OK, maybe I like Halloween a LITTLE bit.

Good grief, my niece is just the cutest thing.

Quite. Nice.

I just bought an album called Driving North by Chris Pureka.



I heard her song, Burning Bridges, on the Be Good Tanyas radio station I made on Pandora. The album is lovely. Listened to it last night and immediately put it in my iTunes, at work, this morning.

LYRICS:

This is a story of burning bridges
and allowing time to pass
this is a story of forgiveness
and breaking things in my hands
this is a story of understanding
you can't choose who you love
and this is a story of soft skin
and rats in the walls

well you can't just pass along
the pain that comes around
you'll go dizzy until you fall
and I know you didn't mean to let me down
but you let me down so hard

this is a story of loaded glances
and leaning in too far
this is a story of vague advances
and confessions in smoky bars
so now I am walking down the sidewalk
and I am singing to myself
and I'm going to leave it all behind me now
'cause I don't need this,
I just don't need this

and you can't...

these memories are talking and talking
and I'll do anything to shut 'em up
I've got the pillow over my head
but they won't stop
no, no they won't stop

some fantasies are never meant to be
realized at all
and some regrets could be prevented
if you read the writing on the wall
oh and sometimes you say "you know nothing can happen"
and then she leans over and lifts off your glasses
and the next thing you know you're just tangled and guilty
and you've got a head full of liquor and perfume
oh and when did you leave me
and when did you find her
and tell me is this just what you wanted...


Good review of Driving North

I'll be buying her new album (Dryland) soon. My, how I love discovering a good singer/songwriter.

Juice and a movie . . .

I hear my niece is watching Lady and the Tramp right now.

I wish I was with her.

Both Hands

This has been one of my favorite Ani songs since listening to the Like I Said album nonstop on a trip to England, after my high school graduation. I'm really loving the new re-recorded version on the new double album Canon, too. And just looky what I found on YouTube. (It's a wonder I get anything done with the interweb's snazziness afoot.)

Nope, nope, nope

Not a damn thing wrong with this album.
Heart heart heart heart heart . . .

Spring cleaning . . . in the Fall.

SCORPIO [Oct. 23 – Nov. 21]
Don't eat stale candy from a vending machine where it has sat for six months. Don't seek advice from people who haven't changed their minds about anything since the last century. And don't wear clothes you acquired before 2005 or cling to attitudes you adopted before last month. Catch my drift, Scorpio? You need to evade every influence that tends to keep you frozen in the past. In fact, I'll go so far as to say that it's time to make yourself fully available for the healthiest kind of future shock. Halloween costume suggestions: a grinning exclamation point, a rosebud about to burst open, a welcome sign, a religious devotee dressed in white.
—Village Voice, Rob Brezsny

Word. Well, except for the Halloween part. That part can suck it. Halloween can suck it. What? Where are my pants?

I never ramble.

Tis truly frustrating not having a computer at home. Truly, truly frustrating. I’ve become way too dependent on technology. But you can bet your ass I’ll never be going on one of those “Living Green for a Year!” endeavors that are all the rage right now. Nope, Green can suck it. (Just kidding, just kidding, Earth!)

Sooooooo . . . the computer is MAYBE going to work again. Maybe not. Things are fuzzy. BUT the good news is that I’ll be buying one of the G5s going off lease from my company for about $300 – and I think I’ll be bringing that puppy home next week sometime. So, that’s something. Of course, wouldn’t you know, as soon as I have a wee bit more money coming in, out it on goes. Jebus. Yet, I need the faster, better, doesn’t-shut-down-every-5-minutes machine. Need need need want want want . . .

Completely OFF subject, I heard the following conversation on Tuesday morning, on my bus-ride to work. Made me laugh SO I wrote it down for your pleasure:

Old woman: “You know Tom’s suit last night?”

Old man: “Yeah (pause) what about it?”

Old woman: “I always wanted you to buy one like that but it’s too late now. Now you’re too old.

And . . . silence.

Right. Well, that doesn’t seem very nice. But, it sure is funny . . . to some.

Moving on . . .

