all the fun of the fair...

...at least my iPod and iTunes think so.

While riding the bus into work this morning, I was listening to my lovely iPod, as I am wont to do while riding on the bus. And my lovely iPod decided that it really, really wanted me to listen to Music for Elevators, which I bought several years ago whilst in the throes of my deep Anthony Stewart Head crush.

(I still think he's impossibly yummy, mind you. It's just, now that I have my own nummy treat of a boyfriend, I'm a little bit more in control of my celebrity crushes.)

Oh, the iPod would toss in a few non-Tony Head songs, to throw me off the track, but I could tell what it was up to. Not that I minded - his voice is sublime and the music is good (even if I find the lyrics a bit on twee side).

But, once I sat at my desk and started up my iTunes, it immediately started up with It Doesn't Matter by Allison Kraus and the Union Station, which I got from Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Album. And that august TV show featured, of course, Anthony Stewart Head. Soon afterwards the iTunes also chimed in with Music for Elevators songs.

Of course, now that I'm writing about it, the iTunes has decided to explore some of the other artists I have loaded up, such as Simon and Garfunkel, Richard Thompson, Laura Cantrell, Sligo Rags and Emmylou Harris. But I just bet that, a few minutes after I post this entry, iTunes will be swooning over Tony Head again.

At least Apple products have good taste...

Labels: fangirl, joss whedon, musical interlude, yummy

From the very first time I rest my eyes on you, boy
My heart said follow through.
But I know now that I'm way down on your line
But the waiting feeling's fine

So don't treat me like a puppet on a string
'Cause I know how to do my thing
Don't talk to me as if you think I'm dumb
I wanna know when you're gonna come

See-
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love
'Cause summer is here
And I'm still waiting there
Winter is here
I'm still waiting there

Like I said-
It's been three years since I'm knocking on your door
And still I can knock some more
Ooh, boy, ooh, boy, is it crazy? Look, I wanna know now
For I to knock some more

You see-
In life I know
That there is lots of grief
But your love is my relief
Tears in my eyes burn
Tears in my eyes burn
While I'm waitin'
While I'm waitin' for my turn

You see-
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love
I don't wanna wait in vain for your love
'Cause summer is here
And I'm still waiting there
Winter is here
I'm still waiting there

Like I said-
I don't wanna, I don't wanna
I don't wanna, I don't wanna
I don't wanna wait in vain
I don't wanna, I don't wanna
I don't wanna, I don't wanna
I don't wanna wait in vain

It's been three years since I'm knocking on your door
And still I can knock some more
Ooh, boy, ooh, boy, is it crazy? Look, I wanna know now
Like I said-
Tears in my eyes burn
Tears in my eyes burn
While I'm waiting
While I'm waiting for my turn

You see-
Ooh, boy, ooh, boy, is it crazy? Look, I wanna know now
For I to knock some more
In life I know there is lots of grief
But your love is my relief

Waiting in Vain by Annie Lennox (from Medusa)

Man oh man, are the memories coming back.

So much has happened since I was first given this CD three years ago. And the young man who it to gave me was one for whom I felt these feelings all too keenly.

Well, those of you who have been following along with your intrepid heroine from the beginning know the outcome of that. For those new to these pages, four words: crash and burn, baby.

Oh, we're still friends. Not as nearly close as we once were, perhaps, but I have to take full responsibility for that. He's still been there for me when I've needed him, even when I haven't asked for his support. He's a good guy like that. I wish I could say the same of me for him. I'm hoping that'll change.

I've dated extensively in the intervening years (okay, mainly this year), and found myself having similar feelings for another friend, whom I've never dated. Might have something to do with the whole "From the very first time I rest my eyes on you, boy/My heart said follow through" thing. Seriously, the first time I saw his profile nearly two years ago I thought, "That is someone I must meet and get to know." And now we're great friends. But being able to recognize the signs of a hopeless torch being carried (hello, previous experience!), I was able to put the brakes on that car before I drove over another cliff. Well, most of it, at any rate. I think a wheel's been hanging off the edge there.

And now?

For more than a month I've been dating someone. The same person. Over a whole month. Stranger yet, he's drawing me from behind the walls I've built up around me. Walls that I thought were fifty feet high and constructed of pure solid titanium, but which might be mere canvas flats after all. My heels are still wearing grooves in the earth, at least a little bit, but I find myself missing him when we don't see each other, such as this week (ah, the joys of dating a single father - I recognize and accept that his children must come first, but I still miss him). We talk or email nearly every day. Until this week we saw each other at least once a week, and sometimes twice. My lack of a car and his residence in the South Bay preclude us from seeing each other more than that. At least for the time being.

I smile when I think of him, feeling my face soften and my heart warm. When we are together, I just want to put my arms around him or lean on his chest or feel his hot bare skin against mine. And it's not just because the boy knows what he's doing in bed (though I won't deny that might have something to do with it).

He's intelligent, kind and thoughtful. I'm used to men treating me well. I've been very fortunate in that way - even the two gentlemen mentioned above have sung my praises for the most part - proof that even when my feelings are hopeless, at least the men are worthy. (They've even said things to me that sound remarkably close to a few lines from this song.) Still, I'm amazed that HSTeacher treats me like a princess. No, like a goddess. It's astounding to me.

He's not a vegetarian, but he was, back in his Santa Cruz days, and when we're having dinner together he eats only vegetarian food. I never asked him to. He just does it because he wants to.

We have many things in common. We're not carbon copies of each other, but our politics and mutual love of science fiction and interest in metaphysics - amongst other things - are very complimentary. On our second date he turned to me and said, "Uh, Carol, I don't want this to sound like an insult, but, uh, you're kind of a nerd."

I raised my eyebrow in a very Spockian manner. "Kind of? Trust me, that's not even close to an insult. But I prefer to think of myself as a geek - I don't know enough technical stuff to be a nerd."

