posted by laura at
3:14 PM
Monday, April 29, 2002
lyrics for today: 'someone you should know' lisa loeb
who do you think you are?
you're talking so loud
you bury the sound
of your heart that's singing out
and where do you want to be?
on top of the world
but you're just a girl
who forgot what it's like to dream
leave everything behind
but you're so tired
one day you might open up your eyes and find
what you've got isn't what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
what you've got isn't what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
someone you should know
you try to hide between the lines
of a story never told
but i've seen you run away
you're afraid of the fall
the weight of it all is too much
but you might change your mind
if you'd stand up one day
you might open your eyes and find
what you've got isn't what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
what you've got isn't what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
someone you should know
la da da da
la da da da
la da da da
la da da da
la da da da
how do you keep it up?
it's all just a frong
a dangerous stunt
you're gonna come down soon enough
open up your eyes
don't be scared
you might find you had it all the time
what you've got is what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
what you tried so hard to hide
it was there between the lines
of the story never told
of someone you should know
what you've got is what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
someone you should know
what you've got is what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
someone you should know
i'm ever pondering why the hardest person to ever get to know is ourselves. i mean, why should it be that way? we live and breathe within the walls of our skin and bones. breathe through our own lungs. dream from our own psyches. think with our own brains. there are no thoughts that really get unnoticed. no secrets left to tell ourselves.
or are there?
maybe we tell ourselves the biggest lies of all. maybe we swallow our thoughts before we even have the opportunity to acknowledge them. perhaps we self-censor so well, that even we don't see it. or maybe we are just the last to know what *we* want. but why?
i want to know who i am, more than i do. i want to shake hands with myself and say "okay, yes, i understand." shouldn't that be easy?
i wish it were.
but i find myself struggling, even about the simple, mundane things. i am so used to projecting everyone's needs in front of me, on a big screen, and following the paths of others. i don't really know what my wants and needs look like, any more. (or did i ever know?)
i look to everything to help me on this quest. my writing. this. *right now*. music. dreams. silent moments when i can't not listen to myself. but, still i come back up confused. i'm still wondering. pondering. questioning everything. and, maybe that's okay. maybe that is how it is all meant to be. i just don't know. and i feel so tired of the not knowing.
guilty pleasure of the day: poppy z. brite books
they are that genre of horror/eroticism/gory/pleasure type of reading. not something i'd write in a "my writing is inspired by" list, but still so delicious. so addicting. so guilty-pleasure-worthy. some people reach for a trashy romance or a mystery series...but for me, it's poppy's view of horror. it just gets me in that rather base and giddy way. if that makes sense.
website of the day: http://www.poppyzbrite.com/
poppy herself. this is a great site. stunning bio and photos. q&a with poppy. and some keen surprises (like the fact that poppy has a wish list on amazon.com).
laura f
who do you think you are?
you're talking so loud
you bury the sound
of your heart that's singing out
and where do you want to be?
on top of the world
but you're just a girl
who forgot what it's like to dream
leave everything behind
but you're so tired
one day you might open up your eyes and find
what you've got isn't what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
what you've got isn't what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
someone you should know
you try to hide between the lines
of a story never told
but i've seen you run away
you're afraid of the fall
the weight of it all is too much
but you might change your mind
if you'd stand up one day
you might open your eyes and find
what you've got isn't what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
what you've got isn't what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
someone you should know
la da da da
la da da da
la da da da
la da da da
la da da da
how do you keep it up?
it's all just a frong
a dangerous stunt
you're gonna come down soon enough
open up your eyes
don't be scared
you might find you had it all the time
what you've got is what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
what you tried so hard to hide
it was there between the lines
of the story never told
of someone you should know
what you've got is what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
someone you should know
what you've got is what you wanted
what you need just happens to be
someone you should know
i'm ever pondering why the hardest person to ever get to know is ourselves. i mean, why should it be that way? we live and breathe within the walls of our skin and bones. breathe through our own lungs. dream from our own psyches. think with our own brains. there are no thoughts that really get unnoticed. no secrets left to tell ourselves.
or are there?
maybe we tell ourselves the biggest lies of all. maybe we swallow our thoughts before we even have the opportunity to acknowledge them. perhaps we self-censor so well, that even we don't see it. or maybe we are just the last to know what *we* want. but why?
i want to know who i am, more than i do. i want to shake hands with myself and say "okay, yes, i understand." shouldn't that be easy?
i wish it were.
but i find myself struggling, even about the simple, mundane things. i am so used to projecting everyone's needs in front of me, on a big screen, and following the paths of others. i don't really know what my wants and needs look like, any more. (or did i ever know?)
i look to everything to help me on this quest. my writing. this. *right now*. music. dreams. silent moments when i can't not listen to myself. but, still i come back up confused. i'm still wondering. pondering. questioning everything. and, maybe that's okay. maybe that is how it is all meant to be. i just don't know. and i feel so tired of the not knowing.
guilty pleasure of the day: poppy z. brite books
they are that genre of horror/eroticism/gory/pleasure type of reading. not something i'd write in a "my writing is inspired by" list, but still so delicious. so addicting. so guilty-pleasure-worthy. some people reach for a trashy romance or a mystery series...but for me, it's poppy's view of horror. it just gets me in that rather base and giddy way. if that makes sense.
website of the day: http://www.poppyzbrite.com/
poppy herself. this is a great site. stunning bio and photos. q&a with poppy. and some keen surprises (like the fact that poppy has a wish list on amazon.com).
laura f
posted by laura at
3:08 PM
Sunday, April 28, 2002
no lyrics today.
no guilty pleasure today.
no website of the day, today.
i'm too tired.
but, i just had to write that i just dig 'six feet under'. love it! yes, i do.
laura f
no guilty pleasure today.
no website of the day, today.
i'm too tired.
but, i just had to write that i just dig 'six feet under'. love it! yes, i do.
laura f
posted by laura at
10:30 PM
Saturday, April 27, 2002
lyrics for today: 'walk on the wild side' lou reed
holly came from miami fla
hitch-hiked her way across the usa.
plucked her eyebrows on the way
shaved her leg and then he was a she
she said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side,
said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side.
candy came from out on the island,
in the backroom she was everybody's darling,
but she never lost her head
even when she was given head
she said, hey baby, take a walk on the wild side
she said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
and the coloured girls go, doo doo doo, doo...
little joe never once gave it away
everybody had to pay and pay
a hustle here and a hustle there
new york city is the place where they said:
hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
i said hey joe, take a walk on the wild side
sugar plum fairy came and hit the streets
lookin' for soul food and a place to eat
went to the apollo
you should have seen him go go go
they said, hey sugar, take a walk on the wild side
i said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side
jackie is just speeding away
thought she was james dean for a day
then i guess she had to crash
valium would have helped that dash
she said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
i said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side
and the coloured girls say doo doo doo, doo...
i remember nights tucked within the steam and smoke and music on that far end of sunset boulevard. the cockroach. a tiny mexican style disco/bar. mirrors everywhere. the ball spinning. big, cheesy red leatherette booths. we knew everyone - her and i. we kissed just about everyone, too. as a greeting. a hello. gender-bending restrooms. conversations and flasks, mirrors with lines of powder, shared lipsticks, hairspray, make-out sessions all on the sink counters.
tongues and chapped-lips, cherry and ice and gin, paired and shared back and forth in the corners. "head" games in the back stairs. exchanges of everything. try this. what's your name. do i care. you smell like butterscotch. vanilla. lemon. sandalwood. lust. fishnet legs. or stripes. plaids. skirts. vinyl. bellbottems to fit in with the spins from the little window. he was so egotistical with his choices of sound. no requests.
i don't remember every moment of those sunday nights and early mornings, some of it was too blurred by insomnia-laced delirium. lack of sobriety. too many sames and differences on different nights, but with the same beat pulsing through your toes, your heart, your lips. but, i remember it in glimpses, snapshots, memory-clipsed everythings. and all of us sang doo doo doo, doo...
guilty pleasure of the day: the library
okay. perhaps the library shouldn't really count as a "guilty pleasure". is it too intellectual and superior to be? i don't know. to me it fits. i love to lose myself in it. to sort through the shelves i just saw last week. see the new releases. look things up. take a chance on something that just has "a really keen cover". you know, there is no cost to it. and there is always something new. if you look hard enough (hmmm, rather like life).
website of the day: http://www.pez.com/
how can you resist pez????????
laura f
holly came from miami fla
hitch-hiked her way across the usa.
plucked her eyebrows on the way
shaved her leg and then he was a she
she said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side,
said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side.
candy came from out on the island,
in the backroom she was everybody's darling,
but she never lost her head
even when she was given head
she said, hey baby, take a walk on the wild side
she said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
and the coloured girls go, doo doo doo, doo...
little joe never once gave it away
everybody had to pay and pay
a hustle here and a hustle there
new york city is the place where they said:
hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
i said hey joe, take a walk on the wild side
sugar plum fairy came and hit the streets
lookin' for soul food and a place to eat
went to the apollo
you should have seen him go go go
they said, hey sugar, take a walk on the wild side
i said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side
jackie is just speeding away
thought she was james dean for a day
then i guess she had to crash
valium would have helped that dash
she said, hey babe, take a walk on the wild side
i said, hey honey, take a walk on the wild side
and the coloured girls say doo doo doo, doo...
i remember nights tucked within the steam and smoke and music on that far end of sunset boulevard. the cockroach. a tiny mexican style disco/bar. mirrors everywhere. the ball spinning. big, cheesy red leatherette booths. we knew everyone - her and i. we kissed just about everyone, too. as a greeting. a hello. gender-bending restrooms. conversations and flasks, mirrors with lines of powder, shared lipsticks, hairspray, make-out sessions all on the sink counters.
tongues and chapped-lips, cherry and ice and gin, paired and shared back and forth in the corners. "head" games in the back stairs. exchanges of everything. try this. what's your name. do i care. you smell like butterscotch. vanilla. lemon. sandalwood. lust. fishnet legs. or stripes. plaids. skirts. vinyl. bellbottems to fit in with the spins from the little window. he was so egotistical with his choices of sound. no requests.
i don't remember every moment of those sunday nights and early mornings, some of it was too blurred by insomnia-laced delirium. lack of sobriety. too many sames and differences on different nights, but with the same beat pulsing through your toes, your heart, your lips. but, i remember it in glimpses, snapshots, memory-clipsed everythings. and all of us sang doo doo doo, doo...
guilty pleasure of the day: the library
okay. perhaps the library shouldn't really count as a "guilty pleasure". is it too intellectual and superior to be? i don't know. to me it fits. i love to lose myself in it. to sort through the shelves i just saw last week. see the new releases. look things up. take a chance on something that just has "a really keen cover". you know, there is no cost to it. and there is always something new. if you look hard enough (hmmm, rather like life).
website of the day: http://www.pez.com/
how can you resist pez????????
laura f
posted by laura at
11:34 AM
Friday, April 26, 2002
things i'm tired of:
1. the constant immaturity and superficiality that i hear in the media and out of so many mouths about women. comments like "looks like has put on some pounds!", "hot girls always hang out with ugly fat chicks.", "who cares what she thinks, she's so smoking hot!", "well, she's rather matronly, but i suppose i'd do her." and, yes, these are overheard comments from people i know, work with, and also media comments on the radio and t.v. ugh. ugh. ugh. does this never end? i hurt for my own shaky self-esteem. i hurt for my beautiful and intelligent female friends. i hurt for my two daughters. i've fucking had enough of this kind of bullshit.
2. again, more immaturity and ignorance. more overheard conversations either in the media or in-person. "being gay is not something you are born with, it's a choice you make, intentionally.", "homosexuals are not monogamous, they are only interested in finding as many people to fuck as possible.", "they even have code words for sex. like okay, at 2pm today, you and i, sex. it isn't anything about a lifestyle. it is just about sex.", "the reason for most sexual deviancy is choices like same sex sexuality.", "god created adam and eve, not adam and steve!" argh. how? how? how? how is it possible that in this bloody day and age there is still so much of this crap being said, talked about, believed? i just want to scream. cry. find another fucking planet to live on.
