So.
I'm back to work. Couldn't you tell? There hasn't been a blog here in like what....? A month and a half? I've been so freaking tired at night that I've consistently been in bed by 11:30. Me. In bed. 11:30. It's almost like an anomaly or something.
I started back to work the week leading up to Thanksgiving, doing something that I fell into completely by accident, but that I've ended up absolutely loving. I put my name in for substituting at a neighboring school district (my kids district wasn't hiring, unfortunately, but this district has essentially the same schedule) and within a week, I was interviewed for a substitute cafeteria position and within another week, I was made the head cook at the districts Intermediate School (grades 3-5), cooking lunch for 350 kids every day. Talk about a whirlwind.
Let me tell you, though. Being a sedentary creature for the last 5 years has NOT helped me prepare for this job. At all. I start at 9:00am every day, and I don't sit down until 1:30 when I climb into my car to go home. It's constant physical activity, which my body has taken it's own sweet time getting used to. The aches and pains and muscle strain the first couple of weeks was devastating, but I'm finally getting there. For anyone who anytime in their life has ever made fun of a cafeteria lady...take it back. Take it back now. There are no harder workers in ANY school anywhere than those that prepare that meal for those kids every day. I can say that now that I'm among their ranks. The job I do every day kicks my ass.
And I absolutely, positively LOVE IT. It's the best job I've ever done. Ever. Not only do I love the fast pace and the responsibility that I have, but I adore the women I work with. In a very short time we've become a well oiled machine, and better than that, we've become friends, which I'm sad to say, was something that was sorely lacking in my life. My real life anyway. I have cyber friends that I love dearly (and have neglected awfully lately. Me bad), but having that personal contact every day is something that I didn't realize I needed so much. I was becoming a bit of a Hermitt McDermitt in my own home, but thankfully, that's now been remedied. I can't live the life of a hermit. It's way too lonely. No offense to hermits.
Oh, and bringing home a paycheck again feels great. No complaints there.
The best part is that I leave after my kids leave and I'm home before they get home. They don't even miss me. I'm blessed. I truly did fall into the perfect job for me.
Oh...one more added perk. Since I've been busting my ass, running around like a mad woman, and drinking more water than I have in ages, I've managed to lose 12 pounds. Not bad!
So, we're 10 or so days away from Christmas again, I'm just about done shopping, and I'm dumbfounded that the holiday is upon us again already. It feels like once we get past Halloween, the time just flies. But it's good. Our tree is gorgeous and the kids are uber excited so it'll be fine. I'm just hoping that I have the oomph to do all the cooking that I normally do. I'm so whupped I don't want to do anything at night!
On a slightly sad note, one of our parakeets died on Sunday. My little Finback, aka Finn. Rest in peace, little fella. I loved you.
I feel like there was so much more that I wanted to write about, but now that I've sat and begun typing, it's all escaped me. It'll come back to me tonight when I'm lying in bed pondering my day, as so many things often do. Why is it that my best thinking comes on the brink of sleep instead of when my hands are on the keyboard?
I guess that's one of life's little mysteries best left unsolved.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Two Blogs In One Day
Being that blog time is one hour behind my real time, I can effectively name this blog as stated above. My wit is astounding. *rolls eyes*
Anyway...
I unabashedly love Neil Finn. I've never made any bones about that to anyone. I try to keep my raving about him to a minimum here, or maybe I'll refer to him discreetly, but this post is dedicated to YOU, Neil Finn, because you deserve it!
Let's get one thing straight first. The man is a phenomenal talent. Even if you don't like his melodies, take a moment to read his lyrics. Then, read them again. Find something different the second time? You'll find something different the third and fourth as well. His words are gloriously open ended, vague, sometimes confusing, but so personal and cohesive that you often find yourself shaking your head and saying "Yes...yes. That's me. I GET it." It's his ability to let the listener find themselves in his songs that makes his music timeless. A Neil Finn song is unmistakable. It's instantly recognizable. It's as close to musical nirvana as one can hope to get.
"It's so far to fall and so hard to climb
Nothing sadder I know, than the passing of time..."
The middle eight from "English Trees", a sublimely melancholy song, with a soft, lilting melody that takes you through grief, pain, mourning, loss...and even though Neil wrote it, it could be about anyone's loss, anyone's grief, anyone's pain. It's one of his more personal songs, but it's written in such a way that it's personal to everyone. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but if you hear the song, you'll understand exactly what I mean.
But even his personal experiences can pop up in ethereal ways:
"Vacant eyes can't describe my hunger for your billowing arms.."
The imagery and the emotion in that line has always struck me. Vacant. Hungry. Billowing. So very beautiful, but rooted in such a subjective response. It sounds like a lovers lament, but really, it's all about missing a departed loved one. And it's perhaps one of the most haunting and passionate expressions of sorrow I've ever heard.
"I lean the slightest bit towards you
White turns into brown
light goes to black
your eyes danced in my reflection
and the horse ate my trousers"
Quite histrionic, isn't it? The play on words, the use of contradictory colors, the good fading into bad, the light going to dark. And to make light of the whole situation, an unfortunate true story of a hungry horse in an open field, nibbling on his pants. I mean...who else can DO that in a song and make it sound so good?
There are too many superb lyrical references for me to start listing them all, but I have my favorites, which I'm sure some of you have seen pop up now again in posts or sig lines and banners. I have my constant favorites, and then, once in awhile, a line will pop out at me from a song I've heard tons of times and suddenly take on new meaning, or it will suddenly become relevant in my life for one reason or another. An example:
"Love this life, even when it's holding you down..."
A line from a song from 1988. I can conservatively estimate that I'd heard this song at least 500 times in the last 20 years, then one day, that line had meaning for me. Significance. Relevance. I was stressed out and feeling generally down on everything...and POP. Talk about putting things into perspective.
When I was finally able to meet Neil last August, it truly was a dream come true. I'd been waiting 20 years...20 YEARS! Music has always been a transcendent thing for me, and to finally shake the hand of the one person who has been a constant for me was a deeply moving experience. He was as wonderful as I always dreamed he would be. He was earnest and thankful, easy and warm. He looked me in the eye. He was genuine. It reaffirmed my faith and my devotion. It validated my admiration.
I now know, at this point in my life, that having a talent based appreciation for someone can often result in a visceral and aesthetic appreciation as well. And an appreciation I certainly do have. I'll admit to having a crush on Neil for a very long time now. What can I say? I'm a sucker for an accent! I won't spend too much time expostulating about his finer features (although there are many) but I'll leave it simply by saying that his innate talent gives me a greater appreciation of ...uh....his OTHER talents.
That's to say, he has the most gorgeous blue-green eyes on earth and the easiest, sexiest smile. There. I said it. Now deal with it.
I won't even get into the hands.
The hands.....
Ahem.
So anyway, there is my short, but honest amblings. I know I've bored you to death, but that's okay. I enjoyed writing it. And now that it's all off my chest, I can go back to my normal, cliched crap.
But that's not to say, there won't be more discreet references....
Anyway...
I unabashedly love Neil Finn. I've never made any bones about that to anyone. I try to keep my raving about him to a minimum here, or maybe I'll refer to him discreetly, but this post is dedicated to YOU, Neil Finn, because you deserve it!
Let's get one thing straight first. The man is a phenomenal talent. Even if you don't like his melodies, take a moment to read his lyrics. Then, read them again. Find something different the second time? You'll find something different the third and fourth as well. His words are gloriously open ended, vague, sometimes confusing, but so personal and cohesive that you often find yourself shaking your head and saying "Yes...yes. That's me. I GET it." It's his ability to let the listener find themselves in his songs that makes his music timeless. A Neil Finn song is unmistakable. It's instantly recognizable. It's as close to musical nirvana as one can hope to get.
"It's so far to fall and so hard to climb
Nothing sadder I know, than the passing of time..."
The middle eight from "English Trees", a sublimely melancholy song, with a soft, lilting melody that takes you through grief, pain, mourning, loss...and even though Neil wrote it, it could be about anyone's loss, anyone's grief, anyone's pain. It's one of his more personal songs, but it's written in such a way that it's personal to everyone. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but if you hear the song, you'll understand exactly what I mean.
But even his personal experiences can pop up in ethereal ways:
"Vacant eyes can't describe my hunger for your billowing arms.."
The imagery and the emotion in that line has always struck me. Vacant. Hungry. Billowing. So very beautiful, but rooted in such a subjective response. It sounds like a lovers lament, but really, it's all about missing a departed loved one. And it's perhaps one of the most haunting and passionate expressions of sorrow I've ever heard.
"I lean the slightest bit towards you
White turns into brown
light goes to black
your eyes danced in my reflection
and the horse ate my trousers"
Quite histrionic, isn't it? The play on words, the use of contradictory colors, the good fading into bad, the light going to dark. And to make light of the whole situation, an unfortunate true story of a hungry horse in an open field, nibbling on his pants. I mean...who else can DO that in a song and make it sound so good?
There are too many superb lyrical references for me to start listing them all, but I have my favorites, which I'm sure some of you have seen pop up now again in posts or sig lines and banners. I have my constant favorites, and then, once in awhile, a line will pop out at me from a song I've heard tons of times and suddenly take on new meaning, or it will suddenly become relevant in my life for one reason or another. An example:
"Love this life, even when it's holding you down..."
A line from a song from 1988. I can conservatively estimate that I'd heard this song at least 500 times in the last 20 years, then one day, that line had meaning for me. Significance. Relevance. I was stressed out and feeling generally down on everything...and POP. Talk about putting things into perspective.
When I was finally able to meet Neil last August, it truly was a dream come true. I'd been waiting 20 years...20 YEARS! Music has always been a transcendent thing for me, and to finally shake the hand of the one person who has been a constant for me was a deeply moving experience. He was as wonderful as I always dreamed he would be. He was earnest and thankful, easy and warm. He looked me in the eye. He was genuine. It reaffirmed my faith and my devotion. It validated my admiration.
I now know, at this point in my life, that having a talent based appreciation for someone can often result in a visceral and aesthetic appreciation as well. And an appreciation I certainly do have. I'll admit to having a crush on Neil for a very long time now. What can I say? I'm a sucker for an accent! I won't spend too much time expostulating about his finer features (although there are many) but I'll leave it simply by saying that his innate talent gives me a greater appreciation of ...uh....his OTHER talents.
That's to say, he has the most gorgeous blue-green eyes on earth and the easiest, sexiest smile. There. I said it. Now deal with it.
I won't even get into the hands.
The hands.....
Ahem.
So anyway, there is my short, but honest amblings. I know I've bored you to death, but that's okay. I enjoyed writing it. And now that it's all off my chest, I can go back to my normal, cliched crap.
But that's not to say, there won't be more discreet references....
I Realized Something Today
You can't force a good blog. Or even a bad one. Sometimes, I can manage something mediocre, but mostly, I just need to wait for inspiration to hit, which is not happening now, so I'll put you out of your misery and end this one here.
I wish I had a bologna sandwich.
I wish I had a bologna sandwich.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
A Vision Spectacular In Grace
So, everything has been good. Life has been chugging along at a nice, slow, even pace. No curve balls, no forks in the road, nothing life altering or even remotely strange. It's been good. Very good.
The house thing is at a stall right now...okay, maybe more of a low idle. My parents have decided to go another route for some reason, so it looks like the big "living together" thing has taken a nosedive. I'm not sure what the reason is for them backing out of this...maybe they just wanted their own place, maybe they couldn't stand the thought of having to live with me....who knows. Either way, it was kind of a surprise after how gung ho they were about it at first. But hey, it's their life, their choices, their decisions. In one of life's great ironies, I find that I have to let my parents go.
We did find a house we liked though. A beautiful raised ranch with a full apartment underneath. It's a gorgeous house, and it would afford us more room AND a source of income if we were able to rent out the bottom. It needs a little bit of updating, but it was a foreclosure and the price is SO right. So right in fact, that we could move on it today, but we're waiting. The bank has lowered the price twice in three months that we've had our eye on it, so we're waiting to see if they lower it again. So either we buy the house or we stay here and expand. Either way, we win.