When I gaze into his big brown eyes, I find myself happy, then shy, and I bury my face in his chest, which makes him laugh and hold me closer.

He makes me laugh. Y'all know how important that is for me. And I make him laugh, which I love to hear.

We've, well, he asked me a couple of weeks ago if I felt comfortable with him referring to me as his girlfriend. At the time I was simply not ready for that and I told him as gently, but as honestly, as possible.

Recently I told him that, if he wanted to call me his girlfriend, I'd be cool with that, as lately I've been thinking of him as my boyfriend.

Yeah. Me. A Boyfriend. Capital "B". Who'da thunk, huh?

I'm still a bit cautious. There have been one or two other gentlemen over the last few years who were promising, but where nothing came of their pursuits (LiterateLawyerGuy, anyone?). Yet, this whole experience is filling me with wonder.

I have to say that maybe, just maybe, I won't be waiting in vain anymore.

Labels: musical interlude

It's been a long time since I had one of these:

You and I
Tempted by the promise of a different life
Time has fled
There's a constant battle running through my head
I don't know what to do
'Cause I still believe
After all the foolish things you've put me through
I could always make a start on something new
And I'll always be a man who's open to
Persuasion

Blind romance
There'll be no half measures given half a chance
But we never learn
Trusting in the fire while the cruel flame burns
And we need to rebuild
What was never there
What got left behind
After all the foolish things that we've been through
I could always make a start on something new
And I'll always be a man who's open to
Persuasion

And it's written in the my heart
So that everybody can see it
And it's written in my soul
After all, I still believe it
I still believe it
I still believe it
I still believe it

I don't know what to do
'Cause I still believe
After all the foolish things you put me through
I could always make a start with something new
And I'll always be a man who's open to
Persuasion
Persuasion
Persuasion
Persuasion
I still believe it
I still believe it
Persuasion
I still believe it
I still believe it
I still believe it
Persuasion
Persuasion

Persuasion - Richard and Teddy Thompson (Lyrics by Tim Finn - from Action Packed)

I've been writing again as of late, just a little bit, and I've been listening to a few CDs I hadn't heard in a very long time as I do so, trying to inspire old feelings to fuel my words. As I hit play on Another Disc #6, I was reminded of numerous songs I hadn't heard in many months, but this one leapt out at me from its first note and grabbed me by the eardrums, tugging and pulling me deep into the headphones. Much like my first listening of Nick Drake's Fruit Tree, I was moved to hit repeat over and over again, until the words and music saturated my cells and synapses, coursing along my veins and arteries until they spilled over, my limbs and digits dancing and swooping and swaying.

Curious, I looked up the artist and was surprised to discover the elder of this father and son team was one of the driving forces behind Fairport Convention, a seminal English folk-rock band from the Sixties that MusicianMan introduced to me (from whom I discovered the underappreciated wonder that was the late Sandy Denny).

You realize, of course, that I must now own every album by Richard Thompson. A new obsession may have just been born...

Labels: musical interlude

Crazy world
Full of crazy contradictions like a child
First you drive me wild
And then you win my heart with your wicked art
One minute tender, gentle
Then temperamental as a summer storm
Just when I believe your heart's getting warmer
You're cold and you're cruel
And I, like a fool, try to cope
Try to hang on, to hope

Crazy world
Everyday the same old roller coaster ride

But I've got my pride
I won't give in
Even though I know I'll never win
Oh, how I love this crazy world

Crazy World (from the soundtrack of Victor/Victoria)

I'm going to be away for a few days and I doubt I'll have time (or a place) to update y'all on the goings-on of the weekend, so I thought I'd leave you with a musical interlude. Especially since I haven't done one in awhile.

I love Victor/Victoria. I loved it when it first came on HBO, lo those many years ago. And twenty-three years later I still love this movie. And its music.

Sometimes people ask me why I still stay in the game. Why I take the trouble to be politically involved. "All politicians suck," they say, "and corporations own our country." And I say that I once thought the same.

Why, even though I am becoming increasingly convinced that Mr. Right-for-Me doesn't exist - a thought I've carried with me for several months now, which is a whole other entry I may write someday - why is there a little bit of me that still thinks maybe he will show up?

Why do I stay in the game?

See the lyrics above. As I grow older, and my wounds turn into cynical scars - as I look at the world with an eye as jaded as any beautiful stone and harden my heart so that the cruelty of the world, and its people, doesn't cause it to bleed and my tears to fall in a constant stream - even though I know that the chances of my winning are slim to none, I refuse to give in.

There's still a sliver of rose-colored optimism that won't let me give in. And sheer obstinacy that's hanging onto that optimism.

Perhaps I'm a fool, but I do love this crazy world.

Labels: musical interlude

being alone it can be quite romantic
like jacques cousteau underneath the atlantic
a fantastic voyage to parts unknown
going to depths where the sun’s never shone
and i fascinate myself when i’m alone

so i go a little overboard but hang on to the hull
while i’m airbrushing fantasy art on a life
that’s really kind of dull
oh, i’m in a lull

i’m all for moderation but sometimes it seems
moderation itself can be a kind of extreme
so i joined the congregation
i joined the softball team
i went in for my confirmation
where incense looks like steam
i start conjugating proverbs
where once there were nouns
this whole damn rhyme scheme’s starting to get me down

oh, i’m in a lull
i’m in a lull

being alone it can be quite romantic
like jacques cousteau underneath the atlantic
a fantastic voyage to parts unknown
going to depths where the sun’s never shone
and i fascinate myself when i’m alone

i’m rambling on rather self consciously
while i’m stirring these condiments into my tea
and i think i’m so lame
i bet i think this song’s about me
don’t i don’t i don’t i ?

i’m in a lull

Lull by Andrew Bird (from Weather Systems)

