Happy....

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Snow Blanket!

I have long held tight to my theory that snow is nature's way of curling up in a blanket, that snow is God laying down a blanket and enouraging the world to slow down and savor the quiet. Maybe I can hold to this theory because my home doesn't get six feet of snow, maybe I hold on to this because at most a foot of snow and ice each winter, Welcome to the lower midwest... the weather kind of sucks. I think I've held to this theory the most because every animal pauses and hunkers down with friends and family or their favorite thing when it snows and waits for things to settle. Birds stop flying, squirrels settle in with their favorite nuts, dogs grab their favorite bones and cozy up by the fire or close to their master's feet. Everything stops. Everything cozy ups. Even wool blankets get softer.
All day long it has snowed soft clumps of cold cozy. I've had one of the best views of it all day long. It's a slow snow so it hasn't built up on streets but we've got a few inches built up on bushes and lawns. 
After the last two weeks, I've needed a good reason to curl up with a good book, some good jazz and my favorite pet and blanket.

I haven't listed a song in a while, so there's the song that's been stuck in my head as of late...
Georgia on My Mind - Ray Charles  (I kid you not, Ray Charles is a genius. If you somehow don't have this, go buy it on iTunes NOW. I'm serious.)

Georgia, Georgia,The whole day through,
Just an old sweet song,Keeps Georgia on my mind

Yeah, Georgia, Georgia,
A song of you, Comes as sweet and clear,
As moonlight through the pines
Other arms reach out to me, Other eyes smile tenderly,
Still in peaceful dreams I see, the road leads back to you
I said Georgia, Ooh Georgia, no peace I find
Just an old sweet song keeps Georgia on my mind

Other arms reach out to me, Other eyes smile tenderly
Still in peaceful dreams I see, The road leads back to you
Georgia, Georgia, No peace, no peace I find, Just this old, sweet song
Keeps Georgia on my mind
I said just an old sweet song,
Keeps Georgia on my mind

You're busy wasting life...

My iPod is on another Hanson kick... we're up to ten Hanson songs in a row. I would take this as a sign that I have too much Hanson for a healthy shuffle balance, but it's not true. I'll go for days where I wouldn't hear a Hanson song unless I qued it up. Maybe my shuffle just sucks... either way the play list sounds awesome: Believe, Tearing It Down, Leave the Light On, Strong Enough to Break, I've Been Down, Blue Sky, Go, Got a Hold on Me, I Am, Use Me Up, My Own Sweet Time... I'm scared to find out what's next...

Little Victories

All the more lately... I am reminded of the fact that the Lord will provide and that I am ok.

She's gone

That does it. My car is dead. She's dead and about to be gone. I'm not a fan. Now was not the time for her to die. Not at all.

Critic

Life threw me some curve balls and I promptly set about over analyzing everything. A song about the circus became a song about life. A poem about a sunset became a poem about how people screw you over; a picture of an island became an isolationist movement. I want nothing more at this point than to listen to a song and not try to dissect it. I don't know that I have any music that doesn't have enough depth to it that I can't tear into it... wait... I've got some Hello Goodbye... that should be superficial enough. That’s like trying to bite in to a concrete wall of nothing.

Ask Rudolph and he won't steer you wrong

I am decidedly not in the holiday mood.  I put on a really good front. There's garland and candy canes at my desk, there's a Christmas tree in my living room and a Christmas villiage burried in my parent's basement. Somehow, in all of the decoration, I didn't wind up listening to too much Christmas music and music can seriously change your mood.
Life threw some serious curve balls at me this weekend and I have to find some way to balance back out. Christmas is among the least of my concerns right now. Between my car falling apart and apartment leases running out, I just don't see a whole lot of time for Christmas. Still everyone in my office seems to be feeling at least some of the spirit. Hopefully that will rub off of them and on to me just enough to feel like I had a Christmas this year.
Maybe I wont need luck. Maybe, just a little Snowed In and a little Josh Groban and I'll be in the mood. Just keep the misletoe far far away from me.

Quiet

I left my headphones at home. The silence is deafening. Mostly because as much as I wish it were, it's not actually silent. There's enough ambient noise here to drive me insane. Oh where are my headphones!

Unproductive

Today was an unproductive day. However, I have decided that it's high time for me to start working out more often. I'm so sore from the workout yesterday, but it's a good feeling. I've realized that I miss this feeling. I used to get this feeling every day while I was walking home from school or hiking across campus. Ever since I've been back in town I can't say that I've really felt the burn of pushing myself. I'm looking forward to feeling the burn again.

Song for the day : Kings of Convenience -Boat Behind

Book stores and pens

After two hours and selecting 8 novels I realized I hadn't picked up a single gift for anyone at the book store last night. So I headed off to the journal corner to pick up one for a gift. The funny thing is the thing I am most excited about getting was the one thing I keep telling people I don't want; another journal. I think I figured out why I'm excited and why I don't want one from someone else.
Journals are supposed to suit the person who's writing them. Journals I've received from other people suit them or suit their idea of me but they don't quite hit the mark. The one I picked up last night, soft green leather, with an imprinted Celtic cross, is me to a tee. The modern art stained glass journal I received when I was 21 was too much of a mess, the flower print I received when I was 19 was too large and imposing.
The last time I bought a journal for my self was the summer after my senior year, I was 18. I stared at a copy of that exact journal -one journal I never thought I'd see again- and, although I was on the phone with a friend, I gasped, stopped, and lost myself in the emotion I poured into that book. I was faced with the worst question. Do I buy a copy of that journal (the original was filled and then destroyed -burned, I believe- at least three years ago) and rewrite the year I want so badly to forget? Do I rewrite it with renewed perspective? Or - possibly the healthiest alternative - do I leave the journal I loved for one that I'll love now and write myself away from the past and in to my future? I must have asked the question aloud because my friend answered. "Get a new one. Move on. I'm trying to move on too. We don't need to relive that... again."
So I've got a new green leather journal. It's nice, but approachable. It suits me. I got my friend a journal too. It's striped, and more casual. It suits her. Hopefully, it suits all of her and not just my perception of her, but chances are when she finds the journal section of her book store she'll find one better.
 
