Friday, December 02, 2005

Why is it...

...when it is cold, all I can think about is wanting to eat ice cream?
And why did all of the good ice cream joints on the hill close? What is up with that? Don't people in my hood eat the stuff anymore? Did I miss the anti-ice cream memo? Someone hurry up and open one in my neighborhood. I promise I will go at least once a week.

Or cupcakes..... I could totally eat a really fluffy cupcake right now with bubblegum pink frosting and maybe a couple of sprinkles. Mmmmmmmm....

I'm hungry.

Bumming hard.

After spending a long day of dealing with major car BS and spending too many $$$ on it, all I wanted to do was go see a rock show. I was really looking forward to it. Jeannine and I got there early to eat a little food and claim a table before the swarms showed up. We had perfect seating, rock star parking and yummy food and drinks. They told us the show was cancelled and gave us our money back.
We left and were very sad.
I got an email this morning that said, the show ended up being un-cancelled after we left and turned into a really fun time.
I want a rewind for yesterday.


Wednesday, November 30, 2005

None of this post is true. Do not read it.

My head is so backwards right now. I don't even know how to talk about it without opening cans of worms that I don't want opened. I love my friends, and I wish I could tell all of you every little thing, but I have to keep some secrets in my vault. Today the vault feels like it is about to burst and spill out every random private thought that has ever crossed my mind, every thing I never meant to tell anyone.
There are so many things I wish I could write about. I could easily write novels and they would certainly be interesting, but I fear they would unravel my whole life one thought at a time.

Don't worry.

This is all a lie.

...back to your regularly scheduled program...

Apples to Oranges... Her Extraordinary Machine.

Been spending some QT with the new Fiona Apple record lately. Her very signature bouncy piano sound, funky lyrics and determined sounding vocals are all there. I like it in a familiar kind of way, but not as much as her last record.
Why? Because she sounds too content.
I must admit, I really liked super angry Fiona a lot better. She was the Fiona who was ravaged by the highs and lows of young love where there is no logic involved. The Fiona who would make mountains out of molehills; tragedy out of teen love. I would turn her on full blast while driving down the street after getting mad at my boyfriend. It was silly, but a good kind of silly. Now she just sort of sounds like a grown up. That is disappointing to me.
Also, this record seems to have a bouncy show tune feel to it. Quite a few of the songs I can see her dancing in a top hat, wearing a sequined bow tie and doing a tap number all Fosse style. I understand why they didn't want to release this one. It is good, but it isn't going to make anyone close to the kind of money the last one made.

At least it is well produced and polished in a way only Jon Brion is capable of. For that it is worth owning.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


Sometimes when I get really bored at work I play this game in my head.
What you do is you try to figure out what you would say to certain people if you had their undivided attention for 5 minutes. All sorts of people. From the president to random celebrities to that crazy smoking lady at the bus stop. It is all about practicing your conversation skills.

It started because when I was a very little girl I was so painfully shy. I spent a lot of my time with my head buried in the back of my mom or dad's knee when people tried to speak to me. My parents used to tell people what a chatterbox I was at home and how they thought it was funny that I would get so shy around people I didn't know. I decided I needed to force myself to act the same way towards strangers as I did to them at home. I saw their comments as negative criticism; a personality fault they would point out to strangers again and again. I was determined to change.
I started talking to everyone and saying nothing, just as long as I was talking. This made the family start to criticize me in a different way. They gave me unflattering nicknames that pretty much all boiled down to saying "She talks too much."

I would get so upset by how they would tease because I thought I was only doing what they wanted. So then I switched gears again and made it a point to go for hours without saying a word. I would watch the clock and count the words I would have to speak if I spoke. I would count the words that they were speaking and compare their numbers to mine in my head. I would only speak when someone spoke to me. Only answer direct questions if I had to verbally. I would shake my head if I could get away with a simple yes or no answer.
The thing is, no matter how long I would remain mute, the second three words came out of my mouth they would say, "Oh, there she goes again!" and laugh knowingly to one another.
It was insulting, even to a five year old.
I would try to argue that it wasn't accurate because I only spoke "this number of words" in the last two hours compared to all of the words they had spilled out, the numbers didn't lie, but that mattered not.