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
laura f
1. the constant immaturity and superficiality that i hear in the media and out of so many mouths about women. comments like "looks like
2. again, more immaturity and ignorance. more overheard conversations either in the media or in-person. "being gay is not something you are born with, it's a choice you make, intentionally.", "homosexuals are not monogamous, they are only interested in finding as many people to fuck as possible.", "they even have code words for sex. like okay, at 2pm today, you and i, sex. it isn't anything about a lifestyle. it is just about sex.", "the reason for most sexual deviancy is choices like same sex sexuality.", "god created adam and eve, not adam and steve!" argh. how? how? how? how is it possible that in this bloody day and age there is still so much of this crap being said, talked about, believed? i just want to scream. cry. find another fucking planet to live on.
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
laura f
posted by laura at
5:39 PM
lyrics for today: 'transparent lovers' robyn hitchcock
on the horizon of the gulls and plovers
she saw the outline of transparent lovers
in a hotel room underneath the covers
who should i see but the transparent lovers
why is she built that way i soon discovered
try to embrace her your transparent lover
try to belong to her you won't recover
see your reflected in your transparent lover
gone lord, gone, gone
fade boy, fade
gone lord, gone, gone
faintly above the cliffs they held each other
one is the angel, one's the transparent lovers
your going to lose her like you lost your mother
but you'll remember your transparent lover
all men are killers or they're killers brothers
i'm going to die for my transparent lover
my transparent lover
gone lord, gone, gone
fade boy, fade
gone lord, gone, gone
summery phantom as she fade she hovers
i'm going to find her my transparent lover
my transparent lover
this month it will be a year since his mother's death. another reminder of a long line of people leaving him. me included. i've left him twice in the years we've known one another. and i don't regret those times. i used to. but i realize, now, the necessity of my actions. but, i also know, that it adds to the fire of insecurity that burns just under the surface of him. and that there is some hidden, subconscious time clock ticking ticking ticking away, inside him. waiting for me to leave. again.
truth is, i don't intend to leave. not like it has never crossed my mind and heart. it most certainly has. but there are things that have changed within me. within him. between us. that make that idea of leaving seem false and vague. but, even though it is not in my idealized plans, it is still a pressure to have someone fear your departure -- even when that fear isn't valid or rational. it makes me feel like i have to make promises, again and again. plead. argue. re-state. again and again. and i can't help but resent that, at times. i shouldn't have to say it. over and over. "i'm not going to leave." it is too much to keep saying. and the promises sound empty. feel empty. are empty.
guilty pleasure of the day: t.v. guide.
as silly as it may sound, i love t.v. guide. i remember as a child my grandmother always bought them a the store, and i found some huge pleasure in going through it, front to back. scanning the shows and the days. and doing the crossword at the back. now i get the t.v. guide at work, and i still feel a tiny thrill going through it...and yes, sometimes i still do the crossword.
website of the day: http://www.tvguide.com/
in honor of my guilty pleasure :)
laura f
on the horizon of the gulls and plovers
she saw the outline of transparent lovers
in a hotel room underneath the covers
who should i see but the transparent lovers
why is she built that way i soon discovered
try to embrace her your transparent lover
try to belong to her you won't recover
see your reflected in your transparent lover
gone lord, gone, gone
fade boy, fade
gone lord, gone, gone
faintly above the cliffs they held each other
one is the angel, one's the transparent lovers
your going to lose her like you lost your mother
but you'll remember your transparent lover
all men are killers or they're killers brothers
i'm going to die for my transparent lover
my transparent lover
gone lord, gone, gone
fade boy, fade
gone lord, gone, gone
summery phantom as she fade she hovers
i'm going to find her my transparent lover
my transparent lover
this month it will be a year since his mother's death. another reminder of a long line of people leaving him. me included. i've left him twice in the years we've known one another. and i don't regret those times. i used to. but i realize, now, the necessity of my actions. but, i also know, that it adds to the fire of insecurity that burns just under the surface of him. and that there is some hidden, subconscious time clock ticking ticking ticking away, inside him. waiting for me to leave. again.
truth is, i don't intend to leave. not like it has never crossed my mind and heart. it most certainly has. but there are things that have changed within me. within him. between us. that make that idea of leaving seem false and vague. but, even though it is not in my idealized plans, it is still a pressure to have someone fear your departure -- even when that fear isn't valid or rational. it makes me feel like i have to make promises, again and again. plead. argue. re-state. again and again. and i can't help but resent that, at times. i shouldn't have to say it. over and over. "i'm not going to leave." it is too much to keep saying. and the promises sound empty. feel empty. are empty.
guilty pleasure of the day: t.v. guide.
as silly as it may sound, i love t.v. guide. i remember as a child my grandmother always bought them a the store, and i found some huge pleasure in going through it, front to back. scanning the shows and the days. and doing the crossword at the back. now i get the t.v. guide at work, and i still feel a tiny thrill going through it...and yes, sometimes i still do the crossword.
website of the day: http://www.tvguide.com/
in honor of my guilty pleasure :)
laura f
posted by laura at
3:08 PM
'signals'
in the beginning there were signs and slogans
wisping through the breeze of our words
conversations
and i let them fly on by
ignoring their definitions and declines
i wanted to twist truth into something keen and bright
you were the one speaking circles around me
i was jumping through hoops
one two three
i wrote a thousand sentiments in cherry lipgloss
sticky and sweet as they clung to your jaw
and we just closed our eyes and went headfirst into a blank sky
these are the puzzle pieces that fall out of the box
moments that one could thread back together
into a life
long ago i thought are names could overlap into one
multiplying and lying to ourselves as we ran to the finish line
but now i sit and wonder at the state of our reactions
count syllables and suicide looks that sting my eyes
as you spell it all out
we travelled this far to find holes in our pockets
do you want me to patch them and pretend we are whole
do we trip ourselves forward -- or look back at this pooled reflection and know?
laura f
in the beginning there were signs and slogans
wisping through the breeze of our words
conversations
and i let them fly on by
ignoring their definitions and declines
i wanted to twist truth into something keen and bright
you were the one speaking circles around me
i was jumping through hoops
one two three
i wrote a thousand sentiments in cherry lipgloss
sticky and sweet as they clung to your jaw
and we just closed our eyes and went headfirst into a blank sky
these are the puzzle pieces that fall out of the box
moments that one could thread back together
into a life
long ago i thought are names could overlap into one
multiplying and lying to ourselves as we ran to the finish line
but now i sit and wonder at the state of our reactions
count syllables and suicide looks that sting my eyes
as you spell it all out
we travelled this far to find holes in our pockets
do you want me to patch them and pretend we are whole
do we trip ourselves forward -- or look back at this pooled reflection and know?
laura f
posted by laura at
12:56 PM
Thursday, April 25, 2002
lyrics for today: 'pagan poetry' bjork
pedalling through
the dark currents
i find
an accurate copy
a blueprint
of the pleasure
in me
swirling black lilies totally ripe
a secret code carved
swirling black lilies totally ripe
a secret code carved
he offers
a handshake
crooked
five fingers
they form a pattern
yet to be matched
on the surface simplicity
but the darkest pit in me
it's pagan poetry
pagan poetry
morsecoding signals (signals)
they pulsate (wake me up) and wake me up
(pulsate) from my hibernate
on the surface simplicity
swirling black lilies totally ripe
but the darkest pit in me
it's pagan poetry
swirling black lilies totally ripe
pagan poetry
swirling black lilies totally ripe
....
i love him, i love him
i love him, i love him
i love him, i love him
i love him, i love him
she loves him, she loves him
this time
she loves him, she loves him
i'm gonna keep me to myself
she loves him, she loves him
she loves him, she loves him
this time
i'm gonna keep my all to myself
she loves him, she loves him
and he makes me want to hand myself over
she loves him, she loves him
she loves him, she loves him
and he makes me want to hand myself over
love is passionate, even as it ages. the trick is recognizing the passion. sifting through the day-to-day regimes and routine, to find it. sometimes i find that i've forgotten it's existance. it does not like to be denied. instead it flares out in anger. sadness. jangled up emotional outbursts. and we work ourselves up for that hate-tinged battle, forgetting that it is just another side of passion. rearing it's head. saying "pay attention to me!"
last night i had to be reminded. harsh tones. slamming doors. and i fumed in secrecy. then more words colliding until we laughed. laughing at the silliness of it all. and falling in an embrace of love. another side of passion. so many vital vibrations and sounds. so much feeling between us. guess that is something, isn't it?
guilty pleasure of the day: lyrics
well, not only is it a guilty pleasure, but an obsession. i feel this drive to know the words. to read them. feel them. sing along, whether in my head or aloud. and even though i'll love music without lyrics -- or without lyrics that move me...my absolute favourite songs will always be those that take me, with their words, by the soul and never let go. a musical embrace.
website of the day: http://www.letssingit.com
another great source for lyrics.
laura f
pedalling through
the dark currents
i find
an accurate copy
a blueprint
of the pleasure
in me
swirling black lilies totally ripe
a secret code carved
swirling black lilies totally ripe
a secret code carved
he offers
a handshake
crooked
five fingers
they form a pattern
yet to be matched
on the surface simplicity
but the darkest pit in me
it's pagan poetry
pagan poetry
morsecoding signals (signals)
they pulsate (wake me up) and wake me up
(pulsate) from my hibernate
on the surface simplicity
swirling black lilies totally ripe
but the darkest pit in me
it's pagan poetry
swirling black lilies totally ripe
pagan poetry
swirling black lilies totally ripe
....
i love him, i love him
i love him, i love him
i love him, i love him
i love him, i love him
she loves him, she loves him
this time
she loves him, she loves him
i'm gonna keep me to myself
she loves him, she loves him
she loves him, she loves him
this time
i'm gonna keep my all to myself
she loves him, she loves him
and he makes me want to hand myself over
she loves him, she loves him
she loves him, she loves him
and he makes me want to hand myself over
love is passionate, even as it ages. the trick is recognizing the passion. sifting through the day-to-day regimes and routine, to find it. sometimes i find that i've forgotten it's existance. it does not like to be denied. instead it flares out in anger. sadness. jangled up emotional outbursts. and we work ourselves up for that hate-tinged battle, forgetting that it is just another side of passion. rearing it's head. saying "pay attention to me!"
last night i had to be reminded. harsh tones. slamming doors. and i fumed in secrecy. then more words colliding until we laughed. laughing at the silliness of it all. and falling in an embrace of love. another side of passion. so many vital vibrations and sounds. so much feeling between us. guess that is something, isn't it?
guilty pleasure of the day: lyrics
well, not only is it a guilty pleasure, but an obsession. i feel this drive to know the words. to read them. feel them. sing along, whether in my head or aloud. and even though i'll love music without lyrics -- or without lyrics that move me...my absolute favourite songs will always be those that take me, with their words, by the soul and never let go. a musical embrace.
website of the day: http://www.letssingit.com
another great source for lyrics.
laura f
posted by laura at
3:33 PM
Wednesday, April 24, 2002
lyrics of the day: 'white chocolate space egg' liz phair
orange and blue, green and pink
i see you in everything...
don't need money, don't need wine
i've got better ways to spend my time
i'll see you around
every hollow has its favorite sound
and my heart is holding on...
purple, yellow, reddish brown
once i felt you, i couldn't lay you down
don't be shy, baby, don't be careful with me
let it go, let it soak me down
every rock and tree and leaf abound with your face
your face, your face...
trace...
don't tell me I've been wrong...
don't tell me all the magic's gone
every corner has its favorite clown
i'll see you
some mornings i wake up, wipe my eyes, and cringe the day. delay. wrap myself deeper into my tangled sheets. try to make it all go away. but...then there are days like today. mornings when i can't help but notice the sun streaming it's way through the blinds. casting shadows on your skin.
mornings where i notice the damp curls of hair on the nape of your neck. the beauty in the intake and outtake of air, in your lungs. when i want to envelop you into me. take you in. hold you so close that we don't have an end. at all.
