site-related 1 Comment

Even More Linky Love!

This one’s a first: I’ve never been to this person’s website before now, so it’s not just a reciprocal link (i.e. ‘thanks for linking to me’). Michelle must have found my site from *somewhere*, and thought it blogworthy enough to blogroll. That’s my link, there, circled, right above the link to Dooce.

That’s pretty cool.

Being in someone’s blogroll is cool, I mean, not necessarily being listed next to Dooce. Although that’s pretty cool, too.

Thanks, Michelle! I appreciate the shout-out. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. (Or maybe I’m just getting Aaron’s cold.)

ruminations

Blue Funk

I’ve been in one hell of a down mood today. I’m still exhausted from yesterday’s drumcorps rehearsal (90 minute drive to Clawson, another hour in a carpool up to Attica, six-hour rehearsal, then an hour of wrapping-up and eating of pizza, then an hour of riding back to my car and another hour and a half drive home).

But, on top of being severely tired, I had another fucked-up dream last night, which sent me for a tailspin all day. I’ll tell you what, I am getting mighty tired of these dreams where I end up romantically involved (or almost) with someone who isn’t Aaron, and then I wake up feeling guilty and wondering what it all means.
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randomness

I Wish

I wish I could just clip my nails and pick up my guitar after at least a month or two of not playing… and play for more than ten minutes before my fingertips turn warm and swollen, and have clean chord changes and firm hand strength.

I wish I could plug in my keyboard after months and months of not playing… and be able to coordinate my left hand with my right like I could by the end of Class Piano. (Which still wasn’t all that.)

I wish I could remember how to hear the songs in my head and let them out, like I did before I heard so much honestly good music and lyrics and became self-conscious about my own.

I wish I still had an instrument that I felt was *mine*. One where I could just think a about note or an interval or a melody, and then play it, without fracking or sliding or guessing.

I wish I’d stuck with my music more. I wish I weren’t so rusty. I wish I hadn’t managed to let even my voice go to shit.

I wish there were more hours in the day.

randomness 1 Comment

Girlie Stuff

I was looking through my old journals from Junior High, for some details about, well, when I “became a woman,” as my mother would put it. I discovered that my journals are nearly impossible for me to read now without a.) cringing at my naivete and stupidity, b.) being amazed that I used to write like an 8th grader, and c.) wondering why the hell I wrote about such trivial shit when I could have written about important things, like switching from pads to tampons.

o.O

Gentlemen, you’ll want to skip the rest of this entry. Really. It’s for “women” only.
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