On a side note, the trees here in upstate New York are about to take center stage. All the trees now have brilliant tinges of strawberry red, yellow, bright orange, and eggplant purple and when the sun hits them just right, it's like they come alive in a sparkling array of glistening light. It truly is one of life's little pleasures to go out your front door and have your breath taken away by the wonder that nature can create. In two weeks time, the colors will peak, the roads will be packed with leaf peepers, and I'll truly remember why it is that I love this part of the country so much.
And then, with a brisk October wind, it will all be gone.
It's good, though. Because watching your children jump into crisp fallen leaves is ANOTHER of life's little pleasures. There's just something about kissing a little nose that's red with cold, cheeks that are flush with the uninhibited abandon of childhood. I sit here and smile just thinking about their faces all wide eyed with laughter and love and mischievous fun.
I mean, truly. Is there anything better?
The house thing is at a stall right now...okay, maybe more of a low idle. My parents have decided to go another route for some reason, so it looks like the big "living together" thing has taken a nosedive. I'm not sure what the reason is for them backing out of this...maybe they just wanted their own place, maybe they couldn't stand the thought of having to live with me....who knows. Either way, it was kind of a surprise after how gung ho they were about it at first. But hey, it's their life, their choices, their decisions. In one of life's great ironies, I find that I have to let my parents go.
We did find a house we liked though. A beautiful raised ranch with a full apartment underneath. It's a gorgeous house, and it would afford us more room AND a source of income if we were able to rent out the bottom. It needs a little bit of updating, but it was a foreclosure and the price is SO right. So right in fact, that we could move on it today, but we're waiting. The bank has lowered the price twice in three months that we've had our eye on it, so we're waiting to see if they lower it again. So either we buy the house or we stay here and expand. Either way, we win.
On a side note, the trees here in upstate New York are about to take center stage. All the trees now have brilliant tinges of strawberry red, yellow, bright orange, and eggplant purple and when the sun hits them just right, it's like they come alive in a sparkling array of glistening light. It truly is one of life's little pleasures to go out your front door and have your breath taken away by the wonder that nature can create. In two weeks time, the colors will peak, the roads will be packed with leaf peepers, and I'll truly remember why it is that I love this part of the country so much.
And then, with a brisk October wind, it will all be gone.
It's good, though. Because watching your children jump into crisp fallen leaves is ANOTHER of life's little pleasures. There's just something about kissing a little nose that's red with cold, cheeks that are flush with the uninhibited abandon of childhood. I sit here and smile just thinking about their faces all wide eyed with laughter and love and mischievous fun.
I mean, truly. Is there anything better?
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
E Noi Dovrem Ahime, Morir....Morir....
"Il nome mio nessun sapra"
In English: "and my name no one will know"
What irony.
"Dilegua, notte! Tramontante, stella! Tramontante, stella! All'alba vincero...vincero...vincero!"
In English: "Disperse, oh night! Vanish, oh stars! Vanish, oh stars! At daybreak, I will win, I will win, I will win!"
I remember my Grandmother and my old Aunt Raimonda vividly...sitting in my Grandparents kitchen singing Italian songs...and this one always stood out. It's one of the first songs I learned completely in Italian, and even though I didn't know what I was singing, I had an inkling that there was something magical about it.
It wasn't until many years later, when I finally saw HIM sing it, and grew to learn what the words were and meant, that I realized exactly how magical it was.
Riposarse nella pace, Luciano.
In English: "and my name no one will know"
What irony.
"Dilegua, notte! Tramontante, stella! Tramontante, stella! All'alba vincero...vincero...vincero!"
In English: "Disperse, oh night! Vanish, oh stars! Vanish, oh stars! At daybreak, I will win, I will win, I will win!"
I remember my Grandmother and my old Aunt Raimonda vividly...sitting in my Grandparents kitchen singing Italian songs...and this one always stood out. It's one of the first songs I learned completely in Italian, and even though I didn't know what I was singing, I had an inkling that there was something magical about it.
It wasn't until many years later, when I finally saw HIM sing it, and grew to learn what the words were and meant, that I realized exactly how magical it was.
Riposarse nella pace, Luciano.
Monday, September 10, 2007
My Memory Has Never Been the Best...
You know, today when I was driving to the store, I had a really good idea for a blog, but I've since forgotten what it was.
Which begs the question:
Was it really a good idea?
Because, you know, if it was so good, shouldn't I be able to remember it?
I guess some synapses must have misfired today. Or I have one less wrinkle on the old brain. Or maybe, I shouldn't think while driving.
Which begs the question:
Was it really a good idea?
Because, you know, if it was so good, shouldn't I be able to remember it?
I guess some synapses must have misfired today. Or I have one less wrinkle on the old brain. Or maybe, I shouldn't think while driving.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Ghosts Appear and Fade Away
I hate introspection.
And hormones.
I hate those, too.
They both suck.
And having him in my head doesn't help either. He comes and goes. Comes and goes.
And hormones.
I hate those, too.
They both suck.
And having him in my head doesn't help either. He comes and goes. Comes and goes.
Monday, September 3, 2007
For Baby (For Gigi)
So, officially, in one day, I will be sending my not-quite-5-year-old daughter off to her first day of school. She has all of her supplies ready, her Tinkerbell backpack, her first day outfit all picked out. She's ready to go.
The problem is, someone is actually going to have to pry her from my arms Wednesday morning because there is no way in H-E double hockey sticks that I can let my baby get on that big bus. No way. She's too little. She's still just my baby girl....isn't she?
She was born on a Thursday, early in the morning, after much pushing and pain, and the moment I looked into those licorice eyes, it was all over for me. She was so beautiful, with that head of black hair and her tiny, grasping hands and baby feet. She slept and she ate and that's all she did for months, until slowly, surely, things started happening. Rolling, lifting, crawling, walking, talking. Emerging was a wisp of a girl with a very big personality. Now, nearly 5 years later, she's confident, intelligent, bossy, funny, stunningly beautiful, and so much like me it's actually scary.
I'm not ashamed to say that I don't want her to go. If I could keep her here with me forever, sheltered in her little pink room with her duckie blankie I would. I'm still not accepting that she's a school age child now, and my time as a parent to babies and toddlers is over. I guess I'm mourning a little bit. No one is completely dependent on me anymore. I don't have to feed or bathe or diaper or carry. No more soft lullabies, no more quiet moments sleeping in my arms, no more stroking her hair as she dreams in her bed.
She might cry and I won't be there to comfort her. That's my job. That's what I'm supposed to do. How do I get through the day knowing she might be sad without me and I have no way to help her be happy? How do I make it from hour to hour knowing the uncertainty she must feel?
I don't know. Maybe I'm underestimating my daughter. After all, she is one confident little chick. She'll probably be fine, playing and laughing and making friends while I'm home clutching her blankie and weeping into her pillow. Wednesday morning at 8:35 will NOT be one of my finer moments.
She's not just Daddy's rainbow, not only his pot of gold, or precious gem. She's all of those things to me too.
She's truly my bright and shining star.
I guess the house will be a bit darker during the days now.
Good luck, my girl. My little barrelina, my princess and the pea, my Gi-liscious.
You make your Mommy so proud.
The problem is, someone is actually going to have to pry her from my arms Wednesday morning because there is no way in H-E double hockey sticks that I can let my baby get on that big bus. No way. She's too little. She's still just my baby girl....isn't she?
She was born on a Thursday, early in the morning, after much pushing and pain, and the moment I looked into those licorice eyes, it was all over for me. She was so beautiful, with that head of black hair and her tiny, grasping hands and baby feet. She slept and she ate and that's all she did for months, until slowly, surely, things started happening. Rolling, lifting, crawling, walking, talking. Emerging was a wisp of a girl with a very big personality. Now, nearly 5 years later, she's confident, intelligent, bossy, funny, stunningly beautiful, and so much like me it's actually scary.
I'm not ashamed to say that I don't want her to go. If I could keep her here with me forever, sheltered in her little pink room with her duckie blankie I would. I'm still not accepting that she's a school age child now, and my time as a parent to babies and toddlers is over. I guess I'm mourning a little bit. No one is completely dependent on me anymore. I don't have to feed or bathe or diaper or carry. No more soft lullabies, no more quiet moments sleeping in my arms, no more stroking her hair as she dreams in her bed.
She might cry and I won't be there to comfort her. That's my job. That's what I'm supposed to do. How do I get through the day knowing she might be sad without me and I have no way to help her be happy? How do I make it from hour to hour knowing the uncertainty she must feel?
I don't know. Maybe I'm underestimating my daughter. After all, she is one confident little chick. She'll probably be fine, playing and laughing and making friends while I'm home clutching her blankie and weeping into her pillow. Wednesday morning at 8:35 will NOT be one of my finer moments.
She's not just Daddy's rainbow, not only his pot of gold, or precious gem. She's all of those things to me too.
She's truly my bright and shining star.
I guess the house will be a bit darker during the days now.
Good luck, my girl. My little barrelina, my princess and the pea, my Gi-liscious.
You make your Mommy so proud.
Friday, August 31, 2007
Might Be Getting Crazy, Might Be Wise...
It's official.
My mother has lost it.
We've spent the last two weeks touring houses, searching MLS listings, speaking tirelessly about real estate and the pros/cons of eat in kitchens and she hasn't found one single redeeming quality in one single house we've looked at. It's because she's not mentally ready to sell her house and move and retire and all that, but she needs to get mentally ready or she's going to drive me bat shit insane.
I feel for her. I really, REALLY do. I can't imagine what it's like to have to sell the house you built, the house you brought your children home to and raised them in. She's extremely attached to her things (and as evidence of such, she hasn't actually changed any decor in the house since 1968) and she doesn't actually WANT to do any of this. But she has to because that lovely, wonderful institution called Social Security--you know, the program that was supposed to take care of my mothers generation during their golden years--is barely giving her enough money to buy toilet paper with...and wiping your ass is a pretty important thing! (If FDR was alive today, I'd beat him with his own leg braces.) Along with her pension, and the fact that my Dad has a couple more years to work, they'll survive, but there's no way they can keep their house, sadly.
So, our solution is to go in on a house together. A mother/daughter type deal for a mother and a daughter. We even found a mother/daughter real estate team! No shitting! It's the type of residence that can benefit all of us. They can live peacefully knowing they'll be taken care of in their old age, for a meager amount of money, and we can finally get our butts into a bigger place. Works out for everyone, right?
Not.
Every house has a problem. Every house is unsatisfactory...for her. I've seen some doozies that I LOVED that would work out great for us, but in the spirit of compromise, they're overlooked because it wasn't right for EVERYONE. Okay, I can deal. But in the meantime, my house is going on the market in a couple of weeks and if it sells fast, I'm up the proverbial creek without a paddle in sight. It'll be back to renting for a bit until we can all settle on something, I guess. And renting sucks.
I've tried talking to her about it all, and I know she's not purposefully trying to be difficult, but if she doesn't get herself into the right head space soon, I'm going to abandon the whole thing, because frankly, babying my mother is having an adverse effect on me. The more I baby her, the more I want to curl up into my own fetal position and cry.
Don't get me wrong. I love her. I would do anything for her. I owe her my life, but holy, HOLY LORD, I guess I'm just not compassionate enough to get her through this. Thank God for my brother. He's the same kind of emotive-never-wants-change kind of person that she is and he's been good for her to talk to. I think it's because I'm too close to the whole thing. I'm so anxious for my OWN change, that I'm not seeing how anxious this change is making HER. Or at least, I'm not as soft about it.
Dios Mio.
I'm even speaking Spanish. It must be bad.
I know that something will work out eventually. I know that everything will fall into its own karmic place in it's own due time.
I just have to stop checking my watch.
My mother has lost it.
We've spent the last two weeks touring houses, searching MLS listings, speaking tirelessly about real estate and the pros/cons of eat in kitchens and she hasn't found one single redeeming quality in one single house we've looked at. It's because she's not mentally ready to sell her house and move and retire and all that, but she needs to get mentally ready or she's going to drive me bat shit insane.
I feel for her. I really, REALLY do. I can't imagine what it's like to have to sell the house you built, the house you brought your children home to and raised them in. She's extremely attached to her things (and as evidence of such, she hasn't actually changed any decor in the house since 1968) and she doesn't actually WANT to do any of this. But she has to because that lovely, wonderful institution called Social Security--you know, the program that was supposed to take care of my mothers generation during their golden years--is barely giving her enough money to buy toilet paper with...and wiping your ass is a pretty important thing! (If FDR was alive today, I'd beat him with his own leg braces.) Along with her pension, and the fact that my Dad has a couple more years to work, they'll survive, but there's no way they can keep their house, sadly.