those are the mornings i notice all the colours around me. the new blossums on the tree next door. white and flowering. the three mallards quacking and waddling across the damp blades of grass. the blue streaks in the sky, wrestling for their place up there, with the clouds.
days when i notice the gold flecks in your eyes. the rosy pink tint of her cheeks as she runs in circles with words, in the kitchen. all that enthusiasm. i try to grab a hold and fly.
strange how days can start like this. sometimes.
guilty pleasure of the day: online quizzes
i've been addicted to quizzes since pre-adolescence. i remember sleepovers with stacks of cosmopolitian magazines. all the quiz pages torn out, well-worn, with the rainbow of multi-pen colours, taking the tests over and over again. well, now there are a gazillion (or so it seems) of these random quizzes online. i'm addicted all over again. and, even though i know they really don't mean anything at all, i love them.
website of the day: http://www.twinpeaksgazette.com/
the twin peaks gazette. i just found this last night, courtesy of a link my friend sent me about the twin peaks convention. i love this site!!!!!! satisfaction for my twin peaks/david lynch obsessions.
laura f
orange and blue, green and pink
i see you in everything...
don't need money, don't need wine
i've got better ways to spend my time
i'll see you around
every hollow has its favorite sound
and my heart is holding on...
purple, yellow, reddish brown
once i felt you, i couldn't lay you down
don't be shy, baby, don't be careful with me
let it go, let it soak me down
every rock and tree and leaf abound with your face
your face, your face...
trace...
don't tell me I've been wrong...
don't tell me all the magic's gone
every corner has its favorite clown
i'll see you
some mornings i wake up, wipe my eyes, and cringe the day. delay. wrap myself deeper into my tangled sheets. try to make it all go away. but...then there are days like today. mornings when i can't help but notice the sun streaming it's way through the blinds. casting shadows on your skin.
mornings where i notice the damp curls of hair on the nape of your neck. the beauty in the intake and outtake of air, in your lungs. when i want to envelop you into me. take you in. hold you so close that we don't have an end. at all.
those are the mornings i notice all the colours around me. the new blossums on the tree next door. white and flowering. the three mallards quacking and waddling across the damp blades of grass. the blue streaks in the sky, wrestling for their place up there, with the clouds.
days when i notice the gold flecks in your eyes. the rosy pink tint of her cheeks as she runs in circles with words, in the kitchen. all that enthusiasm. i try to grab a hold and fly.
strange how days can start like this. sometimes.
guilty pleasure of the day: online quizzes
i've been addicted to quizzes since pre-adolescence. i remember sleepovers with stacks of cosmopolitian magazines. all the quiz pages torn out, well-worn, with the rainbow of multi-pen colours, taking the tests over and over again. well, now there are a gazillion (or so it seems) of these random quizzes online. i'm addicted all over again. and, even though i know they really don't mean anything at all, i love them.
website of the day: http://www.twinpeaksgazette.com/
the twin peaks gazette. i just found this last night, courtesy of a link my friend sent me about the twin peaks convention. i love this site!!!!!! satisfaction for my twin peaks/david lynch obsessions.
laura f
posted by laura at
12:31 PM
album: 'this desert life'
artist: counting crows
label: geffen records
year: 1999
track list:
side 1:
1. hanginaround
2. mrs. potter's lullaby
3. amy hit the atmosphere
4. four days
5. all my friends
side 2:
1. high life
2. colorblind
3. i wish i was a girl
4. speedway
5. st. robinson in his cadillac dream
sleep. water. dreams. colour.
these are the four continuous themes that weave their way in and out of 'this desert life'. imagery that starts to dig in under your skin, putting these tinted glasses on your life-view. taps into these desires that we all carry with us, whether we reflect on them openly. or not.
personal. stolen. at times i feel like i've snuck into adam duritz bedroom and stolen his diary. read through the pages of his fears, loss, guilt, love, longing, wishes, disappointments. i don't pretend to completely understand. i don't know maria, or elizabeth, or amy. but there is something so relatable in the words. something so incredibly human. i can't help but sift through the songs and pull out parts that seem so me, i have to pin them up. sing along. feel along.
the album is broken up into two sides. something that seems unusual, especially since cd's are the listening choice of most audiences/consumers. but, i rather like the designation. the order that was chosen. and you can feel the transition between songs. the mood shifts. how side a starts so fun and playful with 'hanginaround' and drifts into thoughtfulness and regret with 'all my friends'. the realizations from someone who is hanging out with friends, seemingly carefree (with overheard bong tokes) to the eye-opening recollection that your friends have all found that elusive "someone" or "something" that you are still wandering and wondering about. wistfulness that carry you over to side two, when the dreamy 'high life' begins it's first melodic overture. then it is a more sublime ride. moody. melancholy. beautiful.
"well i woke up in mid-afternoon cause that's when it all hurts the most."
and we all feel along.
laura f
artist: counting crows
label: geffen records
year: 1999
track list:
side 1:
1. hanginaround
2. mrs. potter's lullaby
3. amy hit the atmosphere
4. four days
5. all my friends
side 2:
1. high life
2. colorblind
3. i wish i was a girl
4. speedway
5. st. robinson in his cadillac dream
sleep. water. dreams. colour.
these are the four continuous themes that weave their way in and out of 'this desert life'. imagery that starts to dig in under your skin, putting these tinted glasses on your life-view. taps into these desires that we all carry with us, whether we reflect on them openly. or not.
personal. stolen. at times i feel like i've snuck into adam duritz bedroom and stolen his diary. read through the pages of his fears, loss, guilt, love, longing, wishes, disappointments. i don't pretend to completely understand. i don't know maria, or elizabeth, or amy. but there is something so relatable in the words. something so incredibly human. i can't help but sift through the songs and pull out parts that seem so me, i have to pin them up. sing along. feel along.
the album is broken up into two sides. something that seems unusual, especially since cd's are the listening choice of most audiences/consumers. but, i rather like the designation. the order that was chosen. and you can feel the transition between songs. the mood shifts. how side a starts so fun and playful with 'hanginaround' and drifts into thoughtfulness and regret with 'all my friends'. the realizations from someone who is hanging out with friends, seemingly carefree (with overheard bong tokes) to the eye-opening recollection that your friends have all found that elusive "someone" or "something" that you are still wandering and wondering about. wistfulness that carry you over to side two, when the dreamy 'high life' begins it's first melodic overture. then it is a more sublime ride. moody. melancholy. beautiful.
"well i woke up in mid-afternoon cause that's when it all hurts the most."
and we all feel along.
laura f
posted by laura at
11:48 AM
Tuesday, April 23, 2002
lyrics for today: 'high life' counting crows
all my friends got flowers in their eyes
but i got none this season
all of the last ten years blooms have gone and died
time doesn't give a reason
hey baby, do you ask yourself sometimes
what you need to be forgiven?
everything that you've ever done wrong
is the reason that i'm driven
straight to you.
waiting here for you
wanting to tell you
how i get my ends and my beginnings mixed up too
just the way you do
thought if i told you
you might want to stay for just another day or two
waiting for the trains that just never come
beginning to believe in
the disappearing nature of the people we have been
we have begun to change into the worst kind of people
so unkind
oh apologies, no apologies, this apology
doesn't describe the way it feels to feel for you
waiting here for you
waiting here for you
wanting to tell you
how i find myself slowly disappearing too
just the way you do
thought if i told you
you might want to help me to remain with you
i just wanna stay for a little while
i wanna stay for a little while
there's a night life falling down on me
i just feel like a change
beneath the sun in the summer,
a sea of flowers won't bloom without the rain
but oh, this desert life, this high life
here at the dying end of the day
i wasn't made for this scene baby
but i was made in this scene
and baby it's just my way
i don't wanna go home alone, i wanna come on home to you
waiting here for you
wanting to tell you
how i line my sky with all the silver i can use
just the way you do
thought if i told you
you might want to stay for just another day or two
sometimes i think we've traversed this life, between us, inside and out. that there is nothing left to see. to say. sometimes i look into your eyes and feel like there is so much still undiscovered. layers of you i still don't know yet. and i trace back the time in our lives when it seemed so damn necessary to be next to each other. when all else failed. so many obstacles and disillusions. yet we were still reaching out. and we were both so confused. living our lives in this upside down sort of way. i wanted you to see that in me, the girl turned inside out, mixed up, baffled and jangly. yet i wanted you to see these things as potential. as something to cling to. i wanted you to cling to me. for me to cling to you.
and now we sit beside each other and mull about our lives. we are still seeking happiness, and sometimes look at each other with deep disdain. disappointed that this didn't bring everything we thought it would. but we are not the granter of wishes. we can not make it a happy ending. i don't even think it's ending, at all. but how do we sort through the missing pieces in our lives? how do we look beyond this table set between us, see the paths and doors. the world. the words we have left to speak?
i want to say so much to you. i want to apologize for who we are. i want to make it all better. but i don't have the language. the motions. the faintest idea where to begin. but, i know, i'm still waiting here for you.
guilty pleasure of the day: the powerpuff girls
how can i resist? superhero girls fighting crime, with spunky and funky personalities. doing things like taking whales home and trying to hide them, and fighting off the devil in drag, and a crazy monkey. good stuff.
website of the day: http://www.thewb.com/Shows/Show/0,7353,||153,00.html
felicity. yes. a past "guilty pleasure of the day". i watched another episode this afternoon. i'm strangely addicted to this show and will miss it when it's gone. i will!
laura f
all my friends got flowers in their eyes
but i got none this season
all of the last ten years blooms have gone and died
time doesn't give a reason
hey baby, do you ask yourself sometimes
what you need to be forgiven?
everything that you've ever done wrong
is the reason that i'm driven
straight to you.
waiting here for you
wanting to tell you
how i get my ends and my beginnings mixed up too
just the way you do
thought if i told you
you might want to stay for just another day or two
waiting for the trains that just never come
beginning to believe in
the disappearing nature of the people we have been
we have begun to change into the worst kind of people
so unkind
oh apologies, no apologies, this apology
doesn't describe the way it feels to feel for you
waiting here for you
waiting here for you
wanting to tell you
how i find myself slowly disappearing too
just the way you do
thought if i told you
you might want to help me to remain with you
i just wanna stay for a little while
i wanna stay for a little while
there's a night life falling down on me
i just feel like a change
beneath the sun in the summer,
a sea of flowers won't bloom without the rain
but oh, this desert life, this high life
here at the dying end of the day
i wasn't made for this scene baby
but i was made in this scene
and baby it's just my way
i don't wanna go home alone, i wanna come on home to you
waiting here for you
wanting to tell you
how i line my sky with all the silver i can use
just the way you do
thought if i told you
you might want to stay for just another day or two
sometimes i think we've traversed this life, between us, inside and out. that there is nothing left to see. to say. sometimes i look into your eyes and feel like there is so much still undiscovered. layers of you i still don't know yet. and i trace back the time in our lives when it seemed so damn necessary to be next to each other. when all else failed. so many obstacles and disillusions. yet we were still reaching out. and we were both so confused. living our lives in this upside down sort of way. i wanted you to see that in me, the girl turned inside out, mixed up, baffled and jangly. yet i wanted you to see these things as potential. as something to cling to. i wanted you to cling to me. for me to cling to you.
and now we sit beside each other and mull about our lives. we are still seeking happiness, and sometimes look at each other with deep disdain. disappointed that this didn't bring everything we thought it would. but we are not the granter of wishes. we can not make it a happy ending. i don't even think it's ending, at all. but how do we sort through the missing pieces in our lives? how do we look beyond this table set between us, see the paths and doors. the world. the words we have left to speak?
i want to say so much to you. i want to apologize for who we are. i want to make it all better. but i don't have the language. the motions. the faintest idea where to begin. but, i know, i'm still waiting here for you.
guilty pleasure of the day: the powerpuff girls
how can i resist? superhero girls fighting crime, with spunky and funky personalities. doing things like taking whales home and trying to hide them, and fighting off the devil in drag, and a crazy monkey. good stuff.
website of the day: http://www.thewb.com/Shows/Show/0,7353,||153,00.html
felicity. yes. a past "guilty pleasure of the day". i watched another episode this afternoon. i'm strangely addicted to this show and will miss it when it's gone. i will!
laura f
posted by laura at
5:22 PM
which "monty python and the holy grail" character are you?
this quiz was made by colleen
posted by laura at
10:33 AM
Monday, April 22, 2002
album: 'tigerlily'
artist: natalie merchant
label: elektra
year: 1995
track list:
1. san andreas fault
2. wonder
3. beloved wife
4. river
5. carnival
6. i may know the word
7. the letter
8. cowboy romance
9. jealousy
10. where i go
11. seven years
this album sings like a short story collection set to music. storytelling at it's finest, natalie merchant enters into her solo career with an album that is both ethereal and catchy. melodic. dreamy.
it begins with a political-10,000 maniacs feel of a song, the only one that really calls to mind her previous band, with san andreas fault. for those who followed her career with the maniacs, a song full of social injustice and a plea to humans that they cannot beat mother nature, is par for the course. but, even though this song feels familiar, it still rings heartfelt and beautiful.
