Jim Croce "I Got A Name"
Marvin Gaye "I Want You"
Jeff Buckley "Be Your Husband" (live)
Rocket Summer "So Much Love"
Glen Hansard "Say It To Me Now"
Keane "Somewhere Only We Know"
Velvet Underground "Sweet Jane"
The Miracles "Do It Baby"
Depeche Mode "In Your Room"
Terrence Howard "It's All Game"
Chris Isaak "Like The Way She Moves"
The O'Jay's "One night Affair"
Laura Nyro & LaBelle "The Bells""
The Doors "20th Century Fox"
Madonna "Secret Garden"
Billy Paul "Am I Black Enough For You?"
The Three Degrees "When Will I See You Again?"
Fiona Apple "The Child Is Gone"
Years ago, Blaine and I were in the back kitchen at work chatting. It was slow and we somehow got on the topic of the best sensations. I said, "There's three: An orgasm, cleaning your ears with a Q-Tip, and rubbing your eye." He groaned with pleasure and agreed completely. Today I modify that to rubbing your eyes OR using eye drops.
I woke up this morning and looked like I came down off a three day drunk combined with smoking enough grass to put down a reggae band for a solid month. My eyes were wicked bloodshot and dry as hell; it was terrible. I stopped at my parents' house before work and my sister-in-law, Genie, lovingly placed two drops in each eye. I literally sat frozen on the step with her standing above me and said softly, "don't move...just wait..." and let the ease of the eye drops wash over me. It was incredible. Ahhh...the little things in life.
The very sound of the album brings to mind the open window with billowing curtains looking out into the black night air as a tumbler of whiskey sits on the night table next to a smoldering cigarette in the ashtray.
Woohoo!!! Princess de La Coiffure (aka Dimples) is going to be on Season 2 of Oxygen's Hair Battle Spectacular!!! All her friends down here in Souf Joisey are super excited and looking forward to watching. Congrats to our Ba-Donka-Donk, we're all, as always, very proud of you.
Growing up, my family loved Alan Alda. And what's not to love? Intelligent, talented, funny as hell, attractive, and an all-around decent man. M*A*S*H* was on nearly every week night of my childhood and I still remember my parents coming home from the AMC theatre in our town after seeing The Four Seasons. Aunt Bernadette was babysitting, which meant pizza and TV's Incredible Hulk and more fun than you could imagine. We were still up when Mum and Da came in and I remember them talking with Aunt Berne and laughing as they recalled some of their favourite scenes.
As soon as we purchased a VCR in 1987, The Four Seasons was one of the few films that my parents bought. (Remember now, back in the day, those VHS tapes were pricey as hell. Back to the Future was like a hundred bucks! Mama clearly refused to spend that sort of money on something so frivolous.) Anyway, no matter how many times our family would watch The Four Seasons, we would still bust out laughing as hard as we had the first time.
That film is immensely significant to my youth. I always thought that when I grew up I would one day marry an Alan Alda or a Jack Weston (never Len Cariou - he was a cad and a philanderer) and that we would go sailing and skiing with friends. Our children would go to college in New England and be wonderful children that took a real bite out of life. It never crossed my mind though, until recently, that one day I might have the relationship with my mother that Carol Burnett's character had with Elizabeth Alda in The Four Seasons. It seemed so foreign a thing to even think on. Many, many years later, I'm not married to an Alan or a Jack and I don't go on sailing or ski trips with other couples. However, more importantly, I currently have that mother-daughter relationship that Kate and Beth (Carol Burnett & Elizabeth Alda) had in the film. My mother and I are truly the best of friends. We are always genuinely happy to see one another; we think each other is absolutely wonderful and we can talk like friends and equals. So when you watch The Four Seasons and you reach the scene where Beth runs across the leafy lawn waving to her mother, and you see Kate's expression of complete joy as she opens her arms to hug her daughter, well, that's me and that's my Mum. We have that and a lot more. My mama is the coolest, dorkiest, silliest, most fun and loveable lady ever. If you met her, you would absolutely agree. Cheers, Mum!
(much gratitude to cerpts for the above foto! xoxo)
Oh damn I wish that I were
gone away from here-from
everywhere but how would I
There is always bridges-the Brooklyn
But I love that bridge (everything from there and the air is so clean) walking it seems
peaceful even with all those
cars going crazy underneath. So
it would have to be some other bridge
an ugly one and with no view-except
I like in particular all bridges-there's some-
thing about them and besides I've
never seen an ugly bridge
Tonight I had a caller from Colombia who told me that his favourite author was Pablo Neruda. In his broken English he told me, "In youth, I...how do you say, I liked to conquer..uh, the girls..." I immediately knew what he meant and said, "Reciting some of Pablo's poems will definitely get you in with the ladies." He laughed knowingly. It's so true. Oh how I wish men today would speak like Neruda did... Here is one of the most beautiful of all his poems:
Love Sonnet XI
Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo
Y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado,
No me sostiene el pan, el alba me desquicia,
Busco el sonido líquido de tus pies en el día.
Estoy hambriento de tu risa resbalada,
De tus manos color de furioso granero,
Tengo hambre de la pálida piedra de tus uñas,
Quiero comer tu piel como una intacta almendra.
Quiero comer el rayo quemado en tu hermosura,
La nariz soberana del arrogante rostro,
Quiero comer la sombra fugaz de tus pestañas
Y hambriento vengo y voy olfateando el crepúsculo
Buscándote, buscando tu corazón caliente
Como un puma en la soledad de Quitratúe.
