Wednesday, December 28, 2011

Iszy Bitzy Witzy

Scrappy knees, bleary eyes, foggy brain and aching loins. Dust yourself off and brush the cobwebs from your hair.  So I'm not quite as shiny as a new penny, it's a start.

Echo and The Bunnymen - Do It Clean

Photo via CBG

Friday, December 23, 2011

As Fast As I Pick It Up

Tonight chats, so many beautiful thoughts.  About music and its ephemeral relativity, existence, belief, religion, our meaning to those things, our niche in the world, yoga and its most significant influence on journeys physical and otherwise.  So epic and grand, my attempts at summary now would be laughable.  Dear void, you calm me.  But there is something else...

The holidays are so very hard for me and I already feel the claws of grief and loneliness attempting the clutch expedition.  In the last few days, I find myself shrugging my right shoulder with a form of existential Tourettes.  As if this will be enough to keep that demon from clawing its way into my ear.

Like an addict, the meetings keep me sane but it's the quiet paradox that scares me.   An addict can't say no when it's right there.  Did I ever tell you my middle name is Elise?   After Mom died I listened to this religiously.  And then later, even more. This video kills me in the most profound way. 

Photo via eliftanman 

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

The Fault Lines Run Deep

Tackle one addiction at a time kids.  At least that's what the powers that be always say.  Typically I subscribe more to the All Or Nothing school of thought.  Hence why breaking habits and more so, addictions, perpetually alludes me.  That and I'm also one stubborn rebellious bitch who revels in hedonism.  On an otherwise dull uneventful evening, it's also fun to play the What Can You Substitute For What game.  You know!  Also known as The Barter Game, i.e. I'll trade it for that, if you give me this instead of whats-it.

I don't know much about Moving Units but with lyrics like these, I'm not complaining.

You control me
I'm your machine
You expose me
It's so obscene
But when you touch me with your alien embrace
You know it makes me deny the human race

You control me
I'm your machine
You dispose me
It's so obscene
But when you touch me with your alien embrace
You know it makes me deny the human race

I am your slave... until you throw me away

P.S.  Try this recipe - it's ridiculously addictive especially with oodles of vino.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Christmas Sneer

After a few hours of Christmas carding, my Santa elf kicked in and I had the bright idea to pull out the Do Not Open Christmas box of decorations I've kept hidden from myself.  Well the lights are dead but the wine is flowing.  This song is a definite on my Winter Mix.

Behavior with Andrea Revel - Clap!  Shake!  Jump!

Day of Worship

Are you still out there?  Hopefully I didn't freak you out with my angry swear word inspired rant the other day.  Yeaaah, about that... what could I say that Mr. T can say better?

Surprise surprise I don't attend church on Sundays, instead I like to worship brunch foods in my pajamas so much more.  Incidentally, if you're into this sort of thing, I'm dying to try this recipe for vegan, soy and gluten-free bacon.  Also, jonesing for one of these gorgeous creatures [as a pet, not to eat!]  Such an Eve.

Last night was my law firm's Christmas party.  Have you ever noticed that office parties are pretty much guaranteed to be awkward affairs?  Frenemy coworkers in fancy dress surrounded by free booze is just asking for trouble.   My boss made a weird comment about how "this sort of party is just about the most fun you can have once you get married.  That's my wife right there."  Did I mention they booked Hank Williams, Jr in his "only private event concert of the year"?  I suppose he is some sort of iconic legend to some but I'm sure it will come as no surprise I spent most of my time worshiping my champagne flute, the chocolate-covered strawberries and giggling with my best friend.

Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Cuss Post

Fuck diplomacy, fuck logic... it seems most of them don't fucking get it anyway.  Throw your hands up in the air.  ICH GIBT AUF.  What the fuck does it even goddamn matter how diplomatically anyone spells it out??   They're too stupidly small-minded and shrewd-hearted it will never fucking matter anyway.  Such selfish simple-minded parameciums.  Gnash your teeth, punch the table and beg for objectivity.  Bite your tongue even and shout your favorite word.  FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.  When smacking someone is the only remedy...