'wonder' has the feel of a single, as does 'jealousy'. both of them bop on out of the speakers, with this dance-feel to it. you can't help but picture natalie herself spinning about to it, hair flailing, smile on her face. and listening to this now, years later, i see her doing just that -- in my head.
'river' is a tribute to the late river phoenix. though it also touches on the press and society's need for blood and gossip and scandal. it is a plea to just let this soul go. and those who loved him grieve in piece. it has been years since his death, as well. but it still has the heartbreak of young loss wrapped up in the music and lyrics.
'beloved wife' is another of natalie's stories. stepping into the psyche of a grieving widow. this is a song of both devastating pain and unbelievable true love. definately the love song of the album.
my personal favourite cuts off this album are 'where i go' and 'i may know the word'. both have some of the most soul-stripping lyrics. and they just braid themselves into my heart. singing along feels personal, to me. relatable. i feel truth and tears at the surface of my skin.
'carnival' was the first single off the album, and still one of the strongest songs on this. full of mystery and magic. makes you want to close your eyes and see the world as it looks through your own carnival glasses.
'seven years', 'the letter' and 'cowboy romance' are all strong songs. melody and natalie's hypnotic lyrics painting more stories. tales. characters that you long to know more of.
all in all, this is an album that you can discover and re-discover again and again. open your ears, let yourself see the empty canvas fill with notes and words and see the paint spread. the stories come alive. and, above all, hear natalie's gorgeous voice.
laura f
artist: natalie merchant
label: elektra
year: 1995
track list:
1. san andreas fault
2. wonder
3. beloved wife
4. river
5. carnival
6. i may know the word
7. the letter
8. cowboy romance
9. jealousy
10. where i go
11. seven years
this album sings like a short story collection set to music. storytelling at it's finest, natalie merchant enters into her solo career with an album that is both ethereal and catchy. melodic. dreamy.
it begins with a political-10,000 maniacs feel of a song, the only one that really calls to mind her previous band, with san andreas fault. for those who followed her career with the maniacs, a song full of social injustice and a plea to humans that they cannot beat mother nature, is par for the course. but, even though this song feels familiar, it still rings heartfelt and beautiful.
'wonder' has the feel of a single, as does 'jealousy'. both of them bop on out of the speakers, with this dance-feel to it. you can't help but picture natalie herself spinning about to it, hair flailing, smile on her face. and listening to this now, years later, i see her doing just that -- in my head.
'river' is a tribute to the late river phoenix. though it also touches on the press and society's need for blood and gossip and scandal. it is a plea to just let this soul go. and those who loved him grieve in piece. it has been years since his death, as well. but it still has the heartbreak of young loss wrapped up in the music and lyrics.
'beloved wife' is another of natalie's stories. stepping into the psyche of a grieving widow. this is a song of both devastating pain and unbelievable true love. definately the love song of the album.
my personal favourite cuts off this album are 'where i go' and 'i may know the word'. both have some of the most soul-stripping lyrics. and they just braid themselves into my heart. singing along feels personal, to me. relatable. i feel truth and tears at the surface of my skin.
'carnival' was the first single off the album, and still one of the strongest songs on this. full of mystery and magic. makes you want to close your eyes and see the world as it looks through your own carnival glasses.
'seven years', 'the letter' and 'cowboy romance' are all strong songs. melody and natalie's hypnotic lyrics painting more stories. tales. characters that you long to know more of.
all in all, this is an album that you can discover and re-discover again and again. open your ears, let yourself see the empty canvas fill with notes and words and see the paint spread. the stories come alive. and, above all, hear natalie's gorgeous voice.
laura f
posted by laura at
5:45 PM
lyrics for today: 'i may know the word' natalie merchant
i may know the word
but not say it
i may know the truth
but not face it
i may hear a sound
a whisper sacred and profound
but turn my head
indifferent
i may know the word
but not say it
i may love the fruit
but not taste it
i may know the way
to comfort and to soothe
a worried face
but fold my hands
indifferent
if i'm on my knees
i'm begging now
if i'm on my knees
groping in the dark
i'd be paying for deliverance
from the night into day
but it's all grey here
it's all grey to me
i may know the word
but not say it
this may be the time
but i might waste it
this may be the hour
something move me
someone prove me wrong
before the night comes
with indifference
if i'm on my knees
i'm begging now
if i'm on my knees
groping in the dark
i'd be praying for deliverance
from the night into the day
but it's all grey here
but it's all grey to me
i recognize the walls inside me
i recognize them all
i've paced between them
chasing demons down
until they fall
in fitful sleep
enough to keep their strength
enough to crawl
into my head
with tangled threads
they riddle me to solve
again and again and again
my walls went up again recently. they hadn't really been guarding my vulnerability much lately. i had let myself lie open. flying in the wind. i felt like i'd reached this point in my life where i was surrounded by people i could trust. that i could crack myself open to. let the good and the bad just be. and i let my heart lead me around, albeit blindly, into messes and disaster. loss.
now they are back. those old faithful walls. and i feel my trust lessen. diminish. i don't enjoy this. that feeling rushing in me of apprehension and doubt. i find myself stumbling for words more often, now. my feelings choked in the back of my throat. tickling me. making me cough and sputter. and retreat. deeper still. farther within the core of me.
and perhaps you think i blame you for construction of these grey walls to be built, again. but i blame myself. i slice open the vein and see the blood pour. realize that it is easier sometimes to deny. to go numb. to let people slip away.
guilty pleasure of the day: 'alias'
female spy who kicks major butt. gorgeous fashion. cheesy storylines. intrigue. romance. cliffhangers. suprises. good music. how can i resist?
website of the day: http://www.nataliemerchant.com/
goddess :)
laura f
i may know the word
but not say it
i may know the truth
but not face it
i may hear a sound
a whisper sacred and profound
but turn my head
indifferent
i may know the word
but not say it
i may love the fruit
but not taste it
i may know the way
to comfort and to soothe
a worried face
but fold my hands
indifferent
if i'm on my knees
i'm begging now
if i'm on my knees
groping in the dark
i'd be paying for deliverance
from the night into day
but it's all grey here
it's all grey to me
i may know the word
but not say it
this may be the time
but i might waste it
this may be the hour
something move me
someone prove me wrong
before the night comes
with indifference
if i'm on my knees
i'm begging now
if i'm on my knees
groping in the dark
i'd be praying for deliverance
from the night into the day
but it's all grey here
but it's all grey to me
i recognize the walls inside me
i recognize them all
i've paced between them
chasing demons down
until they fall
in fitful sleep
enough to keep their strength
enough to crawl
into my head
with tangled threads
they riddle me to solve
again and again and again
my walls went up again recently. they hadn't really been guarding my vulnerability much lately. i had let myself lie open. flying in the wind. i felt like i'd reached this point in my life where i was surrounded by people i could trust. that i could crack myself open to. let the good and the bad just be. and i let my heart lead me around, albeit blindly, into messes and disaster. loss.
now they are back. those old faithful walls. and i feel my trust lessen. diminish. i don't enjoy this. that feeling rushing in me of apprehension and doubt. i find myself stumbling for words more often, now. my feelings choked in the back of my throat. tickling me. making me cough and sputter. and retreat. deeper still. farther within the core of me.
and perhaps you think i blame you for construction of these grey walls to be built, again. but i blame myself. i slice open the vein and see the blood pour. realize that it is easier sometimes to deny. to go numb. to let people slip away.
guilty pleasure of the day: 'alias'
female spy who kicks major butt. gorgeous fashion. cheesy storylines. intrigue. romance. cliffhangers. suprises. good music. how can i resist?
website of the day: http://www.nataliemerchant.com/
goddess :)
laura f
posted by laura at
8:54 AM
Sunday, April 21, 2002
lyrics for today: 'mr. jones' counting crows
i was down at the new amsterdam staring at this yellow-haired girl
mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with this black-haired flamenco dancer
she dances while his father plays guitar
she's suddenly beautiful
we all want something beautiful
i wish i was beautiful
so come dance this silence down through the morning
come out Maria! show me some of them spanish dances
and pass me a bottle, mr. jones
believe in me
help me believe in anything
i want to be someone who believes
mr. jones and me tell each other fairy tales
stare at the beautiful women
"she's looking at you. ah, no, no, she's looking at me."
smiling in the bright lights
coming through the stereo
when everybody loves you, you can never be lonely
i will paint my picture
paint myself in blue and read and black and gray
all of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful
grey is my favorite color
i felt so symbolic yesterday
if i knew picasso
i would buy myself a grey guitar and play
mr. jones and me look into the future
stare at the beautiful women
"she's looking at you...
uh, i don't think so. she's looking at me."
standing in the spotlight
i bought myself a grey guitar
when everybody loves me, i will never be lonely
i want to be a lion
everybody wants to pass as cats
we all want to be big stars, but we got different reasons for that
believe in me
because i don't believe in anything
and i want to be someone to believe
mr. jones and me stumbling through the barrio
yeah we stare at the beautiful women
"she's perfect for you, man, there's got to be somebody for me."
i want to be bob dylan
mr. jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky
when everybody loves you, son, that's just about as funky as you can be
mr. jones and me staring at the video
when i look at the television, i want to see me staring right back at me
we all want to be big stars, but we don't know why and we don't know how
but when everybody loves me, i'm going to be just about as happy as can be
mr. jones and me, we're gonna be big stars...
i remember falling in love with acting. performing. with the sound of my own voice echoing from the walls of a stage. the sound of applause. and, most of all...most definately of all...being able to slip into the skin and words of someone else. to lose myself in that. to be disguised. to be seen as someone so far away from me. the freedom in that was like a drug. contagious. addictive. divine.
i sat around with the other "actors". i admired them more than i ever let on. sat on the edge of their looks and lashes. listened to everything they had to say. breathed it in. i loved the way i felt like i fit. and i wanted to fit, so badly.
part of me grew. blossomed. developed into someone who wasn't afraid of her own shadow, anymore. i spoke with brazen speed and sound. laughed. dove right into the pages and the open curtains. the applause. but there was a darker part of me. the side of me that was always so self-judgemental. the voice inside with the pen and paper. jotting down my mistakes. my flaws. my trap doors. and i let that voice take front row center. let it overtake the vision of who i was. she laughed at me in my mirror reflection. told me lies. said you want everyone to love you, but *look at you*.
and i fell.
i wanted the arms of those around me to swoop me up. save me. i wanted them to flood me with confidence. bring me up. i wanted to be a star. we all do, don't we? i wanted to not hear her voice anymore. i wanted to be able to see me, and not want to destroy what i saw.
but i couldn't find the solution, not without an exit. so i left it all behind.
i still miss it. deep within me. i miss it.
guilty pleasure of the day: kool-aid.
