November 29, 2007

Next time I'm just going for the bacon, egg & cheese.

Sugar-free mixed berry corn muffins can suck it. No wonder that's all they had left.


November 26, 2007


I just ran into some chick and doused myself with my morning Diet Coke.

Oh, the day it's shaping up to be . . .

November 21, 2007

Um, yeah.

So, is this becoming the Chris Pureka fansite? What can I say? I've been listening to her stuff nonstop since I got the albums.

But really, with lyrics like this:

So I made a little room,
up on the top shelf
and I won't hold that place dog-eared anymore,
no which is to say
life just goes on dear,
which is to say
sometimes I miss you like hell...

. . . how in the hell can you not appreciate her?

Interesting campaign.

Don't know much about Mr. Huckabee, but I know Mr. Norris has fists of steel. Politics Shmolitics, this made me laugh . . .

I don't consider myself a Republican at all, but I must say that I appreciate Huckabee's humor.

And I appreciate Chuck, too. As do we all: Chuck Norris Facts.

November 15, 2007

So It Goes

Listened to the new Chris Pureka album (Dryland) whilst cleaning last night. I really do love this chick's music.

Word. Click the title to listen to the song. Tis worth it.

So It Goes

You pack your sweaters for the fall
and the flowers die in their garden rows
and the warm words can't help at all,
everybody knows...

You're trying to find a compromise
between remembering and learning to forget,
so now just pouring a glass of water
is like trying to move boulders with your breath.

It's so hard to see it all,
she tries to hold you in the night,
but you're shaking you're crying out,
praying for sleep to bless your bedside.

That's right, so it goes,
the whole world folds over you.
Pack your handkerchief and your best shoes...

Reconciliation of guilt and grief,
it's the hardest battle you've tried to win
and now every year you grit your teeth
as it cuts you underneath your skin.

Oh and Sunday mornings don't bring you solace,
you are firm in your disbelief
but you hold tight to that old promise;
you are waiting for the spring,
you are waiting for the spring.

That's right, so it goes,
the whole world folds over you.
Pack your handkerchief and your best shoes...

Don't leave me breathing,
no not alone,
there's so much more I meant to tell you.
I went by with flowers, just to see,
but that granite told me you're still gone....

Don't leave me breathing,
no not alone,
there's so much more I meant to tell you...
I went by with flowers, just to see,
but the granite told me you're still gone....

My, your shoes are lovely.

I was up until 2 a.m. cleaning my apartment. My dinner consisted of a glass of wine and a bowl of ice cream. I haven't exercised more than twice a week in months . . . (and I'm lucky if I get 2 workouts in). I am the pillar of health.

And I am a tired girl. And a lazy girl. Case in point, I just ran a couple of errands in my building with two different shoes on:

I noticed the incorrect shoe-ing minutes after leaving my desk YET I made no effort to back-up and start over. Because I really don't give a shit. Awesome, right? Right.

Dude, I wish I was still sleeping.

(Man, this blog post might be my most entertaining one yet. I am on FIRE.)

November 13, 2007


very pretty, very sad

it's been four years since that day when the news fell from the sky
you took until we meet again and turned it to goodbye
and I hope that you won't rest in peace because that would bore you right to tears
you always made the richest feast of the dangers and the fears

it was almost fine, you were almost mine
it was you and me and love made three on a broken white line

well that night was long, there was one more song and then we were on our way
driving slow, no place to go and nothing more to say
and the rain came down around that car like we were underneath the sea
in the back seat, almost drowning, holding on to me

it was almost fine, you were almost mine
and from town to town we chased it down on a broken white line
looking in your eyes was just like staring at the sun
always thought that I'd go blind or end up all undone

and in the end I turned my face away from where you shone so bright
now I wake in all this darkness crying for a little of your light

it's been four years and now I find I've been living all this time
I built myself a little world of rhythm and of rhyme
but sometimes I take your picture and I turn it to the wall
because you are still a cliff and baby I still know how to fall

it was almost fine, you were almost mine
but day by day you slipped away down that broken white line

it was you and me and love made three

broken white line / kris delmhorst


I hear you, Cris.

November 9, 2007

Amazing. Just amazing.


Right. Right. What??