I am in LOVE with the Be Good Tanyas radio station I’ve created on Pandora. It rocks it. Big time. And I did some digging on the interweb this evening and bought a CD from one chick I’ve discovered. Have a list of another ten CDs I’m going to look into. Will let you good people know what I think later. YOU must be on the edge of your seat, eh?

(Sarah: Interesting tidbit . . . seems Natalie Merchant covers “Sally Ann” on a retrospective CD she put out. INTeresting, eh? Not a bad track either.

OH, and I must say, that even though Old Crow Medicine Show has “Cocaine Habit” on seemingly every album, I quite like the track on Big Iron World the best. It’s crazy good . . . so I think. And, what do you think?)

OK, I’m done talking to my sister now.

(Where was my 4:30 call today? Not cool.)

OK, now I’m done.

I really can’t think of much else I have to say. I’m sure I’ll remember something else I wanted to ramble about halfway thru my walk home (which I’m quite looking forward to tonight – need to do some thinking . . . it’s my big girl birthday on Saturday, after all. I need to start analyzing the shit out of my life and such. Per usual.)



Just going to keep going with them . . . one of the songs in my top 5 (it’s just so lovely and this is a good performance of it!):



And the video (Sarah: have you seen this?? Notice the Gillian cameo!):



My how Ketch is a lovely boy. (I really still can’t believe they played at your wedding, Sarah. You give Andrew the music responsibility and look how well he does!)

And I am NOW done talking to my sister via my blog-o.

Have one hell of a night, peeps.

Loving this song today:

from the depth of the pacific
to the height of everest
and still the world is smoother
than a shiny ball-bearing
so i take a few steps back
and put on a wider lens
and it changes your skin,
your sex, and what your wearing
distance shows your *silhouette*
to be a lot like mine
like a sphere is a sphere
and all of us here
have been here all the time
yeah, we've been here all the time*

you brought me to church
cinder blocks, flourescent light
you brought me to church
at seven o'clock on a sunday night
and the band was rockin'
and the floors were scrubbed clean
and everybody had a tambourine

so i took a deep breath and became
the white girl with the hair
and you sat right beside me
while everybody stared
and through the open window
i think the singing went outside
and floated up to tell
all the stars not to hide
'cuz by the time church let out
the sky was much clearer
and the moon was so beautiful
that the ocean held up a mirror

as we walked home we spoke slowly
we spoke slow
and we spoke lowly
like it was taking more time
than usual to choose
the words to go
with your squeaky sandal shoes
like time is not a thing
thats ours to lose

from the height of the pacific
to the depths of the everest...

everest / ani difranco

I hate your heroes.

Eff the gym. I'm going home, to eat mac & cheese and watch women cry their eyes out on The Bachelor.

My plans = Amazing.

www.readabookalready.com

So, it turns out my lovely computer has a memory problem (just like its Mam) BUT it’s being handled. Bought myself a brand-spanking new gigabyte of mems this afternoon. Surely that should make the sucker comfortable until I purchase a friend for him. We shall see, oh we shall see.

Now that I’m done boring MYSELF . . .

All of this means I’m not going to have a computer this weekend. No checking of the email, no wide webbed world browsing, no pretending to work on my “budget” when I’m really just looking at old photographs. None of that . . .

Damn.

I hope there’s good TV on.

And now it’s off to the gym for the FOURTH time this week!! I. Am. Hot. Shit. No, seriously. Seriously.

Seriously.

OH, those crazy Brits.

Gotta love this:

Pretty awesome.

Anne Coulter Hacked!

She's so fucking cool.

Fatty McFatpants

I haven't stopped eating all day. Seriously, I can't be stopped.

One night at the gym and apparently I have the metabolism of . . . of . . . Calista Flockhart?? (Yeah, I don't know . . . I got nothing.)

Although, I did manage to lose a good twenty pounds during the commute to work this morning. I have FINALLY brought my computer in for my IT friendy friend to take a look at . . . as it can't go 5 minutes without crapping out. Of course, I wouldn't have had to lug my damn tower into work had I been able to identify the hard drive upon opening said tower. (Yup, I'm a moron.)