My Heart - Paramore
I am finding out that maybe I was wrong/ That I've fallen down and I can't do this alone/ Stay with me/ This is what I need please
Sing us a song and we'll sing it back to you/ We could sing our own but what would it be without you
I am nothing now/ and it's been so long/ since I've heard a sound, the sound of my only hope/ This time I will be listening.
Sing us a song and we'll sing it back to you/ We could sing our own but what would it be without you
This heart, it beats it beats for only you/ This heart it beats, beats for only you. /This heart it beats, beats for only you./ My heart is yours. /This heart it beats, beats for only you./ My heart is yours.

Ever since I put your picture in a frame

A friend sent me a few pictures yesterday and I was struck by just what makes a great photo. There are pictures that are fantastic -true works of art- and there are the pictures that we cling to and would run back into a burning building for - these pictures rarely are worthy of art galleries. 
We tend to forget the beauty of pictures and the value of letters and music thanks to the instant access over the internet. 
But nothing has made me feel more valued or more loved than to know that my friends have pictures of us all in a frame, that they've hung on to hand written letters and that they dance to the songs we've shared. The letters aren't well written, the pictures are pretty bad, the songs are corny.

Picture in a Frame - Tom Waits
Sun come up it was blue and gold
Sun come up it was blue and gold
Sun come up it was blue and gold
ever since I put your picture
in a frame.

I come calling in my Sunday best
I come calling in my Sunday best
I come calling in my Sunday best
ever since I put your picture
in a frame

I'm gonna love you
till the wheels come off
oh yea

I love you baby and I always will
I love you baby and I always will
I love you baby and I always will
ever since I put your picture
in a frame

Re-evaluating

It's the end of the year, and friends and I have been talking. This seems to be the best time to slough off the old skin and bad relationships. All year long we make excuses and we take a load of crap from "friends" just because. At a certain point you have to figure out if it's a trend for that person, and if it's worth it to take the excuse. Maybe it's in the spirit of a new years resolution; maybe it's in the spirit of not wasting money on a gift for a person you won't talk to in a week, maybe it's in the spirit of preserving your own sanity. Whatever the nature of actually evaluating your friendships if we all did it more often maybe we wouldn't wind up being so hurt so often, and maybe we'd be better friends ourselves.

In the spirit of that, and some pretty bitter slaps in the face yesterday, the song for the day...
On My Way - Ingram Hill
I don't want your old letters, I don't want to be friends
I've had enough to last a life time, and I don't want to go again,
I don't have to find a reason, and I don't have to answer why,
Doesn't matter who is wrong here, I just want to see you cry.
On my way, I'll take the sunshine, on my way I'll take your dreams
On my way I'll say I'm sorry to no one but me.
So let your family know I'm leaving, lie to your girlfriends that you're well
Call and leave a crying message, I want to know it hurts like hell
On my way I'll take the sunshine, on my way I'll take your dreams
On my way I'll say I'm sorry to no one but me.
On my way, I'll be my own man, and I'll only please myself,
On my way, my pride's the only feeling I've got left.

Disappointing.

Ok... so the walk was disappointing. Small. Cold. But it was a good day.
The Christmas tree went up. I cleaned most of the house. Drew did dishes and  Von was all around awesome. I have to say, it was a great day with Von. She's been a blessing. It's good to know she's got my back, even when the rest of the world seems to have abandoned me. She's awesome.

And we're walking...

*Deep breath*  The second walk I've hosted will be starting in just under 2 hours. I am pretty well prepared, and have a hope -with reason to believe- that it will be at least twice as good as the last one. I am still nervous as hell.  I'm winging the speech. I'm assuming everyone who's coming has done this before. I'm gonna wing it. I'm good with words and making it up on the spot. Still I can't help but think that this is a mistake.
It's too late for anything else now.

Well, here it goes. If you're in the St. Louis area... come on over to the arch at 2. We'll start walking at 2:30. We'll meet at the corner of Market and Memorial.

Nerd love

Last night on the way over to my parents house for a hockey game and the first night of Hanukkah, my brother commented on a rather strange train of thought "I love the juxtaposition of loquacious and bombastic" and proceeded to refer to the OED. I paused, it was a brief pause. And all I could say before I launched in to a monologue about how much I love the irony of the word bombastic was "You have no idea how much nerd love I have for you right now for assuming I would know what you mean by referring to the OED". Trust me, I knew what he was referring. OED = Oxford English Dictionary. The OED schools the Merriam-Webster dictionary. The OED is a book of words. It's the story of every word in the English language. It's the end all of dictionaries.  And I want one. I would all but die for one. I've wanted one since I heard of it, and craved one since I've seen one and held volumes of it in my hand. Nothing quite replaces the feel of the soft leather binding, the gold trimmed onion skin paper, and knowledge of generations. Everyone who's met me or talked to me in December for the last five years -at least- knows that what I really want for Christmas is an OED. I doubt I'll own one for a long long time. You see the OED costs about $1,000. No matter how you dice that, it's the down payment on a car, a large chunk of student loans, or funds to buy a new wardrobe. It's hard to justify a thousand dollars on a dictionary. But, if you ever feel like you want to get me the best Christmas / Hanukkah present ever, drop a few bucks on a OED.

Happy Hanukkah guys. Believe me if the chicken my brother made is any indication, the Lord will be providing some awesome this year.

Dry.