Labels: musical interlude

A man in my shoes runs a light
and all the papers lied tonight
but falling over you
is the news of the day
Angels fall like rain
And love - is all of heaven away

Inside you the times moves
and she don't fade
The ghost in you
She don't fade
Inside you the time moves
and she don't fade

A race is on
I'm on your side
And here in you
my engines die
I'm in a mood for you
Or running away
Stars come down in you
and love - you can't give it away

Inside you the times moves
and she don't fade
The ghost in you
She don't fade
Inside you the time moves
and she don't fade

Don't you go
it makes no sense
when all your talk
and supermen
just take away the time
and get in the way
Ain't it just like rain
And love - is only heaven away

Inside you the times moves
and she don't fade
The ghost in you
She don't fade
Inside you the time moves
and she don't fade

The Ghost in You by The Psychedelic Furs (from Mirror Moves)

While I've heard this song before, yesterday was the first time I'd actually listened to it (Chris Naze had an excerpt that intrigued me) and it brought to mind several of my friends, as well as myself, on occasion. Chris is right - it is the best heartache song ever.

BTW, before I receive concerned comments and e-mails, I'm not saying this is me right now. I'm fine. Just brought up a few buried memories and made me think of friends who have felt the same way. A slight emotional dip, perhaps, but that's all.

Labels: musical interlude

I've mentioned before my long-time, deep abiding love for the work of Stephen Sondheim. How all I have to do is put nearly any Sondheim show CD in the stereo, turn it on and fall into the words and the music as they lift me into an entirely different realm of beauty and pain and humor in a way no other composer's work can do to me.

Well, next week is his 75th birthday and to celebrate the gentleman who runs the music mailing list to which I belong is sending out a different Sondheim song each day this week, highlighting a different aspect of the strengths of the composer's music.

Yesterday he highlighted Sondheim's ability to wrench the soul with stunning melodies and simple, exquisite lyrics. He excerpted two songs from the Tony-award winning, yet seemingly underappreciated show Passion: Loving You and No One Has Ever Loved Me. I'm listening to the medley now and feeling my heart swell with the music, the notes and instruments and voices carrying me above myself as that too-tender organ is twisted and tossed about.

And I'm very happy I'm in a stronger place right now. Because if I had listened to this a year ago, or six months ago, it would have devastated me.

GIORGIO
(spoken) Fosca, you have to face the truth.
Please.
You have to give me up.

FOSCA
(sung) Loving you
Is not a choice,
It's who I am.

Loving you
Is not a choice
And not much reason
To rejoice.

But it gives me purpose,
Gives me voice,
To say to the world:

This is why I live.
You are why I live.

Loving you
Is why I do
The things I do.

Loving you
Is not in my control.

But loving you
I have a goal.
For what's left of my life...

I will live,
And I would die
For you.
-- LOVING YOU

GIORGIO
(spoken) The letter from Clara...

FOSCA
(spoken) Yes?

GIORGIO
(spoken) It's over. Finished.

FOSCA
(spoken) I'm sorry.

GIORGIO
(spoken) Sorry? I would have thought that you would be pleased.

FOSCA
(spoken) I don't wish to see you sad.

GIORGIO
(spoken) I feel so much... but I'm not really sad.

FOSCA
(spoken) I thought you loved Clara.

GIORGIO
(spoken) I did love Clara. I did. But...

(sung) No one has ever loved me
As deeply as you.
No one has truly loved me
As you have, Fosca.

Love without reason, love without mercy.
Love without pride or shame.
Love unconcerned
With being returned --
No wisdom, no judgment,
No caution, no blame.

No one has ever known me
As clearly as you
No one has ever shown me
What love could be like until now.

Not pretty or safe or easy,
But more than I ever knew.
Love within reason -- that isn't love.

And I've learned that from you...
-- NO ONE HAS EVER LOVED ME

Labels: musical interlude

I haven't had one of these for a while:

Grey is not the color I expected
On someone who is often touched by grace
The eyes that hold the promise of perfection
Will find the flaw that no one can erase
And though she hears the rumours of intention
And many times I've failed to hide my stare
She will not breach a hint of indecision
She will not ever bend to show her care

Things she said
Every other daystore promise
Things she said would leave me wanting
Run to her then run from other
Things she said
Broke me down and left me shattered
Hard as diamonds... It does not matter
Won't remember the things she said

Today I saw her face in all the papers
A smile to empty out a lion's cage
But notes that might remind her what that smile was for
Are scribbled on a long-forgotten page

Things she said
Every other daystore promise
Things she said would leave me wanting
Run to her then run from other
Things she said
Broke me down and left me shattered
Hard as diamonds... It does not matter
Won't remember the things she said

The choice she never made
The face she never saved
The words she would not say
The lives she threw away
And the things she said

So grey is not the color I expected
On one who is so often touched by grace
But always she's the spectre of uncertainty
I first endure, then pity, then embrace

Things she said
Every other daystore promise
Things she said would leave me wanting
Run to her then run from other
Things she said
Broke me down and left me shattered
Hard as diamonds... It does not matter
Won't remember the things she said

Things she said
Every other daystore promise
Things she said would leave me wanting
Run to her then run from other
Things she said
Broke me down and left me shattered
Hard as diamonds... It does not matter
Won't remember the things she said

Things She Said, by Toy Matinee (from Toy Matinee)

I've heard of Toy Matinee before, and even have the above song on a mix CD I received from a friend. When I first heard this song it saddened me because all I could think about was his prior pain (no, this isn't the song that brought me to my knees), but I didn't listen to all of the lyrics. Why, I couldn't tell you. Possibly a self-protective instinct.

For some reason, though, listening to the song today just sliced at my heart. Right now I'm listening to Toy Matinee's only album. It was one of the CDs from the Kenny Club and I thought, "Hey, why not?" At least, that's what I thought until I caught the lyrics, "The eyes that hold the promise of perfection/Will find the flaw that no one can erase."