But, believe me, I definitely lost some weight. (Which makes me think . . . perhaps I bring a heavy item from home every time I go to work? Today, my computer. Tomorrow, my TV.) That badass was heavy. And I wouldn't suggest taking the bus whilst transporting a computer. You get . . . looks . . . and stupidity. One women asked me what it was. When I said "a computer" she said "oh! I didn't realize that because it's in a case!" . . . WHAT??? What in the hell kind of computer does she use?? Fucking PC users . . .

Right . . . soooooooo, what I'm saying is, I'm a rockstar. That's pretty much it.

Bah blah bah blah bah blahhhhh

It has now been . . . I’d say . . . well . . . a long fucking time since I was last at the gym. And I’m feeling it. Big Time. It’s pretty damn horrible how quickly you can fall out of an exercise routine . . .

Yeah, so I’m going. In a half-hour or so.

Even though, after the day I’ve had, I rather feel the need to soak my head in a big ol’ bucket o’ vodka.

There’s always tomorrow, I s’pose.

G’night.

Dude, is that annoying or what?

um . . .

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): Eskimos of Siberia are perplexed by the changes in their climate, wrote Usha Lee McFarling in the Seattle Times. Thunder and lightning used to be exceptional events, but now they make regular appearances. Bizarre, balmy winds breeze in out of the south. Elders who were once skilled in the art of reading the sky to foretell the weather are at a loss. "The Earth is turning faster," said one hunter. I suspect, Scorpio, that you're having a comparable crisis of faith on the personal level. For you, the Earth may not only seem to be rotating at a speedier clip, but also at a different angle. One of these mornings, you may even see the sun rise in the west. But your situation isn't necessarily as disturbing as the Eskimos believe theirs to be. For all you know, the signs are portents of rebirth. —Village Voice, Rob Brezsny

Is it OK to get weepy whilst reading a horoscope?

Perhaps that's just due to sitting at my desk, at work, on a Saturday. hhhmmmm . . .

Because I just can't get to work this morning.

TGIF.

I heart the weekend.

Goals:

1. Laundry (Hopefully tonight – God help me, I’m on my last thong. Is that too much information? Anyhoo, I have nothing left to wear. Must clean clothing.)

2. Sleep (preferably for HOURS and HOURS)

3. Lunch with Shmoob (and beer . . . lovely beer)

4. Pay hours of attention to DVR. (We need to work on our relationship. I’ve been neglectful.)

5. Gym (Sweet Baby Jebus, I hope I don’t pass out at minute 2 on the treadmill. This could be dangerous, people. I believe this will be my first time back at the gym in a couple of months. My gut will be grateful, I’m sure.)

6. Rifle thru shit and see what I can get rid of.


I’m pretty sure I’m going to be spending more time on Goal #2 than any of the others . . . and I’m OK with that.

Cuteness.

Thank God this commercial is starting to air again.



I can't stop watching it.

So, THAT was some big news . . . what else . . .

Um, I'll get back to you.

Two things

1. Chicken dumpling soup is delish.

2. Thanks be to Jebus, tomorrow is payday.

whoop whoop

Bunnies, rainbows, stardust

I’m in desperate need of a time-out and a self-overhaul.

I started compiling a list today. Of things I want to do, need to do, better fucking do. I was adding things to it all day. Of course, this is probably going to go the way of most of the other “to do” lists I put together, but I’m going jot it down here anyhow . . . because I have it on my mind and this is my blog to do with as I wish. So suck it.

- No more diet coke before noon (this is a very good idea)

- Buy new pair of Responsibility Pants and focus on doing freelance work in a timely fashion, going after more freelance work, and doing better work for clients

- Wear new pair of RPs to get out of financial clusterfuck that I—and only I—have created for myself

- Apply same determination and drive used at work to health and self-preservation (read: use gym membership, stop eating like a cow, get a hell of a lot more sleep, drop-kick stress level, etc.)

