The Walker Brothers - The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore
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I have loved this song for so long, 'coz isn't this how it feels?
At least for a little while...
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Cut Copy - Lights & Music
Cut Copy - Lights & Music
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This is where I am - trails of neon and wet pavement and drunken kisses, gleaming white and arms around me and hopping through your window around midnight...
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This is where I am - trails of neon and wet pavement and drunken kisses, gleaming white and arms around me and hopping through your window around midnight...
Sunday, October 4, 2009
long time, no post - let's fix this travesty!

My goodness gracious... it's been a long couple of months.
Lots of work. Lots of drinking. Lots of, um, turning 30.
I had a bizarre accident! See that picture above, yep, that's me about a month ago.
My advice to all of you is to - a) always remember to put your car in park and b) seriously consider not wearing flip-flops everywhere.

But I did hobble myself around quite nicely (blessed with good balance I am) and saw many a waterfall, like this one shown here - buried in the forest, right off the Blue Ridge Parkway.
*
My admission was accepted at ICC, so now I am one test and a shit-ton of money away from getting my B.A. in broadcasting. Which, as many people have pointed out out to me, is what I should have done from the get-go.
Maybe so, but I didn't have the confidence to really 'live the dream' several years ago.
Now I do, so now is the time.
Honestly, I am awesome. It is about time that more of the world knows this. Hence, my takeover of the airwaves. BEWARE.
*
And songs of the moment are....................................
http://www.mediafire.com/?mizyggymj4o
http://www.mediafire.com/?n2qqyywe1jn
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Talk about BSG and the story and other things...
Right. So I will give spoiler space for anyone who might read this and not want to be ruined for the last Battlestar Galactica episode ever.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I loved it. Every frakkin' second of it. It was reflective and metaphoric. It was violent and sad. It was beautiful.
Was especially transfixed by the memories of all on Caprica before the fall.
Laura was always running after her life and trying to save someone.
Kara was always torn in-two by her wants, was always trying to find her true path.
Bill was always going to be a captain and a survivor.
Lee was always going to try and hold on to people, to his own idealism, to his heart.
Sam was always going to be trying for perfection and for a perfect moment.
Ellen and Tigh were always going to be together, no matter the circumstances.
Baltar was always going to fail and seek a chance at redemption.
Six was always trying to be more human then actual human-beings.
Everyone had their part to play and it was obvious. It was well-done, well-written, well-acted.
Great space battles. A gorgeous planet that they can all live on. Kara is exactly what I thought she was - only around for a brief time in order to make things 'right'.
Nearly wept over Laura and Adama.
And yes! Good-bye Cavil!
*
Now, the Najara/Gabrielle/Xena story is going well. I've had my tough parts... frankly, that is all Najara. I can get into the head of Xena and Gabrielle easily. But Najara is a hard nut to crack. Admittedly, I must make some of it up (ie - her past). However, just expressing her motives is difficult sometimes. The character does not reveal too much in the episode, not until the last... twenty minutes or so. It is all goodness and the Light and so forth.
So her exposition might be sparse in the beginning. She will get more time, though. She has to [lol].
Yesterday was a crazy damn day. Full of lows and highs, jerking me around for just a little bit.
Lows: Cable was out for a bit, bats in the chimney and a HUGE water bill due to fuck-ups in Charlotte. Oh yea, the damn almonds.
Highs: Cable got fixed, bats now gone, bill reluctantly paid (GROAN). Oh yea, almonds didn't matter as much as originally thought [lol].
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I loved it. Every frakkin' second of it. It was reflective and metaphoric. It was violent and sad. It was beautiful.
Was especially transfixed by the memories of all on Caprica before the fall.
Laura was always running after her life and trying to save someone.
Kara was always torn in-two by her wants, was always trying to find her true path.
Bill was always going to be a captain and a survivor.
Lee was always going to try and hold on to people, to his own idealism, to his heart.
Sam was always going to be trying for perfection and for a perfect moment.
Ellen and Tigh were always going to be together, no matter the circumstances.
Baltar was always going to fail and seek a chance at redemption.
Six was always trying to be more human then actual human-beings.
Everyone had their part to play and it was obvious. It was well-done, well-written, well-acted.
Great space battles. A gorgeous planet that they can all live on. Kara is exactly what I thought she was - only around for a brief time in order to make things 'right'.
Nearly wept over Laura and Adama.