The Dead Weather - I'm Mad

Duh I'm mad - if I like you just stay out of my way, ok?

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Reason #11

Turns out there are some reasons to like those nefarious social networking sites.  Not very many granted, but today became one of those rare I Like This Blasted Site days.  Today The Chapman Family [remember when I posted about them?] posted a video covering Morrissey's [remember when I posted about HIM?] Everyday Is Like Sunday.

Moody, slow and pretty it reminds me of Leonard Cohen, Nick Cave and all manner of soft dark things.  With that description, what's not to like??  If you don't, I'm not sure we can be friends.  Kingsley Chapman commented on my post and created instant dialogue; actually he trolled my friend and it's pretty hilarious.

Me: It's slower than the original and very much unlike their other tunes but still so moody and pretty. [X not a peep :)]  
Kingsley:  Why would your friend peep?! Glad you like it though over there in the Land of the Free.
Me:  She hates Moz and The Smiths AND she's over on your side of that big pond. I need you to track her down and school her. Looking forward to hearing the new ep.
Kingsley:  Bet she's not a vegetarian either!  

This would never have happened in my two target bygone eras.  This day,  not too shabby my friends, not too shabby.  For more Morrissey love and tunage, mosey on over to Lazer Guided Melody.  He does my Gay Daddy justice in a way I never could.

Monday, December 12, 2011

The Lull

Cat's Eyes - Bandit


The Spell!

Spit.  Yes.   Taste it, writhe.  I'm breaking.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Indecision Tributary

Today my boss spelled my name right for the first time, ever.  I bought a new candle and incense to make my home smell woodsy and warm because your home says a lot about you, apparently.  If we're telling the truth, I bought these smelloids to cover up the cigarette smoke that inevitably fogs my abode while I write these posts.  I've gone through four can openers and three wine openers this year.   Martha Stewart would hate me.

Do you believe in signs?  I can never decide definitively if it's the brain's way of comforting the psyche or the universe screaming, "Look you idiot!  I'm trying to tell you something but you're too blind to see it so here, let me make it really Sesame Street easy."  Bam!  Last night, my squirrely grandmother [who has Alzheimer's] and I had a surprisingly very rare cogent exchange.  Sometimes, our conversations repeat on a loop every two minutes but last night I had a glimpse of the woman who taught me so much.  Forty glorious minutes of my most favorite person in the entire world.  We always used to wax about the world, existence, relationships.  Unknowingly, she gave me the wisdom and words I've been needing to finally make a decision, if I were smart enough I would heed them.

If I believe in signs, this is a big one, along with the fortune cookie I opened but ironically cannot eat, "Follow your heart and you will be happy".  Snorts.  But what if your heart is a tributary?  How do you decide which channel to follow?   There are other signs as well.  Glaring-get-off-your-ass-we're-calling-you signs but when you're standing on the edge calling across the ocean to the other side and the other side ignores you, what do you do??   City shopping is hard, even harder than actual consumer shopping for this indecisive alumni, that is.  I've had my eye on a specific locale for a long, long while but recently I wonder if that would just be a recipe of heartache.  How to please a twin heart?  How to choose between a fantasy and pragmatics, the head and the heart?

Not to turn hokey-dokey over here, just a thought condiment in a random sandwich.  

The Faux Noise - We All Know That Someday We Will Die

The Faux Noise - Save Me

A big big thanks to The Faux Noise for making such catastrophically beautiful music.  Run, don't walk!  Also, please visit LGM, a brutally amazing source of music, and this one's source for TFN and so so so much more.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Lítill Dauði

Chad VanGaalen - Willow Tree

Take my body
Put it in a boat
Light it on fire
Send it out to sea

Long held Viking burial fantasy.  My body atop a funeral pire in a boat, not some behemoth ship, just a simple boat with a small white sail.  Set adrift in a Scandinavian fjord, surrounded by high cliffs with archers poised, bowstrings taut, the arrows aflame.  They fly swift and true setting my body ablaze and we, my body and I, float out to sea.  Maybe in a past life.

[Reminder:  must learn Icelandic]
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