The only bad thing about winter is that heaters dry out the air.  Hard core. Static has never been this bad. Add to that the freezing temperatures, and as my boss put it today "it feels like your skin is bein pulled off".

Shelter - Sherwood
Years spent out in the rain,
Thrown in the mud, Come dry us again
We've got nothing to show,
No where to go, Give shelter again
Throats are dry, Let us sing
Bones are cold, Bring us heat
Mountains high, Let us dream
Call us homeward again.

Muggy.

Why is it everyone is willing to buy me or sell me a coffee mug but no coffee? This is not fair. Well, I mean... it's not unfair... but... come on.

Blustery Blues or Joyful Jazz?

So the cold front moved in to the country. We really have to do something about this weather immigration from Canada.
I started my annual game of "Is that ice?" this morning. It's a game where as you walk you have to decide if that section of concrete is covered with ice or not. Sometimes you can tell, sometimes you don't know until you've fallen flat on your butt. If you stay standing you win. Fall you lose. Easy enough. So far, I'm winning. My boss is losing. (HA!)
Winter seems to bring me into my more obscure passions in music. I've put aside the rock in favor of classical, jazz and blues and Gregorian chants. It always starts off so innocently, a Bing Crosby movie. The next thing you know I've got Nina Simone and Diana Krall singing in the morning, The Irish Tenors and Vivaldi in the afternoon, and Tom Waits and Louis Armstrong in the evening.
Somehow this transition makes it a lot easier to deal with the fact that I'm freezing and stressed... 
hmm all I hear when I hear "stressed" is the strained staccato of the trumpet in Tom Waits "Midnight Lullaby"
Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye
Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying.
You can burn the midnight oil with me
As long as you will
Stare out at the moon
Upon the windowsill, and dream...

Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye
Hush-a bye my baby, no need to be crying.
There's dew drops on the window sill,
Gumdrops in your head
Slipping into dream land,
You're nodding your head, so dream...

Dream of West Virginia, or of the British Isles
'Cause when you are dreaming,
You see for miles and miles.
When you are much older, remember when we sat
At midnight on the windowsill,
And had this little chat
And dream, come on and dream,
Come on and dream, and dream, and dream.

It's beginning to feel a lot like...

winter.
It's a blustery 30 degrees outside. WINDY.  and COLD.
I sit relatively warm, in my office with a giant freaking window and can watch the snow build up while I'm supposed to be working. It's quite the view. Grey sky over grey buildings and tiny white specs like the world's reception has gone fuzzy. I'm sure every other adult in the office is lamenting what traffic will be, and is complaining about the dismal sky. 
For me though, this is what I live for.

I am reminded of my years in college and the drive across the state to get up north to Northwest Missouri State. There are tons of nearly deserted two lane highways that take you through small towns, over hills and wind you around farms. I almost always found a way to make this drive at night. I could plan to leave home at 6 am and wouldn't wind up making it out the door until sunset. Countless times I managed to leave St. Louis just barely in time to make it to my first class the next day. My favorite drive was on a January evening. I was the only car on the road for miles and in the deep dark of a Missouri night it snowed heavy lumpy snow. 
There is a sense of quiet peace when it snows, as if the world collectively grabs the blankets and cuddles up with a cup of hot coco and a good book or turns on the radio for quiet session of the Prairie Home Companion.
Song for the day: At Christmas (you guessed it) Hanson.
"Snow's falling down as you step out of your car
Present in you arms and you've traveled far
Someone opens the door with a smile on their face
And you know you've come to the right place

Family nestled by the fire
Christmas hopes to inspire
Loved ones by your side
You know you'll kiss your babies goodnight..."

Is it January, yet?

There's a deep breath before the holidays. A moment where every thing rushes in on you and the whirlwind surrounds every tiny project that you need to complete before the end of the year. A deep breath in. And the world holds its breath.

That's where I am. I'm in the middle of running to prepare, running to figure out how to make it all work. And now I've done all I can and I just have to wait. I have to just pause and wait for the calendar to catch up with me and tell me if it will fall into place. I'm not sure how it will. The schedules are so busy. The deadlines at work and due dates on bills and Christmas presents just don't want to work together.

That is -I think - the magic of the holidays, the world starts breathing again. You get to exhale. And if it worked, fantastic! If it fell apart, well, you have a story to tell next year when it does work. But regardless, we're breathing.

There's so much going on that to start to tell the details of any one thing would invite the world of crazy in on me, but there's a line in Sherwood's song "Not Gonna Love" that goes "I am a favorite in a fight that I can't win, so every morning I take another on the chin, but I never know what round I'm in." And that is my theme for the week.

Jack Frost nipping at your nose

What is it about cold that actually hurts when it hits you? I'm sure there's a scientific rational for it. I'm sure.

My office is pretty much constantly cold. The front door doesn't seal all the way, so there is a draft in the foyer, and the only thing that seperates the foyer from me is a window... a sliding window with no insulation. It's drafty and cold. This I've grown accustomed to. I wear an extra jacket at pretty much all times. I have a blanket I curl up in, my boss is going to get  me space heater for Christmas, the matienance guys are looking at fixing the door (also a Christmas pressent?) This cold doesn't bother me that much any more. 
Walking into the hallway, though, there was a slight breeze of cool air and I felt every inch of my body twich in pain. The cold, the air, sent chills through me that literally hurt. I wanted to drop to the floor right then and curl into a ball to warm up.  That would have been completely pointless, because the breeze would continue to chill me.

I think that it has to do with the fact that cold is just the absence of heat.  Cold is the absence. And absence hurts.

Oh scientifically the pain is due to the contraction of blood vessals to control the flow of blood to your skin to maintain a constant central body heat... 

But the lingering feeling of loss that comes with that chill, that's from the absence.