The knife to the gut twists. Not sure why. It just does.

Who knew that several songs on the album would weigh so heavily on me? I certainly didn't. And Things She Said weighs heaviest of all.

Labels: musical interlude

Tu me demandes, qu'est-ce que j'ai fait?
Je t'aime entière
Mais je t'ai repoussée
De peur de te perdre
Je t'ai rejette, tant de fois et si bien
Que mon souhait
Est arrive, enfin
Et tu es loin de moi, si loin.
Quand je regarde dans tes yeux
Autrefois si confiants
Il n'y a pas de mots que je n'ai desacres
Tu me demandes qu'est-ce que je veux?
Je te veux entière
Je veux re-vivre a tes yeux
Te tenir dans mes bras, sentir ta chaleur
Tu es dans cette chambre avec moi
Mais si loin de moi, si loin
Qu'est-ce que j'ai fait?
Qu'est-ce que j'ai fait

Approximate English Translation
You ask me, what have I done?
I loved you totally
But I pushed you away
For fear of losing you
I have rejected you, so many times and so well
That my wish
Has arrived, finally
And you are far from me, so far.
When I look in your eyes
Formerly so trustful
There are no words which I do not have
You ask me, what do I want?
I want you completely
I want to live again in your eyes
To hold you in my arms, to feel your heat
You are in this room with me
But so far from me, so far
What have I done?
What have I done?

Qu'Est-Ce Que J'ai Fait (What Have I Done) by Anthony Stewart Head (from Music for Elevators)

No notes, no thoughts. Just enveloped in the music, living in it.

Labels: musical interlude

Sometimes I wish that I was an angel
A fallen angel who visits your dreams
And in those dreams I'd blow you a message that says
You really want me

Sometimes I wish that I was a wrestler
A Mexican wrestler in a red vinyl mask
And I might grab you, body slam you, and maybe cause
physical harm
But when we would land
I might take pity on you
I can crack all your ribs
But I can't break your heart

You will never love me
And this I can't forgive
That you will never love me
As long as I will live

Sometimes I wish that I was a beauty
A beautiful girl who was still 21
And I'd turn your head as well as your buddies
And I could afford to play hard to get
We'd go to parties and you'd show me off
And I'd go home with someone else

You will never love me
And this I can't forgive
And it will always bug me
As long as I will live
You will never love me
Why should I even care
It's not that you're so special
You're just the cross I bear

You will never love me

Mexican Wrestler by Jill Sobule (from I Never Learned to Swim)

The first time I heard this song I was walking down Sunset Boulevard, enjoying the February sun warming on my skin, the music playing in my ears. Initially I found the lyrics somewhat whimsical. Until Ms. Sobule sang the chorus.

At that point I nearly felt the wind knocked from me, my knees threatening to buckle. Had I not been walking down a very public street, I have no doubt I would have allowed myself to sink to the ground.

Yeah, this song hits me on several levels, one of which is probably obvious. Maybe I identify with music far too much.

Labels: musical interlude

How can I ask love to hold the mystery
When just look at me
It's all push and pull collateral
I don't want to be the one that gets the next surprise
I'll plan it out this time
Though I used to think that things were meant to be

Farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is working better now
It all was changing anyhow

I danced a lot of nights until the grass was wet
It wasn't over yet
Round bout 3 a.m. you made a friend
And I followed a lot of idle crazy thoughts because
It's where the meaning was
And I tried to find it every other way

Farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is working better now
It all was changing anyhow

So I can turn on the charm
And show them nothing more
Than what I've done before
Nothing much new
But it'll do
'Cause I don't wanna be the one who makes you laugh out loud
I want to make you proud
And you always said you knew what I could be

So farewell to the old me
Farewell to the old me
My life is working better now
It all was changing anyhow

Time and the old me
Farewell to the old me
Farewell

Farewell To The Old Me by Dar Williams (from The Beauty of the Rain)

There are songs you hear, you like, but for some reason you don't really listen to the words. Perhaps you're distracted by other, equally wonderful, songs on the disc. Perhaps your ears just aren't open to that song. Who knows the reason?

Months later you hear the song in a different setting, different context. You listen to the lyrics - really listen - and they strike your legs from under you. What you initially thought was a song about starting over is really a song about shutting oneself off from, not only the pain of the past, but possibly true happiness of the future. And it breaks your heart to hear it.

It doesn't help that other songs you hear on the same disc are equally heart-wrenching - taking that vital, tender organ that you thought was starting to heal and turning, contorting, buckling it, until you wonder how to untie the twist in it, or if that twist can ever be untied as the tears intrude upon your night fantasies, your dreams.

And you think, maybe it's time to turn off the stereo and fall back into the welcoming embrace of Morpheus.

Labels: musical interlude

Red lights are flashing on the highway
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight
Everywhere the waters getting rough
Your best intentions may not be enough
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don't come easy

I don't know nothing except change will come
Year after year what we do is undone
Time keeps moving from a crawl to a run
I wonder if we're gonna ever get home

You're out there walking down a highway
And all of the signs got blown away
Sometimes you wonder if you're walking in the wrong direction

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don't come easy

So many things that I had before
That don't matter to me now
Tonight I cry for the love that I've lost
And the love I've never found
When the last bird falls
And the last siren sounds
Someone will say what's been said before
Some love we were looking for

But if you break down
I'll drive out and find you
If you forget my love
I'll try to remind you
And stay by you when it don't come easy

When It Don't Come Easy by Patty Griffin (from Impossible Dream)

One hell of an artist is Patty Griffin. I'd heard about her for quite awhile, but it wasn't until I was given a mix CD by CuteNerdBoy that I'd heard her music. I loved that song, but it was the the next one (on another disc) that grabbed me and refused to let go. Still I hadn't gotten around to getting one of her CDs.

Until I received Impossible Dream for my birthday. From CuteNerdBoy.