So, our solution is to go in on a house together. A mother/daughter type deal for a mother and a daughter. We even found a mother/daughter real estate team! No shitting! It's the type of residence that can benefit all of us. They can live peacefully knowing they'll be taken care of in their old age, for a meager amount of money, and we can finally get our butts into a bigger place. Works out for everyone, right?
Not.
Every house has a problem. Every house is unsatisfactory...for her. I've seen some doozies that I LOVED that would work out great for us, but in the spirit of compromise, they're overlooked because it wasn't right for EVERYONE. Okay, I can deal. But in the meantime, my house is going on the market in a couple of weeks and if it sells fast, I'm up the proverbial creek without a paddle in sight. It'll be back to renting for a bit until we can all settle on something, I guess. And renting sucks.
I've tried talking to her about it all, and I know she's not purposefully trying to be difficult, but if she doesn't get herself into the right head space soon, I'm going to abandon the whole thing, because frankly, babying my mother is having an adverse effect on me. The more I baby her, the more I want to curl up into my own fetal position and cry.
Don't get me wrong. I love her. I would do anything for her. I owe her my life, but holy, HOLY LORD, I guess I'm just not compassionate enough to get her through this. Thank God for my brother. He's the same kind of emotive-never-wants-change kind of person that she is and he's been good for her to talk to. I think it's because I'm too close to the whole thing. I'm so anxious for my OWN change, that I'm not seeing how anxious this change is making HER. Or at least, I'm not as soft about it.
Dios Mio.
I'm even speaking Spanish. It must be bad.
I know that something will work out eventually. I know that everything will fall into its own karmic place in it's own due time.
I just have to stop checking my watch.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Standing On A Wave....Again
Off to the beach, chicos y chicas! Rhode Island, here we come. I need more sun and fun before the fall claims us.
That is all. Carry on as normal.
That is all. Carry on as normal.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
I Was Standing On A Wave...
HBO just canceled "John From Cincinnati".
In the words of my Australian friends, "This shits me to tears."
God forbid they invest in an intelligent, well written, perplexing, complicated hour of television when they can just keep showing drivel like Flight Of the Conchords. And that's not a jab at Bret and Jemaine....I like the boys much, but the show is just not that funny.
So, I guess we'll never find out who John REALLY was, what his purpose was, what happens with the Yost's, Barry, Ramon, Dickstein, Doc Smith (hottie), Cass, Link, Tina, and Stinkweed, The Chemist, Vietnam Joe, Steady Freddy and Palaka, Jerri and the Harelip, Kai, and my favorite character, Bill Jacks, played by the unmatched and unparalleled Ed O'Neill. (The man was genius in this show. Give him an Emmy, canceled or not.)
I'll just spend the next 5 years speculating, thank you very much.
So, that's it. I'm not investing myself in anymore new shows, because I keep getting screwed. I loved Deadwood....dead. Rome...leveled. Lucky Louie...not quite so lucky after all. John From Cincinnati.....wiped out. Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm a curse to potential HBO series everywhere.
At least I have Curb to look forward to now. It's what I like to call "Train Wreck TV" because you just KNOW it's going to get ugly, but you can't turn away. Larry David is the master of cringeworthy television.
So, sayonara John. Back to Cincinnati with thee. I cast you out.
I don't know Butchie instead.
In the words of my Australian friends, "This shits me to tears."
God forbid they invest in an intelligent, well written, perplexing, complicated hour of television when they can just keep showing drivel like Flight Of the Conchords. And that's not a jab at Bret and Jemaine....I like the boys much, but the show is just not that funny.
So, I guess we'll never find out who John REALLY was, what his purpose was, what happens with the Yost's, Barry, Ramon, Dickstein, Doc Smith (hottie), Cass, Link, Tina, and Stinkweed, The Chemist, Vietnam Joe, Steady Freddy and Palaka, Jerri and the Harelip, Kai, and my favorite character, Bill Jacks, played by the unmatched and unparalleled Ed O'Neill. (The man was genius in this show. Give him an Emmy, canceled or not.)
I'll just spend the next 5 years speculating, thank you very much.
So, that's it. I'm not investing myself in anymore new shows, because I keep getting screwed. I loved Deadwood....dead. Rome...leveled. Lucky Louie...not quite so lucky after all. John From Cincinnati.....wiped out. Maybe it's me. Maybe I'm a curse to potential HBO series everywhere.
At least I have Curb to look forward to now. It's what I like to call "Train Wreck TV" because you just KNOW it's going to get ugly, but you can't turn away. Larry David is the master of cringeworthy television.
So, sayonara John. Back to Cincinnati with thee. I cast you out.
I don't know Butchie instead.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
I'll Find You A Shelter
I. Need. To. Sleep. Soon.
Maybe if I keep repeating the mantra, my body will be ready to relax. Until then, I still just have that memory ricocheting around my brain...you know the one I mean.
How am I ever supposed to sleep again with that in my head? It's bad enough being a borderline insomniac, but now...now, the ante has been upped and whoever bet on me barely sleeping again for the next year is probably going to take the pot.
Every time I close my eyes, there he is.
Haunting.
Maybe if I keep repeating the mantra, my body will be ready to relax. Until then, I still just have that memory ricocheting around my brain...you know the one I mean.
How am I ever supposed to sleep again with that in my head? It's bad enough being a borderline insomniac, but now...now, the ante has been upped and whoever bet on me barely sleeping again for the next year is probably going to take the pot.
Every time I close my eyes, there he is.
Haunting.
Friday, August 10, 2007
The World Is Somehow Different...
Well, it's 11 AM, I've just rolled out of bed after a fitful sleep, I still have music resonating in my head, and the coffee is barely doing it for me.
I swear, this getting old shit isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Last night, Crowded House treated me to my dream setlist, as follows:
(dutifully typed into the Blackberry song by song by Mr. Annie!)
There Goes God
Something So Strong which Neil SOMEHOW segued into "The Only Living Boy In New York" --freakin' amazing
Say That Again --LOVE this one live. LOVE.
Transit Lounge --like it live, it retains it's groove and Liam doing the wailing is FAR more entertaining than that woman
Walking On the Spot --a request that Neil fulfilled and I'm SO glad he did. Easily one of the most GORGEOUS versions of this song I've ever heard. What a TREAT!
Chocolate Cake --a surprise, and a lot of fun. Neil segues this into "Born To Be Alive" and "We Are Family" He sings "I got all my brothers with me!"
People Are Like Suns --not one of my favorite album tracks, but gorgeous live, with an energy of it's own
Nobody Wants To --beautiful
Private Universe --jaw droppingly, devastatingly amazing. So much power behind this song, it was almost a religious experience
Don't Dream It's Over --Neil singing from the pit again on a crate and I'm thinking "Please don't fall Neil" as we all know he's not the most graceful person. An audience member joins in on keys and does an amazing job of it
Silent House --completely amazing again. I've fallen even more in love with the song since hearing it live
It was at this point in the show that someone yelled out a request for "Persuasion" *snort* and Neil pointed out that Mark had written a guitar part for it or something and encouraged Mark to sing the song. I'm excited now...we're getting Mark! So Mark ..or Marcus as Nick calls him...steps to the mike, strums the first chords and sings "You and I.." and stops claiming that's all he remembers. COP OUT! Neil turns to Liam and asks him if HE remembers it and Liam says that he totally ripped Persuasion off for one of his own songs, Neil encourages him to play it and he rips into an amazing acoustic of "Music Moves My Feet", accompanied by Neil.
Pour Le Monde --can't say enough about it live
Distant Sun --don't need to say anything about this one. we all know.
Weather With You --very rousing crowd sing a long, lots of fun
Encore
Locked Out --one of my favorite CH rockers, never fails to please
It's at this point that Neil tells us about his Dad and the music that he loved and listened to all his life and that he wants to play him a song. He decides he wants to call his Dad "A New York tradition" he dubs it and someone, I think it was John Walsh, dutifully dials the phone, but seems to have trouble. So Neil plays the song first, a beautiful old jazz number called "I Can't Get Started". I've heard it done by legends like Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday, but let me tell you, Neil gave them both a run for their money. He was flawless and his voice was beautiful. After, they finally get through to Richard Finn on the phone, only to get his answering machine. We all said "HI"
Four Seasons In One Day --gorgeousness personified
World Where You Live --easily the most fun song of the night, with a HUGE sing along, Neil having fun leading us
Encore 2
Don't Stop Now --I love this one live.
Fall At Your Feet --beautiful, but bittersweet as I knew this would be the last song of the night
The dynamic at the Beacon was SO different from Foxwoods because the audience was alive through the entire show. This was not a capacity crowd of so-so "hey now" fans, or a crowd that was there out of curiosity. I think it's safe to say that every person in that room was there for Crowded House and it showed in every song. We were on our feet most of the night, singing along to everything, basking in the moment, knowing this was New York's last stop for awhile so it was almost as though everyone wanted to hold on a little longer, even the band. Leaving too early would have been like breaking the spell that had been cast over us, so we all just sat back and enjoyed the magic for as long as we could. Corny, yes, but that's what it felt like.
H&P: Matt was in a t-shirt when I saw him pre-show, (he walked right up my aisle. so did Sharon!) and I'm fairly sure that's what he had on FOR the show. Mark in his usual dark suit and Nick in the same white suit from Foxwoods. Neil was in his dark suit, this time with the black sequin shirt underneath which I think is ravishing...it makes him sparkle! Hair was extremely sticky uppy.
After the show, I was standing outside and Matt walked right by me. I turned around and he was talking to a couple people, and trying to get a hold of someone on his cell. I shook his hand and thanked him for an amazing show. He thanked me back. What a doll. Pictures do him NO justice. He's tall and sweet and is simply the most approachable person I've ever met. He exudes friendliness.
Walked to the stage doors and waited a bit. Walked back and was talking with Cydsongs and some other Frenz, then walked back when the throng started to get excited. I saw Neil signing autographs and having his picture snapped, so I waited my turn, was able to shake his hand, tell him how absolutely amazing the show was, he signed my poster and smiled at me and thanked ME! Dream come true people. Dream come true. I've been waiting 20 years to shake that mans hand and the moment did not disappoint. He's so LITTLE, but so gorgeous, completely warm and approachable. I didn't feel an ounce of nervousness at all, just excitement. Alas, no picture, just a tingly hand and an autograph to relish forever!
Walked back up and Liam was sitting in the bus drivers seat with the window open, so I asked him to sign my poster as well, which he did, I told him how much I loved the CD and he thanked me. Very soft spoken, that one, and very handsome, beard and all.
Anyway, that's it.
For anyone ordering shows from Kufala, may I recommend this one? It will NOT disappoint.
And for everyone seeing CH after this, prepare yourselves. You're in for a treat.
Special thanks to cydsongs for hooking up with me, hanging out with me during Liam and skipping out on Pete Yorn with me. It was fantastic seeing you again!
I swear, this getting old shit isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Last night, Crowded House treated me to my dream setlist, as follows:
(dutifully typed into the Blackberry song by song by Mr. Annie!)
There Goes God
Something So Strong which Neil SOMEHOW segued into "The Only Living Boy In New York" --freakin' amazing
Say That Again --LOVE this one live. LOVE.
Transit Lounge --like it live, it retains it's groove and Liam doing the wailing is FAR more entertaining than that woman
Walking On the Spot --a request that Neil fulfilled and I'm SO glad he did. Easily one of the most GORGEOUS versions of this song I've ever heard. What a TREAT!
Chocolate Cake --a surprise, and a lot of fun. Neil segues this into "Born To Be Alive" and "We Are Family" He sings "I got all my brothers with me!"