- Start friggin’ drawing again already

- Engage in some extracurricular creative study (get to a bookstore once a week and sit with design mags for a hour—thank you, Timmy)

- Give clothes to Good Will, sell shoes on eBay, take books to second-hand library bookshop (a.k.a. sort through clothes, stuff . . . shed extra baggage)

- Pick up one of the many, many, many books lugged home and take less than 3 months to finish it

- Stop waiting 2-4 weeks before returning emails, phone calls, friend interaction (get head out of own ass)

- Read stack of magazines taking up valuable floor space

- Buy camera, learn how to use it, start taking photos of my important people

- Buy strings, pick up dusty guitar, figure out how to put strings on guitar, start teaching self (again) how to play guitar (like it worked out so well the first time?), impress everyone, get record deal, play at Brad and Angelina’s wedding

My. Wasn’t that exciting?

Wow, I really forgo a blog theme, don’t I?

And now, a treat:



Darling remember from when you come to me
that I’m the pretender,
I’m not what I’m supposed to be
but who could know, lf I’m a traitor?
times the revelator, revelator.

They caught the Katy, and left me a mule to ride.
The fortune lady came along she walked beside,
but every word seemed to date her.
Times the revelator, the revelator.

Up in the morning up and on the ride.
I drive in to Corning and all the spindles whine
and ever day is getting straighter.
Times the revelator the revelator

Leaving the valley and fucking out of sight
I’ll go back to Cali where I can sleep out every night
and watch the waves and move the fader.

Queen of fakes and Imitators
Times the revelator.


And now I'm going to sleep. Because it's late and I'm posting lists on my blog instead of working on bullet #4.

Good God, I hope I can get out of my head soon. If someone could let me know how to get out my own way, I'd appreciate it.


UPDATE: New title for bloggage entry, for one who felt dejected.

She used to be such a wee thing.

Lisbeth vs. The Computer



I'm pretty sure she's still the cutest thing ever. Ev. Er.

UPDATE: Yes, that's her calling the computer Nana. Because, her Nana in Virginia lives inside the monitor most of the time. Thank God they didn't have that technology when I was growing up . . . holy confusion, Batman.

Hiding My Heart / Brandi Carlile

So this is how the story went
I met someone by accident
That blew me away
That blew me away

It was in the darkest of my days
When you took my sorrow and you took my pain
And buried them away, you buried them away

And I wish I could lay down beside you
When the day is done
And wake up to your face under the morning sun
But like everything I've ever known
I'm sure you'll go one day
So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away
And I can't spend my whole life hiding my heart away

I dropped you off at the train station
And put a kiss on top of your head
I watched you wave
I watched you wave
Then I went on home to my skyscrapers
Neon lights and waiting papers
That I call home
I call it home

And I wish I could lay down beside you
When the day is done
And wake up to your face against the morning sun
But like everything I've ever known
I'm sure you'll go one day
So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away
And I can't spend my whole life hiding my heart away

I woke up feeling heavy hearted
I'm going back to where I started
The morning rain
The morning rain
And you know I wish that you were here
But that same old road that brought me here
Is calling me home
Is calling me home

And I wish I could lay down beside you
When the day is done
And wake up to your face against the morning sun
But like everything I've ever known
You'll disappear someday
So I'll spend my whole life hiding my heart away
And I can't spend my whole life hiding my heart away


**heartstring pull heartstring pull**

FYI

Fat free blueberry muffins could do with some fat in them.

Seriously.

in the a.m.

It's way past my bedtime. Yet, I haven't hit the sack yet (ha, sack). I got a little carried away downloading music . . . although, I did manage to find one of my favorite recordings (Ryan Adams and Gillian Welch, Helpless, 1999) and have listened to it on repeat for the last 15 minutes or so. And now you can listen to it, too! Here you go. (Please be sure to note the toolbox who drops his bottle. How much do you love THAT guy?) And, say, do you want the entire set from that night in Nashville? Well, here you go.

In other news, after I finished up freelance work (only 2 and a half weeks late with that) I started deleting crap off of my FTP site, as I've been warned that I'm all full up (of crap). I found the files from my old blog. The one that I took down in a state of "why in the hell do I have this up?"-dom. I'll warn you, I'm in that very same state of mind now, too. But I won't take this blog down (LUCKY. YOU.) b/c Cristina would seriously hurt me. I am, however, about to yank down that damn Effbook page. I can't explain it . . . it just freaks me out.