My Own Sweet Time - Hanson (someday I'll pull out a song not Hanson... but my ipod has decided the first 16 songs of this "Shuffle All Songs" play list should be Hanson... well ok then.)

Hello, goodbye my friend
Feels like the start all over again
But I'd rather not pretend
There aren't things still left to mend
Somebody break my fall
I'm slipping down all over again

I'd do it all over
Taking my own sweet time
I may make it slower
But I'm taking my own sweet time
I'm taking my own sweet...

Tell me where I begin
You can't deny what's already been
I won't break but I can bend
Shaping the scars that I can't mend
Feel your fingers around my throat
There's nothing but bones beneath my skin
Somebody break my fall
I'm slipping down all over again

I'd do it all over
Taking my own sweet time
I may make it slower
But I'm taking my own sweet time
I'm taking my own sweet...

I'd do it all over
Taking my own sweet time
I'm taking my own sweet time
I'd do it all over again, my friend

Say my friend
You know I'd do it all over again...
Again

Hello, goodbye my friend
Until we start all over again
Somebody break my fall
I'm slipping down all over again

I'd do it all over
Taking my own sweet time
I may make it slower
But I'm taking my own sweet time
I'm taking my own sweet...

I'd do it all over
Taking my own sweet time
I'm taking my own sweet...
I may make it slower
But i'm taking my own sweet time
I'm taking my own sweet time
Over again
Ahhh do it all over
Hello goodbye my friend
Until we start all over...
Start all over again
Say do it all over again
Do it all over
Hello goodbye my friend
Until we start all over
Start all over
Oh i'll do it all over again
You know i'd do it all over again

Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do(until it fades)

In Memoriam

It's finally starting to feel like Christmas... and I'm loving that. It's snowing as I type this. I got wrapped up in the Gaither Vocal Band last night, and in Bing Crosby's "White Christmas". If this isn't Christmas I don't know what is. 
I'm headed back to my bed tonight and while not living with my parents is a boon, I'm not really looking forward to it. The parent's are back from Nebraska, and I'm headed by to my apartment after watching the dogs all week. It's been a blast and I really, really, (no seriously, I really mean it, really) like living by my self. I like being able to watch whatever I want with out comment from a roommate or to be able to make whatever I want for dinner, with no regard to anyone else, and I love not being aware of anyone else's bed time.

Someday I'll be on my own... someday...

In Memoriam - Everybody Else
Took a sip from a bottle of orange soda

Suddenly you were back
On my bike years ago
While sharing the camera
You passed by, so quickly

I remember you
So remember me
As i was back then
In my ripped blue jeans
Moments ago
It seems to me
That we were just kids
In a memory

I still see the blue, sunken barge
Down by the shore and i
Can taste the blackberry juice on our fingers
But there’s an echo of careless, callow footsteps
That run by so quickly

I remember you
So remember me
As i was back then
In my ripped blue jeans
Moments ago
It seems to me
That we were just kids in a memory
In a memory

It feels good to forget how wonderful it was
In the noise of a crowd
But sometimes cars in the night
Sound like the ocean and
Then i swear
I'm back there
Seems so real
It disappears

I remember you
So remember me
As i was back then
In my ripped blue jeans
Moments ago
It seems to me that we were just kids in a memory
Moments ago
It seems to me
That we were just kids
In a memory
Moments ago
It seems to me
That we were just kids in a memory
In a memory
In a memory

So I claim this post for Dec 5th. I haven't been to bed so I think it still counts although it's clearly the 6th.  I sit here at the computer surrounded by literature, published and not, medieval and modern, epic and brief. I can't think of anything more fitting for this day. It was a day I spent trying to avoid life at most any cost save a visit from my brother. The notion of sleeping, of crashing in bed for long after the time that I woke was one I wanted to savor. Now I find myself not wanting to find the bed because it will make this short week all the closer to ending. So I've surrounded myself in literature to keep my mind entertained as my body starts to cry for the bed.

It's a bittersweet balance.

Song of the day: Make It Through - Sherwood


I know exactly where you are
So I don't strain to see your light shine in the dark
But I didn't know, the winter cold would leave us moving so slow
And will summer bring the feeling back to our toes?
Until it does can I just make it through?

Cause I don't know where I've gone wrong
And I can't find where I belong without you
Make it through
Cause I don't know where I've gone wrong
And I can't find where I belong without you

I'll weave the roads on every map
Into a cord that wraps you up and pulls you back
Cause I didn't know, the winter cold would leave us moving so slow
And will summer bring the feeling back to our toes?
Until it does can I just make it through?

Cause I don't know where I've gone wrong
And I can't find where I belong without you
Make it through
Cause I don't know where I've gone wrong
And I can't find where I belong
Oh I can't find where I belong, without you

Unrequited Love...

So I've mentioned my writing to a few of my friends... and I've been able to dance around really sharing much so I thought today would be a pretty fitting day to throw a few more out there, so they can tell me I'm awesome and mean it... :) I mean... they can tell me what they think... this means you...honestly.

Unlucky Fates-
We sit at mahogany tables
gods and goddesses circle above
Chilled to the core
From the wind of their golden wings.
Whispers of wit and wine settle into our ears
Entertaining thoughts of fire places and knightly battles
Too close to Olympia yet dying in Hades
We lay in the cradle of demigods
with manure in our beds.

Hello - Goodbye
The thought crosses my mind that you're gone
But you infiltrated every thing
All the little things
Highways, songs, notebooks
Your voice, your name
Just the same as the last day,
Just the same as the first day
The moment you said hello
I was looking for goodbye.
People generally find what they're looking for
So I'll give you back your blanket
And give me back my games
Give me the goodbye I've wanted and end it.

Card Exchange
It's not that we're dying...
It's that you're not trying.