People Are Like Suns --not one of my favorite album tracks, but gorgeous live, with an energy of it's own
Nobody Wants To --beautiful
Private Universe --jaw droppingly, devastatingly amazing. So much power behind this song, it was almost a religious experience
Don't Dream It's Over --Neil singing from the pit again on a crate and I'm thinking "Please don't fall Neil" as we all know he's not the most graceful person. An audience member joins in on keys and does an amazing job of it
Silent House --completely amazing again. I've fallen even more in love with the song since hearing it live
It was at this point in the show that someone yelled out a request for "Persuasion" *snort* and Neil pointed out that Mark had written a guitar part for it or something and encouraged Mark to sing the song. I'm excited now...we're getting Mark! So Mark ..or Marcus as Nick calls him...steps to the mike, strums the first chords and sings "You and I.." and stops claiming that's all he remembers. COP OUT! Neil turns to Liam and asks him if HE remembers it and Liam says that he totally ripped Persuasion off for one of his own songs, Neil encourages him to play it and he rips into an amazing acoustic of "Music Moves My Feet", accompanied by Neil.
Pour Le Monde --can't say enough about it live
Distant Sun --don't need to say anything about this one. we all know.
Weather With You --very rousing crowd sing a long, lots of fun
Encore
Locked Out --one of my favorite CH rockers, never fails to please
It's at this point that Neil tells us about his Dad and the music that he loved and listened to all his life and that he wants to play him a song. He decides he wants to call his Dad "A New York tradition" he dubs it and someone, I think it was John Walsh, dutifully dials the phone, but seems to have trouble. So Neil plays the song first, a beautiful old jazz number called "I Can't Get Started". I've heard it done by legends like Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday, but let me tell you, Neil gave them both a run for their money. He was flawless and his voice was beautiful. After, they finally get through to Richard Finn on the phone, only to get his answering machine. We all said "HI"
Four Seasons In One Day --gorgeousness personified
World Where You Live --easily the most fun song of the night, with a HUGE sing along, Neil having fun leading us
Encore 2
Don't Stop Now --I love this one live.
Fall At Your Feet --beautiful, but bittersweet as I knew this would be the last song of the night
The dynamic at the Beacon was SO different from Foxwoods because the audience was alive through the entire show. This was not a capacity crowd of so-so "hey now" fans, or a crowd that was there out of curiosity. I think it's safe to say that every person in that room was there for Crowded House and it showed in every song. We were on our feet most of the night, singing along to everything, basking in the moment, knowing this was New York's last stop for awhile so it was almost as though everyone wanted to hold on a little longer, even the band. Leaving too early would have been like breaking the spell that had been cast over us, so we all just sat back and enjoyed the magic for as long as we could. Corny, yes, but that's what it felt like.
H&P: Matt was in a t-shirt when I saw him pre-show, (he walked right up my aisle. so did Sharon!) and I'm fairly sure that's what he had on FOR the show. Mark in his usual dark suit and Nick in the same white suit from Foxwoods. Neil was in his dark suit, this time with the black sequin shirt underneath which I think is ravishing...it makes him sparkle! Hair was extremely sticky uppy.
After the show, I was standing outside and Matt walked right by me. I turned around and he was talking to a couple people, and trying to get a hold of someone on his cell. I shook his hand and thanked him for an amazing show. He thanked me back. What a doll. Pictures do him NO justice. He's tall and sweet and is simply the most approachable person I've ever met. He exudes friendliness.
Walked to the stage doors and waited a bit. Walked back and was talking with Cydsongs and some other Frenz, then walked back when the throng started to get excited. I saw Neil signing autographs and having his picture snapped, so I waited my turn, was able to shake his hand, tell him how absolutely amazing the show was, he signed my poster and smiled at me and thanked ME! Dream come true people. Dream come true. I've been waiting 20 years to shake that mans hand and the moment did not disappoint. He's so LITTLE, but so gorgeous, completely warm and approachable. I didn't feel an ounce of nervousness at all, just excitement. Alas, no picture, just a tingly hand and an autograph to relish forever!
Walked back up and Liam was sitting in the bus drivers seat with the window open, so I asked him to sign my poster as well, which he did, I told him how much I loved the CD and he thanked me. Very soft spoken, that one, and very handsome, beard and all.
Anyway, that's it.
For anyone ordering shows from Kufala, may I recommend this one? It will NOT disappoint.
And for everyone seeing CH after this, prepare yourselves. You're in for a treat.
Special thanks to cydsongs for hooking up with me, hanging out with me during Liam and skipping out on Pete Yorn with me. It was fantastic seeing you again!
Saturday, August 4, 2007
In the Nightclub Foxwoods
Breathe. Just breathe. In. Out. Compose yourself. Gather your thoughts. Attempt to write coherently.
That's me. 16 hours after the end of last nights Crowded House show and I'm still trying in earnest to find the person I was beforehand, but I think that person is gone. Transformed. Never be quite the same.
First, the details, in glorious Finn acronyms because I'm too lazy to type everything out. (If you can decipher the list, you're a true Finn fan!)
Setlist:
LO
WWYL
HTIM
NWT
RD
FAYF
DSN
PLM
DDIO
WYC
YATOTMMC
SH
DS
SSS
Encore:
PH
SCU
WWY
No second encore as the lights came up and the mean Foxwoods people kicked us out. I can't imagine there being a noise curfew in a casino....seems a bit oxymoronic to me, but who am I to say. Second encore was to be PU and BBHS, but sadly, they remain forever unplayed.
The wonderful John Walsh snagged me Matt's setlist, after I literally said "Please please please please please...!?" Nope, I have no shame. I wanted a setlist. Bad. My forever thanks, Mr. Walsh.
H&P: Matt was hidden behind the drums all night, so I never got a good gander at what he was wearing. I know, I'm bad. Mark was in a dark suit, very typical of Mark. Wonderful head of curly, get-yer-hands-in-it hair, great smile, great voice, great everything. Nick was donning a very snappy white suit which Neil made a cheeky remark about early on. Don't ask me to remember it. All I know is that I laughed, so it must have been funny. Of course, Neil probably could have been spitting blood a la Gene Simmons last night and I would have giggled at him. Yes, he's ALL THAT in person.
Speaking of Mr. Finn, he was absolutely ravishing in his dark suit with that to die for white shirt with red embroidery thing underneath....this one:
Um....yeah. **leers** Enough said about that. His hair started out all sticky uppy and continued on through the set getting flatter and flatter...probably sweatier and sweatier...ahem. Sorry. Hair looked great. A+ for Neil.
The dynamic in the room was a bit strange, being filled more by curious casino goers than actual die hards, but I will say, those of us that WERE there for the Crowdies more than made up for it. I was lucky enough to be in the front row...the very enthusiastic front row, which was backed by the very enthusiastic second row. Lots of dancing ensued. It was all good.
I'm going to C&P what I wrote on OTS from here on out, because I really can't expand on it too much. I said all I wanted to there, so there's not any reason for me to try to outdo myself (with the exception of the H&P, which I already covered here.)
***
According to my setlist, there was to be a second encore, which it seems the powers that be at the Fox Theater saw fit to jip us out of. We were to get Private Universe and BBHS. Oh well.
Neil did a wonderful little improv of Italian Plastic mid-set and told the story about how Paul had mixed up the genders in the song so everyone in Italy thought he was gay.
There was also a lot of talk about Fish and Chips, which Nick ordered quite early on in the show, and which showed up mid show (after Neil wondered aloud "Where are the fucking fish and chips?") complete on a rolling cart with table cloth. Nick ate a hunk of fish, Neil had some fries and shared with Elroy, and then Neil offered the plate to the audience, walking right along the front of the stage with the plate held out. What a generous man.
Anyway, I couldn't remember all the banter if I tried, but I know that I was laughing most of the night.
You can really see how these songs have come together since the St. Patricks webcast. Everything sounds tight and well played, but retains an air of spontaneity, freshness, and unpredictability, which I think is the Crowded House forte. Any song can go anywhere if they want it to and is always on the verge of doing so.
While I don't know anything technical about drumming, I can say with all certainty that Matt is a kick ass drummer, who is clearly having the time of his life. He adds power and punch one minute and restraint and quiet the next. His versatility, and his ability to do it so well, is surely what must have sold him. He's an amazing drummer and he fits. He fits perfectly.
Mark Hart was ON. Perfect harmony, perfect guitar, perfect keys. You don't get the full impact of what he does in the band until you see him run back and forth between instruments live. Consummate performer, very quiet. Told us a short story about hopping a train in Kansas when he was 12 and getting arrested for it. Egged on by Neil of course. Other than that, the man didn't say a word, but he doesn't have to. His presence is enough of a statement.
I've seen many people describe Nick as a "liquid" bass player and watching him play, you understand what they mean. He's just in the moment, he's relaxed, he's present, and he's happy. There is happiness permeating this band. No stress, no expectation, no pressure. Just a happiness to be playing together again, with a measure of humor, respect and enough fire to prove that they still kick ass.
Neil Finn is in amazing voice. He sounded like a 20 year old last night, hitting every high and every low effortlessly and flawlessly. His voice has such a gentle maturity to it now, but enough of a delicious edge so that every song he sings sounds like it was sculpted around his voice.
***
So, that's it. The show was amazing and I get to do it all over again on Thursday, with crappier seats. But it's good, it's all good. Having front row last night, having the opportunity to be that up close and personal was something that I'll never forget and very likely something that will never happen again.
Shame on me for doubting this comeback. Shame on me. I stand very humbly and very happily corrected.
That's me. 16 hours after the end of last nights Crowded House show and I'm still trying in earnest to find the person I was beforehand, but I think that person is gone. Transformed. Never be quite the same.
First, the details, in glorious Finn acronyms because I'm too lazy to type everything out. (If you can decipher the list, you're a true Finn fan!)
Setlist:
LO
WWYL
HTIM
NWT
RD
FAYF
DSN
PLM
DDIO
WYC
YATOTMMC
SH
DS
SSS
Encore:
PH
SCU
WWY
No second encore as the lights came up and the mean Foxwoods people kicked us out. I can't imagine there being a noise curfew in a casino....seems a bit oxymoronic to me, but who am I to say. Second encore was to be PU and BBHS, but sadly, they remain forever unplayed.
The wonderful John Walsh snagged me Matt's setlist, after I literally said "Please please please please please...!?" Nope, I have no shame. I wanted a setlist. Bad. My forever thanks, Mr. Walsh.
H&P: Matt was hidden behind the drums all night, so I never got a good gander at what he was wearing. I know, I'm bad. Mark was in a dark suit, very typical of Mark. Wonderful head of curly, get-yer-hands-in-it hair, great smile, great voice, great everything. Nick was donning a very snappy white suit which Neil made a cheeky remark about early on. Don't ask me to remember it. All I know is that I laughed, so it must have been funny. Of course, Neil probably could have been spitting blood a la Gene Simmons last night and I would have giggled at him. Yes, he's ALL THAT in person.
Speaking of Mr. Finn, he was absolutely ravishing in his dark suit with that to die for white shirt with red embroidery thing underneath....this one:
Um....yeah. **leers** Enough said about that. His hair started out all sticky uppy and continued on through the set getting flatter and flatter...probably sweatier and sweatier...ahem. Sorry. Hair looked great. A+ for Neil.
The dynamic in the room was a bit strange, being filled more by curious casino goers than actual die hards, but I will say, those of us that WERE there for the Crowdies more than made up for it. I was lucky enough to be in the front row...the very enthusiastic front row, which was backed by the very enthusiastic second row. Lots of dancing ensued. It was all good.
I'm going to C&P what I wrote on OTS from here on out, because I really can't expand on it too much. I said all I wanted to there, so there's not any reason for me to try to outdo myself (with the exception of the H&P, which I already covered here.)
***
According to my setlist, there was to be a second encore, which it seems the powers that be at the Fox Theater saw fit to jip us out of. We were to get Private Universe and BBHS. Oh well.
Neil did a wonderful little improv of Italian Plastic mid-set and told the story about how Paul had mixed up the genders in the song so everyone in Italy thought he was gay.
There was also a lot of talk about Fish and Chips, which Nick ordered quite early on in the show, and which showed up mid show (after Neil wondered aloud "Where are the fucking fish and chips?") complete on a rolling cart with table cloth. Nick ate a hunk of fish, Neil had some fries and shared with Elroy, and then Neil offered the plate to the audience, walking right along the front of the stage with the plate held out. What a generous man.
Anyway, I couldn't remember all the banter if I tried, but I know that I was laughing most of the night.
You can really see how these songs have come together since the St. Patricks webcast. Everything sounds tight and well played, but retains an air of spontaneity, freshness, and unpredictability, which I think is the Crowded House forte. Any song can go anywhere if they want it to and is always on the verge of doing so.
