The songs I'm about to share have nothing to do with chart toppers or best artists of the year. They simply are the best due to my sentimental inklings towards them. They were around for a particular event, turning points, thoughts or feelings I had throughout the year. Enjoy!
TRYIN' TO GET TO YOU, ELVIS, 1968 CONCERT.
CACTUS TREE - JONI MITCHELL
LIKE HUMANS DO - DAVID BYRNE
ADDICTED TO LOVE (COVER) - FLORENCE AND THE MACHINE
EVERY NIGHT - PAUL & THE WINGS
MEXICO - LAURA MARLING
OPTIMIST - LOVE THIS GIANT - ST.VINCENT AND DAVID BYRNE
THIS MUST BE THE PLACE - DAVID BYRNE
CHAMPAGNE YEAR - ST. VINCENT
GET THEE BEHIND ME, SATAN - ELLA FITZGERALD
AGE OF CONSENT - NEW ORDER
BOYFRIEND - BEST COAST
NOTHING CAN CHANGE THIS LOVE - SAM COOKE
CARAVAN - VAN MORRISON
MONTEZUMA - FLEET FOXES
i wish you all a very merry christmas, and the happiest of new years. what the hell is next for us? only 2013 will tell. it gets me so giddy. so many people to meet and things to see, what could be around the corner? something i can't even imagine, i suppose. *crosses fingers, closes eyes, and makes a wish*
As I write this, I'm listening to "Giving You Everything" by the Spice Girls, blaring from the neighbors next door. May I say, impressive harmonica solo. :) My next-door-neighbors are five gay/lesbian undergrads. Needless to say, their music playlist for parties - although annoying due to timing - are never a disappointment.
Tonight me and my band had a gig at the Austin landmark which is Spiderhouse. We had a great time, free booze and tips and fun people. Great audience. It's a beautiful thing to share your art with an audience that loves it as much as you do. To bring joy to others thru your music and/or art is a truly amazing experience to have. To get to perform is a great honor for me. It's a brave thing - you never know how it will go, but you do it because you believe in the potential. And the majority of the time (thank God) that potential has come thru on our shows.
I love living here. I love the people who live in this city. Everyone is so nice and laid-back. It's easy to be happy in this town.
Tomorrow is Sunday, and i am taking full advantage of it. Soooo tired. Long day, recovering from party i hosted Friday, and gigs on Thurs and Saturday nights. WOO.
Last night we had a wonderful show at Butterfly Bar. A shaky start
because one of our mikes went out, but we recovered fast! Zane always
has crazy funny banter, but sometimes it is making fun of me. i guess i
take it for the team, b/c it is funny for roast to happen to you once in
awhile. and the audience loves it. those misogynist bastards.ha. i just
need to get better at being more snarky. That is one reason i like Zane
as a musical partner, because he keeps me witty and on my toes.
the bar tender - we'll call him, M - was hurt-so-good-cute. Like you
know, when someone is so cute, it aches in your heart a bit to check
them out. but i'm jaded now, so we talked but giving my number out
hurts. I think it's not necessary to chase, but to be chased is
necessary. You need a man that wants to work for your affections, woo
you. I think if he wants to do that, it's a sure sign he actually wants
you. If you do all the work you're bound to be disappointed. He
said he remembered me from our EAST show a few weeks ago and i said i
remembered him. and then we exchanged cute flirty glances and gushed. it
was quite dorky.
I have been in love with Austin lately. Is it
b/c I have a strong premonition that in 2013 I will at some point be
leaving this fair city? I dunno. I love living here. I have wonderful
friends, a band, and an interesting job. I just need more money so i
cannot flounder to pay off my loans. :/ and that's where i think the
move will be necessary. unless i take a better paying job here that i
don't really enjoy. I'll have to think about this over holiday break.
I
love that this morning i walked outside to see an old school red
Volkswagen beetle and Christmas lights across the street. I love riding
my bike early in the morning, seeing the Christmas lights and early
morning runners go by. i love the fact that Austin feels like a small
town but has the culture and quirky-ness every big city has. and i value
how laid back and friendly everyone is here. it makes life less
hardened.
i got a message in my inbox today on FB from an old
friend that simply said, "you're the best." it made me so happy. what a
great way to start a day.
i sent this poem a year ago today to a lover. and on this anniversary i now send it to you, dear reader. wherever and whomever you may be ...