I hunger for your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Here are some more pictures that I found outside the library near my home. My favourite is one of the only ones not torn in two-the one of the young girl in the bright yellow bean bag chair. It just screams the holidays in the early 1980s. And that chair! It's so out of place in that room, is it not? So sad that these memories were so easily scattered into the early summer breeze.
Here is an envelope and note that I found in a shoebox in my closet. It's from my little brother. He slipped it under my bedroom door after he apparently annoyed me and we got in a fight. It should be stated that my little brother was the cutest boy who ever lived.
Dennis Miller is the man that saved my life, changed it in every respect and is solely responsible for my current state. I first noticed him years ago when I saw his stand up, Black and White. Several years following that I got a copy of his Off White Album which damn near killed me when I could not catch my breath in between hysterical fits of laughter. Terri and I literally had to pull over while driving on 95 in Virginia in order to compose ourselves. The man makes me laugh like no other. Then about six years ago, I decided to re-watch his HBO stand-ups and write down all the names he dropped and then research them. I already knew about half of his references, but there were still tons more to learn. One of whom was James Stockdale. Dennis Miller's rant about James Stockdale clung to my thoughts for days. I bought one of Stockdale's books (Courage Under Fire) and learned the name Epictetus. I then went out and bought The Enchiridion. I was most struck by the statement that dealt with what is within one's control and what is outside of one's control. My acceptance of this has been paramount in reshaping my thought pattern entirely.
Since I was nine years old, I hardly remember a day that went by when thoughts of hopelessness and suicide weren't in the forefront of my every thought. At times it became overwhelming and I truly believed that I would remain in this darkness for all time. Reading about the profound effect that Epictetus' teachings had on James Stockdale shook me from my den of despair and made me realise that I was the one in complete control of my thoughts and my actions. I possess free will and I control my reaction to the things that occur in my life. There is so much that is absent in my life and even more that seems wrong and unfixable; regardless, I have come to focus on what I can control and I no longer feel a constant weight of the burden of what should have been and what I don't have in my life. I don't freak out if I'm stuck in traffic and am going to be late to work at my new jobbie. I can't control the traffic-if I'm late, I'm late. I can control my emotions and reminding myself of the teachings of Epictetus on a daily basis has alleviated nearly all stress and depression from my life. I no longer feel cloaked in a feeling of helpless hopelessness and I no longer feel that my only option is to obtain a gun permit and order that Beretta 92. So thank you Dennis Miller, you handsome devil. You have impacted my life in a way I'm sure you never imagined. In short, you freakin' rock.
Pedro Almodóvar's upcoming film, The Skin I Live In, reunites the director with Antonio Banderas. The premise, like all Almodóvar films, is fascinating and will prove to be yet another incredible film among what seems to be a plethora of dull and thoughtless movies. I guess I'll have to be patient and wait until autumn...
This morning I received the following text message from my little brother:
"I saw my baby for the first time today. It looks like a dancing gummy bear on the ultrasound. Its awesome!!!!!!!"
And, that is exactly as he sent it, seven exclamation marks and all. So far he and his lady love like Gemma Rose for a girl or George Kent for a boy. My mum and I are convinced that it's gonna be a little girl, although we don't actually care what the sex is. Either way, I cannot wait to meet little G! ♥♥
Once again while looking in that heart shaped box from Marina, I found two notes that I had written about my nieces, who I adore above all others:
~when nicole ends her fone calls by telling me "i love you"(no matter where she is or who she's with) ~Ashlee's lil' smirk that's 2 parts shyness and 1 part devilishness
They are approaching ages 19 and 18, respectively, and still continue to amaze me with their humour, intelligence and true kindness. I do still miss those little girls that I lived with and hung out with, but I love the women they have become.
Readers of this blog are well aware of my love affair with all things literary, especially audio books. Having hit my mid-thirties earlier this year, I have decided that, although I loathe it, I must start to exercise. I am doing better with the whole eating healthy thing, but working out makes me want to cry. I have gone so far as to leave my yoga mat and workout crap in the middle of the floor so I could not avoid it when I came home from work. I walked in the door, looked at it and literally said, "I'd rather eat dog food." I shoved the stuff under my chair and sat down with a bowl of Pirate's Booty.
What does this have to do with Tina Fey? Well, allow me to continue. So I figured that since there is a mall not far from my home that is fully air-conditioned, that I should go to the library, score tons of fun and fabulous audio books, upload them onto my iPod and listen while I walk. Today is day one. I decided to listen to Tina Fey's book Bossypants on my way to work just to get a preview before putting it on my iPod. Oh. My. God. It is hilarious. I was cracking up the whole ride here. The inflections in her voice made it seem as though she were merely spinning me a yarn and regaling me with fun and interesting stories of her past, rather than reading to me from a book. So many times, authors who read their own work tend to read it in a monotonous dull cadence. Not Ms. Fey and not John Waters (his audio version of Role Models had me in stitches.) Bossypants is (so far) endearing and funny and I think it might actually get me to take my fat ass for a walk every day. Here's hoping!
(ps~this book is so phenomenal that i went out today(july 7th)to buy a real copy. ♥♥)
Ever since 1995 I have had a burning desire to visit Italy, and more specifically the town of Positano, located on the Amalfi Coast. If I get my wish, next year will be the year. Then I will post my own photographs! But isn't it the most serenely lovely place you've ever laid eyes on?