SCORPIO [Oct. 23 – Nov. 21]
I believe that doing the challenging assignments I'm about to describe will put you in alignment with cosmic rhythms and make it more likely that you will attract grace and synchronicity into your life. You are, of course, under no obligation to carry them out. That's because you have free will and are always at liberty to choose a path that leads you away from grace and synchronicity. With that as a caveat, here are the roles I believe you should play in the coming week if you'd like to thrive: a catalytic X-factor; a tender wild card; a friendly shocker; a nonviolent bombshell; an agent provocateur who loves all you survey. —Rob Breszny, Village Voice


November 7, 2007

November 6, 2007

Prepare yourself for my folly.

SCORPIO [Oct. 23 – Nov. 21]
A drunk dominatrix sidled up to me at a party and said, "Reverend, please absolve me of my sins." I'm not officially a priest, but in the spirit of fun and games I replied, "Why, my dear? Have you seen the error of your ways?" She spread her arms wide as she bowed, hissing like a serpent through a toothy smile. "Not at all, Reverend," she said. "I just want to clear the docket so I can go out and commit a slew of fresh new sins with crazy abandon." I sprinkled a few drops of Heineken on her head and channeled William Blake: "You'll never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough. The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom. If the fool would persist in her folly, she would become wise." And now, Scorpio, I'm channeling the same blessing for you. —Village Voice / Rob Brezsny

Well, if that's not an invitation for debauchery, I'm not sure what is.

November 5, 2007

New music . . . yes, again . . .

Newest album purchase: Deb Talan / A Bird Flies Out.

Bought the CD for the track, Rocks and Water. Lovely song:

Seven times I went down
Six times I walked back
I don't fear the dark anymore
'Cause I've become all that

I will be rocks I will be water
I will leave this to my daughter
Lift your head up in the wind
When you feel yourself grow colder
Wrap the night around your shoulders
I will be with you even then
Even when I cannot see your face anymore

Don't forget the time I wooed him with red wine
The devil he wore such a fine, fine shirt
And it stayed so clean
While he dragged me through the dirt

Now honey don't trust anyone who looks you in the eye
Don't take any kindness, it's a demand in disguise

Repeat Chorus

I have seen such things child
On this and the other side
Words cannot show you
The midnight owl it does not know you
You will see for your sweet self by and by

Repeat Chorus

And, now I need to get something from The Weepies, which is her "group" with Steve Tannen . . . with whom she wrote Rocks and Water. Full. Circle.

Also loving this track: Unraveling

You tie your shoes too tight, you know
cause it feels better that way.
And when you don't, all night you are dreaming
you walk, laces streaming down the street behind you.

A river of tangled string
you are unraveling
and no one else seems to mind.
You keep it to yourself, stay numb and act fine.
You wear the truth under your sole, like a pebble
it makes you limp and sway
but it will out someday.

Take it from me it is no use
washing your hands so often they are clean and cracked.
You never get your old skin back
once you have loved like that
you're a river of tangled string...

He is inside you, he loved your marrow.
You think you could cut him out with a knife
if you went deep enough
I don't think so.
Maybe sing him back to living
'cause he might rise like a snake in a basket
or he may close his eyes
and wait till his life is a full-fledged casket, floating on
a river of tangled string...


Grapes are filling.

Just sayin' . . .

November 2, 2007

Damn, this album is really friggin' good.

I've got skin like birch bark
you can peel me off and lose me to the wind
I guess it's too late, to protect myself from this

it feels like I've been driving north
it's getting colder by the mile
and at this rate I'll be buried in snow in no time at all
but you've been building these walls for a long time
it's not that I didn't know but you'd flash me another smile
as you'd lay another stone
and I still fall for that
I still fall for that one every time

this is all that's left
just these sad sad songs
if you're going to go your way
I guess I'll carry myself along

could you build me a guardrail
to keep me from falling off of the ledge?
or throw me a rope and pull me out of this?
could you sew me a flag to remind me
where I stand without you, it's easy to forget

and this is all that's left...

well I've been taking long drives with the music too loud
I've been dragging my feet over the February ground
and I've been talking to strangers at the local bars
and I wish they were you
you know it just brings me down
tell me a joke or two I could use one now

'cause I've got skin like birch bark...

and this is all that's left...

Driving North / Chris Pureka

It means, there's a spider on your mutha-fuckin' head.

For Cris: You got the hot foot.

You wanna cookie? I'll give you a cookie . . . *pelvic thrust, pelvic thrust*