And yes! Good-bye Cavil!
*
Now, the Najara/Gabrielle/Xena story is going well. I've had my tough parts... frankly, that is all Najara. I can get into the head of Xena and Gabrielle easily. But Najara is a hard nut to crack. Admittedly, I must make some of it up (ie - her past). However, just expressing her motives is difficult sometimes. The character does not reveal too much in the episode, not until the last... twenty minutes or so. It is all goodness and the Light and so forth.
So her exposition might be sparse in the beginning. She will get more time, though. She has to [lol].
Yesterday was a crazy damn day. Full of lows and highs, jerking me around for just a little bit.
Lows: Cable was out for a bit, bats in the chimney and a HUGE water bill due to fuck-ups in Charlotte. Oh yea, the damn almonds.
Highs: Cable got fixed, bats now gone, bill reluctantly paid (GROAN). Oh yea, almonds didn't matter as much as originally thought [lol].
Saturday, February 14, 2009
what was and what is
Read a little article about Diane Keaton and how she is writing a memoir about her mother. The article author posed the question: 'What would you write about your own mother?'
So, I am taking up this query and attempting to answer it. It's story-time.
* * *
We were not always close.
Years spent with secret anger and sturdy walls between us, blocking our eyes from something better than just familial love - keeping us from friendship, from understanding.
Unlike so many others, it was not the kicking up of my sexuality that caused any grief in this relationship. It was the years my mother spent trying to heal her own past, it was the sorrow that only her eyes could see and the fear only she could feel... It was the war my mother fought from the earliest of days, spilling out to her own children.
I don't know what my sisters experienced. They had different fathers and different demons than I. But the world I grew up in was insular, a strange country hippie family where both parents struggled with past abuses and tried to create something new in their child.
My mother was over-protective to a scary degree. She did not trust the world and would not let me wander into it. Under this timid skin lurked a beast - at once terrifying and beautiful - and this woman would come out in waves.
She battled disease and despair. She allowed herself peace sparingly.
I still recall her dressing up as the Wicked Witch of the West for every Halloween. It is only now that I see the meaning at her chance at total revelation, at showing us who she thought she was and, perhaps, what she wished to be.
Magical and powerful, magical and powerful, my mother in all her green-skinned glory.
A witch trying to outrun her own demise.
I never thought we would be close.
I resented her caution and her tirades. I feared her as much as I loved her. And I was wary that we would forever be tied to each other, that our mother-daughter bond would make us symbiotic.
I depended on her mood swings like air. We lived like this for years, feeding off each other and using each other, all in the name of love.
The fear had been realized.
So much time has past since those years.
The work my mother continued to do finally paid off, giving her the opportunity to forgive her own parents and to let go of all this anguish.
And I, in my own self-work, finally allowed myself to see my mother.
To see her love and devotion, her sacrifices for me and her acceptance of me. We buried all our old grievances, forgiveness given with tears and embraces.
I can say now, with no doubt and with smile on my face, that I love my mother.
I love her joy and her heart. I love her spirit and her determination.
She is the strongest woman I know, the most giving and most compassionate, full of self-taught smarts and talent, full of dreams and desires.
I am not a big believer in god or heaven. But I do believe that who we meet in this lifetime is with a reason. We chose each other as mother and daughter.
And I would not trade her for another.
I intend to see this witch in the sky once more, to watch her fly high and shine with the moon.
To my mother, Linda Goodnight, I love you.
Friday, February 13, 2009
at the end of the day, it is just five
All the footnotes within this book of Sappho translations are fascinating. I love words. I love their meanings and their connections to times forgotten.
Dinner with my sister tonight was good, as always. And, like once before, I try to stop things with my left hand. I need to stop doing that. The pain is quick to leave... but it is not the best course of action.
So, I leave this with poetry. No... I don't rhyme. That is not how I function.
* * *
turning and turning
this purple stone
with my swelled up fingers
holding the silver string
how quickly you are there
how quickly you were never here
questions asked
but i know the answers
upon this dirty floor
in front of this heater
how quickly you are a memory
how quickly you are too clear
turning...
and i forget your face
turning...
and i can't stop wanting
turning...
and i hesitate over the numbers
turning...
and i throw away your picture
turning...
and how quickly you are a figment and reality
put this magic away
call it a night
setting aside sleepless dreaming
how quickly... how quickly you...
how quickly
you just
falter
and fade
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