As I listened to it I swore one of those songs would show up on Mix CD #7, but it was hard to narrow it down. Finally it was between two: When It Don't Come Easy and Useless Desires. For reasons that are now rather obvious, I chose the latter.

Just as well. Because CuteNerdBoy had chosen the former.

There are times I wish I had gone with When It Don't Come Easy, because the sentiment is one I often feel, but Traversing in Cobalt (while pretentiously named) is perfect the way it is. And lord knows I've often cursed my own useless desires more than once.

Labels: musical interlude

You go to my head
And you linger like a haunting refrain
And I find you spinning round in my brain
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne.

You go to my head
Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew
And I find the very mention of you
Like the kicker in a julep or two.

The thrill of the thought
That you might give a thought
To my plea casts a spell over me
Still I say to myself: get a hold of yourself
Can't you see that it can never be?

You go to my head
With smile that makes my temperature rise
Like a summer with a thousand Julys
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes
Tho I'm certain that this heart of mine
Hasn't a ghost of a chance in this crazy romance,
You go to my head.

You Go To My Head by Haven Gillespie & J. Fred Coots, as sung by Diana Krall.

No notes here. Simply an exquisite rendition of a beautiful song, one that found its way on Mix CD #5.

Labels: musical interlude

It's perfectly suited
This uniform grey
There are no bearings
To the day
I came down from the air
And I'll leave by boat
I'm down with your rainy town
Out on the spit
With the biggest port around
My friend is on the way
He's bringing my coat

Oh, you don't do what I want you to
But I haven't been
Through all you've been through
And we could use that
As an excuse
If that's what you choose
If that's what you choose

Well it was kinda hard
To pull away
He said "Buck up baby,
It's okay. The sunlight
On the floor will always fall."
And I meant to write it
On the plane
High above my earthly pain
But I slept right through
The flight and that was all.

Oh, you don't do what I want you to
But I haven't been
Through all you've been through
And we could use that
As an excuse
If that's what you choose
If that's what you choose

It's perfectly suited
This uniform grey
There are no bearings
To the day
I came down from the air
And I'll leave by boat
I'm down with your rainy town
In the spare room
With the biggest port around
My friend is on the way
He's bringing my coat
He's bringing my coat

Uniform Grey by Sarah Harmer (from You Were Here)

It's been a crazy busy week, both work-wise and socially: preparing for a vendor show in Anaheim; attending said vendor show with my reps and an Arnold Schwartznegger impersonator; going to the writing group after a long workday; being unofficially offered the position that I'm currently covering (my predecessor has decided to not return from maternity leave - once her paperwork is finalized mine will be started); preparing for and attending our monthly team meeting; hanging out with Sarriah and MidWestRoommate; preparing for and attending Modelgirl's baby shower today. And not as much sleep as I should have had with all of that happening.

But thus far the highlight of the week was Wednesday night. I had spent the long day with my sales reps at the aforementioned vendor show in Anaheim, starting with an early morning train ride to the Staples Center to meet NewYorkWriter, then on to the Citadel to pick up SanFernandoValleyRep (or SFVRep), then south to the Anaheim Marriott. Many hours of standing, pulling in prospective clients to have their photos taken with our Governator look-alike (the hit of the show), smiling until my face hurt and discovering - much to my chagrin - that I would probably make an excellent sales person. I was tired by the time NewYorkWriter dropped me off at my workplace, where I was scheduled to meet CuteNerdBoy at 6pm for dinner and Sarah Harmer.

So we met, went off to dinner at Hamburger Hamlet in Hollywood, had fun as usual. I was a bit flirty, but certainly nowhere near as shameless as at the RockerChick/UPSGuy party on Saturday. Indeed, there was barely any cleavage to be seen on Wednesday.

(As mentioned, I was at work earlier and even I tend to keep my cleavage reined in at work.)

Then off for a Sarah Harmer show at the Knitting Factory, which is nearly across the street from Hambuger Hamlet. It was the same place we saw Jonatha Brooke. It was a great show, despite having had our ears deadened by a "band" in the bar while waiting for the main doors to open and standing all night, through the opening act and Sarah's set. In fact, it was only because of my growing exhaustion and screamingly aching feet (and the woman screeching next to me until I moved to the other side of CuteNerdBoy) that I wasn't close to as emotionally drooping as I was at the end of Jonatha's show the previous month.

That and the fact Sarah didn't sing Capsized or You Were Here. I loved the other songs she sang, even the ones I was unfamiliar with because they're from her new album, which I have not yet gotten. But those songs fell into what CuteNerdBoy called the "play/don't play" category. As in, "I love those songs and hope she sings them, but if she does I'll be a total wreck and I don't know if I want to be a total wreck." At least, that's what it meant for me.

Anyway, it was a lovely night. It certainly tested my recent decision to behave as just CuteNerdBoy's friend (for some reason he looked even cuter than usual - maybe it was his scruffy stubble and slightly longish hair - that a look that I happen to adore on him, especially if he happens to pair it with a button-down shirt, which was not the case on Wednesday [it was New BookCrossing T-shirt night]). But despite the temptation he continues to be, the whole "just friends" thing I'm trying to embrace actually felt pretty comfortable most of the time.

Okay, maybe CuteNerdBoy doesn't "do what I want [him] to", but I think I might be okay with that.

Eventually.

