Let It All Go

Put your hands in the water
Watch them go under
Put your hands to the light
Watch the light come through
And I will let you go
And I will let you go

Put your time on the table
See who'll sit down with you
Give your love to the ones
Who offer you bruise
After bruise, after bruise
And I will let you go
And I will let you go
And I will let you go

How we play fight
As we dance slow
The smile you make
Saying yes meaning no
Is so grey, so faint
The words stray in your mouth
With an ache

I'm standing in water
With the light on my shoulder
The weight of the doubt
Turned me to glass
I'm through living in question
Dreaming the answers
No more paving the present
With pain from my past
And I will let you go
And I will let you go
And I will let you go
And I will let you go

Dear Readers,

All 2.5 of you.  I have no idea why some blogs are posting, then disappearing. Or why certain blogs are telling me they are posted and then showing up at different times. Probably the same reason my phone is only accepting about 3/4 of the texts sent to me, giving me picture texts sometimes a week later, my facebook is continuously telling me I have a new message in my inbox and my Skype sometimes runs in slow motion:

I'M AWESOME AT TECHNOLOGY. Life is full of challenges, let's just embrace this together.

RIP MCA

A few years ago, I was dating a guy. (I know, weird.) I don't know if we were out on a date or on the phone, but at some point early on, we had a conversation about childhood and music. I told him a story about the first albums my sister and I bought. One of if not the first album my sister purchased was Beastie Boys Licensed To Ill.

At the time, I was pretty busy grooving to Phil Collins, Chicago 17 and Lionel Richie. And loving it. Then I heard Paul Revere blasting out of our dining room. I was entranced. Our parents exposed us to plenty of different music, but I really had never heard rap. My sister listened to RATT, and Dokken on the reg, for crying out loud, I had no idea what the hell she was doing with this record. Though, there was a rock edge to it. And borderline pop. It was dreamy. I wanted it. I wanted every song to play all the time. (My parents, and definitely my grandparents, disagreed.)

I told this boy this story. About how I fell in love with the Beasties and those songs that I was listening to still sounded brand new when I later bought them on cassette and then again on CD. And then again on CD when that first CD had a tragic accident in a friend's Ford Escort. I told him I was still always jealous that she had that record. She got to tear the plastic off a brand new Beastie Boys Licensed to Ill vinyl and I knew my parents wouldn't let us both have it, that we would have to share, and my sister shared her records about as well as she shared the hidden booze in her room or her Van Halen posters.

A few weeks after we had this little exchange, I went to see him and as we were walking up to his place, he said "its here! close your eyes". He had a present for me. I closed my eyes and sat down and he handed me a large, flat, padded envelope. I had no idea what it was and when I tore it open and pulled out a Beastie Boys Licensed to Ill album, I screamed. I held it back, because I didn't want to look like a lunatic, but I really wanted to cry holding that thing. It represented more than something I wanted when I was a little girl. It was like holding a piece of my childhood that survived the wildfire that growing up spreads across the landscape of your life.

That album is now displayed in my room on my bookshelf to remind me of great things. The music on it, my childhood envy and awe, and the fact that boys actually listen sometimes. I need to frame it, but I love picking it up and handling it every once in a while.

Just like I did every time Jennifer wasn't looking. :)

20 Reason To Watch Roadhouse.

Dalton stitches his own shoulder. Shirtless guy dancing at Double Deuce. There's chicken wire to protect the band. Who's lead singer is a blind slide guitar player. Mullets galore. Dalton doesn't fly. But he does wear mock turtlenecks. Giant bar fight. The Doc's hair. Brad Wesley's 3 wheeler. Monster truck. Guy with the cross earring. That knows pool stick martial arts. Sam Elliot is "the best". And has long hair. The strip tease that included matching satin heels and ended in giant white panties. The half-face shiner that followed. The aerobics being done while "hiding" said shiner. Full blown 80's sex scene. Sooooooo many roundhouses.

What are the chances that a guy wearing a silk blazer with shoulder pads is going to kick ass?

150 fucking percent!

Duck, Duck, Dead Cat

I'm leaving the house last night to have a cocktail. I'm heading up the street from my house and I see something moving across it in the darkness. I can tell it's a living creature and it's low to the ground, but taller in the front and sort of waving in the back. The first thing I think is "Oh gross. One of the little lacrosse bullies (my neighborhood child gang) has a huge pet lizard the scaled bastard is on the loose!", but as I get closer, I recognize the tall part of the reptile beast. It's not a lizard at all, or even one animal. It's a mama duck leading a trail of 4 babies across the street in the night. I damn near explode with happiness.

I cover my mouth as I'm squealing. I consider canceling drinks so I can follow them around to see they make it safely somewhere. I grip my door handle thinking I'll just get out and scoop them up and make them pets. I consider going back to my house to make giant signs to place around the neighborhood reading SLOW! WE HAVE DUCKS!, but I decide these are all bad ideas that would most likely frighten the babies and get the mama to beak me to death.

I end up having a few drinks, but can barely concentrate on anything BUT those damn ducks. On my way home, I drive painfully slow just in case. As I pull in my driveway, I see one of the cats that lives in the neighborhood in the driveway next door. Normally, I'm trying to save them or the raving mad Pomeranian that apparently keeps escaping from one of my neighbors, but let's face it... baby ducks > cats.

I need some meow mix and rat poison. Kidding! Or am I.....

Lifening

A hand upon my foreheadA joke and then a laughWaking up in your armsA place to call my own
This is all I ever wanted from lifeThis is all I ever wanted from lifeThis is all I ever wanted from life
Ireland in the World CupEither North or SouthThe fan club on the jukeboxThe birds and yes the bees
This is all I ever wanted from lifeThis is all I ever wanted from lifeThis is all I ever wanted from life
Words of reassuranceBut only if they're trueJust some simple kindnessNo vengeance from the Gods
This is all I ever wanted from lifeThis is all I ever wanted from lifeThis is all I ever wanted from life
To share what I've been givenSome kids eventuallyAnd be for them what I've hadA father like my dad
This is all I ever wanted from lifeThis is all I ever wanted from lifeThis is all I ever wanted from life
To share what I've been given

It's The Little Things

I don't think anyone can understand how happy I am that:

1. JVDB is back on TV. And on a show I totes heart.

2. My yard, house and armpits (combo of Old Spice and slight BO) smell of summertime coming.

3. My roommate and I now regularly talk to each other like Muppets.

Except you, blog readers. You always get me.