rolling home to you

Old man, look at my life, I'm a lot like you

Old man, take a look at my life
Twenty-four and I'm so much more
Live alone in a paradise, makes me think of two

Love lost at such a cost
Give me things that don't get lost
Like a coin that won't get tossed, rolling home to you

Old man, take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you
I need someone to love me the whole day through
Oh, one look in my eyes and you can tell that's true

Lullabies, look in your eyes
Run around the same old town
Doesn't mean that much to me, mean that much to you

I've been first and last
Look at how the time goes past
But I'm all alone at last, rolling home to you

Old man, take a look at my life, I'm a lot like you
I need someone to love me the whole day through
Oh, one look in my eyes and you can tell that's true

Old man, look at my life, I'm a lot like you

—Old Man / The Wailin' Jennys

Word, no?

220 calories

Mike and Ike: I heart you.

There’s grown-up on my pillow.

(Hope you’re feeling better Lisbeth. And it’s throw-up.)

I don’t understand them, the people who show up for jury duty without a book, magazine, crossword puzzle, pen and paper, anything. I watched these people do nothing all day today. How can you do nothing for eight hours? They just sat. And stared. At nothing. I don’t understand them.

That being said, I got through two magazines, a third of Eat, Pray, Love and had quite the day of relaxation and quiet. I love jury duty. To sit in a quiet room for eight hours and read? Now, I know this isn’t the typical civic duty service for most, but to be one of the lucky ones as I was today? . . . to not have your name called? . . . while at first it felt like I was the last pick in the school yard, I soon got over it.

Back to work tomorrow. I might just have to go back to being a legal eagle (I'm so cool) later in the week though. Don’t ask . . . I have no idea how this crap works either. I’m just doing what they tell me.

It’s past my bedtime and I have a big tension headache from the enormous breakdown I just had on the phone with my sister. Dude, Sarah, you’re one patient lady. I’m terribly sorry you always seem to get the explosions. (I know it’s particularly fun to hear me fight to catch breath, being so friggin’ blocked up and all.)

Ugh . . .

One last fit for 2007, I suppose (let’s hope that’s the last one). I think 2008 is going to be all about learning how to live in a capable, non-retarded fashion. Or perhaps I won’t have to worry and soon I’ll just start pooping money.

I’m going to go to bed now and hope that I wake up making more sense.

From Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert:

"I love my pizza so much, in fact, that I have come to believe in my delirium that my pizza might actually love me, in return."

"You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."

"Brad's bum in particular was in a bad way."

Thank you for this, Betsy.

Fans get too close to Brad Pitt and George Clooney waxworks

Holy crap, that's some funny shit.

High C.

I’m retuning today: Retune the Body with a Partial Fast

I’ve never realized just how much of my life revolves around food . . . how much I think about it, love it, plan ahead for it. And, I have to say . . . I just don’t think that’s a bad thing.

I’m hungry as hell. Yet . . . proud. Just think, I’m waking up tomorrow retuned! How’re YOU waking up tomorrow?

7.5 hours to go . . .

I'm a friggin' hero.

Good. And good.

I just read about this web site in Self magazine. I already love it.

lifehacker


(Congrats, pumpkinhead. I'm proud of you. I still think you're crazy, but I'm proud of you.)

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.

Wah.

Awe.Some.

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

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

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.

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.)

Funny.

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.

Amazing. Just amazing.

ICANHASCHEEZBURGER

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

Huh?

Two A-Holes.

Love them so very much.


Funny: Two A-Holes work out with a trainer.

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.

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

Chorus:
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...

ugh

Grapes are filling.

Just sayin' . . .