The Christmas card family is
Melting in the fireplace
While he sits there watching her
Kissing the lips on a strangers face.
Desperate to hear a word from the other side of the table
As if a breath could make her a happy wife
He leaps at the sound of her breathing and if he's able
He clings to her lips as she breathes her way out of his life.

Rain in Iowa
Rain drops fall slow but steady
Wise men say they'll fall all evening
That they're falling over you already
The world cries for you leaving.

Still I hold on to your jacket
As though you'll come for it
I curl up in our bed under heavy blankets
Smother out the pain forsaking comfort.

Friends bring over coffee cake
And summer sausage casseroles to feed no one.
So with Nature, I cry tears to fill your lake
I am left to mourn now to Avalon you've gone.

Otherside of the World...

It's been a while since I've cried.  Really cried, cried so hard I couldn't breathe.
It's been a while since I've laughed. Really laughed, laughed so hard I hurt.
It's been a while since I've relaxed. Really relaxed, relaxed so much I melted.
It's been a while since I've been mad. Really mad, mad enough to punch.

It's been a while since I've felt. I've been pretty wrapped up in a state of constant stress and annoyance for well over a month now. Thanksgiving (at work and at home) is always loaded down with expectations and stress. It is not my holiday. It is awkward and uncomfortable. It's a big giagantic Sunday dinner with added demands and family drama.
So I've been a bit numb to pretty much anything other than this stress until last night.
I got home to find my brother there. I had been looking forward to a night alone, to embrace my own dorkiness and an early bed time.  I went straight from agrivated to mad. 
We wound up watching the Muppets and I laughed on of those full body laughs.
He left and I wound up checking my voice mail and I stumbled on a concert call from a friend... and I cried. Blubbering waste of energy cry.
And then I took a deep breath and relaxed. Curled up on the bed and read Beowulf.

I haven't had a night that emotionally draining and fulfilling since October.

So todays song, is the song from the concert call, Song To Sing - Hanson.
Goodbye four leaf clovers
Hello gone awry
Don't cry the fight ain't over
Unless you let it pass you by

I'm looking for a song to sing
I'm looking for a friend to borrow
I'm looking for my radio
So I might find a heart to follow
I've never been just longing for your loving
I've never been just wearing down to nothing
I've never been just looking for a reason
So that maybe you'd be thinking of me

All that I have found in reason
Is reason just to not believe
When all that you're left is treason
It's treason just to let it be

I'm looking for a song to sing
I'm looking for a friend to borrow
I'm looking for my radio
So I might find a heart to follow
I've never been just longing for your loving
I've never been just wearing down to nothing
I've never been just looking for a reason
So that maybe you'd be thinking of me

Blue yonder dreams and second hand shoes
You're so far gone that you live to close
And it's too late to go home all alone
You're the tar in that old cigar
And the worn out cable on a cable car
And you're too tired to admit you've got to chose

I'm looking for a song to sing
I'm looking for a friend to borrow
I'm looking for my radio
So I might find a heart to follow
I've never been just longing for your loving
I've never been just wearing down to nothing
I've never been just looking for a reason
So that maybe you'd be thinking of me

Tiny pick me ups

Long and tough day... and it was all made better by a Werther's Orginal. Mmm a small moment to breathe and enjoy the tiny candy I forgot I had in my desk.

"You can't buy a can of spam with a metaphore"- SA

Even on World AIDS Day, I was finding the hope for and the encouragement for action to change the problems of AIDS and poverty in Africa hard to find. Oh, people were all about the talk, but not the walk. Disgruntled and a little discouraged (but not defeated, never defeated) I wandered into my living room and flipped on the Colbert Report. He had, as his guest, Sherman Alexie.
For those of you who aren't familiar, Sherman Alexie is a Native American (Spokane/Coeur d'Alene) writer who's written tons of awesome books. He gives glimpses into what it means to be a Native today, and how that culture struggles to survive in today’s technological fast paced world. He is the voice to the opportunity cost of progress.

I suggest taking a brief moment out of your day to check out either Alexie’s site or his appearance on Colbert. Never before have I seen Colbert bested, close, but never bested, until last night.

Last night, Alexie stood up for culture, the culture of story telling, specifically. I'm not talking about sitting around a fire and telling stories, we're talking about a community joining together to embrace a story, people stopping to savor a book, or a poem, or well written newspaper. There was a time where -believe it or not- people would get together with their friends and share poems and stories they'd written as a popular form of entertainment. There was a time when a poet was respected, when our culture might not have kept every writer fed but it was no disgrace to choose the written word for a life plan. That same culture demanded that the writers know how to write, that they be well read, that they stuck to some basic rules of grammar, that they didn't spell "car corner" "kar Korna". That culture which was a common thread between all cultures -all Native tribes, English, French, Chinese, Russian, German, Indian, Swahili- is in a state of decline and on the verge of being lost to a world of poorly written 140 character posts.

Tell me how much can be said in 140 characters and spaces or less. Tell me how long those words stay with you. Tell me everyone in your neighborhood identifies with those words. Tell me you discuss a blog over coffee. Tell me a zest for words and a flourish to a story can be loved and not mocked as melodramatic. Tell me English majors aren't the only ones who don't laugh a poetic venture. Tell me Alexie isn't fighting a losing battle.


Song for the day: Skywatcher by Xanadu
And the sun sets over the trees,
and the clouds roll in before dark
The skywatchers shows them all
as the darkness comes on in. Right on in.
The stars they fill the sky
The moons they fill his eyes
He is sitting in the medow
Watching the satelights
He's the sky watcher
He's the sky watcher
Watching the sky falling away
Watching the clouds move on for another day
He's the sky watcher
He's the sky watcher
The sky it turns its colors
For the night is setting in
Sky watcher takes his place
For his heart is lost in space
People never knew what he does
They never did
They just laugh and call him names
Until the sky began to rain
You see, he knew there was something more
He knew they wouldn't understand
Never had a normal life to love
Received his life from the sky above
He's the sky watcher
He's the sky watcher
Watching the sky falling away
Watching the clouds move on for another day
He's the sky watcher
He's the sky watcher

World AIDS Day...