Light will someday split you open Even if your life is now a cage, For a divine seed, the crown of destiny, Is hidden and sown on an ancient, fertile plainYou hold the title to...
Love will surely bust you wide open Into an unfettered, blooming new galaxy Even if your mind is now A spoiled mule.
I made this two nights ago and whilst doing so pretended to be Nigella while doing it. I want to be her when I grow up. It was a very sensual dinner making time. Also - absolutely delicious!!!
Since Thursday i have gotten three numbers from three men that are ALL in serious relationships.
WTF, cosmos.
I attained this knowledge by being creepy and social network stalking them.
All men are dogs. I can't believe you would treat your partner that you LOVE that way. It makes me think that if i even find a man that seems decent he will cheat on me whenever he wants and i'll never know anyways. All these guys seemed nice. But they must be good actors. These poor women!!!
I'm watching Take This Waltz. It makes me miss Canada and it makes me realize how easy it is to cheat.
I think people in my generation are so hyper active and over stimulated they can't be w/ the same person the rest of their lives. It's too hard, too complicated. Boring. How can you constantly ignore the other possibilities around you? It's like a revolving door and there is always another (potentially better) person coming thru next. It's easy to think that way - especially if you live somewhere where the majority of the population is "single and" *cringe* "ready to mingle".
But - i recently heard a character on a show talk about this concept. She told her husband to stop seeing his mistress and he refused. He dies soon after [karma, you know....]. The wife says, "I knew he loved me, but he refused to give anything up for me. What kind of love is it when you don't give up anything else for the other person. Is that really love?"
But if you don't give anything up you won't ever get what you want. That's a bitch of a Catch 22 if i ever thought of one.
Thursday night i went to a really expensive/trendy restaurant and sat alone at the bar, waiting for my friend, E. This restaurant is one of my favorite places, but i never get to go there cuz it's too expensive. I got a notice about my loans yesterday. This notice made me feel anger, resentment and bitterness towards my education (even though it's given me a job i love and some money). And LOGICALLY, as a way to spite the universe for asking me to pay $2,000,000.00/month on my repayment plan, I decided it was a GREAT idea to go to a super fancy restaurant. That would show the universe.
I don't have a problem with being alone in a public place. I actually find a weird peacefulness in it. In the busy world we live in, it's nice to not be on a computer, sit with yourself and just "be". Maybe look around at the people. Make up stories about them and where they are going and who they are in love with and why they are here at the same space as you are. When you are alone I think you really can taste your food and see things more intensely. There is nothing to disrupt the moment you are in. It's fun to share good things with people - food and sunsets - but there's also something deeply satisfying when you are the only one experiencing a single moment. It's a secret moment that happened for you and no one else will ever know about it. Unless you Instagram, Tweet, or make a Facebook status about it. And that's why it's key to not be on your phone all the time. It creates useless distraction taking away from a very sacred thing. Yes - tasting a beer and eating oysters can be a sacred thing. Anything you want can, actually.
Ok - so to move on from my Wonka Speech -
So i was at the bar. The bartender asked if i "come here often." I said, no. Too expensive.
We proceeded to banter and by the time my friend came and I got the bill I saw there was a measley $10.00 charge. My table was easily $40.00.
Thank you for making me a shameless vixen, God. Keeping me outta the poorhouse.
The bartender told me to come back, "I'll hook you up."
And honestly for the free oysters alone I just may do that.
When Wednesday rolled around i accepted temporary defeat. I wrote him my concession message:
ME: ugh! i knew you were too hot to be single! oy vey.
CARPENTER JESUS REPLY: Ha! Sorry, I didn't see your message till now. Still getting the hang of the this kind of page. Yes, I am seeing someone. Does this mean we can't be friends?
i then said "but of course" and sent him this, as well:
What is it about still loving someone even if you know they love someone else, or if you know you only have a short while with them before they disappear?
I think there is a certain joy about it, thrill derived from it, that makes people willing to deal with the promise of definite demise.
There is something beautiful about still choosing to love even though you know it will go nowhere or end soon. Perhaps it's more thrilling to have a lover like that, than one you can depend on, because if you know you are going to end or be deserted you are grateful and aware of each moment you spend with that person on an intense, zen, live-in-the-moment level.
I never ask men out. It's one of my all time, always-adhere-to-rules.
Never has anyone caused me to break this rule. Until Carpenter Jesus.