Labels: musical interlude

when i heard about the coming day
wish i could wake up from the dream
in it i see a family photograph
and there you are, tucked in the scene

and there's a jealous net inside my chest
there's a hurt, a sadness there
maybe i'd tell you all about it
if i thought you'd care

heavy heart gets lighter by his side
but there are thoughts i wish i'd heard
if they ask you how i'm holding up
say i'm holding out for the words

what's the sense in being so sensitive?
can i trade this thin skin for a shell?
there are some things i've got no feeling about
but there are some things i can tell

heavy heart get lighter by yourself
it's been so long since you capsized
and you've been lying out there in the sun
has it begun?
has it begun?

heavy heart, have you heard?
i could use the words

Capsized by Sarah Harmer (from You Were Here)

Like a fair amount of the songs that find their ways onto my mix CDs, Capsized initially brought to mind thoughts of CuteNerdBoy and the hopes that the still slightly bruised sections of my heart would, soon, feel healed, whole again. But as I listened to the mix CD again - and again and again - I realized that its inclusion on the playlist, its emotional connection to me, wasn't related to my frequently jumbled feelings for that lovely, occasionally maddening man.

No, as the words echoed in my ears and played around in my head, there flashed before my mental retinas a non-existent image of my family from nine or ten years ago. And in that image, tucked in the corner, with his arm around me, a bright smile on his handsome face and happiness flashing in his blue eyes, was my long-ago ex, FG. I remembered my recent reaction to discovering his marriage, then my more extreme reaction, some months later, to discovering the identity of his wife. The shakiness, the heart palpitations, the shortness of breath. All for a man I no longer loved or wanted.

But if I no longer loved him, if I no longer wanted him, then why was I so shaken when I found out about his wife? Why did I sit at my desk at my last temp job, unable to continue working, unable to concentrate on anything except for that photo in that trade paper and his last name attached to the first name of my former friend? Had I been fooling myself all these years? Had I convinced myself that he was a past I no longer wanted in my present, when possibly the opposite was true? And was that the reason that I've been unable to find any kind of romantic relationship, let alone the sort of relationship that I want in my life?

I listened to the music again and again, allowed it to wrap around my heart, and realized the truth. It was a truth that I had certainly known for many years, one that I had never hidden from myself, but one that I had been reluctant to seriously consider:

I've never forgiven him for leaving me.

The three of us sat at the outside table in the cooling night air, laughing and having dinner and pulling cards to give us insight into our most compelling life questions. Boychik and Sarriah were grilling me about the best way to phrase my question. "No mention of the word 'future'!" Boychik cautioned.

Sarriah nodded. "If you act as if it's in the future, then that's where it will always be. Act as if you have it now and it'll become your present." I still didn't know how to phrase my question, but I was a little bit closer. We hashed it over a bit more until finally Boychik took the cards - his dream cards, a birthday present from me - and asked, "What does Carol need to do to make herself ready for a relationship?" He tried to cut the cards, but they caught on the table and one card practically leapt out. The text under the drawing of a heart read, "Forgiveness."

Boychik picked up the cards, made a motion as if he were going to try again, but Sarriah and I looked at each other. I stopped him, took the card, and considered it long and hard.

"Boy, that card pretty much leapt out, didn't it?" queried Boychik. I nodded.

"You need to forgive, Carol. Not just FG, but, much as I hate to say it, your father, too," said Sarriah. I glanced up at her, my hands feeling warm and dry and tingly curled around the card.

"I know, but I don't know how. I'm still angry and hurt and I don't think FG deserves forgiveness. So how can I forgive? And how can I ever forgive my father? He deserves it even less."

Therein lies the issue. How can I forgive an ex who proved to be a coward in the end? And why would I ever forgive my father, a man whose sickness, whose unwillingness to accept responsibility, lack of remorse and complete dishonesty tore my family apart? And who may be a danger to others?

To me, forgiveness has always meant that I understood the reason a person did what he did, could see his side of it and, possibly, see where I might do the same thing, were I in the same circumstances. People fuck up. It's just part of human nature. And sometimes those fuck-ups are understandable and worthy of forgiveness. And while I'm closer to understanding FG's actions than my father's, to this day I still have trouble understanding why he couldn't just tell me that he was unhappy.

Were I to forgive FG and my father, then I suppose there's a part of me that would feel as if I were condoning what they've done, that I'm acting as if the pain they caused really didn't matter in the end, when it's been a big part of shaping who I am at this moment in time, whoever that is. And there have been other actions by a few other men over the 38 years of my life which could be seen as unforgivable. Should I forgive them for what they've done to me, the damage they've inflicted? How can I ever let go of that anger and pain?

But.

If I don't, if I let the hurt and fury churn away at me, chipping away at my heart and my soul, then how could I have room in my life for the loving relationship I so dearly want? Will there be a heart and soul left to accept the love when it's finally offered?

I've been trying so hard to tell my "heavy heart get lighter by yourself" for so long, because it really has been "so long since you capsized and you've been lying out there in the sun." How much longer can my heart bear the harsh, unrelenting sun of my Taurean stubbornness, my anger, my pain? And how tired am I of thinking, "what's the sense in being so sensitive? can i trade this thin skin for a shell?"

A few evenings ago, on the night of the full moon in Scorpio, with a total lunar eclipse in the offing, I played some Enya on the stereo. I sat nude in front of my alter, performing what I like to call candlework. Anointing my candles with oil essence, burning incense, a beautiful egg-shaped white quartz stone sitting between the black and white candles. And, as midnight struck, I lit the candles and imagined being enveloped and penetrated by a bright cleansing white light. Words spilled forth from my mouth, beseeching the hurt and anger and all perceptions of betrayal to leave me, to make room for true forgiveness, so that I might have wonder and light and joy and love and all the positive energies that I desired in my life.

Yes, it seems strange to some people that I might do such a trippy la-la New-Agey thing, but while there is a hearty skeptic that resides in me, I also honestly believe in at least the psychological effects that such a ceremony might have. And I admit I honestly believe that all things in the universe are connected, all people and elements and energies are part of one another and, as long as I don't perform manipulative candlework, my efforts will bear fruit.

Maybe I'll learn how to finally forgive. FG will fade from the mental picture, the jealous net around my heart will finally lift and I'll be truly open to love again.

Hey, anything's possible, right?