"To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world".




Ah! December first! My day to breathe! Yes, November is over! Now to settle in for Hanukah and Christmas and the winter solstice!

Wait... December first... isn't there something going on today?

*think think think*

World AIDS Day! Duh!



All year long -I can honestly say that- I have been walking for AIDS treatment. I was walking in Tulsa in May, in St. Louis in July, in Tulsa, St. Louis and Minneapolis in October. I've been buying shirts and trinkets and making donations across the board all year long and today the whole world is going to join this quest! How exciting! How hopeful!

*Sigh*

There's still more work to do.



I woke up this morning and after a brief fight with my alarm clock, I though "hmm...December 1st... AIDS Day... and I'm hosting a walk in two weeks... two weeks... CRAP!"

I hadn't sent in final information about location and times to takethewalk.net. I hadn't started telling ANYONE about the walk. Two weeks and I've done close to nothing. I'd been so wrapped up in Thanksgiving preparations for work and family and trying to breathe and stay sane that I completely forgot that I had something planned. "I'll get to it later" I kept thinking. No, I didn't.



I set straight away to sending out the information needed.

And, so long as the fates are with me, I'll be hosting a Walk under the St. Louis Arch Dec 13th at 2pm.

But the fear of yet another tiny ineffective walk is weighing on me. I've hosted a walk before... we had six walkers, myself included. Granted it was JULY, and it was HOT, and HUMID. But I vowed then that the next one would be better.

But I haven't set this up well at all.

While I was feeling a bit like a colossal let down, a friend had a round about way of picking me up. (Thanks Michelle.) Somewhere along her own laments, I was reminded of an old quote...so old I don't have the slightest clue who said it. "To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world".



I may, in fact, be on the path to yet another tiny walk, and I may yet again feel as though I've done virtually nothing for this cause, but even if there's only two walkers, we've helped some one else. We've impacted the life of someone else, we may even save. We may actually be the hope for life for someone. That's no small thing. Even if that's all that I can ever claim to have done, I've walked a mile, I've been the action of hope. I may never physically comfort a child dying of aids, or treat an ailing mother, but I've taken some action to change their fate.



To quote Taylor Hanson: "You just have to keep going. So there weren't hundreds of people. You still made a difference. You're still making a change: keep going, keep learning, keep fighting, keep walking. Then make the next mile better, and walk another."


So today's song as odd as it is...

Hope It Comes Soon - Hanson.
Well I hope it comes now, Well I hope it comes soon,
Well, I think it’s about time I stopped waiting for you.

You know, there’s no where else to pass the buck, this time.
We run every time it’s getting rough,
cause there’s no where to hide,
it’s hard just making it by,
but I’m tired of toeing the line.

Feels like a change is gonna come. Feels like a change is gonna come.
Well I hope it comes now,
Well I hope it comes soon,
Well, I think it’s about time I stopped waiting for you.
Well I hope it comes now,
Well I hope it comes soon,
Well, I think it’s about time feels like change is coming.
Well I hope it comes soon.

Step back look at where we’ve ended up this time.
Are you satisfied getting by with just enough
or are you ready to start trying?
Somehow we’ve been making it by,
but I’m tried of toeing the line.
Feels like a change is gonna come. Feels like a change is gonna come.
Well I hope it comes now,
Well I hope it comes soon,
Well, I think it’s about time I stopped waiting for you.
Well I hope it comes now,
Well I hope it comes soon,
Well, I think it’s about time.

Feels like change is coming soon.
Well I hope it comes soon.
I’m not waiting for you.
Feels like a change is gonna come.
Feels like a change is gonna come.
I hope a change is gonna come,
what you gonna do?
I hope it comes soon;
I’m not waiting for you.

It's how late?

It's past two am. I'm still up and I have to be at work in less than four hours. I did this yesterday too... I will burn out at some point right? Right...
But I'm up all night reading other people's writing and I've realized that I haven't touched my own. There in lies the problem with being a writer... I will eventually have to edit my own work.

Blog Every Day December... maybe...

Oh November rolls to a close.


The holidays no matter how you feel about them are here. Thanksgiving came and went and I was thankful that it was over. My Thanksgiving the way I want to celebrate it was Saturday, a day with family and good food, and hockey. Ah, that was the holiday. Turkey day... not so much, it was insanity, and emotional!

Still, the Holiday cards are in at work, the Christmas tree is up, the dreidels are out and my menorah quest is on yet again.

The air has finally started to crisp. This has been an amazingly mild fall. Rainy, yes, but warm.

Nanowrimo was a colossal failure, unless of course, I can write a novel between now and the start of the hockey game... I don't have high hopes.

So we look forward to December and the challenge to "Blog Every Day December" perhaps I'll stick to this one. I'll have enough to talk about, and maybe just maybe I'll want to remember this December for something...



Lyric for the day:
Free- Sherwood

Something's wrong, wrapped up in mourning for far too long.
Sunken eyes tracing the pavement and crooked lines
Paint us with crosses and sleepless nights,
In hope to be free.
We just want to be free.
Oh to be free.
Who's gonna set us free?
Over grown, all our mistakes are the seeds we've sown.
Is it time? I saw the stones rolling back their eyes,
holding their breath until they see the light.
In hope to be free.
They just want to be free.
We just want to be free.
Who's gonna set us free?
With our golden hair in silence sway,
We'll be home when brother finds his way.

