedos. And that ruins some songs. Ruins them. That has yet to happen with this song for me. It is overplayed. It is overused. People use it describe things that don’t even come close to matching the song. But I don’t care. None of that matters. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] What I want to know is when are the skies gonna be blue and does my heart have to be wrapped up in clover? |
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Helloooooooo…Tiny Tim? Some tulips? Fuck it. Let’s tiptoe through that shit. Tiny Tim made me wish I could play the ukulele when I was a little girl. I just wanted to play that song and that song only. Probably because my mom and I used to sing it in exaggerated Tiny Tim voices through the house. No matter why….I loved it as a Tiny Skeason. [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] And the look on his face....I mean come on. Alternating between what is seemingly extreme pleasure and annoyance. Awesome. |
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