ANYhoo . . . found this when I was looking thru the old, forgotten blog archives. This site still makes me laugh: Poor Anthony.

Found a lot of other crap but it all made me puke . . . so there you go.

Goodnight, people.

an old favorite

Leased twenty acres
And one jimmy mule
From the Alabama Trust
Half of cotton, third of corn
Get a hand full of dust

We cannot have all things pleasin'
No matter how we try
Until we've all gone to Jesus
We can only wonder why

I had a daughter
Called her Annabelle
She's the apple of my eye
Tried to give her something like I never had
Didn't want to ever hear her cry

We cannot have all things pleasing
No matter how we try
Until we've all gone to Jesus
We can only wonder why
When I'm dead and buried

I'll take a hard life of tears
Every day I've ever known
Anna's in the churchyard
She's got no life at all
She only got these words on stone:

We cannot have all things pleasing
No matter how we try
Until we've all gone to Jesus
We can only wonder why

—Gillian Welch, Annabelle

Colors / Amos Lee

Yesterday I got lost in the circus
Felling like such a mess
Now I’m down I’m just hanging on the corner
I can’t help but reminisce
When you’re gone all the colors fade
When you’re gone no New Year’s Day parade
You’re gone
Colors seem to fade

Your mama called she said that you’re down stairs crying
Feeling like such a mess
Yeah I hear you you’re in the background bawling
What happened to your sweet summertime dress

I know we all, we all got our faults
We get locked in our vaults and we stay
But when you’re gone all the colors fade
When you’re gone no New Year’s Day parade
You’re gone
Colors seem to fade
Colors seem to fade
Yeah

***

Damn, that's one lovely song. I must see him in concert soon.

now we're talking . . .

ARSEBOOK

CRACKBOOK

lovely.

if you've never heard her music, you're missing out. when, oh when, is the next album out, imogen? your musical stylings fit my mood today.

six? six??

someone just used six happy exclamation points on me . . . in a seven word work email.

dear perky perkerson,

suck it.

mug

p.s. you got a tad of a smile . . . but don't go thinking that shit is cool.

song o' the day and a little question

so that's how you found me
rain falling around me
lookin down at a worm
with a long way to go
and the traffic was hissing by
and i was homesick
and i was high

i was surrounded by a language
in which i could say only hello
and thank you very much
and you spoke so i could understand
and i drew a treasure map on your hand

and you were no picnic
you were no prize
but you had just enough pathos
to keep me hypnotized
hypnotized

the map led to an island
in a sea of store-bought dreams
where soulless singers sang
over beats built by machines

and lovely girls were hovering
above my head like gulls
with their long slender necks
and their delicate skulls

and i was no picnic
i was no prize
but i had just enough sweetness
to keep you hypnotized
hypnotized

so that's how you found me
rain falling around me
lookin down at a worm
with a long way to go

—hypnotized, ani difranco

* * *

no caps today. no caps at all. caps are for the well-rested.

question: can one day pass me by without being sent a bill for some large amount of money that 1) i don't have 2) would be smaller had i remembered to pay the goddamn bill when it was due?

i'm an idiot.

i need this panicked feeling to dissipate at some point. i need to feel quiet.

Yummy yum yum

Just had a Cadbury Fruit & Nut. I refuse to feel bad about it, too. Until I can't button my pants tomorrow.

HEY, EFF YOU! IT'S BEEN A ROUGH WEEK!

Dammit.

Peachy.

I think I may have just nodded off at my desk for a full minute. Two 12-hour work days, no down-time, and getting into work at 8:00 a.m., does not a happy Muggy make. That was a wordy and horrible sentence . . . but you get my point. Need. A. Nap. And a refresher English course, apparently.

I can’t even begin to express the rage I’m starting to feel every time I hear “I can’t read that subtitle." Oh yeah?? Can’t you? That’s weird . . . you’d think you’d be able to read it STANDING 10 FUCKING FEET AWAY FROM THE COVER.
Welcome to my day.