I was obsessed. I had been thinking about Carpenter Jesus since I met him. The ONLY way to answer my questions, to stop my breathless waiting was to ask him out on a date.
But I have no other news to report, because he has yet to read my note of solicitation.
He has no FB profile, but a business page on FB. I don't have the guts to actually call him, so I messaged him over FB....with as much dignity as one can do that with. Which ain't much.
Hey would you wanna go out sometime?
FB now tells you when someone has read your messages. It's creepy but it actually makes me feel better in this situation.
I'm more than positive CJ has five babies with a beautiful hippie yoga goddess, but what the hell. I would never know the answer unless I asked.
Typically I believe the woman should be pursued. If the man doesn't pursue it means he doesn't want you. So I never make it worse by actually pursuing an unenthusiastic male. I want one that chases me w/ passion and confidence!
I hope, dear reader, that I can tell you in a future post you will read about my first date w/ Carpenter Jesus. But I have already written the perfect reply upon notice of my impending rejection. But I'll wait to share it with you until it actually happens. Don't want to kill the suspense.
I had a gig last Sunday at an art festival/art studio
tour thing my city does every year. After the gig I finally had the
chance to get out and see the art.
I took tons of the artists' business cards b/c I have no money to buy 100s of dollars of work, but maybe someday or for
something I can buy something of my favorite artist's online. BLIND OPTIMISM.
The
last studio we went to was a huge, open, wood, metal warehouse setting. it was so
interesting. all these machines and chains and ironworks and boards of
prized trees to make things with.
I was browsing, causing a ruckus.
At the end of the front area I saw a table with cutting boards, chess
boards, driftwood sculptures, cherry, oak, maple woods. And behind that
table I saw Carpenter Jesus. I say Jesus b/c he was the most beautiful carpenter Jesus has made since Joseph. He is the hottest carpenter that
God has ever given to the world. The "Jesus" qualifies his epic status.
He had a STRONG similarity to our favorite carpenter in pop culture: Aidan Shaw.
Same hair and body type and same hippie, sexy, earthy mansome vibe. He had large, muscular carpenter hands. hawt.
His
hair was really dark, almost black. His eyes were a piercing
blue-green. He had freckles but they were all equally distributed and
complimented every inch of his 6'4'' ness.
He had sexy arm tattoos that peeked out of his pearl-snap, vintage cowboy shirt. and of course he had a 5 o'clock shadow.
I
complimented his work. He said thanks, that he was ready for this to
be the last day of the two weekend 4 day art fest. I then mentioned how I
was happy I could finally see the art, since the other days I was
performing during the crawl time. And then the real talking happened.
Carpenter Jesus: Oh ... (suddenly interested) you're in a band? Girl in love with Carpenter Jesus: Ya. CJ: What do you play? GILWCJ: Uh, i play my voice. CJ: Oh, well I'm sure you have a beautiful voice because - GILWCJ: (interrupts CJ) Because of my face right? (smart ass smiling face) CJ: (pause, laugh) Actually I was going to say because of your beautiful eyes. GILWCJ: (permanent blushing for rest of conversation).
so we exchange facebook page info???????? this is what it's come to, folks.
I "liked" his page.
but i've yet to send him my page to like. b/c I was hoping he would just friend me.
but I think i'm putting this in the "whoring his product out w/ sex" "baby mama", "live-in girlfriend", "just not that into you" categories.
BUT one more page request before i give up, of course!!! ;)
my friend informed me over gchat: my friend: hehe
i thought i saw him driving a pedicab this weekend
so many men i've gone on dates w/ appeared yesterday. this town is too fucking small. add that to a reason to move.
these all happened in a single day, yet never happen normally. that's why i'm sharing it in the sharing circle this week. what is the universe doin?
smokin' crack.
1 - past date's current gf/fiance(?) on the street. she is cray-cray and wants to cut me, exchanged bitch faces. i endured this at a friend's wedding. flashback wayne's world style, y'all.
2 - saw guy i dated twice and ended horrendously playing at his best friend's house (which happens to be 2 doors down from me [wtf!!!]) on way back from video store. yes i still rent dvds. they aren't all on netflix.
3 - creeper texted me, i have no idea why. he texts me every 10 days like a creeper would do. i don't respond, but he keeps doing it. so fucking weird.