three packets mixed together...well, really a little of each. the silly colours. the way it dyes my lips red and blue. i like to freeze it. a kool-aid popsicle. sit on the back patio and lick. let myself fly back to childhood. kool-aid stained fingers and lips. cherry. blueberry. grape. and hearing her tell me: "let's use it to dye our hair." :)
website of the day: http://www.sigur-ros.com/
sigur ros. if you haven't hear them...you must!!!! now!!!! i'm not kidding!!!
laura f
i was down at the new amsterdam staring at this yellow-haired girl
mr. Jones strikes up a conversation with this black-haired flamenco dancer
she dances while his father plays guitar
she's suddenly beautiful
we all want something beautiful
i wish i was beautiful
so come dance this silence down through the morning
come out Maria! show me some of them spanish dances
and pass me a bottle, mr. jones
believe in me
help me believe in anything
i want to be someone who believes
mr. jones and me tell each other fairy tales
stare at the beautiful women
"she's looking at you. ah, no, no, she's looking at me."
smiling in the bright lights
coming through the stereo
when everybody loves you, you can never be lonely
i will paint my picture
paint myself in blue and read and black and gray
all of the beautiful colors are very very meaningful
grey is my favorite color
i felt so symbolic yesterday
if i knew picasso
i would buy myself a grey guitar and play
mr. jones and me look into the future
stare at the beautiful women
"she's looking at you...
uh, i don't think so. she's looking at me."
standing in the spotlight
i bought myself a grey guitar
when everybody loves me, i will never be lonely
i want to be a lion
everybody wants to pass as cats
we all want to be big stars, but we got different reasons for that
believe in me
because i don't believe in anything
and i want to be someone to believe
mr. jones and me stumbling through the barrio
yeah we stare at the beautiful women
"she's perfect for you, man, there's got to be somebody for me."
i want to be bob dylan
mr. jones wishes he was someone just a little more funky
when everybody loves you, son, that's just about as funky as you can be
mr. jones and me staring at the video
when i look at the television, i want to see me staring right back at me
we all want to be big stars, but we don't know why and we don't know how
but when everybody loves me, i'm going to be just about as happy as can be
mr. jones and me, we're gonna be big stars...
i remember falling in love with acting. performing. with the sound of my own voice echoing from the walls of a stage. the sound of applause. and, most of all...most definately of all...being able to slip into the skin and words of someone else. to lose myself in that. to be disguised. to be seen as someone so far away from me. the freedom in that was like a drug. contagious. addictive. divine.
i sat around with the other "actors". i admired them more than i ever let on. sat on the edge of their looks and lashes. listened to everything they had to say. breathed it in. i loved the way i felt like i fit. and i wanted to fit, so badly.
part of me grew. blossomed. developed into someone who wasn't afraid of her own shadow, anymore. i spoke with brazen speed and sound. laughed. dove right into the pages and the open curtains. the applause. but there was a darker part of me. the side of me that was always so self-judgemental. the voice inside with the pen and paper. jotting down my mistakes. my flaws. my trap doors. and i let that voice take front row center. let it overtake the vision of who i was. she laughed at me in my mirror reflection. told me lies. said you want everyone to love you, but *look at you*.
and i fell.
i wanted the arms of those around me to swoop me up. save me. i wanted them to flood me with confidence. bring me up. i wanted to be a star. we all do, don't we? i wanted to not hear her voice anymore. i wanted to be able to see me, and not want to destroy what i saw.
but i couldn't find the solution, not without an exit. so i left it all behind.
i still miss it. deep within me. i miss it.
guilty pleasure of the day: kool-aid.
three packets mixed together...well, really a little of each. the silly colours. the way it dyes my lips red and blue. i like to freeze it. a kool-aid popsicle. sit on the back patio and lick. let myself fly back to childhood. kool-aid stained fingers and lips. cherry. blueberry. grape. and hearing her tell me: "let's use it to dye our hair." :)
website of the day: http://www.sigur-ros.com/
sigur ros. if you haven't hear them...you must!!!! now!!!! i'm not kidding!!!
laura f
posted by laura at
1:32 PM
Friday, April 19, 2002
Thursday, April 18, 2002
lyrics of the day: 'make it home' juliana hatfield
hmm..mmm..mmm...
mmm..mmm...
mmm..mmm...
mmm.....
deepening night, think on a time
all was bright
here in this dark place, i see in your face
all is not right
make it, make your way home
better than the last
break it, break the alone
take a second chance
open a window, let in the snow
cold is all i know
go to the fire, stir it around
there's a warmer place for you to go
so, make it, make your way home
better than you have
break it, break the alone
leave it in the past
oh, look and you'll find it
someone wants to love you
look and you'll find it
someone wants to love you
wake it, wake your dream
one forgotten me
sleepin' deep inside o' you
heavenly peace
i want to find my way back to me. trouble is, i'm not really sure what that is. me. and i'm so damn tired of saying i've lost myself. lost the notion of who i am. i'm even more sick of feeling like this. i look around me. i'm lucky. i have people who love me. amazing friends. and i know they all see me as something. why can't i?
i sit and i ponder my thoughts. my life. i just can't seem to find my way through the maze of existing. of being. i keep losing myself to unrequited dreams. places i'd "rather be". lives i wish to be living. but, my life is okay. isn't it? i mean, when i step outside of my mind and look...it really is quite okay. but i feel trapped somewhere above it. constantly watching it happen. i want to find my way back home.
and, the truth is, i'm happy. and the truth is, as well, i don't know how to be happy.
guilty pleasure of the day: dove promises.
these little delicious squares of chocolates wrapped in keen blue foil with little sayings in them. tonight's saying: "every cloud doesn't mean a storm." yes. cheesy. and yes. i'm sitting her pondering it. i am forever and ever a geek!
website of the day: www.mscl.com
yes. i'm in *that* mood.
laura f
hmm..mmm..mmm...
mmm..mmm...
mmm..mmm...
mmm.....
deepening night, think on a time
all was bright
here in this dark place, i see in your face
all is not right
make it, make your way home
better than the last
break it, break the alone
take a second chance
open a window, let in the snow
cold is all i know
go to the fire, stir it around
there's a warmer place for you to go
so, make it, make your way home
better than you have
break it, break the alone
leave it in the past
oh, look and you'll find it
someone wants to love you
look and you'll find it
someone wants to love you
wake it, wake your dream
one forgotten me
sleepin' deep inside o' you
heavenly peace
i want to find my way back to me. trouble is, i'm not really sure what that is. me. and i'm so damn tired of saying i've lost myself. lost the notion of who i am. i'm even more sick of feeling like this. i look around me. i'm lucky. i have people who love me. amazing friends. and i know they all see me as something. why can't i?
i sit and i ponder my thoughts. my life. i just can't seem to find my way through the maze of existing. of being. i keep losing myself to unrequited dreams. places i'd "rather be". lives i wish to be living. but, my life is okay. isn't it? i mean, when i step outside of my mind and look...it really is quite okay. but i feel trapped somewhere above it. constantly watching it happen. i want to find my way back home.
and, the truth is, i'm happy. and the truth is, as well, i don't know how to be happy.
guilty pleasure of the day: dove promises.
these little delicious squares of chocolates wrapped in keen blue foil with little sayings in them. tonight's saying: "every cloud doesn't mean a storm." yes. cheesy. and yes. i'm sitting her pondering it. i am forever and ever a geek!
website of the day: www.mscl.com
yes. i'm in *that* mood.
laura f
posted by laura at
11:55 PM
Wednesday, April 17, 2002
lyrics for today: 'you could make a killing' aimee mann
(one two three once again go)
there is nothing that competes with habit
and i know it's neither deep nor tragic
it's simply that you have to have it
so you can make a killing
oh you can make a killing
oh you can make a killing
i wish i was both young and stupid
then i too could have the fun that you did
till it was time to pony up what you bid
so you could make a killing
oh you could make a killing
oh you could make a killing
i could follow you and search the rubble
or stay right here and save myself some trouble
or try to keep myself from seeing double
or i could make a killing
or i could make a killing
oh i could make a killing
yeah i could make a killing
i could make a killing
being alive is such a jangly reality. all of us, each of us, we are so full of addictions and habits. even when we don't acknowledge them, even when our habits are socially acceptable, even if they are what we call personality flaws, we are full of them. and here we are. each of us full of these holes, coming together, leaking out the edges.
i'm beginning to see the big bright light in my tunnel of existance. i see the street signs, the markings. and i crawl on my hands and knees, searching. peeling back the layers. sifting through the dirt and decay. and still i just stand here more confused. i really don't have a clue as to who i am. what i want. where i need to go.
i just wake up every morning, follow these set rituals that i put in place for who knows why. indulge in my own force of habit(s). smile. laugh. go through so many of the obligatory motions. travel through the day and the time. blindly just moving forward. or is it backward, or am i even moving at all?
i have all this desire in me. all this passion that seems to flood my mind, my thoughts, who i am. and i'm at a loss. where did this all come from, and what on earth do i do with all of this? do i just keep going blindly? lifting the patches off my eyes on occasion, trying to spill all the words and thoughts onto a page? a computer screen? to you? or you? or who?
guilty pleasure of the day: 'cruel intentions'
this movie will have me there, watching, still drawn, anytime it is on. i've always had a love of the story itself, in all it's many incarnations...but this one brings both of my little attractions into one forum. teen angst and the 'les liasons dangerous' story. plus, ryan phillipe and reese witherspoon. oh *swoon*. and, on top of all that, as if that wasn't enough...the soundtrack is gorgeous. delicious. rich.
webpage of the day: http://www.temple.edu/photo/photographers/arbus/arbus.htm
the magical world, through the lens, of diane arbus. hurrah!
laura f
(one two three once again go)
there is nothing that competes with habit
and i know it's neither deep nor tragic
it's simply that you have to have it
so you can make a killing
oh you can make a killing
oh you can make a killing
i wish i was both young and stupid
then i too could have the fun that you did
till it was time to pony up what you bid
so you could make a killing
oh you could make a killing
oh you could make a killing
i could follow you and search the rubble
or stay right here and save myself some trouble
or try to keep myself from seeing double
or i could make a killing
or i could make a killing
oh i could make a killing
yeah i could make a killing
i could make a killing
being alive is such a jangly reality. all of us, each of us, we are so full of addictions and habits. even when we don't acknowledge them, even when our habits are socially acceptable, even if they are what we call personality flaws, we are full of them. and here we are. each of us full of these holes, coming together, leaking out the edges.
i'm beginning to see the big bright light in my tunnel of existance. i see the street signs, the markings. and i crawl on my hands and knees, searching. peeling back the layers. sifting through the dirt and decay. and still i just stand here more confused. i really don't have a clue as to who i am. what i want. where i need to go.
i just wake up every morning, follow these set rituals that i put in place for who knows why. indulge in my own force of habit(s). smile. laugh. go through so many of the obligatory motions. travel through the day and the time. blindly just moving forward. or is it backward, or am i even moving at all?
i have all this desire in me. all this passion that seems to flood my mind, my thoughts, who i am. and i'm at a loss. where did this all come from, and what on earth do i do with all of this? do i just keep going blindly? lifting the patches off my eyes on occasion, trying to spill all the words and thoughts onto a page? a computer screen? to you? or you? or who?
guilty pleasure of the day: 'cruel intentions'
this movie will have me there, watching, still drawn, anytime it is on. i've always had a love of the story itself, in all it's many incarnations...but this one brings both of my little attractions into one forum. teen angst and the 'les liasons dangerous' story. plus, ryan phillipe and reese witherspoon. oh *swoon*. and, on top of all that, as if that wasn't enough...the soundtrack is gorgeous. delicious. rich.
webpage of the day: http://www.temple.edu/photo/photographers/arbus/arbus.htm
the magical world, through the lens, of diane arbus. hurrah!