Labels: musical interlude

I give you love but you won't take it
You flip your collar as you leave
The bicycles on cobblestones
The corner cafe all alone
They whisper, they whisper

"Don't let him take your love for granted
Don't think that he's the only one
There's more to love than keeping time
More to reason than the rhyme
So listen, just listen;

Less than love is nothing
And nothing is not enough
And more than anything
I wish you love
Less than love is nothing
And nothing is not enough
And more than anything
I wish you love, wish you love"

'Cause there might be love around the corner
These streets have seen it all before
They've seen every up and down
Every callous lucky clown
Mistaken, and sorry now

'Cause less than love is nothing
And nothing is not enough
And more than anything
I wish you love
Less than love is nothing
And nothing is not enough
And more than anything

I wish you well I wish you might
I wish you were alone tonight
I wish that I could leave the past behind
For once, I wish that love would last

'Cause nothing is not enough
and more than anything
I wish you love.
Less than love is nothing, less than love is nothing, less than love is nothing

Less Than Love Is Nothing by Jonatha Brooke (from Back In the Circus)

Not surprising that another Jonatha Brooke song has made its way to this page. After all, I did come back from a Jonatha Brooke show a little over an hour ago, though this song was not performed. I expected to enjoy myself, and to have my heart broken by those songs of hers that are exquisitely beautiful. Correct on both counts. I rocked out in my seat when I wasn't struck motionless by the numbers that reached into my heart and managed to yank at every nerve in my body from my chest. I didn't even know that feat was possible.

It's probably just as well that she and her band didn't play Less Than Love Is Nothing. I was stunned by songs such as Because I Told You So, Crumbs (this song brings back memories of 1997, which is when I first heard it on a mix tape, given to me by none other than CuteNerdBoy - I wish I knew what happened to that tape - it was my constant companion for quite a while), Everything I Wanted (what's that like? It's been years since I've felt that), Inconsolable (which had some incredible work by her guitarist - swooping, hesitant, timid and bold and indescribably heart-breaking - I felt had to grab hold of my fingers and hands and arms to keep from flying up and falling into the notes) and, surprisingly enough to me, God Only Knows and Fire and Rain.

When she did a second encore, just the keyboard accompanying her lovely voice on No Net Below, I yelled my delight - the only person that did - and proceeded to turn into an emotional puddle (with a minimum of tears, oddly enough). I leapt up with every one else for the third standing ovation, then fell into my seat, finding it difficult to move. It was only the movement of the people sitting next to me, combined with CuteNerdBoy's puzzled smile, that got me back on my feet.

Had she sung Less Than Love Is Nothing, especially with CuteNerdBoy there, I think I would have been a complete wreck. I've been given less than love - true, nearly unconditional love - for so long, thinking it's the norm. This despite having experienced such a love at least once in my life. Hearing that song at the end of Thursday, after waking up at 4am and a very busy work day and subsisting on little more than caffeine and sugar and adrenaline for most of the day and having a couple of dirty martinis during and after dinner? While sitting next to the one man since 1997 from whom I've wanted such a love, a man who can give me the unconditional love of a dear friend and nothing more?

I would have been a marionette with her strings cut.

All told, a fun dinner with CuteNerdBoy, as per usual (I was very silly throughout most of it and he was right there with me in most of my silliness, as per usual) and a terrific show with a fantastic singer/songwriter. As we drove back to my place after the show, I found myself nearly unable to speak. It seemed all I was capable of were little sighs and moans - nearly post-coital in nature - as I settled my head against the seat belt, floating down from the music.

And CuteNerdBoy greeted me as I opened the door by saying I looked very pretty. A girl always likes to hear that, even if music turns her into a shredded, mewling kitten by the end of the evening.

I think I'm ready for that safety net now.

Labels: musical interlude

It's that I leap and then I look
At all the chances that I took
Feel the air, miss the catch
Then I have to swing back

My timing's all wrong
And the ladder is gone
And all I can do, is
Swing 'til it's all net below
All I can do, is
Swing 'til it's all net below
And I can let go

I am not faint of heart
But I get weak in the knees
I am tired for the world
For the wind in the trees

But we'll still find the song
Though the ladder is gone
It's all we can do, is
Swing 'til it's all net below
Swing 'til it's all net below
And we can let go

And I'll still look you in the eye
It's the longest goodbye
I'll feel the air, make the catch
But I won't swing back
My timing is clear
And I'll never fear

I'll swing 'til there's no net below
Yeah, I'll swing 'til there's no net below

No Net Below by Jonatha Brooke (from Back In the Circus)

Have I mentioned before how much I love Jonatha Brooke? I have? Well, too bad. It's my 'blog and I'll rave repeatedly if I want to. I love Jonatha Brooke.

It's pretty well-established that I have a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't know how attractive that is, but I do know it's more than a little messy. A result of this tendency is my ability to swing on an emotional trapeze until such time as I think it's best to let go. Unfortunately, I tend to let go of that trapeze when there is absolutely no net to catch me. I can't begin to count how many times I've gotten a concussion that way (metaphorical, of course). And I can't help but wonder if there isn't a better way.

In a recent e-mail I asked CuteNerdBoy a question which I felt only he was truly qualified to answer. The totality of his answer gave me heart, certainly made me feel better about a number of things, but there was a portion of the e-mail which brought both a smile to my face and a bit of sadness to my soul.

In that portion (and I paraphrase) he said that, though he knows that I lead with my heart, which tends to get battered and bruised as a result, he couldn't counsel me to do otherwise, since 1) it's who I am and the chances are slim I could change that part of myself and 2) despite the bruising I'd get a fuller ride out of life and that I owe it to myself to experience life to the fullest.

I know that he's right, and I can't imagine being any other way, but sometimes a gal gets tired of the bumps and bruises. Still, back on that trapeze I'll go, because it really is all I know these days and I just can't see me turning back into the terrified little girl I once was.