4. IMOM keeps looking at my linkedin. what a horrible feature by the way. i know he's looking at my social network, professional networks but he can't bring himself to speak to me? oy vey. he also wrote a thanksgiving day piece for a local publication lamenting how he had no one to be with on thanksgiving day and how hard it is to not be in the motherland on a holiday such as thanksgiving.:
"If it hadn’t been for those intrepid pilgrims and the friendly Indians
who helped them survive their first winter, I’d never have had my
American adventure in the first place: never learned how to make proper margaritas;
never driven a cerulean Mustang with the windows rolled down toward a
vermilion sun balanced on the horizon; never had my socks blown off by
those spirited beauties only fashioned in America."
GLAD I COULD HELP.
So - that is FOUR things in one weekend. this town is too damn small yo
it's the single girl life i guess.
ALSO - all these people popping up - NO CARPENTER, NO JESUS CARPENTER
oh --------
i just realized dear readers i've yet to tell you the tale of the Carpenter Jesus. Next post.....
“Pamela, I’m in love with you. Yeah, it’s that bad. You’re so beautiful to me. Shut up! Lemme tell you. Let me. Every time I look at your face or even remember it, it wrecks me - and the way you are with me - and you’re just fun and you shit all over me and you make fun of me and you’re real. I don’t have enough time in any day to think about you enough. I feel like I’m going to live a thousand years cause that’s how long it’s gonna take me to have one thought about you which is that I’m crazy about you, Pamela. I don’t wanna be with anybody else. I don’t. I really don’t. I don’t think about women anymore. I think about you. I had a dream the other night that you and I were on a train. We were on this train and you were holding my hand. That’s the whole dream. You were holding my hand and I felt you holding my hand. I woke up and I couldn't believe it wasn't real. I’m sick in love with you, Pamela. It’s like a condition. It’s like polio. I feel like I’m gonna die if I can’t be with you. And I can’t be with you. So I’m gonna die - and I don’t care cause I was brought into existence to know you and that’s enough. The idea that you would want me back it’s like greedy.”
I love Louie C.K. (comedian and show). I have a cerebral/writer's crush on him.
I like working on my writing projects more than working out
that's why this week i only worked out once
I
really liked the new James Bond movie, Skyfall. James Bond is still the
most MANSOME man ever. and timelessly sexy of course!
I hope Israel and Palestine stop bombing each other. (i realize everyone feels the same and has forever)
I'm a writer
I love my best friends
Simple
things only grow more enjoyable w/ age: sleeping in, kissing, tea, diy
face masks, flying home for the holidays to see the family you only see
twice a year
I got my hair cut short again. Men don't really
like this. My roommate and my other roommate's boyfriend do, but they
don't count.
Usually really interesting men like women w/
short hair. But those aren't the men i encounter when going out to bars
on weekends.
Yet the men at my gigs like my hair???
So i can only conclude artistic men like women with short hair???
Still don't know.
Still don't really care.
I
love myself with short hair! In an odd, deeply self centered way, I
feel more myself with short hair. It's SASSY and different.
No matter how much weight i lose my boobs will always be huge.
I'm not complaining, but i don't always like it.
I'll probably get breast cancer one day and look back at this and want to slap myself really hard.
Funny men always win over hot men. Hot men are nice for a month. Funny men are good for AT LEAST a year.
My
dating life is insanely comically tragic. Like one big black comedy. I
fantasize about writing a blog or tumblr about it, but fear the men i
leave in my wake will see it and seek revenge.
Dating in your 20s is SO. WEIRD.
I
wish i could de-friend all my exes from my Facebook. But i want to "win
the game" and not act immaturely - cuz we all know when you de-friend
you become the bitter one. UGH. and it's not that I'm bitter I just HATE
THEIR FACES AND NEVER WANT TO SEE THEM AGAIN.
except for
one. and you know who you are. i think you read this sometimes, so
please don't de-friend me for that last thought. i'm glad we're fb
friends!!!
FB posts are growing INCREASINGLY unbearable lately. i
don't wanna know about your marriage, babies, husbands or other
horrible decisions you made for yourself far too early on in your life.
Why? WHY? Best case scenario is you love each other and one of you
eventually dies. Death is the best result. Also, babies terrify me. 50%
OF MARRIAGES END IN DIVORCE.
i play in a band and it gives me great joy.
The bartender at our latest gig is the fake love of my life. sooooo hawt. sooooooo aloof. sooooooo hawt.
i love that riding my bike is my main mode of transport and i hope this last my entire life
i wish i was Lena Dunham.