laura f
posted by laura at
12:24 PM
Sunday, April 14, 2002
lyrics for today: 'mad world' gary jules
all around me are familiar faces
worn out places
worn out faces
bright and early for their daily races
going nowhere
going nowhere
their tears are filling up their glasses
no expression
no expression
hide my head
i want to drown my sorrow
no tomorrow
no tomorrow
and i find it kind of funny
i find it kind of sad
the dreams in which i'm dying
are the best i've ever had
i find it hard to tell you
'cause i find it hard to take
when people run in circles
it's a very very
mad world
mad world
mad world
mad world
children waiting for the day they feel good
happy birthday
happy birthday
made to feel the way that every child should
sit and listen
sit and listen
went to school and i was very nervous
no one knew me
no one knew me
now the teacher tells me
what's my lesson
look right through me
look right through me
and i find it kind of funny
i find it kind of sad
the dreams in which i'm dying
are the best i've ever had
i find it hard to tell you
'cause i find it hard to take
when people run in circles
it's a very very
mad world
mad world
mad world
enlargen your world
mad world
i watched 'donnie darko' this weekend. this song got to me. as the movie did. which to write about first. i guess both. in my regular old jangly too much thoughts and words way. i always loved the tears for fears album 'fear', including this song. knew the whole theme of the album was heartbreaking. but the song, 'mad world', never stuck into me until i heard this version. something about the tone of it. the mood of the song. the way the vocals work their way through the meanings of the words. the best way i can describe it, the way it makes me feel, is like this: like someone ripped me out of my "now" and threw me back to adolescence. and all that doubt and invisibility. all that awkward thought and mind. all that pain and crushes and gigantic pulses of emotion. it is all lying at my feet. and inside me. spinning around. bringing me back to then. over-dramatic? perhaps. but it is how it makes me feel.
now, the movie. i will say first, if i had my way i would re-write the ending. but, that's just me. i wanted frank to be real. i wanted donnie's visions to be real. yet i wanted the madness of it to have a solution, but not a cure. if that makes sense. i loved the character of donnie, just the way he was. and i wanted him to find his answers. i didn't want him to go back in time and be hit by that jet engine. beyond that, though, i loved the film. it was gorgeous to watch. beautifully filmed. and the music used, especially in the scenes where the music took over the vocals. told the story through song. so effective. and, of course, the time period was moving to me. relatable. so many little details. like a shirt i had. sayings like "going together". and, again, the music.
i liked the beauty and ugly of all the characters. their weaknesses and strengths. the flaws. i always love flaws in life and people. the parts that make someone "real", to me. and in films it is so rarely shown, without it being some kind of showcase of utter dysfuncion and villianous/violence. i love the little off, a bit left of center, in characters -- real and fictional.
so there is my reaction(s), to the song and the film. i still fill full of it. the mood. the memories. and my own story that i would have wanted it to end up as.
guilty pleasure of the day: dairy queen
there is something so pleasing and a tad bit sinful in sneaking off with in the middle of the day for a shake at dairy queen. blueberry for me, strawberry for him. we drank them in the car, getting brain freeze and giggling like children. tasting each others and giving our fantastical and intelligent "review of the shake". driving back full of sugar and smiles. listening to late 80s music on the radio. 'let's dance' (david bowie), 'love is the drug' (roxy music) and 'in a big country' (big country). and still sipping on tasty mixed up ice cream and fruit. delicious.
website of the day: http://www.salon.com/
great source for intelligent news. always...always...*always* something interesting to read.
laura f
all around me are familiar faces
worn out places
worn out faces
bright and early for their daily races
going nowhere
going nowhere
their tears are filling up their glasses
no expression
no expression
hide my head
i want to drown my sorrow
no tomorrow
no tomorrow
and i find it kind of funny
i find it kind of sad
the dreams in which i'm dying
are the best i've ever had
i find it hard to tell you
'cause i find it hard to take
when people run in circles
it's a very very
mad world
mad world
mad world
mad world
children waiting for the day they feel good
happy birthday
happy birthday
made to feel the way that every child should
sit and listen
sit and listen
went to school and i was very nervous
no one knew me
no one knew me
now the teacher tells me
what's my lesson
look right through me
look right through me
and i find it kind of funny
i find it kind of sad
the dreams in which i'm dying
are the best i've ever had
i find it hard to tell you
'cause i find it hard to take
when people run in circles
it's a very very
mad world
mad world
mad world
enlargen your world
mad world
i watched 'donnie darko' this weekend. this song got to me. as the movie did. which to write about first. i guess both. in my regular old jangly too much thoughts and words way. i always loved the tears for fears album 'fear', including this song. knew the whole theme of the album was heartbreaking. but the song, 'mad world', never stuck into me until i heard this version. something about the tone of it. the mood of the song. the way the vocals work their way through the meanings of the words. the best way i can describe it, the way it makes me feel, is like this: like someone ripped me out of my "now" and threw me back to adolescence. and all that doubt and invisibility. all that awkward thought and mind. all that pain and crushes and gigantic pulses of emotion. it is all lying at my feet. and inside me. spinning around. bringing me back to then. over-dramatic? perhaps. but it is how it makes me feel.
now, the movie. i will say first, if i had my way i would re-write the ending. but, that's just me. i wanted frank to be real. i wanted donnie's visions to be real. yet i wanted the madness of it to have a solution, but not a cure. if that makes sense. i loved the character of donnie, just the way he was. and i wanted him to find his answers. i didn't want him to go back in time and be hit by that jet engine. beyond that, though, i loved the film. it was gorgeous to watch. beautifully filmed. and the music used, especially in the scenes where the music took over the vocals. told the story through song. so effective. and, of course, the time period was moving to me. relatable. so many little details. like a shirt i had. sayings like "going together". and, again, the music.
i liked the beauty and ugly of all the characters. their weaknesses and strengths. the flaws. i always love flaws in life and people. the parts that make someone "real", to me. and in films it is so rarely shown, without it being some kind of showcase of utter dysfuncion and villianous/violence. i love the little off, a bit left of center, in characters -- real and fictional.
so there is my reaction(s), to the song and the film. i still fill full of it. the mood. the memories. and my own story that i would have wanted it to end up as.
guilty pleasure of the day: dairy queen
there is something so pleasing and a tad bit sinful in sneaking off with in the middle of the day for a shake at dairy queen. blueberry for me, strawberry for him. we drank them in the car, getting brain freeze and giggling like children. tasting each others and giving our fantastical and intelligent "review of the shake". driving back full of sugar and smiles. listening to late 80s music on the radio. 'let's dance' (david bowie), 'love is the drug' (roxy music) and 'in a big country' (big country). and still sipping on tasty mixed up ice cream and fruit. delicious.
website of the day: http://www.salon.com/
great source for intelligent news. always...always...*always* something interesting to read.
laura f
posted by laura at
5:20 PM
Saturday, April 13, 2002
lyrics for today: 'frequent flyer' a camp
would you help me pack my bags?
i might be leaving
i need some sweet assistance while i'm stealing
some of your time
i hope that's fine
and i've got photographs of all,
you're all i'm needing
forgiveness if i left you all believing
that i'm the one 'cause i feel like none
and i need something to direct me to it
'cause i'm a frequent flyer,
a notorious liar
but i can't get close enough
i never get close
i can't get close enough
i would love to tell my story from the ending
but the story's getting thin from heavy spending
and i need my man,
and i need a fence
and i need someone to protect me from the wench
i'm a frequent flyer,
a notorious liar
but i can't get close enough
i never get close
i can't get close enough to the ending
i can't get close enough
i can't get close enough
to the sun
i can't get close enough
i'm a frequent flyer,
a notorious liar
but i can't get close enough
i never get close
i can't get close enough...
it seems
a wayward heart. a frequent flyer. i used to just think it was because of everyone else's changing, my changing -- and interchanging. i was always one to fall easily, and hard. the smash and crash of love, or some facimile. and i could never contain it. well, not forever, at least. i had to take the risks, sometimes the most careless of risks, to reach love. everytime it felt so real. so valid. so much like the end of the story. like this was the pages i needed to fill me in. this love. so different from the rest.
and i'd stake everything on it. on of my fatal flaws. bet my life. my soul. my heart. every breath and idea and personality trait. i traded it all in to fit into the corners of someone else's life. and then i'd choke. the constriction of not being yourself, of surrendering everything for someone else, it slowly turned to an ugly creature. disappointment turned to bitterness turned to the cold, numb, sharp realization of "this is over". and then my heart would fly to the surface. go on a seeking mission. and crash into someone else, again.
so, how do you get over that? how do you anchor your heart to someplace you feel it should stay? how do you regain your ownself? reel back in all that you gave, give yourself back enough 'you' to breathe?
i'm at a place in my life where i want the story to stay. to grow. to go from here -- but with this reality. i don't want to buy another ticket to the alluring sky of new love, just to go through all this again. i want to stay in this. but my heart is fluttery, flighty, hungry for adventure and travel. how do i satisfy it without having to say goodbye?
i really don't know. simple and clear. yet so complicated. conflicting.
but, i'm trying to learn. trying to let myself breathe. feel happy. find a way to make this story me.
guilty pleasure of the day: songs from the movie/musical 'annie'
i can hear it from the next room. she's watching it and singing along. and i am, too. i can't help it. there is something so addicting and irresistable about those songs. "i love you tomorrow, your only a day away." "until the prohibition of...little girls." "i think i'm going to like it here." silly. cheesy. but, can you hear any of those songs and not want to sing along? i can't!
website of the day: http://jeopardy.station.sony.com/
hurrah for 'jeopardy'!!!
laura f
would you help me pack my bags?
i might be leaving
i need some sweet assistance while i'm stealing
some of your time
i hope that's fine
and i've got photographs of all,
you're all i'm needing
forgiveness if i left you all believing
that i'm the one 'cause i feel like none
and i need something to direct me to it
'cause i'm a frequent flyer,
a notorious liar
but i can't get close enough
i never get close
i can't get close enough
i would love to tell my story from the ending
but the story's getting thin from heavy spending
and i need my man,
and i need a fence
and i need someone to protect me from the wench
i'm a frequent flyer,
a notorious liar
but i can't get close enough
i never get close
i can't get close enough to the ending
i can't get close enough
i can't get close enough
to the sun
i can't get close enough
i'm a frequent flyer,
a notorious liar
but i can't get close enough
i never get close
i can't get close enough...
it seems
a wayward heart. a frequent flyer. i used to just think it was because of everyone else's changing, my changing -- and interchanging. i was always one to fall easily, and hard. the smash and crash of love, or some facimile. and i could never contain it. well, not forever, at least. i had to take the risks, sometimes the most careless of risks, to reach love. everytime it felt so real. so valid. so much like the end of the story. like this was the pages i needed to fill me in. this love. so different from the rest.
and i'd stake everything on it. on of my fatal flaws. bet my life. my soul. my heart. every breath and idea and personality trait. i traded it all in to fit into the corners of someone else's life. and then i'd choke. the constriction of not being yourself, of surrendering everything for someone else, it slowly turned to an ugly creature. disappointment turned to bitterness turned to the cold, numb, sharp realization of "this is over". and then my heart would fly to the surface. go on a seeking mission. and crash into someone else, again.
so, how do you get over that? how do you anchor your heart to someplace you feel it should stay? how do you regain your ownself? reel back in all that you gave, give yourself back enough 'you' to breathe?
i'm at a place in my life where i want the story to stay. to grow. to go from here -- but with this reality. i don't want to buy another ticket to the alluring sky of new love, just to go through all this again. i want to stay in this. but my heart is fluttery, flighty, hungry for adventure and travel. how do i satisfy it without having to say goodbye?
i really don't know. simple and clear. yet so complicated. conflicting.
but, i'm trying to learn. trying to let myself breathe. feel happy. find a way to make this story me.
guilty pleasure of the day: songs from the movie/musical 'annie'
i can hear it from the next room. she's watching it and singing along. and i am, too. i can't help it. there is something so addicting and irresistable about those songs. "i love you tomorrow, your only a day away." "until the prohibition of...little girls." "i think i'm going to like it here." silly. cheesy. but, can you hear any of those songs and not want to sing along? i can't!