While I don't know anything technical about drumming, I can say with all certainty that Matt is a kick ass drummer, who is clearly having the time of his life. He adds power and punch one minute and restraint and quiet the next. His versatility, and his ability to do it so well, is surely what must have sold him. He's an amazing drummer and he fits. He fits perfectly.
Mark Hart was ON. Perfect harmony, perfect guitar, perfect keys. You don't get the full impact of what he does in the band until you see him run back and forth between instruments live. Consummate performer, very quiet. Told us a short story about hopping a train in Kansas when he was 12 and getting arrested for it. Egged on by Neil of course. Other than that, the man didn't say a word, but he doesn't have to. His presence is enough of a statement.
I've seen many people describe Nick as a "liquid" bass player and watching him play, you understand what they mean. He's just in the moment, he's relaxed, he's present, and he's happy. There is happiness permeating this band. No stress, no expectation, no pressure. Just a happiness to be playing together again, with a measure of humor, respect and enough fire to prove that they still kick ass.
Neil Finn is in amazing voice. He sounded like a 20 year old last night, hitting every high and every low effortlessly and flawlessly. His voice has such a gentle maturity to it now, but enough of a delicious edge so that every song he sings sounds like it was sculpted around his voice.
***
So, that's it. The show was amazing and I get to do it all over again on Thursday, with crappier seats. But it's good, it's all good. Having front row last night, having the opportunity to be that up close and personal was something that I'll never forget and very likely something that will never happen again.
Shame on me for doubting this comeback. Shame on me. I stand very humbly and very happily corrected.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
I've Been Tagged!
This hasn't happened since the playground in 5th grade! I'm so excited!
So, without further ado, my top 12 movies in no particular order.
1. Field Of Dreams--Kevin Costner, Ray Liotta, Baseball, and Burt Lancaster. Who can ask for anything more?
2. Raiders Of the Lost Ark--"Snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes?"
3. Yankee Doodle Dandy--What better piece of Americana is there? James Cagney was born to play the Yankee Doodle Boy.
4. A Fish Called Wanda--Simply one of the funniest movies ever. It's hard to steal the show when you're competing with John Cleese, Michael Palin and Jamie Lee Curtis, but somehow, Kevin Kline manages to do it. "DISAPPOINTED!"
5. The Godfather Part 1--I mean come on. Classic. What's better than Italians, food, guns, dead fish, and James Caan? Not much.
6. Goodfellas--"As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster." Me too Henry. Me too.
7. Young Frankenstein--Mel Brooks best. Hands down.
8. Yellow Beard--If you ever want 'pee in your pants' funny, watch this one. Graham Chapman and Madeline Kahn. 'Nuff said.
9. The Shawshank Redemption--One of those that you have to watch every time it's on. I had read the Stephen King novella "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption" YEARS ago, so to see it made into a movie, and such a good one at that, was a real treat.
10. American Psycho--Christian Bale is chilling (and hot) as the demented (or is he?) Patrick Bateman. I won't say it lived up to the book, but damn, this was a sick one. One of my faves.
11. Gone With the Wind--The ultimate love story set against a backdrop of horrible violence. Scarlet and Rhett try to figure each other out while the Civil War rages, and Scarlet TRULY finds out what she's made of. Gorgeous, historical, and classic all in one.
12. It's A Wonderful Life--Watch it every year, cry every year. Perfection.
Now that I finished, I thought of about 100 more that I could list, but I'll keep it to these 12 and reserve my right to change my mind.
That was fun!
So, without further ado, my top 12 movies in no particular order.
1. Field Of Dreams--Kevin Costner, Ray Liotta, Baseball, and Burt Lancaster. Who can ask for anything more?
2. Raiders Of the Lost Ark--"Snakes. Why'd it have to be snakes?"
3. Yankee Doodle Dandy--What better piece of Americana is there? James Cagney was born to play the Yankee Doodle Boy.
4. A Fish Called Wanda--Simply one of the funniest movies ever. It's hard to steal the show when you're competing with John Cleese, Michael Palin and Jamie Lee Curtis, but somehow, Kevin Kline manages to do it. "DISAPPOINTED!"
5. The Godfather Part 1--I mean come on. Classic. What's better than Italians, food, guns, dead fish, and James Caan? Not much.
6. Goodfellas--"As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster." Me too Henry. Me too.
7. Young Frankenstein--Mel Brooks best. Hands down.
8. Yellow Beard--If you ever want 'pee in your pants' funny, watch this one. Graham Chapman and Madeline Kahn. 'Nuff said.
9. The Shawshank Redemption--One of those that you have to watch every time it's on. I had read the Stephen King novella "Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption" YEARS ago, so to see it made into a movie, and such a good one at that, was a real treat.
10. American Psycho--Christian Bale is chilling (and hot) as the demented (or is he?) Patrick Bateman. I won't say it lived up to the book, but damn, this was a sick one. One of my faves.
11. Gone With the Wind--The ultimate love story set against a backdrop of horrible violence. Scarlet and Rhett try to figure each other out while the Civil War rages, and Scarlet TRULY finds out what she's made of. Gorgeous, historical, and classic all in one.
12. It's A Wonderful Life--Watch it every year, cry every year. Perfection.
Now that I finished, I thought of about 100 more that I could list, but I'll keep it to these 12 and reserve my right to change my mind.
That was fun!
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
I've Just Realized
That I'm going to see Crowded House on Friday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*SCREAM*
*SCREAM*
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Todays Web Log
Blog blog blog blog blog, blog blog blog blog blog.
Bloggity blog blog. Blogging, blogging and blogged.
Blog blog blog, bloggily blogging bloggy.
Bloggity blog blog. Blogging, blogging and blogged.
Blog blog blog, bloggily blogging bloggy.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Why Do I Kid Myself?
As usual, Friday the 13th has lived up to it's bad reputation.
I don't even know why I bother. *sigh*
And it wouldn't even be so bad if it wasn't all the same people all the time. You know, the ones that get to travel all over God's green earth in the first place?
I'm sorry. I'm bitter and a little bit sad. I was hoping...just this once...that my luck could change.
Wrong day to wish for that.
I don't even know why I bother. *sigh*
And it wouldn't even be so bad if it wasn't all the same people all the time. You know, the ones that get to travel all over God's green earth in the first place?
I'm sorry. I'm bitter and a little bit sad. I was hoping...just this once...that my luck could change.
Wrong day to wish for that.
Good Stars Surround Us
There were just so many good things today, so many things that make my entire body, mind, and spirit happy. Things that may be meaningless to others, but mean SO much to me.
First, there was a sense of accomplishment in getting my NAT status problems solved. I've been working on it for a month and a half now and seeing it resolve is extremely gratifying. It gave me this huge sense of accomplishment....a kind of superiority if you will. Not over anything living, just over my computer. It's good to look down on technology now and again.
There was also the CD...yes, THAT CD, the one that has been nagging me for a month now. After today, I'm just convinced that it was the context and the screwy song order, because once I blasted it today while I was in the kitchen, the whole damn thing just made sense, from beginning to end. Every song sounded perfect (except one. It's a real slow grower) and now I just want to listen to it over and over again.
A ticket offer from a friend. Looks and feels very promising and is uber exciting.
Brushed the dog to within an inch of his life, felt good enough to buy the kids a little toy each at the store, which made them happy and all lovey towards Mommy, which is always a good thing, cleaned the house, made nice with the hubby, bought some clothes, started getting ready for vacation (one more week! woot!) and thanks to my brother and his killer pool, I have a tan to die for already.
It's not often I have all around perfect days. But today was damn close.
First, there was a sense of accomplishment in getting my NAT status problems solved. I've been working on it for a month and a half now and seeing it resolve is extremely gratifying. It gave me this huge sense of accomplishment....a kind of superiority if you will. Not over anything living, just over my computer. It's good to look down on technology now and again.
There was also the CD...yes, THAT CD, the one that has been nagging me for a month now. After today, I'm just convinced that it was the context and the screwy song order, because once I blasted it today while I was in the kitchen, the whole damn thing just made sense, from beginning to end. Every song sounded perfect (except one. It's a real slow grower) and now I just want to listen to it over and over again.
A ticket offer from a friend. Looks and feels very promising and is uber exciting.
Brushed the dog to within an inch of his life, felt good enough to buy the kids a little toy each at the store, which made them happy and all lovey towards Mommy, which is always a good thing, cleaned the house, made nice with the hubby, bought some clothes, started getting ready for vacation (one more week! woot!) and thanks to my brother and his killer pool, I have a tan to die for already.
It's not often I have all around perfect days. But today was damn close.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Gathering Reams of Space and Time
My cousin and his wife and kids are visiting from Florida.
It's funny, but as soon as my brother and I get together with this certain cousin, we all turn into 12 year old kids, goofing around and feeling giddy and quoting a lot of old "had to be there" kind of jokes. My cousin is, by far, just one of the funniest people on the face of the Earth, but he's one of those blessed people that doesn't TRY to be funny. He just is.
Anyway, he's all grown up now like us, has a couple of kids that MY kids just adore. His daughter is seven and his son is four.....just like my two (only opposite). So, they're all getting along swimmingly, which is nice to see.
This cousin and his brother, and my brother and I all grew up together in the good old days. We lived right next door to each other, and spent every day together. Playing, riding bikes, catching frogs and turtles....summer was the best. There were long, hot days spent exploring. Sprinklers to run through. Fireflies to catch. Trees to climb. Even after they moved to Florida we stayed close. There were frequent visits and they were always here for Christmas and New Years, so it wasn't like we grew apart. It was just the opposite actually. The four of us were as close as could be. My other cousin is the same age as me, only a few months older, which is something he's always held over my head in good humor. I talk to him on the phone now and then, as he doesn't get to visit (health problems) and when we do, it's like he's sitting here in the room with me. Good stuff, that.
So, they'll be here for two weeks, in which time we have lots of fun things planned. It's good that all the kids are off from school now, so there's no pressure of having to be home for the bus and all that jazz. Just carefree summer days. I love this time of year anyway, but having them here is a bonus. Now, we'll kick back and watch our kids climb the trees, and catch the fireflies and frogs.
Hopefully, it's something that will bond them for life, just like it did us.
It's funny, but as soon as my brother and I get together with this certain cousin, we all turn into 12 year old kids, goofing around and feeling giddy and quoting a lot of old "had to be there" kind of jokes. My cousin is, by far, just one of the funniest people on the face of the Earth, but he's one of those blessed people that doesn't TRY to be funny. He just is.
Anyway, he's all grown up now like us, has a couple of kids that MY kids just adore. His daughter is seven and his son is four.....just like my two (only opposite). So, they're all getting along swimmingly, which is nice to see.
This cousin and his brother, and my brother and I all grew up together in the good old days. We lived right next door to each other, and spent every day together. Playing, riding bikes, catching frogs and turtles....summer was the best. There were long, hot days spent exploring. Sprinklers to run through. Fireflies to catch. Trees to climb. Even after they moved to Florida we stayed close. There were frequent visits and they were always here for Christmas and New Years, so it wasn't like we grew apart. It was just the opposite actually. The four of us were as close as could be. My other cousin is the same age as me, only a few months older, which is something he's always held over my head in good humor. I talk to him on the phone now and then, as he doesn't get to visit (health problems) and when we do, it's like he's sitting here in the room with me. Good stuff, that.
So, they'll be here for two weeks, in which time we have lots of fun things planned. It's good that all the kids are off from school now, so there's no pressure of having to be home for the bus and all that jazz. Just carefree summer days. I love this time of year anyway, but having them here is a bonus. Now, we'll kick back and watch our kids climb the trees, and catch the fireflies and frogs.
Hopefully, it's something that will bond them for life, just like it did us.
Friday, June 29, 2007
From the Deepest Well
So, is it so wrong to just once...ONCE....want to go on a long, aimless drive, destined for nowhere in particular, for no other reason than to just enjoy being?
Is it against reason to want 10 minutes to talk, uninterrupted, about anything?
I don't feel like being melon-collie, (actually, that made me smile, tee hee) but I am.
For the most part.
A little.
Do you have one of those songs (or several) that make you stop what you're doing, stare off into nothing and just think?
I just had one. And as usual, it was the same old thinking, about the same old thing, and the same old feelings, and the same old melon-collie (*snicker*) set in. Now, I want to listen to an entire playlist of melon-collie inducing songs.