And I say I'm not adventurous. *snort*

Labels: musical interlude

In this dream of life and death
I know so much I will forget
I know your body and your breath
I know your rhythm and your touch
I want you here
I want so much
I fear too much

Far too human to let go
I fight the river and the flow
I fight the love and the fear
I do not want to leave you here
In one body you appear
In this dream

I dream
And I still want so much
To touch the inside

I dream
And I still want to stay
Inside this dream with you

Now I know
That every dream begins with you
And ends in time
Now I know
That maybe I am too alive

If I could speak in tongues of flame
I'd burn forever with your name
And take it with me through all time
I would remember who you are
In every life I'd touch your heart
In every dream

I dream
And I still want so much
To touch the inside

I dream
And I still want to stay
Inside this dream with you ...

One Dream by October Project (from Falling Farther In)

Hauntingly beautiful with an almost poppy beat, the words and melodies and harmonies twine and meld within and around one another. Upon every hearing this song rips me apart anew.

Perhaps that's the reason that I can't listen to the CD I have that has this song very often. I listen to the lyrics and all I can do is imagine the emotions of the friend that introduced me to this band's music. It kills me to do so. I remember going through similar feelings once upon a time, back in the dark ages of 1997, and maybe again, just a little, more recently. All of these thoughts and emotions fuse together in my heart, cracking it open a little more, aching for my friend and for myself.

The CD in question has many more songs that help the pain to blossom. I love the music with every part of myself, but it hurts too much to hear. Maybe I am too alive.

And, so it would seem, is my friend.

Labels: musical interlude

I went home for Christmas
To the house that I grew up in
Going back was something after all these years
I drove down Monterey Street
And felt a little sadness
When I turned left on Laurel and the house appeared
And I snuck up to that rocking chair
Where the winter sunlight slanted on the screened-in porch
And I stared out past the shade tree
That my laughing daddy planted on the day that I was born

CHORUS
And I let time go by so slow
And I made every moment last
And I thought about years
How they take so long
And they go so fast

Across the street the Randol's oldest daughter must have come home
Her two boys built a snowman by the backyard swings
I thought of old man Randol
And his Christmas decorations
And how he used to leave them up 'til early spring
And I thought of all the summers
That I paced that porch and swore I'd die of boredom there
And I thought of what I'd give to feel another summer linger
Where a day feels like a year

CHORUS

Then the door flew open, and my mother's voice was laughing
As she called back to my daddy, "Come and look who's here!"
And I thought about years

Years by Beth Nielsen Chapman (from Beth Nielsen Chapman - Greatest Hits)

Oh, how I sometimes wish for such a home to go back to. Kind of impossible when, as a kid, it seems as if you're living in a new city every year.

Mind you, I wouldn't change most of my youth for almost anything. Being exposed to so many different areas of the U.S during my childhood (even in the limited fashion afforded by the military) was a terriffic learning experience.

Still, the thought of having roots somewhere, of having a family home to go back to, one that holds many milestones in its walls, is a very seductive one. The home that my family lived in for over ten years in Simi Valley (from 1987 to 2000) came closer than any before or after, despite my own dislike of the town.

It saddens me a bit that no such home exists any longer. That there's no familiar place we can congregate for family get-togethers, where we laugh about the failed paint color or remember when rose bushes were planted or marvel at the evolution of the garage. I now know that those memories were built on a foundation of lies, but the memories are very appealing nonetheless. That house was another symbol of the fracturing and reconstruction of our family, I suppose. One I'm sure I'll learn to move past. Eventually.

However, it has made me resolute about one aspect of my future. When I marry and have children, I want to live and love and raise my children in the same house. Of course I'll want to travel with my family, my someday husband and I taking the kids to new and exciting places so that they can experience the wonder of the world. But, after our vacations, our travels are done for that week or month or year, I want a home to come back to, one which holds mostly fond memories for the family I hope to help build. One where, once the children are grown, with little rugrats of their own, they can all gather for holidays and birthdays and just because.

I guess I just want my children to have the roots that I was denied as a little girl. And maybe spread new roots of my own, entwined with theirs and with the man I end up loving enough to marry, whoever he may be.

Labels: musical interlude

Original French lyrics:

Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal
Tout ça m'est bien égal
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
C'est payé, balayé, oublié
Je me fous du passé

Avec mes souvenirs
J'ai allumé le feu
Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs
Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux
Balayés mes amours
Avec leurs trémolos
Balayés pour toujours
Je repars à zéro

Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait, ni le mal
Tout ça m'est bien égal
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Car ma vie
Car mes joies
Aujourd'hui
Ça commence avec toi...

English translation:

No there's nothing at all
No, I have no regrets
Not the bad or the good I've been done
I don't care - it's all one
No there's nothing at all
No, I have no regrets
It's all paid, all forgot, swept away
I move on day by day.

All my souvenirs serve
Just to kindle a flame
The delights and the hurts
I won't need them again
My old lovers, their lust
All their trembling is gone
Swept away like the dust
I return to square one

No there's nothing at all
No, I have no regrets
Not the bad or the good I've been done
I don't care - it's all one
No there's nothing at all
No, I have no regrets
Because my life, and my joys
Spring anew
And it all starts with you.

Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien by Edith Piaf (from The Voice of the Sparrow: The Very Best of Edith Piaf)

Proof positive that one does not need a strong grasp of a foreign language to fall in love with a song. The music is stirring, starting out so strong that you think there's nowhere else it can go before it proves you wrong as it builds to its inevitable climax. And Piaf's voice, so unique, brings so much passion and conviction to the song you can't help but be carried away.

I think this song is going to become one of my theme songs. Because, despite anything bad or stifling that has occured in my life, I regret very little of it, because I've learned so much. That knowledge is invaluable.

(And no, this 'blog isn't going to contain just song lyrics from now on. I promise.)

Labels: musical interlude