Wednesday Morning - Simon And Garfunkel

I came to the realization this week that I am neither as old as I feel or as young as I wish I were. I'm sure everyone comes to this realization at some point in their twenties. We're no longer children but we're not quite our parents yet. My life can not be abbreviated into a two sentence conversation, but it's not an hour long ramble either.

Last night the family gathered for the funeral of one of my favorite Aunts. A sad day indeed. But as we made the rounds, aunts and uncles who I had always found entertaining have lost their shine, and others who were always a bit mundane are comrades in arms. Cousins I used to skip past now find comfort in conversations and old buddies are a bore. I'm not as easily entertained by short quips. There's a depth to my life that I didn't notice develop and the familiarity I expect to have with "family" isn't there.

Somewhere a long the line, my cousin and I noticed that we don't really know many of the people in the room, and that thought terrified us. We're family, aren't we supposed to have inside jokes and not have to ask for updated when we see each other at weddings and funerals? Aren't we supposed to just have our cousin's phone numbers?

Well, we are. But we don't. We grew up and grew apart because one day a year isn't enough to sum up all that's happened and we don't live in highlight reels.

The lament led to a discussion about our immediate family, I don't talk to my brother enough. Well, he doesn't talk to me enough. Well, neither one of pick up the phone enough. And both of us are tired of struggling through conversations.

So before I get any older and start trying to summarize my life when talking to my own brother, I'm picking up the phone.

He better answer.

On The Rocks - Hanson

Oh what little did I know that Hanson/HelloGoodbye tour dates would be posted yesterday. I assumed they would be up later this week, but Monday? That's just amazing.

The insanity began already with people rushing to get in touch with friends they haven't seen in months to see who can stay with whom and who can car pool with whom to the next show. Flight arrangements, hotel arrangements and the like are already made. I think Hanson fans can make a strong argument for being event planners. Not only do we arrange the travel of our own and friends across the country we do it all under the limitations of work and school schedules and various budgets. Some friends have already been discounted as lost causes while other friends who usually can't be relied upon are stepping up to the plate. The beauty of tour, we are all for this month, sisters with a common mission. Musical bliss and avoiding the insanity.

The tour this year is the "Use Your Sole" tour. A nice twist on words.


Lyric for the day: Early in the morning I am reminded how few things change, we've been through it every time it's the same old phrase. Never should have said it, but you should know what I ment to say, so we're back on the rocks, we've been here before will it ever stop? I've tried to change, but we're gonna fight so we can make it right.
Living in the moment we fight the thought of the everyday, monday morning in twenty twenty it seems so clear. Even though I see it, give into weakness and wind up here. So we're back on the rocks, been here before will it ever stop? I've tried to change but we're gonna fight so we can make it right. I'm not giving up.
I'm not giving up. If I give in to reason then I'd stop believing and just move on, I can't move on. So we're back on the rocks, we've been here before will it ever stop, I've tried to change but we're gonna fight so we can make it right.
I like it on the rocks. I'll take it on the rocks. So we can make it right.

Believe

What a long week! What a longer weekend! But truer words have never been sung. This kind of life I just can't afford. So as usual it will be a quiet week living vicariously through the tales of others. But at least I'll get some sleep for once.

Ne me Quitte Pas!

A little French in honor of Bastille Day!

Saturday was a busy crazy day, full of lazy day activities but there was always something going on!

Saturday morning Mom came over and took the Walk with me and Von in Tower Grove Park. Takethewalk is an organization that encourages people to take simple actions to create a large impact in someone else's life. We hear all the time about the huge problems of AIDS and poverty but because the numbers are so huge and we're so far removed from the location we shake our heads and go on with our lives, relegating the problem to governments that are too tied up in red tape to do anything about it. But if we go out and DO something. If we look at the situation and realize that we can help even a handful of people then the problem isn't as huge, if we're all taking charge of helping five or six people (because it doesn't cost that much to save a life $1.50 a day for a month will provide the medicine a woman needs to prevent passing AIDS on to her unborn child. Total cost to save that life $45. )
But it takes us doing something to help. It takes us donating to the largest hospital in the world. It takes us paying for a months worth of communication between doctors and patients. It takes us buying a pair of shoes so that company can put a pair of shoes on the feet of a child who doesn't own any. It takes us buying a water bottle from the Blood:Water Project so they can drill a water well so a child doesn't have to walk ten miles to get water. It takes us buying a shirt so a school can be built that will give children a lifeline to a safer, healthier life so they can lift up their family and pay it forward.
The amazing thing about takethewalk.net is that you already see, already know, that the little things we've done have added up. Since 2005, the collective actions of thousands doing small things (purchasing a $1 download, buying a pair of Toms Shoes, etc) have already funded a school that will help end the cycle, we've put shoes on the feet of 50,000 kids, we've given over 250 babies the chance to see their third birthday. This isn't the work I've done, I've helped but it's the small actions of thousands that's made a huge difference in lives of others.
Africa and AIDS isn't a daunting thought anymore. Africa and AIDS is an achievable goal. That's awesome. So Take the Walk.

After the Walk, Mom Drew and I went to Soulard market. The Farmers Market is a staple of St. Louis. It's one of the things that makes every foodies to do list when they're in town. I see why. We happened upon it on Bastille day so the flea market feel was all the more robust. Soulard Park was home to the Bastille Day Festival, complete with live music and more shops. We didn't stick around for that, but were glad to pick up on the extra hype at the Farmer's Market.
Bastille Day has been an topic of confusion apparently. I forget not everyone took French in high school and that not every one is from (and relishes the fact) a French colonized city. Bastille Day is the day the French stormed the Bastille Prison (home to political adversaries and reformers who King Louis XVI felt were a threat) and freed the prisoners. The storming of the Bastille marked the beginning of the bloody French Revolution. The French Revolution brought new fame to guillotine used to behead French royalty, nobility and their sympathizers.
But Drew picked up three bags of veggies and breads on this day for less than ten dollars, so I'm enjoying the thought "Let them eat cake" because it looks like our cake will be Zucchini bread! Yum!