Or maybe I just want a collie. Or melon. I think Cantaloupe is in season.
Is it against reason to want 10 minutes to talk, uninterrupted, about anything?
I don't feel like being melon-collie, (actually, that made me smile, tee hee) but I am.
For the most part.
A little.
Do you have one of those songs (or several) that make you stop what you're doing, stare off into nothing and just think?
I just had one. And as usual, it was the same old thinking, about the same old thing, and the same old feelings, and the same old melon-collie (*snicker*) set in. Now, I want to listen to an entire playlist of melon-collie inducing songs.
Or maybe I just want a collie. Or melon. I think Cantaloupe is in season.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Then the Mercury Was Ready To Go
A couple of posts ago, I made passing reference to my parents old 1972 Mercury Monterey. 1972 is the year I was born and they bought it because they needed more of a "family" type vehicle, what with the new little addition and all.
So, they purchased....a boat:
I typed "1972 Mercury Monterey" into Google Image search and lo and behold, a 1972 Mercury Monterey. Not just any 1972 Mercury Monterey, but the EXACT car my parents had.
Brown.
Brown must have been the happening color for cars back then.
The seats were a tan vinyl, bench seats front and back, so you literally had to climb over the seat to get from one to the other. I can fondly remember making that journey many a time during our travels, much to the annoyance of my parents. I remember the license plate number too. 988KIG. And it wasn't the nice spiffy New York plates we have now. They were the ugly old yellow and blue ones.
The first time we traveled to Florida to visit relatives, in 1976, I remember my father put a big board across the back seat so my brother and I could spread out our sleeping bags and take naps. No seatbelts required. Don't worry about sudden stops, or you know, safety or anything. It really does boggle the mind how unsafe vehicular travel for kids was a mere 30 years ago. By todays standards, that's akin to murder, for crying out loud. It's a wonder we were never hurt.
By far, the best part of that car was the 8 track player my father installed. It was in that car my love for music was truly cultivated. Where it developed and matured. I can tell you the exact cutoff point of every single John Denver 8 track, the exact point where the song would stop and the tape would change tracks. What technology, eh?
We had that car until 1984, when they finally traded it in for a Ford Crown Victoria. Another boat.
Now, 23 years later, my parents still have a penchant for Mercury's. They tool around in a semi-boat like Mercury Marquis now.
And yes, it's brown.
So, they purchased....a boat:
I typed "1972 Mercury Monterey" into Google Image search and lo and behold, a 1972 Mercury Monterey. Not just any 1972 Mercury Monterey, but the EXACT car my parents had.
Brown.
Brown must have been the happening color for cars back then.
The seats were a tan vinyl, bench seats front and back, so you literally had to climb over the seat to get from one to the other. I can fondly remember making that journey many a time during our travels, much to the annoyance of my parents. I remember the license plate number too. 988KIG. And it wasn't the nice spiffy New York plates we have now. They were the ugly old yellow and blue ones.
The first time we traveled to Florida to visit relatives, in 1976, I remember my father put a big board across the back seat so my brother and I could spread out our sleeping bags and take naps. No seatbelts required. Don't worry about sudden stops, or you know, safety or anything. It really does boggle the mind how unsafe vehicular travel for kids was a mere 30 years ago. By todays standards, that's akin to murder, for crying out loud. It's a wonder we were never hurt.
By far, the best part of that car was the 8 track player my father installed. It was in that car my love for music was truly cultivated. Where it developed and matured. I can tell you the exact cutoff point of every single John Denver 8 track, the exact point where the song would stop and the tape would change tracks. What technology, eh?
We had that car until 1984, when they finally traded it in for a Ford Crown Victoria. Another boat.
Now, 23 years later, my parents still have a penchant for Mercury's. They tool around in a semi-boat like Mercury Marquis now.
And yes, it's brown.
Friday, June 8, 2007
That's Alright, Mama
My daughter loves Elvis Presley. Loves. Extreme love. I blame her Grandmother for getting the ball rolling, because she provided the first taste of music. (My Mom is a true Elvis fangirl, but thankfully, not one of the psychotic ones) Then, she told my daughter that Elvis was her boyfriend before she met Pa. (I take back the psychotic remark)
My brother and I were raised on Elvis. Elvis and The Beatles. But it's Elvis I remember blaring from the old cabinet stereo in my parents dining room, the 45's dropping one after another..."I Want You, I Need You, I Love You", "A Fool Such As I", "Jailhouse Rock", "Love Me Tender", "A Mess Of Blues", "Anyway You Want Me", "Hound Dog", just to put a drop in the bucket. The 8 tracks were a given in our old Mercury Monterey, and Elvis' Christmas Album was a staple from Thanksgiving through New Years. (Only Elvis fans think a depressing song like "Mama Liked the Roses" is a classic Christmas tune)
So it didn't exactly surprise me that my daughter was loving Elvis as much as I did as a kid.
Thinking that this was a cute thing, and glad that she was showing an interest in good music, I let her hear the King Creole soundtrack, which admittedly, is one of my very favorite soundtrack albums EVER. Now and then I'd play it in the car, or it would shuffle up on my Zen. It started with Lover Doll, which she called "Lava Da". (Can't blame the kid, really. Elvis wasn't exactly known for his sterling pronunciation, coupled with his Mississippi accent. It's a wonder some of that early stuff is decipherable as English.)
Then, one night I heard her in her room singing, "If you're looking for trouble da da da da da you came to the right place da da da da da..." , the "da da's" obviously serving as a 4 year olds replication of electric guitar.
Then, every time we got in the car, she asked for Elvis. Talk about taking a good thing and beating it to a bloody pulp.
She seemed to slack off for awhile, thankfully, because I can get sick of the same thing over and over pretty quickly (aside from anything with the name "Finn" attached).
Then, the other day in a restaurant "I Want You, I Need You, I Love You" came on.
"ELVIS!"
She shreiked. Just like the squealing, fainting girls at his concerts.
It became obvious to me then. She's an Elvis fangirl, just like her Grandmother.
I told her that Elvis is NOT alive and well and living in Viva Las Vegas. I told her that under no circumstances will she get married by a preacher dressed as 1976 fat Elvis, complete with pork chop sideburns and sparkly jumpsuit and cape (although she has expressed an interest in being Fat Elvis for Halloween, since it involves all things sparkly and capey, and frankly, I think this would be funny as hell!).
I told her she will never see Elvis Presley walk out of a 7-11. *grin*
I also told her she had very good taste in music.
Just like her Mama.
My brother and I were raised on Elvis. Elvis and The Beatles. But it's Elvis I remember blaring from the old cabinet stereo in my parents dining room, the 45's dropping one after another..."I Want You, I Need You, I Love You", "A Fool Such As I", "Jailhouse Rock", "Love Me Tender", "A Mess Of Blues", "Anyway You Want Me", "Hound Dog", just to put a drop in the bucket. The 8 tracks were a given in our old Mercury Monterey, and Elvis' Christmas Album was a staple from Thanksgiving through New Years. (Only Elvis fans think a depressing song like "Mama Liked the Roses" is a classic Christmas tune)
So it didn't exactly surprise me that my daughter was loving Elvis as much as I did as a kid.
Thinking that this was a cute thing, and glad that she was showing an interest in good music, I let her hear the King Creole soundtrack, which admittedly, is one of my very favorite soundtrack albums EVER. Now and then I'd play it in the car, or it would shuffle up on my Zen. It started with Lover Doll, which she called "Lava Da". (Can't blame the kid, really. Elvis wasn't exactly known for his sterling pronunciation, coupled with his Mississippi accent. It's a wonder some of that early stuff is decipherable as English.)
Then, one night I heard her in her room singing, "If you're looking for trouble da da da da da you came to the right place da da da da da..." , the "da da's" obviously serving as a 4 year olds replication of electric guitar.
Then, every time we got in the car, she asked for Elvis. Talk about taking a good thing and beating it to a bloody pulp.
She seemed to slack off for awhile, thankfully, because I can get sick of the same thing over and over pretty quickly (aside from anything with the name "Finn" attached).
Then, the other day in a restaurant "I Want You, I Need You, I Love You" came on.
"ELVIS!"
She shreiked. Just like the squealing, fainting girls at his concerts.
It became obvious to me then. She's an Elvis fangirl, just like her Grandmother.
I told her that Elvis is NOT alive and well and living in Viva Las Vegas. I told her that under no circumstances will she get married by a preacher dressed as 1976 fat Elvis, complete with pork chop sideburns and sparkly jumpsuit and cape (although she has expressed an interest in being Fat Elvis for Halloween, since it involves all things sparkly and capey, and frankly, I think this would be funny as hell!).
I told her she will never see Elvis Presley walk out of a 7-11. *grin*
I also told her she had very good taste in music.
Just like her Mama.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Play It Again, Neil
England cries and she plays for him
With chords entwined like a requiem
And though it's springtime and color is new
In Regents Park I will mourn for you
And I must be wise somehow
'Cause my heart's been broken down
It's so far to fall
And so hard to climb
Nothing sadder I know
Than the passing of time
Um....wow.
With chords entwined like a requiem
And though it's springtime and color is new
In Regents Park I will mourn for you
And I must be wise somehow
'Cause my heart's been broken down
It's so far to fall
And so hard to climb
Nothing sadder I know
Than the passing of time
Um....wow.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Fly Or Fall...It's My Call
So, I got my new business cards in the mail on Saturday and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. I mean, the cards are nice enough, nicely printed, attractive, professional looking. It's what's ON the cards that makes me nervous. My name. My business. My responsibility. It's more daunting than I thought it would be.
I keep looking at them and wondering, "Am I really good enough for this?"
And now and then, I have a moment of delicious clarity and think, "Damn right I am."
I'm not sure why it is that I'm so tentative about success, why I balk at the thought of actually doing something for myself that I love, that could be a potential moneymaker and at the same time, allow me to do something that I really love to do.
I think it has a lot to do with fact that I was never encouraged to think outside the box. Status quo has always been good enough for my family, and that's the way I was raised. (I have a fantastic family, but they've never been.....risk takers, I guess is the way to put it)
Status Quo. (not the 80's band)
Frank has always been the risk taker in our relationship, and it's his encouragement that made me finally get up off my ass and begin this process. He wants better for me, and he knows that I can do this. Plus, he wants me to be a HUGE success so he can quit his job working for the man and run the "family business". He makes me laugh. He has more faith in me than I ever will.
I also have to admit that another reason I'm taking this chance is because I can't stand the thought of having to go back to work in September. I can't do retail anymore, I just can't. And I don't want to go back into kitchen sales. Too much aggravation in my life that I just don't need or want. I want something that is my own, that belongs to me and that *I* make successful.
This might be it. I think I can do it.
I keep looking at them and wondering, "Am I really good enough for this?"
And now and then, I have a moment of delicious clarity and think, "Damn right I am."
I'm not sure why it is that I'm so tentative about success, why I balk at the thought of actually doing something for myself that I love, that could be a potential moneymaker and at the same time, allow me to do something that I really love to do.
I think it has a lot to do with fact that I was never encouraged to think outside the box. Status quo has always been good enough for my family, and that's the way I was raised. (I have a fantastic family, but they've never been.....risk takers, I guess is the way to put it)
Status Quo. (not the 80's band)
Frank has always been the risk taker in our relationship, and it's his encouragement that made me finally get up off my ass and begin this process. He wants better for me, and he knows that I can do this. Plus, he wants me to be a HUGE success so he can quit his job working for the man and run the "family business". He makes me laugh. He has more faith in me than I ever will.
I also have to admit that another reason I'm taking this chance is because I can't stand the thought of having to go back to work in September. I can't do retail anymore, I just can't. And I don't want to go back into kitchen sales. Too much aggravation in my life that I just don't need or want. I want something that is my own, that belongs to me and that *I* make successful.
This might be it. I think I can do it.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Eating Crow
I take it back. I take it all back. I'll blame it on PMS, a bad mood, the wrong atmosphere, undesirable company, bad acoustics, ratty speakers, temporary insanity.....
So, my sincerest apologies to he who was (supposedly) christened Cornelius. I don't know how I ever doubted you.
*spoons in another mouthful of feathers*
So, my sincerest apologies to he who was (supposedly) christened Cornelius. I don't know how I ever doubted you.