When we moved to Alaska, I was 7 and it was a whole new problem for me. I had a horrible midwestern accent. I sounded pretty Fargo if you know what I mean. Everything seemed to come out of my nose and I put an accent on sounds that the other kids didn't. I used words like 'ain't' because that is what everyone used around me while I was growing up. My accent made me sound simple and therefor people thought I was. I picked up some pretty insulting nicknames because of my accent. I was treated like I was slow by certain teachers, that is until I was tested and they realized I was much further ahead than they ever imagined. This time the numbers worked to my advantage.

I had one particular teacher who really changed her attitude towards me after she saw my test scores. She started riding me and correcting my grammar all of the time. She told me that I would probably not like her very much for it then, but when I grew up I would be glad she did this for me. She worked with me every day for the whole school year making me pronounce things over and over and over again until my accent was almost completely gone. To this day I hear her voice in my head if I slip and I don't sound like the rest of my family. Even my little brother has a stronger midwest accent than I do, and he was just a baby when we left!
I think I still sound a touch nasal because that is just where that particular voice comes from and there is no shaking that, but I accent things in the right places for the most part, and I don't ever use the word "ain't" anymore unless I am being silly and even then it makes me feel uncomfortable.

Needless to say, with all of this controversy about the sound of my voice in my most formative years, I was made very self-conscious about speaking. So I play these games where I practice conversing with people in my head.

Now my job is to talk to strangers on the phone every day. Nice.

A poem I wrote, lost, and found again...

The changing face of love
is as inconsistent and dependable as the
changing seasons

As damaged as imperfections wear
With beauty prepared by idle hands

In a sinless act of courage
a bearing of a soul
two naked individuals
-too stunted to persuade growth-
learned that letting go
is the secret to holding on

Not by grasp or grip or feats of strength
or by the measure of a heart

But the gift to recognize
-to know when-
Love is not enough.

Monday, November 28, 2005

This song is threatening to make me cry at work.

"Wanted to believe in all the words that i was speaking
As we moved together in the dark
And all the friends that i was telling
And all the playful misspellings
And every bite i gave you left a mark"

"All I see are dark grey clouds
In the distance moving closer with every hour
So when you ask "was something wrong?"
That i think "you're damn right there is but we can't talk about it now.
No, we can't talk about it now."

In my life I've loved them all...

I had the strangest dream last night about someone I have not thought about in a very long time. The mind is such a strange thing. I always find it fascinating what my subconscious will cook up when I don't have control of it. I LOVE waking up asking myself, "What in the heck was that all about?"

No really. I do.

My husband needs to come home soon.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

This is the sound of settling...

I just got home from the movies. I went to see Shopgirl. I can’t stop thinking about it. Somehow it tapped into a feeling of sadness or longing or something that I can’t put my finger on. It is just rolling over and over in my mind tumbling down a hill into nothingness with only flashes of clarity.
It was a pretty good movie. I could relate to it all too well.

The weekend went by all too quickly. I had a wonderful time spending loads of QT with some of the most amazing women I know. They are all strong and beautiful and special in their own various ways. I love watching their lives unfold and being there as a sounding board as each thing happens. I love being the only mom, and getting to draw on that when it feels like they need it. I love the amount of love I get in return from them. What completely amazing people I am lucky enough to know and call my friends.

We added two new members to our already too full house. When Darian and Diane came to get me from work on Friday afternoon they told me a story about how they had gone to the pet store and were looking at all of the little furry things. They said when they were looking at the mice there were two that caught their eye and hearts. One was the only black mouse in the whole cage full of little white mice. She was jet black and a little bigger than all of the rest. Darian said she seemed athletic because she just kept running on the wheel like it was going to eventually take her somewhere. They called her Xena. The second was a little white mouse, smaller than to rest who was pushing her little face up against the cage. She was getting along OK, but was missing one of her front legs. They knew in a cage full of perfect healthy mice, a little three legged mouse had no chance of getting adopted and would more thank likely end up snake food. What Darian wanted to do is get the three legged mouse and then get the Xena mouse to protect it. So that is what we did. We named her Tripod.
Xena and Tripod are very happy in their new digs. They both run on the wheel pretty much all of the time. Tripod was a little shy at first but now she is out and about and looks very confident in her new surroundings. They play all day and then they cuddle together and sleep in a sweet little pile at night. The kitties love to watch them run in their wheel. I think they are going to be very happy.

Final count we have three humans and 8 fuzzy things. What can I say? I am a sucker for a sad little furry face.

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