Mom went home, and Drew and I went out for dinner at the City Diner. Then we headed out to Walmart where I ran into a college roommate of mine, Zee. Surprisingly, Zee moved to St. Louis and had been meaning to look me up... but we saw each other in the parking lot at Walmart. Funny because that's where I seem to meet a lot of my friends. Drew and I proceeded to shop for cookie supplies and kick knacks for the living room so that I can claim a corner in the name of me. I still haven't quite figured that one out yet... but I think I have a plan...

Headed home, I fell in love with Castle Crashers a game on Drew's X Box and I spent a good deal of time playing on Sunday too. We had a random cleaning fit around 10 and when three am rolled around the thought "hey we should be sleeping" jumped out at us and we gave up for the night.

Sunday was another day for cleaning and we took the opportunity to crack open the windows and enjoy the thunderstorms.

Viva La Revolution!

Rockin' the Suburbs

My right ear is still ringing.

Went to the Paramore/ No Doubt concert last night with Von. It was amazing. Paramore was better than I was assuming they would be, but as usual if you go in with low expectations.... So I was impressed.

No Doubt was truely awesome. Gwen is an awesome showman, and the rest of the band keeps up, together it was a show that was worth every cent I paid to go and sweat my butt off in this heat. I was amazed by how much of their music I closely associated with my youth. I mean, it's No Doubt... I knew I know a lot of their stuff and I knew I would go "Oh I remember when this came out" but I never realized how much of their music matched moments in my life and still fits, almost more so now than ever. "Simple Kind of Life" in particular is an amazing truth of what I wanted and where I wound up. Maybe if I had listened to Gwen things would be different, maybe.

That aside. There were some really dedicated fans behind us on the lawn. People who wistled so loudly I felt my ear drums rattle, blood vesels rupture and I fought the urge to turn around and smack them. I'm all for yelling at concerts (in fact I'm proud of how loud the St. Louis crowd gets for Hanson, I take it as a badge of honor that they released songs recorded in St. Louis to their fan club) but when you're loud enough that people in front of you plug their ears and duck when you start to whistle/scream you might need to redirect that sound. I can still hear ringing in my ear and it still hurts. Thanks people behind me. And thanks for complaining loudly that it was the longest encoure you've ever seen and leaving before the last song. I was able to enjoy "Sunday Morning" much more without you there.

I'm dreaming of other concerts this summer (Cheap Trick, Styx, Trace Adkins, Weezer) but I know I can't afford it. So next summer when my life settles down I'll have more time and money for these shows, for now I await the next Vandeventer concert in Tulsa.

Lay Me Down

I went to Tulsa for Independence Day. What better way to celebrate our freedom than to get away from the world? As usual I took what should have been a quiet relaxing and fun trip out of town and turned it into another quandary on life and what's really important. (Mom usually claims that when I do this I'm over analyzing. I probably am, but what can you do about it?)

But as I got into Oklahoma I was quickly reminded that this land is home to countless numbers of Native Indian tribes that weren't in this part of the country before my ancestors got here. A sign for the first city along the Will Rodger's Turnpike, Miami, claims that we should visit because it's home to "8 Native Tribes". Eight tribes. That's eight tribes who didn't used to live right on top of each other. Eight tribes who used to be unique and are now lumped in as the number one reason to visit, a tourist attraction, kind of like a life sized zoo.
As usual, I see this sign and note to myself that I won't be visiting anytime soon. But as I get further down the pike I enter the Cherokee Nation. And I can't say that I don't cry every time. If you take side roads through the Nation you'll find a lot of the stereotypical run down homes, and you'll find the liquor stores, but you'll also find good homes, good people and tradition clung to so tightly that you almost can't tell John Ross traded everything he raised to be to get the US to leave his people in peace.

So I find myself wondering, what tradition/religion is it that this generation is clinging too? What will help us keep our identity when we find ourselves relocated and our best laid plans fall asunder? What's our passion? And what really ties this country, this nation together? I can't say that I have an answer.

On a whim my egnostic brother bought me C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters. I'm sure at the time the only thought he had was, "I think she likes C.S. Lewis and I don't think I've seen this one in her room". But what he gave me was much more than just a book. The book brings to light the difference between claiming that you follow traditions and actually following them. Lewis talks about a Christian who is Christian in motion alone and not in belief or in truth at all. I'm starting to believe that today's American celibrates holidays for the motions of tradition alone and has no true reverence or comprehention of why we celibrate.

Freedom has become an assumed way of life, it is taken for granted and we assume the rest of the world is "free" as well. But we've lost the definition of the word and have lost the value of it. Somewhere along the line we have forgoten what it cost to gain it and what it cost those we've taken it away from. Freedom has become a word written in red, white and blue but no one looses their breath over the blood that flows from the innocents who fight for it. We shout for the freedom of countries half a world away but believe it should cost us and those we fight for nothing. Have we forgotten the thousands who gave their lives, on the battle field or sitting at a congressional desk, for our freedoms? Have we forgotten the thousands who fought for their own as we stole their land?

Until we can understand the cost of our freedoms and can celibrate soberly the holidays and traditions of our people I don't believe this generation will ever really stand as one, and this house will remain divided. No longer are we divided by the Mason-Dixie line, now we are divided by those who care and those who don't.
Independence Day is not about fireworks and who had the best barbeque or the best red,white and blue shot at the bar. Independence Day is about this Nation banding together to stand for what is right, what is just. Independence Day is about cherishing what we have inherited from our fathers (and mothers) and working to make it better.

But to improve what we have, we first must learn to embrace what we have been given. By God, at least sincerly thank a Veteran.