*spoons in another mouthful of feathers*
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Bad Dreams and Other Stuff
My son has been having bad dreams lately. It's not unusual for him, but this cycle seems particularly worse than others being that he's been up nearly every night for a week crying for me. He's such a sensitive, worrisome little boy that he makes *me* worry for *him*.
The first couple were about being kidnapped. He dreamed that he was playing on our front lawn and that a man pulled up in a white truck so he laid down flat on the grass and tried not to be seen. But the man tried to grab him anyway, so my son kicked him in the (as we Italians like to say) ga-gootz.
You should have seen my son telling me about this dream. Despite his heightened mental state, he tried to remember his diplomacy and only pointed to his privates saying, "I kicked him here, Mom."
I told him he did exactly the right thing, even though it was only a dream.
This dream, or another slightly different version, went on for 2 nights and the last two nights have been about being robbed. He was a bit too out of it during the night to tell me the particulars of the last ones, but I get the gist. The victim of said robbery has twice been his Great Grandpa, who is 90 years old and I'm sure someone that my son, even at his young age, can identify as a "victim" type because of his advanced age. The hero of both dreams has been his Pa, my father, who at 63 years old has the looks, body, physique, and attitude of a man half his age (I hope that didn't sound reverse Oedipal, not meant to be!) and definitely someone my son looks up to as the definition of strong and safe.
The robbery dreams didn't seem to bother him *as much* as the others, but enough to wake him up during the night calling for me. Mommy's work is never done.
I know where the dreams come from. The kidnapping ones stem from seeing news coverage of little Madeline, the baby that was snatched from a hotel room while her negligent parents were out having a good old time. The robbery ones come from an incident here by us recently where a local Old Navy store was robbed at gunpoint.
The whole situation makes me wonder if I am too honest with my kids, if I allow them to see too much. I don't always turn off the news when they're in the room because I believe that sheltering them makes them naive. But I have to wonder, in my quest to keep my children aware of how our world can work, if I'm letting them know too much. Maybe I *should* shelter them a bit more from the harsh realities of life. Maybe I *should* switch the channel when they come into the room. I don't want them to grow up distrustful and leery, I just want them to know what's going on and be smart.
But when my poor son is waking up with bad dreams, I have to wonder if what I'm doing is right.
Anyway, other than that, just wanted to mention that I saw the new Crowded House video for the first release "Don't Stop Now". Brilliant little video, great song and may I just say that Neil Finn looks...HUMMINA.
The first couple were about being kidnapped. He dreamed that he was playing on our front lawn and that a man pulled up in a white truck so he laid down flat on the grass and tried not to be seen. But the man tried to grab him anyway, so my son kicked him in the (as we Italians like to say) ga-gootz.
You should have seen my son telling me about this dream. Despite his heightened mental state, he tried to remember his diplomacy and only pointed to his privates saying, "I kicked him here, Mom."
I told him he did exactly the right thing, even though it was only a dream.
This dream, or another slightly different version, went on for 2 nights and the last two nights have been about being robbed. He was a bit too out of it during the night to tell me the particulars of the last ones, but I get the gist. The victim of said robbery has twice been his Great Grandpa, who is 90 years old and I'm sure someone that my son, even at his young age, can identify as a "victim" type because of his advanced age. The hero of both dreams has been his Pa, my father, who at 63 years old has the looks, body, physique, and attitude of a man half his age (I hope that didn't sound reverse Oedipal, not meant to be!) and definitely someone my son looks up to as the definition of strong and safe.
The robbery dreams didn't seem to bother him *as much* as the others, but enough to wake him up during the night calling for me. Mommy's work is never done.
I know where the dreams come from. The kidnapping ones stem from seeing news coverage of little Madeline, the baby that was snatched from a hotel room while her negligent parents were out having a good old time. The robbery ones come from an incident here by us recently where a local Old Navy store was robbed at gunpoint.
The whole situation makes me wonder if I am too honest with my kids, if I allow them to see too much. I don't always turn off the news when they're in the room because I believe that sheltering them makes them naive. But I have to wonder, in my quest to keep my children aware of how our world can work, if I'm letting them know too much. Maybe I *should* shelter them a bit more from the harsh realities of life. Maybe I *should* switch the channel when they come into the room. I don't want them to grow up distrustful and leery, I just want them to know what's going on and be smart.
But when my poor son is waking up with bad dreams, I have to wonder if what I'm doing is right.
Anyway, other than that, just wanted to mention that I saw the new Crowded House video for the first release "Don't Stop Now". Brilliant little video, great song and may I just say that Neil Finn looks...HUMMINA.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
O.M.G.
Dear God, I'm loathe to say how much this sucks so far. Sucks. Serious suckage. Cringeworthy suckage.
I CANNOT be thinking this way, but ..but....but....
blech blah
I CANNOT be thinking this way, but ..but....but....
blech blah
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Self Indulgent Stuff
Borrowing this from my friend Lisa's blog. Thought it would be fun.
YOU ARE FEELING RANDY. LIST TWO SONGS YOU PLAY TO GET IN THE MOOD:
1. You Can Touch-Crowded House
2. Stand Up (Kick Love Into Motion)-Def Leppard
MAKE UP THREE CREATIVE NAMES FOR A NEW ROCK BAND:
1. The Hissy Fits
2. Mild Entrophy
3. Linoleum Chicklet
LIST FOUR SENTENCES RELATING TO MUSIC THAT YOU’VE NEVER SAID BEFORE:
1. Disco is SO cool.
2. Neil Diamond is the best!
3. Nah, I really don't want to listen to Neil Finn.
4. Let's Bust A Move!
LIST FIVE SONG TITLES THAT DESCRIBE HOW YOU’VE FELT THIS WEEK:
1. Manic Monday-The Bangles
2. Patience-Guns N Roses
3. Oblivious-Aztec Camera
4. All Apologies-Nirvana
5. Looking For Space-John Denver
IMAGINE YOU’RE HAVING THE IDEAL PERFECT DAY. WHAT SIX THINGS WOULD YOU BE DOING AND WHAT SOUNDTRACK WOULD UNDERSCORE THE ACTIVITY?
1 sitting at the beach (underscored by Together Alone)
2. eating an Awesome dinner (underscored by some nice Jerry Vale)
3. playing with my kids (underscored by John Denver's Farewell Andromeda)
4. spending time with hubby (underscored by Everyone Is Here)
5. spending some computer time chatting w/friends (underscored by Make Believe by Weezer)
6. enjoying an Iced Caramel Macchiato while chilling out (throw on some Beatles here)
CONGRATULATIONS! YOU GET TO GO BACK IN TIME AND ENSURE THAT SEVEN SONGS
WERE NEVER WRITTEN, THUS SPARING HUMANITY FROM EVER HAVING TO HEAR
THEM. WHAT WOULD GET THE AXE?
1. Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo-Rick Derringer (Die Hoochie Koo! Die!)
2. I'm Too Sexy-Right Said Fred (No, you weren't too sexy actually)
3. Anything by Neil Diamond (seriously...puke)
4. anything by Steve Miller (so bad even his name makes me cringe)
5. Blinded By the Light-the Bruce Springsteen AND the Manfred Mann version (curses to Bruce for writing this one)
6. the entire Metallica "St. Anger" album (OMG. What a horrible downfall)
7. Disco Duck by Rick Dees (obviously he was on Heroin when he wrote this)
TOO MANY MUSICIANS DIE PREMATURELY. LIST EIGHT THAT YOU MISS AND FEEL WOULD HAVE WENT ON TO EVEN MORE MUSICAL GREATNESS:
1. Kurt Cobain
2. John Denver
3. John Lennon
4. Paul Hester
5. Richie Valens
6. Jimi Hendrix
7. Randy Rhodes
8. Frank Zappa
STICK WITH ME, WE’RE ALMOST DONE. LIST THE TOP NINE ARTISTS CURRENTLY IN HEAVIEST ROTATION ON YOUR PLAYLIST:
1. Neil Finn
2. Crowded House
3. Weezer
4. Roddy Frame
5. White Stripes
6. The Beatles
7. Def Leppard
8. Split Enz
9. Missy Higgins
FINALLY! EVERYONE HAS SONGS THEY RELATE TO. LIST 10 THAT ARE PERSONAL TO YOU:
1. My Legs Are Gone-Crowded House
2. I Want You I Need You I Love You-Elvis Presley
3. Looking For Space-John Denver
4. Faster Than Light-Neil Finn
5. Collide-Howie Day
6. It's Only Love-The Beatles
7. The Flame-Cheap Trick
8. To Make You Feel My Love-Garth Brooks
9. Won't Give In-Finn Brothers
10.Waiting-Green Day
YOU ARE FEELING RANDY. LIST TWO SONGS YOU PLAY TO GET IN THE MOOD:
1. You Can Touch-Crowded House
2. Stand Up (Kick Love Into Motion)-Def Leppard
MAKE UP THREE CREATIVE NAMES FOR A NEW ROCK BAND:
1. The Hissy Fits
2. Mild Entrophy
3. Linoleum Chicklet
LIST FOUR SENTENCES RELATING TO MUSIC THAT YOU’VE NEVER SAID BEFORE:
1. Disco is SO cool.
2. Neil Diamond is the best!
3. Nah, I really don't want to listen to Neil Finn.
4. Let's Bust A Move!
LIST FIVE SONG TITLES THAT DESCRIBE HOW YOU’VE FELT THIS WEEK:
1. Manic Monday-The Bangles
2. Patience-Guns N Roses
3. Oblivious-Aztec Camera
4. All Apologies-Nirvana
5. Looking For Space-John Denver
IMAGINE YOU’RE HAVING THE IDEAL PERFECT DAY. WHAT SIX THINGS WOULD YOU BE DOING AND WHAT SOUNDTRACK WOULD UNDERSCORE THE ACTIVITY?
1 sitting at the beach (underscored by Together Alone)
2. eating an Awesome dinner (underscored by some nice Jerry Vale)
3. playing with my kids (underscored by John Denver's Farewell Andromeda)
4. spending time with hubby (underscored by Everyone Is Here)
5. spending some computer time chatting w/friends (underscored by Make Believe by Weezer)
6. enjoying an Iced Caramel Macchiato while chilling out (throw on some Beatles here)
CONGRATULATIONS! YOU GET TO GO BACK IN TIME AND ENSURE THAT SEVEN SONGS
WERE NEVER WRITTEN, THUS SPARING HUMANITY FROM EVER HAVING TO HEAR
THEM. WHAT WOULD GET THE AXE?
1. Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo-Rick Derringer (Die Hoochie Koo! Die!)
2. I'm Too Sexy-Right Said Fred (No, you weren't too sexy actually)
3. Anything by Neil Diamond (seriously...puke)
4. anything by Steve Miller (so bad even his name makes me cringe)
5. Blinded By the Light-the Bruce Springsteen AND the Manfred Mann version (curses to Bruce for writing this one)
6. the entire Metallica "St. Anger" album (OMG. What a horrible downfall)
7. Disco Duck by Rick Dees (obviously he was on Heroin when he wrote this)
TOO MANY MUSICIANS DIE PREMATURELY. LIST EIGHT THAT YOU MISS AND FEEL WOULD HAVE WENT ON TO EVEN MORE MUSICAL GREATNESS:
1. Kurt Cobain
2. John Denver
3. John Lennon
4. Paul Hester
5. Richie Valens
6. Jimi Hendrix
7. Randy Rhodes
8. Frank Zappa
STICK WITH ME, WE’RE ALMOST DONE. LIST THE TOP NINE ARTISTS CURRENTLY IN HEAVIEST ROTATION ON YOUR PLAYLIST:
1. Neil Finn
2. Crowded House
3. Weezer
4. Roddy Frame
5. White Stripes
6. The Beatles
7. Def Leppard
8. Split Enz
9. Missy Higgins
FINALLY! EVERYONE HAS SONGS THEY RELATE TO. LIST 10 THAT ARE PERSONAL TO YOU:
1. My Legs Are Gone-Crowded House
2. I Want You I Need You I Love You-Elvis Presley
3. Looking For Space-John Denver
4. Faster Than Light-Neil Finn
5. Collide-Howie Day
6. It's Only Love-The Beatles
7. The Flame-Cheap Trick
8. To Make You Feel My Love-Garth Brooks
9. Won't Give In-Finn Brothers
10.Waiting-Green Day
Monday, May 21, 2007
Birthdays
Yesterday was my Mothers 65th birthday. *Random fact* My mother is 30 years older than me and I am 30 years older than my daughter. In all, there is 60 years separating 3 generations of women. I'll turn 35 this year, my daughter, 5. It wasn't planned that way, but it's cool, nonetheless.