I don't think i wanna turn 25. I may just have a 2nd 24th birthday.
It's not fun to be single at 41. I was married for ten years. I'm divorced, I've got two children. It's hard to start again after a marriage. It's hard to really, like, look at somebody and go "Hey, maybe something nice will happen." You just don't. I know too much about life to have any optimism because I know even if it's nice it's going to lead to shit. I know that if you smile at somebody and they smile back, you've just decided that something shitty is going to happen. You might have a nice couple of dates, but then she'll stop calling you back and that'll feel shitty. Or, you'll date for a long time and then she'll have sex with one of your friends, or you will with one of hers, and that'll be shitty. Or, you'll get married and it won't work out, and you'll get divorced and split your friends and money, and that's horrible. Or, you'll meet the perfect person who you love infinitely, and you even argue well, and you grow together, and you have children, and then you get old together. And then she's gonna' die.
No one
has lots of them
Lays or friends or anything
That can make a little light in all
that darkness
There is a cigarette you can
hold for a minute
In your weak mouth
And then the light goes out,
Rival, honey, friend
And then you stub it out.
The Poet at Seventeen My youth? I hear it mostly in the long,
volleyingEchoes of billiards in the pool halls whereI spent it all,
extravagantly, believingMy delicate touch on a cue would last for years. Outside
the vineyards vanished under rain,And the trees held still or seemed
to hold their breathWhen the men I worked with, pruning orchards,
sangTheir lost songs: Amapola; La Paloma; Jalisco; No Te Rajues—the
corny tunesTheir sons would just as soon forget, at recess,Where they
lounged apart in small groups of their own.Still, even when they
laughed, they laughed in Spanish. I hated high school then, & on
weekends droveA tractor through the widowed fields. It was so boringI
memorized poems above the engine’s monotone.Sometimes whole days slipped
past without my noticing. And birds of all kinds flew in front of me
then.I learned to tell them apart by their empty squabblings,The
slightest change in plumage, or the inflectionOf a call. And why not
admit it? I was happy Then. I believed in no one. I had the kindOf
solitude the world usually allowsOnly to kings and criminals who are
extinct,Who disdain this world, & who rot, corrupt & shallow As
fields I disced: I turned up the same grayEarth for years. Still, the
land made a glum raisinEach autumn, & made that little hell of
days—The vines must have seemed like cages to the Mexicans Who were
paid seven cents a tray for the grapesThey picked. Inside the vines it
was hot, & spidersStrummed their emptiness. Black Widow, Daddy
Longlegs,The vine canes whipped our faces. None of us cared. And the
girls I tried to talk to after classSailed by, then each night lay
enthroned in my bed,With nothing on but the jewels of their
embarrassment.Eyes, lips, dreams. No one. The sky & the road. A
life like that? It seemed to go one forever—Reading poems in school,
then driving a stuttering tractorWarm afternoons, then billiards on blue
OctoberNights. The thick stars. But mostly now I remember The trees,
wearing their mysterious yellow sullennessLike party dresses. And
parties I didn’t attend.And then the first ice hung like spider
latticesOr the embroideries of Great Aunt No One, And then the first
dark entering the trees—And inside, adults with their cocktails before
dinner,The way they always seemed afraid of something,And sat so
rigidly, although the land was theirs. --Larry Levis, from his collection WINTER STARS
and the little white dove
made with love, made with love:
made with glue, and a glove, and some pliers
swings a low sickle arc
from its perch in the dark:
settle down
settle down my desire
and the moment I slept I was swept up in a terrible tremor
though no longer bereft, how I shook!
and I couldn't remember
then the furthermost shake drove a murdering stake in
and cleft me right down through my center
and I shouldn't say so, but I know that it was then, or never
push me back into a tree
bind my buttons with salt
fill my long ears with bees
praying: please, please, please
love, you ought not!
no you ought not!
then the system of strings tugs on the tip of my wings
(cut from cardboard and old magazines)
makes me warble and rise like a sparrow
and in the place where I stood, there is a circle of wood
a cord or two, which you chop and you stack in your barrow
it is terribly good to carry water and chop wood
streaked with soot, heavy booted and wild-eyed
as I crash through the rafters
and the ropes and pulleys trail after
and the holiest belfry burns sky-high
then the slow lip of fire moves across the prairie with precision
while, somewhere, with your pliers and glue you make your first incision
and in a moment of almost-unbearable vision
doubled over with the hunger of lions
"hold me close," cooed the dove
who was stuffed now with sawdust and diamonds
I wanted to say: why the long face?