website of the day: http://jeopardy.station.sony.com/
hurrah for 'jeopardy'!!!
laura f
posted by laura at
11:07 AM
Friday, April 12, 2002
lyrics for today: 'the sharp hint of new tears' dashboard confessional
on the way home,
this car hears my confessions.
i think tonight I'll take the long way.
in this weather.
the wind outside is biting.
its left me feeling tired and exposed.
you've been asking me to bleed.
it seems these kinds of questions
they come too easy to you now.
and your lack of shame comes naturally.
i should not be suprised.
i should have seen it sooner.
expect me to apologize
for things that you've done wrong.
while you're inciting others.
you're owning up to nothing
and i wish that i was gone,
because you're not going anywhere.
and this damp air
is fighting my defroster.
my sighs they ring victorious
and fog this tinted glass.
and it's clouded
and so is my head.
the hint of these new tears are sharp.
i try to choke them back.
but it's useless.
i'm useless against them.
they are beating me with ease.
on the way home
this car hears my confessions.
i think tonight I'll take the long way.
my first car was my solace. my confessional. my escape. it was always full of music. clothing. bags of things. stickers on the outside and inside. sometimes an ice chest. most often my best friend in the passenger seat. the navigator. she always -- *always* -- knew how to get everywhere. often, too, there were various people cluttering the back seat. voices chiming back and forth. laughter. singing. arguing. and those deep conversations that sometimes the open road invokes in you.
truth be known i hated going home. if i could have lived in my car then, i would have. in some ways, i did. days when i would wake up at dawn and pack the car. drive anywhere. nowhere in particular. everywhere. one of my favourite "drives" was up and down pch. up and down the coast. being near the water was incredible. rolling down the window. smelling the salty air. the beach breeze. letting go of everything pent up inside of me. music blaring as high as it could go.
some days i drove alone. sat in the parking lot of newport beach. rolled the windows down. reclined the seat. slept. dreamed. got out and sat on the hood. wrote in my journal. cried. screamed. laughed. then got back in. drove through laguna canyon. or hopped the freeway to l.a. sometimes screaming the words to songs. sometimes whispering. writing poetry on napkins at stoplights. filling my ashtray with clove cigarettes, and marlboro lights. snapping photographs of random sights. people. places. signs. not going back until the latest possible moment. then still lingering in the driveway. one last song.
sometimes i truly miss the car escapes. the car i have now doesn't feel like mine. it is more ours. more of a vehicle to get to and back from places. necessity. i miss the allure of my old honda civic. the personality it had. the way it was touched by everyone who rode in it. how it was touched by me.
i think i need a road trip. anyone want to join me?
guilty pleasure of the day: 'trading spaces'
okay. back to another t.v. show. i know. but this is a new guilty pleasure discovery. i'm not sure exactly what has hooked me. maybe the desire i have to re-do my own living spaces. maybe it is the element of surprise, and possible disaster, that the show envelops. possibly the reality of it. and the anything but reality of the over-the-top, often obnoxious designers. and i can't help it. those final moments of unveiling. waiting for that expression. that reaction. when they see their new "room" for the first time. it's delicious. it really is.
website of the day: http://www.live365.com/home/index.live
the best streaming radio site i've found, so far. with a gazillion different stations to choose from! now i only wish i could find another site that let you design your own station. i miss that.
note for today: a big huge enormous thank you to andrea for helping me with my blog! you rock!
laura f
on the way home,
this car hears my confessions.
i think tonight I'll take the long way.
in this weather.
the wind outside is biting.
its left me feeling tired and exposed.
you've been asking me to bleed.
it seems these kinds of questions
they come too easy to you now.
and your lack of shame comes naturally.
i should not be suprised.
i should have seen it sooner.
expect me to apologize
for things that you've done wrong.
while you're inciting others.
you're owning up to nothing
and i wish that i was gone,
because you're not going anywhere.
and this damp air
is fighting my defroster.
my sighs they ring victorious
and fog this tinted glass.
and it's clouded
and so is my head.
the hint of these new tears are sharp.
i try to choke them back.
but it's useless.
i'm useless against them.
they are beating me with ease.
on the way home
this car hears my confessions.
i think tonight I'll take the long way.
my first car was my solace. my confessional. my escape. it was always full of music. clothing. bags of things. stickers on the outside and inside. sometimes an ice chest. most often my best friend in the passenger seat. the navigator. she always -- *always* -- knew how to get everywhere. often, too, there were various people cluttering the back seat. voices chiming back and forth. laughter. singing. arguing. and those deep conversations that sometimes the open road invokes in you.
truth be known i hated going home. if i could have lived in my car then, i would have. in some ways, i did. days when i would wake up at dawn and pack the car. drive anywhere. nowhere in particular. everywhere. one of my favourite "drives" was up and down pch. up and down the coast. being near the water was incredible. rolling down the window. smelling the salty air. the beach breeze. letting go of everything pent up inside of me. music blaring as high as it could go.
some days i drove alone. sat in the parking lot of newport beach. rolled the windows down. reclined the seat. slept. dreamed. got out and sat on the hood. wrote in my journal. cried. screamed. laughed. then got back in. drove through laguna canyon. or hopped the freeway to l.a. sometimes screaming the words to songs. sometimes whispering. writing poetry on napkins at stoplights. filling my ashtray with clove cigarettes, and marlboro lights. snapping photographs of random sights. people. places. signs. not going back until the latest possible moment. then still lingering in the driveway. one last song.
sometimes i truly miss the car escapes. the car i have now doesn't feel like mine. it is more ours. more of a vehicle to get to and back from places. necessity. i miss the allure of my old honda civic. the personality it had. the way it was touched by everyone who rode in it. how it was touched by me.
i think i need a road trip. anyone want to join me?
guilty pleasure of the day: 'trading spaces'
okay. back to another t.v. show. i know. but this is a new guilty pleasure discovery. i'm not sure exactly what has hooked me. maybe the desire i have to re-do my own living spaces. maybe it is the element of surprise, and possible disaster, that the show envelops. possibly the reality of it. and the anything but reality of the over-the-top, often obnoxious designers. and i can't help it. those final moments of unveiling. waiting for that expression. that reaction. when they see their new "room" for the first time. it's delicious. it really is.
website of the day: http://www.live365.com/home/index.live
the best streaming radio site i've found, so far. with a gazillion different stations to choose from! now i only wish i could find another site that let you design your own station. i miss that.
note for today: a big huge enormous thank you to andrea for helping me with my blog! you rock!
laura f
posted by laura at
12:47 PM
Thursday, April 11, 2002
lyrics for today: 'numb' portishead
unable so lost,
i can't find my way,
been searching, but i have never seen,
a turning, a turning from deceit.
'cause the child roses like,
try to reveal what i could feel,
i can't understand myself anymore,
‘cause i'm still feeling lonely,
feeling so unholy.
'cause the child roses like,
try to reveal what i could feel,
and this loneliness,
it just won't leave me alone, oh no.
i'm fooling somebody,
a faithless path to roam,
deceiving to breath this secretly,
a silence, this silence i can't bear.
'cause a child roses light,
try to reveal what i could feel,
and this loneliness,
it just won't leave me alone, oh no,
and this loneliness,
it just won't leave me alone.
a lady of war,
a lady of war.
i wonder, at times, if i have somehow transcended my loneliness. or, if i have just pushed it so far in that pit of inner denial, that it seems as if it ceases to exist. since leaving california i have yet to really make any true friends. sure, there are people i talk to at work. and i enjoy their company. but it is so limited. i haven't made that real connection of *friend*, in so long. makes me begin to wonder if it is me. if i have begun to hold too deep within me, my personality. if i am holding back too much. if my walls have been built so solidly, that they cannot be overcome. or even if they could, am i exuding a "stay away" vibe that does just that -- cause people to stay away?
i don't know.
what i do know is that never, even in my most shy times of childhood and pre-adolescence, have i ever not made friends. i have always moved around, within my home state and county, changing schools. moving. changing jobs. change. change. change. and i always got lucky. met amazing people. connected. felt apart of my surroundings. and then i left california. and that all seemed to change.
and i wonder. why don't i feel more lonely? or do i. do i feel lonely. felt lonely for so long that now it feels normal. to me.
and, i know i rely heavily on the internet. too heavily, most likely. i have such amazing friends via this outlet. friends that i can connect with, daily -- at times. that i feel i can share my life with. that i really believe know me. and maybe that is enough. those connections. those ties.
but, i can't help admit that i miss the personal, one-on-one. the in each other's faces. friends who are a phonecall away. who you can escape to a movie with. take a walk with. cook a meal with. watch silly t.v. with. invite over for dinner. i miss it. damn. yes. i miss it, a lot.
guilty pleasure of the day: madonna.
so, maybe she has gone beyond being a guilty pleasure. doesn't just about everyone like madonna, at least to a certain degree? i know that i went through my own times of madonna-denial. where i claimed to not like her, and then secretly posessed her albums. knowing all her songs by heart. there is just something about her. that ever-changing style. the diva-ness. the humor. the pure pop cheesy delicious songs. and the shows she puts on. i can't help it. on days where i need a good musical cheering up, i can't help turning to songs like 'burning up', 'justify my love', 'dear jessie', 'vogue', 'don't tell me'. how can i resist?
website of the day: http://www.madonna.com/
in the spirit of my guilty pleasure ;)
laura f
unable so lost,
i can't find my way,
been searching, but i have never seen,
a turning, a turning from deceit.
'cause the child roses like,
try to reveal what i could feel,
i can't understand myself anymore,
‘cause i'm still feeling lonely,
feeling so unholy.
'cause the child roses like,
try to reveal what i could feel,
and this loneliness,
it just won't leave me alone, oh no.
i'm fooling somebody,
a faithless path to roam,
deceiving to breath this secretly,
a silence, this silence i can't bear.
'cause a child roses light,
try to reveal what i could feel,
and this loneliness,
it just won't leave me alone, oh no,
and this loneliness,
it just won't leave me alone.
a lady of war,
a lady of war.
i wonder, at times, if i have somehow transcended my loneliness. or, if i have just pushed it so far in that pit of inner denial, that it seems as if it ceases to exist. since leaving california i have yet to really make any true friends. sure, there are people i talk to at work. and i enjoy their company. but it is so limited. i haven't made that real connection of *friend*, in so long. makes me begin to wonder if it is me. if i have begun to hold too deep within me, my personality. if i am holding back too much. if my walls have been built so solidly, that they cannot be overcome. or even if they could, am i exuding a "stay away" vibe that does just that -- cause people to stay away?
i don't know.
what i do know is that never, even in my most shy times of childhood and pre-adolescence, have i ever not made friends. i have always moved around, within my home state and county, changing schools. moving. changing jobs. change. change. change. and i always got lucky. met amazing people. connected. felt apart of my surroundings. and then i left california. and that all seemed to change.
and i wonder. why don't i feel more lonely? or do i. do i feel lonely. felt lonely for so long that now it feels normal. to me.
and, i know i rely heavily on the internet. too heavily, most likely. i have such amazing friends via this outlet. friends that i can connect with, daily -- at times. that i feel i can share my life with. that i really believe know me. and maybe that is enough. those connections. those ties.
but, i can't help admit that i miss the personal, one-on-one. the in each other's faces. friends who are a phonecall away. who you can escape to a movie with. take a walk with. cook a meal with. watch silly t.v. with. invite over for dinner. i miss it. damn. yes. i miss it, a lot.
guilty pleasure of the day: madonna.
so, maybe she has gone beyond being a guilty pleasure. doesn't just about everyone like madonna, at least to a certain degree? i know that i went through my own times of madonna-denial. where i claimed to not like her, and then secretly posessed her albums. knowing all her songs by heart. there is just something about her. that ever-changing style. the diva-ness. the humor. the pure pop cheesy delicious songs. and the shows she puts on. i can't help it. on days where i need a good musical cheering up, i can't help turning to songs like 'burning up', 'justify my love', 'dear jessie', 'vogue', 'don't tell me'. how can i resist?