We had a nice party for her at my brothers house. He has the happening house now, great location, gorgeous dining room, in ground pool (although too early to use it) the works. I'm glad to see them so happy and settled and the kids thriving and doing so well. Does my heart good.
Anyway, the party turned out nice. The food was fantastic if I do say so myself. Sometimes, I amaze even myself that my food always comes out as good as it does. I made Penne Alla Vodka, a relatively simple dish, but I rocked it up with some nice Proscuitto in the sauce. Also whipped up some Broccoli Rabe and sausage, which for me, is what I could easily live on the rest of my life and never grow tired of it.
I don't mind cooking to help people out. My brother and sister in law are at best, mediocre cooks. The last time we were there for a barbeque, they beat some poor, helpless chicken into submission. I try to give as many helpful hints as I can when they cook, but I don't want to seem butt-in'y, so mostly I just watch and cringe. That chicken was barbequed to within an inch of MY life. Good thing they had lots of soda and beer to swallow it with or I'm not sure I could have choked it down.
Anyway, back on topic, my Mother loved her gifts (got her an Italian cookbook, Giada DiLaurentis' Everyday Italian and my husband happily scanned the book for pictures--lecherous little shit--and an Elvis DVD, right up her alley) loved the dinner, loved her cake, cried some of those Grandma tears when she saw all the homemade cards the kids made her. She deserves it, all of it. She's been a loving and wonderful mother to me and I can't ask for a better "Grammy" for my kids. They adore her. So do I.
So, in a couple months, I'll be turning 35 and a couple months after that, my daughter will turn 5. The 30 year cycle continues and flourishes. Hopefully, I'll have a 65 party someday, and my daughter will cook for me (or not. I've told her she doesn't have to learn to cook. She can do whatever she wants to, although, she's too much like me for me to believe she WON'T cook) and my mother, at the ripe old age of 95, will celebrate with us too.
One can only hope.
We had a nice party for her at my brothers house. He has the happening house now, great location, gorgeous dining room, in ground pool (although too early to use it) the works. I'm glad to see them so happy and settled and the kids thriving and doing so well. Does my heart good.
Anyway, the party turned out nice. The food was fantastic if I do say so myself. Sometimes, I amaze even myself that my food always comes out as good as it does. I made Penne Alla Vodka, a relatively simple dish, but I rocked it up with some nice Proscuitto in the sauce. Also whipped up some Broccoli Rabe and sausage, which for me, is what I could easily live on the rest of my life and never grow tired of it.
I don't mind cooking to help people out. My brother and sister in law are at best, mediocre cooks. The last time we were there for a barbeque, they beat some poor, helpless chicken into submission. I try to give as many helpful hints as I can when they cook, but I don't want to seem butt-in'y, so mostly I just watch and cringe. That chicken was barbequed to within an inch of MY life. Good thing they had lots of soda and beer to swallow it with or I'm not sure I could have choked it down.
Anyway, back on topic, my Mother loved her gifts (got her an Italian cookbook, Giada DiLaurentis' Everyday Italian and my husband happily scanned the book for pictures--lecherous little shit--and an Elvis DVD, right up her alley) loved the dinner, loved her cake, cried some of those Grandma tears when she saw all the homemade cards the kids made her. She deserves it, all of it. She's been a loving and wonderful mother to me and I can't ask for a better "Grammy" for my kids. They adore her. So do I.
So, in a couple months, I'll be turning 35 and a couple months after that, my daughter will turn 5. The 30 year cycle continues and flourishes. Hopefully, I'll have a 65 party someday, and my daughter will cook for me (or not. I've told her she doesn't have to learn to cook. She can do whatever she wants to, although, she's too much like me for me to believe she WON'T cook) and my mother, at the ripe old age of 95, will celebrate with us too.
One can only hope.
Friday, May 18, 2007
Tim Finn at Joe's Pub, NYC-5-12-07
**I posted this elsewhere, but am bringing it here for posterity....and 'cause I want to.**
I said this on one of the forums, but I'm going to repeat it here. If you ever, in your life, get the chance to see Tim Finn, especially if it's an acoustic gig, take it. See it. Seize the day. It's worth every penny you spend and every second of your time.
I couldn't have asked for a better seat, which I owe to my friend Jodi. It was so great to meet you my friend. You're just as wonderful as I thought you'd be!
Tim was literally hovering above me, mere inches from me, so close that a few times I thought I'd be sweat on (and believe me, the man can sweat!). There's nothing like craning your neck up to find one of your heroes standing there, pouring his heart out through music, manic and intimate, engaging and soulful.
Tim kicked the show off with Couldn't Be Done, a solid, rock driven number that promises to set the crowd roaring approval and followed with My Mistake, an old Split Enz number that I was very pleasantly surprised to hear. More wonderful tunes followed: Salt To the Sea, (lovingly dedicated to Paul Hester. Tim had a noticeable softeness in his voice when he said Hessies name. At least I thought so.) and other offerings from his latest solo CD "Imaginary Kingdom" including Astounding Moon, Midnight Coma, Still the Song, So Precious and Unsinkable, all performed with a measure of zeal and earnest that portrays just how much Tim believes in his latest solo effort. As well he should.
Peppered into the set were some loveable favorites. Six Months In A Leaky Boat, complete with extra whistling practice, the always beautiful Persuasion, the funky Dirty Creature, and a rather tame version of I See Red. I'd hoped for the all out manic version, but stage restrictions, time restrictions and instrumental restrictions as well only allowed for a stripped back performance. It's okay though. Accompanied by Tim's facial expressions, which range from slightly imbalanced to concentrated to profound, it was everything I could have hoped for.
The encore included a gorgeous version of Parihaka, a song which I previously have NOT counted among one of my favorites due to the album version, which I just don't like. Live and acoustic, it becomes an intensely emotional number, beautifully melodic and dulcet. This is how I wish it was on the album. It's a completely new song without all that dated 80's overproduction.
Tim ended with Poor Boy, which was my one hope for the evening, and it didn't disappoint. It's my favorite Enz song, and I couldn't have asked for a better set ender. I was completely wow'ed.
Tim's voice is spectacular live, clear and distinct, easy to listen to. Don't ever let anyone tell you that Tim has lost it, because it was clear to me Saturday night that he's FAR from losing it. He sounds as good as he ever did. Only now, he operates with a measure of maturity, confidence and naturalness that some seasoned performers lack. There's a brashness about him, too. Couple that with his gentle talent and it's a show I never want to miss.
I said this on one of the forums, but I'm going to repeat it here. If you ever, in your life, get the chance to see Tim Finn, especially if it's an acoustic gig, take it. See it. Seize the day. It's worth every penny you spend and every second of your time.
I couldn't have asked for a better seat, which I owe to my friend Jodi. It was so great to meet you my friend. You're just as wonderful as I thought you'd be!
Tim was literally hovering above me, mere inches from me, so close that a few times I thought I'd be sweat on (and believe me, the man can sweat!). There's nothing like craning your neck up to find one of your heroes standing there, pouring his heart out through music, manic and intimate, engaging and soulful.
Tim kicked the show off with Couldn't Be Done, a solid, rock driven number that promises to set the crowd roaring approval and followed with My Mistake, an old Split Enz number that I was very pleasantly surprised to hear. More wonderful tunes followed: Salt To the Sea, (lovingly dedicated to Paul Hester. Tim had a noticeable softeness in his voice when he said Hessies name. At least I thought so.) and other offerings from his latest solo CD "Imaginary Kingdom" including Astounding Moon, Midnight Coma, Still the Song, So Precious and Unsinkable, all performed with a measure of zeal and earnest that portrays just how much Tim believes in his latest solo effort. As well he should.
Peppered into the set were some loveable favorites. Six Months In A Leaky Boat, complete with extra whistling practice, the always beautiful Persuasion, the funky Dirty Creature, and a rather tame version of I See Red. I'd hoped for the all out manic version, but stage restrictions, time restrictions and instrumental restrictions as well only allowed for a stripped back performance. It's okay though. Accompanied by Tim's facial expressions, which range from slightly imbalanced to concentrated to profound, it was everything I could have hoped for.
The encore included a gorgeous version of Parihaka, a song which I previously have NOT counted among one of my favorites due to the album version, which I just don't like. Live and acoustic, it becomes an intensely emotional number, beautifully melodic and dulcet. This is how I wish it was on the album. It's a completely new song without all that dated 80's overproduction.
Tim ended with Poor Boy, which was my one hope for the evening, and it didn't disappoint. It's my favorite Enz song, and I couldn't have asked for a better set ender. I was completely wow'ed.
Tim's voice is spectacular live, clear and distinct, easy to listen to. Don't ever let anyone tell you that Tim has lost it, because it was clear to me Saturday night that he's FAR from losing it. He sounds as good as he ever did. Only now, he operates with a measure of maturity, confidence and naturalness that some seasoned performers lack. There's a brashness about him, too. Couple that with his gentle talent and it's a show I never want to miss.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
My condition is hard to define...
You know, some days, I feel like I should be doing more with my life than sitting here in my house, playing ponies and princesses and cooking dinners and folding clothes. Some days, I wish I could go back to school and have a career and make my own money to do whatever I want with.
It's funny, but when I was working after I got married, I remember salivating for the day that I got pregnant and could quit work. It wasn't an option. We decided early on that I'd stay home with the kids and I just couldn't wait for that day.
Now, 2 kids and 6 years later, I want the exact opposite. I'm waiting for the day that I can go on to something useful to ME once the kids are off to school on the bus. I don't know what that is yet. School, a job, my own thing...who knows. All I know is that it's time for me to become a whole person again. Not just wife, not just Mommy. I love being those things, but they can't be ALL that I am anymore.
It makes me feel bad sometimes, though. I struggle with those feelings. On one hand, I've wanted to be one of those women who is satisfied with being defined by those terms...wife, mother...and are happy and fulfilled by such. On the other hand, I know I have the brain to be more, to do more. I squandered college the first time. Maybe the second time I could make a go of it.
Been thinking a lot lately about something I used to want to do. At one time, my ambition in life was to be a Professor of American History. History is my passion, next to music, and since I'm realistic enough to know I don't have the chops to be a professional musician, history is the next best thing. I'd love to teach it and relate the excitement I feel when I learn and educate myself. I think that would be fun. A lot of hard work, but fun. I could do it if I wanted to.
I really could.
Today, I played doggies and ponies. We painted. We played outside. We talked about school and little league. I loved it. I truly did. I wouldn't miss any of it for the world. They need me. I need them. We need each other.
It's funny, but when I was working after I got married, I remember salivating for the day that I got pregnant and could quit work. It wasn't an option. We decided early on that I'd stay home with the kids and I just couldn't wait for that day.
Now, 2 kids and 6 years later, I want the exact opposite. I'm waiting for the day that I can go on to something useful to ME once the kids are off to school on the bus. I don't know what that is yet. School, a job, my own thing...who knows. All I know is that it's time for me to become a whole person again. Not just wife, not just Mommy. I love being those things, but they can't be ALL that I am anymore.
It makes me feel bad sometimes, though. I struggle with those feelings. On one hand, I've wanted to be one of those women who is satisfied with being defined by those terms...wife, mother...and are happy and fulfilled by such. On the other hand, I know I have the brain to be more, to do more. I squandered college the first time. Maybe the second time I could make a go of it.
Been thinking a lot lately about something I used to want to do. At one time, my ambition in life was to be a Professor of American History. History is my passion, next to music, and since I'm realistic enough to know I don't have the chops to be a professional musician, history is the next best thing. I'd love to teach it and relate the excitement I feel when I learn and educate myself. I think that would be fun. A lot of hard work, but fun. I could do it if I wanted to.
I really could.
Today, I played doggies and ponies. We painted. We played outside. We talked about school and little league. I loved it. I truly did. I wouldn't miss any of it for the world. They need me. I need them. We need each other.
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