sparrow, perch and play songs of long face
burro, buck and bray songs of long face!
sing: I will swallow your sadness and eat your cold clay
just to lift your long face
and though it may be madness, I will take to the grave
your precious longface
and though our bones they may break, and our souls separate
- why the long face?
and though our bodies recoil from the grip of the soil
- why the long face?
in the trough of the waves
which are pawing like dogs
pitch we, pale-faced and grave
as I write in my log
then I hear a noise from the hull
seven days out to sea
and it is the damnable bell!
and it tolls - well, I believe, that it tolls - for me!
it tolls for me!
though my wrists and my waist seemed so easy to break
still, my dear, I would have walked you to the very edge of the water
and they will recognise all the lines of your face
in the face of the daughter of the daughter of my daughter
darling, we will be fine, but what was yours and mine
appears to be a sandcastle that the gibbering wave takes
but if it's all just the same, then will you say my name:
say my name in the morning, so I know when the wave breaks?
I wasn't born of a whistle or milked from a thistle at twilight
no, I was all horns and thorns, sprung out fully formed, knock-kneed and upright
so: enough of this terror
we deserve to know light
and grow evermore lighter and lighter
you would have seen me through
but I could not undo that desire
oh, desire...
from the top of the flight
of the wide, white stairs
through the rest of my life
do you wait for me there?
From this summer - recently found in diary
Dear HTSP,
So .... When the hell are you getting here?
I keep on going on dates that seem to go nowhere. Lots of them. I never get past the third date because they are predictable and I am now jaded. My old rule of "three strikes you're out" no longer applies and it appears I have dropped that down to one strike.
I really don't want to have to come to you. I want you to come to me. I've never chased and I don't intend on starting now.
What's up w/ men not wanting to chase anymore? I'm sure if you met me, you'd enjoying chasing me. I am a fun chase. Promise. Promesa.
I could be a Muse. I would be a GREAT muse. I've read all the biographical books on them: Lee Miller, Camille Claudel, Jean Rhys, Anais Nin, Francoise Gilot!!!! I'm up on what I would need to do. I've read the rules. I know the game plan. Just come to my door with a bottle of Rioja or Malbec - I'm ready, I swear.
But what if you never find me? Will I act on my deadline (age 35) and spend a summer in a villa in Barcelona and find you? What then? As I said, I don't chase so this would be an exceptional circumstance.
You have to promise to recite poetry to me. And leave love notes on post-its everywhere - the fridge, the bathroom mirror, my walk-in closet, even the front door if you're feeling courageous.
If - When - you paint me, paint me in purple or lilac or magenta. Something that's warm and looks like it's on fire. That way I'll know how you really feel about me.
Our children will be covered in dirt and paint at all times. They will run about our Andalusian/Argentinian/Montevideo/Catalan backyard as if it is the only paradise they ever knew. They will ask for a pet until they wear us down and we will give in. Don't worry I will walk it. Promesa.
I want our children to have Spanish names. And like 25 names each. Like those famous monarchs from ages ago, that when their names were pronounced, you had to sit there for twenty minutes just for them to finish pronouncing all the hundreds of beautiful syllables.
Anyways - this was just a little push. In your general direction.
"i think that is a good idea. i would TOTALLY get a phd in the things i'm interested in - ALAS those include art history, archaeology, and creative writing. So the plan is to meet the millionaire HTSP (hot tempered spanish painter) and have him SHARE in my aspirations w/ me. I'M RIDICULOUS."
If you're driving into town With a dark cloud above you Dial in the number Who's bound to love you
Oh honey you turn me on I'm a radio I'm a country station I'm a little bit corny I'm a wildwood flower Waving for you Broadcasting tower Waving for you
And I'm sending you out This signal here I hope you can pick it up Loud and clear
I know you don't like weak women You get bored so quick And you don't like strong women 'Cause they're hip to your tricks
It's been dirty for dirty Down the line But you know I come when you whistle When you're loving and kind
But if you've got too many doubts If there's no good reception for me Then tune me out, 'cause honey Who needs the static It hurts the head And you wind up cracking And the day goes dismal From "Breakfast Barney" To the sign-off prayer What a sorry face you get to wear
I'm going to tell you again now If you're still listening there If you're driving into town With a dark cloud above you Dial in the number Who's bound to love you
If you're lying on the beach With the transistor going Kick off the sand cause honey The love's still flowing
If your head says forget it But your heart's still smoking Call me at the station The lines are open
I know what you look like in the morning
Your kisses are soft and warm
I can draw you with my eyes closed
See you with nothing on but the radio
I know how many years of French you took
Your favorite movies, your favorite books
I know what really gets you going… glowing
I know where you go with your beautiful friends
I know what you taste like when the night ends
I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh
The way you tilt your head for a photograph
What other guy knows you like that?