website of the day: http://www.madonna.com/
in the spirit of my guilty pleasure ;)
laura f
posted by laura at
1:12 PM
Wednesday, April 10, 2002
lyrics for today: 'garlands' cocteau twins
garlands evergreen
forget-me-not wreaths
chaplets see me drugged
i could die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
well, with these brave garlands
they never find out for her
they never find I'm lying
well, with these etchings
cravings convince
my cravings commence
garlands evergreen
forget-me-not wreaths
chaplets see me drugged
i could die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
well, with these scarve's scars
cravings convince
my cravings commence
well, with these splint's scars
i'm all that to you
i'm all
that's who
garlands evergreen
forget-me-not wreaths
chaplets see me drugged
i could die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
well, with these scarve's scars
cravings convince
my cravings commence
well, with these splint's scars
i'm all that to you
i'm all
that's who
'garlands'. the song rushes through me. sends the waves of memory through the pores of my skin. into the deeper parts of me. and i sit back and my eyes close. i let the music flood me with images. sights. smell. tastes. the overwhelming collision of what this song brings back. to me.
we are driving over the bridge from san francisco to oakland. the sun is going down. i am carrying a child inside of me that i have yet to know about. i want to say so many things to him. i want so badly to let out who i really am. but i feel trapped. silent. i just sit and watch the water go by below. i let you drive. my car. i let you lead the way. and i look at the bridge railing and wonder what it must be like to jump off. to fly, for a moment. and then end.
and then there was that place. that night. we had been there before. different locations. the name was always the same, but the places changed. that night it was in little tokyo. i remember going up the steep red staircases with her. i felt drunk, already, even though i hadn't even had a sip of anything. she smelled like sandalwood and studio one hairspray. and she sat so close to me, i could feel the tremor of breath fill her body. in and out. i could feel the prickles upon her skin as the cool air whooshed over us. we were sitting so close to a high above vent. she looked up at me with half-closed lids. whispered. slurring her words slightly. she was trying to act drunk, but i knew the truth. "josh thinks you should kiss me." like josh had anything to do with it. with us. but neither of us could deal with the confrontation. of this. of us. and i let her get away with avoidance. and i kissed her. right as 'garlands' began to play. the pulse of the song flooding us. the electricity between our lips sparking. flying. and i trembled. i tremble now. in memory.
music is like that, to me. more powerful than words. smells. pictures or postcards found. it is the music that snaps me back. brings that slideshow into the back of my eyes. beyond my vision. the faces go by. but it is more than just the mere image. more than just a photograph. it is this plunge into those days. splash. drop. i feel like i'm there. and i see the faces again. in different ways. memory is like that. it changes. evolves. deflates. edits. and i see me. the me i was then. in front of me. yet not a reflection of who i am now. but it is still me, it is. i see the similarities. the nuances of my voice. but i see the growth. the way i have left some things of me behind. dropped them off of a tower, into the ocean depths, left on the side of the road, in a goodbye, in an old room. it is like staring at oneself in a carnival mirror. distorted. but it is still you. it is still me, it is.
guilty pleasure of the day: 'felicity'
yes. this week seems to be guilty pleasure tv. doesn't it? okay. so they say this is the "countdown to goodbye". and even though the show is also cliched and runs the gamut of unrealism. it has me. i watch and i'm drawn back. i still care. javier still makes me laugh, warmly. i still feel for felicity, even if sometimes that feeling is of annoyance. i still like to see sean, still see him as the sweetest of the bunch. underrated. and i'm glad his character grew into more than that geeky guy who invents things. and ben. and noel. yes. i grow weary and groan over the "which one do i love? which one do i choose?" and i wonder where this "goodbye" will end. will felicity choose? will she have a ben-noel-felicity menage de trois? will she decide that she really loves megan, steal her from sean, and run off to paris, or rome, or nashville? or will she pack up her bag and leave. alone. realizing she has finally found herself. is okay with herself. that really would be refreshing, but probably not what will happen.
website of the day: www.strangersinparadise.com
a great site, an even better comic. the story will take you. keep you. not let you go. check it out and yes, read it!
laura f
garlands evergreen
forget-me-not wreaths
chaplets see me drugged
i could die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
well, with these brave garlands
they never find out for her
they never find I'm lying
well, with these etchings
cravings convince
my cravings commence
garlands evergreen
forget-me-not wreaths
chaplets see me drugged
i could die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
well, with these scarve's scars
cravings convince
my cravings commence
well, with these splint's scars
i'm all that to you
i'm all
that's who
garlands evergreen
forget-me-not wreaths
chaplets see me drugged
i could die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
die in a rosary
well, with these scarve's scars
cravings convince
my cravings commence
well, with these splint's scars
i'm all that to you
i'm all
that's who
'garlands'. the song rushes through me. sends the waves of memory through the pores of my skin. into the deeper parts of me. and i sit back and my eyes close. i let the music flood me with images. sights. smell. tastes. the overwhelming collision of what this song brings back. to me.
we are driving over the bridge from san francisco to oakland. the sun is going down. i am carrying a child inside of me that i have yet to know about. i want to say so many things to him. i want so badly to let out who i really am. but i feel trapped. silent. i just sit and watch the water go by below. i let you drive. my car. i let you lead the way. and i look at the bridge railing and wonder what it must be like to jump off. to fly, for a moment. and then end.
and then there was that place. that night. we had been there before. different locations. the name was always the same, but the places changed. that night it was in little tokyo. i remember going up the steep red staircases with her. i felt drunk, already, even though i hadn't even had a sip of anything. she smelled like sandalwood and studio one hairspray. and she sat so close to me, i could feel the tremor of breath fill her body. in and out. i could feel the prickles upon her skin as the cool air whooshed over us. we were sitting so close to a high above vent. she looked up at me with half-closed lids. whispered. slurring her words slightly. she was trying to act drunk, but i knew the truth. "josh thinks you should kiss me." like josh had anything to do with it. with us. but neither of us could deal with the confrontation. of this. of us. and i let her get away with avoidance. and i kissed her. right as 'garlands' began to play. the pulse of the song flooding us. the electricity between our lips sparking. flying. and i trembled. i tremble now. in memory.
music is like that, to me. more powerful than words. smells. pictures or postcards found. it is the music that snaps me back. brings that slideshow into the back of my eyes. beyond my vision. the faces go by. but it is more than just the mere image. more than just a photograph. it is this plunge into those days. splash. drop. i feel like i'm there. and i see the faces again. in different ways. memory is like that. it changes. evolves. deflates. edits. and i see me. the me i was then. in front of me. yet not a reflection of who i am now. but it is still me, it is. i see the similarities. the nuances of my voice. but i see the growth. the way i have left some things of me behind. dropped them off of a tower, into the ocean depths, left on the side of the road, in a goodbye, in an old room. it is like staring at oneself in a carnival mirror. distorted. but it is still you. it is still me, it is.
guilty pleasure of the day: 'felicity'
yes. this week seems to be guilty pleasure tv. doesn't it? okay. so they say this is the "countdown to goodbye". and even though the show is also cliched and runs the gamut of unrealism. it has me. i watch and i'm drawn back. i still care. javier still makes me laugh, warmly. i still feel for felicity, even if sometimes that feeling is of annoyance. i still like to see sean, still see him as the sweetest of the bunch. underrated. and i'm glad his character grew into more than that geeky guy who invents things. and ben. and noel. yes. i grow weary and groan over the "which one do i love? which one do i choose?" and i wonder where this "goodbye" will end. will felicity choose? will she have a ben-noel-felicity menage de trois? will she decide that she really loves megan, steal her from sean, and run off to paris, or rome, or nashville? or will she pack up her bag and leave. alone. realizing she has finally found herself. is okay with herself. that really would be refreshing, but probably not what will happen.
website of the day: www.strangersinparadise.com
a great site, an even better comic. the story will take you. keep you. not let you go. check it out and yes, read it!
laura f
posted by laura at
6:28 PM
Tuesday, April 09, 2002
lyrics for today: 'you said something' pj harvey:
on a rooftop in brooklyn
at one in the morning
watching the lights flash
in manhattan
i see fire bridges
the empire state building
and you said something
that i've never forgotten
we lean against railings
describing the colors
and the smells of our homelands
acting like lovers
how did we get here
to this point of living
i held my breath
you said something
and i'm doing nothing wrong
riding in you car
the radio playing
we sing up to the eighth floor
on a rooftop Manhattan
one in the morning
you said something
that i've never forgotten
you said something
you said something
you said something
that was really important
have you ever noticed the immense power of words. how something can be said, even a few syllables, in person, in a letter, typed, written, whispered, bled, and everything can just change. or everything can stay the same. go on. or not. but those words, no matter how you try to set them free, they live in the deep folds of your skin. in the taste of life. in the wallpaper of your soul.
i know, for me, i have this insatiable need for words. for that language to ricochet from all corners of my mind, my ears, my lips. i always feel the deep recesses of who i am, overwhelming, over-flowing. i always have so damn much to say. and so much i want to have said. i want to be the catalyst for all the words of everyone to come spilling out. all over. all over me. i feel this need to know. to know so much. to learn. and to hear the flowing of words. again and again.
i hold so many words that have been said inside of me. they sneak out in so much of who i am. in my breathing. in my writing. in the way i think. the way i react. so many nights i lie in bed, sleepless, replaying so many words. over and over. and i dissect too much. i evaluate too much. i read to much into words. but it is who i am. how i am. my own breed of insanity, i suppose.
guilty pleasure of the day: 'dawson's creek'
yes. the show is cliche. and the whole idea of how they all ended up in the same town for college. implausible. and the storylines. i roll my eyes at least a gazillion times per episode. at least. but, there is something that pulls me back. last week's 'highway to hell' had me smiling, whether i wanted to or not, at joey singing 'i hate myself for loving you'. so cheesy you can't help but want a bit more. or maybe that's just me.
website of the day: http://www.alwaysontherun.net/lyrics.htm
great source of lyrics. where i found the pj harvey song today.
laura f
on a rooftop in brooklyn
at one in the morning
watching the lights flash
in manhattan
i see fire bridges
the empire state building
and you said something
that i've never forgotten
we lean against railings
describing the colors
and the smells of our homelands
acting like lovers
how did we get here
to this point of living
i held my breath
you said something
and i'm doing nothing wrong
riding in you car
the radio playing
we sing up to the eighth floor
on a rooftop Manhattan
one in the morning
you said something
that i've never forgotten
you said something
you said something
you said something
that was really important
have you ever noticed the immense power of words. how something can be said, even a few syllables, in person, in a letter, typed, written, whispered, bled, and everything can just change. or everything can stay the same. go on. or not. but those words, no matter how you try to set them free, they live in the deep folds of your skin. in the taste of life. in the wallpaper of your soul.
i know, for me, i have this insatiable need for words. for that language to ricochet from all corners of my mind, my ears, my lips. i always feel the deep recesses of who i am, overwhelming, over-flowing. i always have so damn much to say. and so much i want to have said. i want to be the catalyst for all the words of everyone to come spilling out. all over. all over me. i feel this need to know. to know so much. to learn. and to hear the flowing of words. again and again.
i hold so many words that have been said inside of me. they sneak out in so much of who i am. in my breathing. in my writing. in the way i think. the way i react. so many nights i lie in bed, sleepless, replaying so many words. over and over. and i dissect too much. i evaluate too much. i read to much into words. but it is who i am. how i am. my own breed of insanity, i suppose.
guilty pleasure of the day: 'dawson's creek'
yes. the show is cliche. and the whole idea of how they all ended up in the same town for college. implausible. and the storylines. i roll my eyes at least a gazillion times per episode. at least. but, there is something that pulls me back. last week's 'highway to hell' had me smiling, whether i wanted to or not, at joey singing 'i hate myself for loving you'. so cheesy you can't help but want a bit more. or maybe that's just me.
website of the day: http://www.alwaysontherun.net/lyrics.htm
great source of lyrics. where i found the pj harvey song today.
laura f
posted by laura at
4:00 PM
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