And I can name the first guy you ever kissed
I can name the perfume on your wrist
What other guy knows you like that?
Oh, Anne
Oh, Anne
I know what you want by what you're wearing
The kind of night you're preparing
I know what your hands do when you're kissing
Your number one and number two favorite positions
I know how your skin glistens… listen
I know where you go with your beautiful friends
I know what you taste like when the night ends
I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh
The way you tilt your head for a photograph
What other guy knows you like that?
And I can name the first guy you ever kissed
I can name the perfume on your wrist
What other guy knows you like that?
Oh, Anne
Oh, Anne
Oh, Anne
Oh, Anne
I know where you go with your beautiful friends
Yes I know what you taste like when the night ends
I know the kind of thing that makes you laugh
The way you tilt your head for a photograph
What other guy knows you like that?
And I can name the first guy you ever kissed
I can name the perfume on your wrist
What other guy knows you like that?
1. You came to me this morning
And you handled me like meat.
You´d have to live alone to know
How good that feels, how sweet.
My mirror twin, my next of kin,
I´d know you in my sleep.
And who but you would take me in
A thousand kisses deep?
2. I loved you when you opened
Like a lily to the heat.
I´m just another snowman
Standing in the rain and sleet,
Who loved you with his frozen love
His second-hand physique -
With all he is, and all he was
A thousand kisses deep.
3. All soaked in sex, and pressed against
The limits of the sea:
I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
We made it to the forward deck
I blessed our remnant fleet -
And then consented to be wrecked
A thousand kisses deep.
4. I know you had to lie to me,
I know you had to cheat.
But the Means no longer guarantee
The Virtue in Deceit. That truth is bent, that beauty spent, That style is obsolete -
Ever since the Holy Spirit went
A thousand kisses deep.
5. (So what about this Inner Light
That´s boundless and unique?
I´m slouching through another night
A thousand kisses deep.)
Well come on let's go, And head off to Mexico, And build our dreams on siestas of the day. I'll take my guitar, Who knows, it might get us far, And we'll call each other by our fake names.
We'll restart our lives, Cut the others off with lies, You don't know how lucky we are. But it's you, me and Mexico, You, me and Mexico, You, me and Mexico... And my guitar.
We'll open that tequila bar, And spend nights under the stars, And we'll sing songs of salvation. And when our tricks grow old, We might be so bold as to think of things, And broaden our reputation.
We'll restart our lives, Cut the others off with lies, You don't know how lucky we are. But it's you, me and Mexico, You, me and Mexico, You, me and Mexico... And my guitar.
I'll sing the melody line, Watch you drinking wine, And we'll say how life is pretty funny. We'll busk our way there, 'cause we're the perfect pair, And we'll find there's more life to money.
We'll restart our lives, Cut the others off with lies, You don't know how lucky we are. We'll restart our lives, Cut the others off with lies, You don't know how lucky we are. But it's you, me and Mexico, You, me and Mexico, You, me and Mexico... And my guitar.
JULIET 1Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
2It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
3That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
4Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:
5Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
ROMEO 6It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
7No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks
8Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
9Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
10Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
11I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
Nothing s o l o v e l y has ever been c r e a t e d . He l o v e s h e r as
he h a s never loved b e f o r e , never could l o v e any o t h e r
being. H i s former ambitions seem as nothing now; p a l t r y ,
commonplace, unworthy of him. H e i s a changed man, and
t h i s change i s t h e proof t h a t t h a t o l d a r t i f i c i a l l i f e
never was and c o u l d n o t be t h e real one, i n harmony w i t h
h i s t r u e n a t u r e .
H e i s a t r u e p i o n e e r , f o r e v e r l e a v i n g t h e p a s t behind,
b e a r i n g t h e b r u n t o f d a n g e r , contemptuous o f f e a r -- a
c o n q u e r o r who l e t s down anchor when t h e whim s e i z e s him,
makes t h e s h o r e h i s home f o r a while, then i n e v i t a b l y grows
b o r e d and moves on, to seek h i s luck e l s e w h e r e .
We went to Swift's Attic and WHO was seated two tables down?
OWEN WILSON.
Yet again another personal sighting. First Barton Springs, now Swift's. I totally have the same taste as Owen Wilson.
This is what we ate. It was amazing.
Scaia wine from Veneto!
Peeler farm’s fried chicken meatball “tsukune“ pickled ginger, nori sauce Fried Oysters w/ Bacon, Chives and some sort of puree of carrot based something or other.
House tater tot “Swiftine“ smoked ham hock, Dos Lunas queso fresco, Big Daddy gravy
Chocolate 7 ways
More to come ....
Weekend ahead:
Oktoberfest at local brewery
Texas Book Festival
Halloween Parties!!!
Mt. Bonnell
I've never like Taylor Swift - yes catchy pop song that get stuck in your head - but no - never felt the need to actually purchase or enjoy her songs on purpose. Just on accident when in the gym or airport, catching myself tapping my foot.
Her recent single "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together" is about when she dated Jake Gyllenhaal. I always though that post-Broke Back, Gyllenhaal turned into a BIG ASSHOLE. He all of a sudden was dating Reese Witherspoon and biking w/ Lance Armstrong and I no longer thought he had any indie cred left. In a similar vein, Jake supposedly felt Taylor had no "indie cred" either:
Taylor's newest assault on ears "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together" is supposedly about Jake Gyllenhaal, and she tells USA Today (via WOW Report)
that she wrote that Pee Chee folder poem of a song as an act of revenge
against her ex. Taylor's ex hates the kind of music she makes, so she
purposefully wrote a bubble gum shit song that would get tons of play
and torture him everywhere he went.
"He made me feel like I wasn't as good or as relevant as these hipster
bands he listened to. So I made a song that I knew would absolutely
drive him crazy when he heard it on the radio. Not only would it
hopefully be played a lot, so that he'd have to hear it, but it's the
opposite of the kind of music that he was trying to make me feel
inferior to."
And when USA Today asked her why would she want to torment someone, she said, "Because that's fun."
I like Taylor Swift SO MUCH MORE NOW. She confirmed my belief that Jake Gyllenhaal had turned into a DOUCHE post-Broke Back.
I also admire the fact that Taylor is willing to share this juicy shit with her fans just in order to give her exes the hardcore middle finger, without resorting to depression or violence. It may not be the "polite" thing to do, but i agree with her, "it's fun" for all those involved. Most of all the fans, most likely NOT those parties involved.
I just had the best weekend ever. I ate and drank at a wine bar on a "first date". Hot man, good food. The two best things in life, really. After that I went out
dancing w/ my friend to High Ball for 80s nite. SO. MUCH. FUN. During 99
Luftballoons balloons fell from the ceiling. It was fun to get my
groove on. :)
Saturday I held the event, "Home Movie Day". I've
been doing PR on this event and it had a special place in my heart.
Like-minded people got together and watched Home film from the
1930s-2006. amazing memories were shared. My favorites included a
wealthy 1930s toddler swinging in her backyard and then celebrating her
older brother's 4th birthday. Another favorite was a film of a 1930s
Chinese-American family in San Francisco, eating dumplings (that looked
mouth watering) and chilling out in their living room.
After
that, i had an AMAZING sushi meal w/ my friend Jen. and i spent a lot.
:) nigiri, yakitori, Japanese pub food, asahi yessssssss. Then i watched
Pulp Fiction for the first time and went to watch the UT/Baylor game at
my favorite corner bar w/ my roommate.
Sunday I
swam in Barton Springs and saw Owen Wilson and Woody Harrelson
swimming there as well. Swimming in the spring makes me feel like a
mermaid - the seaweed gets tangled around my legs and arms and i sweep
it away as i swim. Swimming in October! who knew. After that we went to a
macrobiotic cafe and had dinner. It made me feel like Gwenyth Paltrow.
Then
me and Stacey went to Lush. They gave us a color reading, I got
"Motivated", "Fantasy" and "Lifted". Stacey got "Ambition" Dynamic" and
"Feeling secure".
