You are Ani Difranco!

Self-obsessed and self-possessed,you are a strong woman with a social conscience,
who centers her life around her art. You pour your life experience and passion
into your art, presenting ideas that resonate deep in the souls of others.



Take the "Which Empowered Female Artist Are You" Quiz
made by and

lyrics for today: 'not too soon' throwing muses

she
colourblind
tired eyes
her hallway
aching
she'll never move him - likes it that way
he's just a walker and he'll never stop walking away

it's not too soon he said, it's not too soon at all
you might as well be dead he said
if you're afraid to fall,
i said -, i know her
she said - why do you stare so hard

wrapped up like a doll in bad dreams and broken arms
make these old bones shiver

it's not too soon he said, it's not too soon at all
you might as well be dead he said
If you're afraid to fall, i said - i know her

the last time i saw you, you were standing in the dark
and with a freezing face, i watched you fall apart

it's not too soon he said, it's not too soon at all
you might as well be dead he said
if you're afraid to fall, i said,

done your time, been in your place
i couldn't look you in the face
and tell you that it turns me on
it makes my stomach turn

i know her

today: it feels more like i'm on leave today, even though i awoke early. but i couldn't stay asleep and the day was creeping across the sky. i had to rise. i made this amazing fruit dish. all the summer fruits, and a few others. fresh strawberries, peaches, plums, green grapes, bananas and green apple. so delicious. refreshing. made for a good start for all of us. he enjoyed it while watching the world cup. she enjoyed it, first day of her summer, as she read one of the books we bought yesterday. her big book find at the ann arbor re-use center. big bag of books for $5.00. she is trying to read 50+ books this summer. i've spent the rest of this morning around the house. helped her clean her room and bathroom. i've been in this cleaning mode. "nesting", they say. and going through e-mail. listening to mp3's. she and i just had lunch. a big salad. yum. it was nice to sit at a set table, just her and i, and look out at the day. ground squirrels hunting on the lawn. a bunny hopping by. birds in so many colours. everything is so green. i think i want to take another walk later, maybe after a nap. i'm feeling quite tired right now. sleepy. the one inside is bouncing about. kicking. feet in my ribs. she loves the sound of his voice. always pulls to the side of where it comes from. it glows on his face, this knowledge. so beautiful to see. i'm ready for all of this. i want it now. but, i'm trying to just find my way to wait.

so, i decided to change my "guilty pleasures" to just "pleasures". i was thinking about this while in the bath. raspberry bubbles rising around me. i thought that there isn't things that i enjoy that i feel guilt over. not really. and i don't necessary like guilt. so, that will change. (for those following around ;))

pleasure of the day: summer fruit

i have that song from my childhood stuck in my head, from the commercials...i think for a local grocery store. "summer, summer fruits - it wouldn't be summer without them." it wouldn't. not for me.

i remember trips to the farmer's market in irvine, before it became the mega-tech-multi-business-plexes. all the rows of colourful fruit. and my mom and i would bag them up. our favourites. me: strawberries, plums, peaches. her: strawberries (as well, a shared love), watermelon, nectarines. the smell permeating the car as we drove home. sneaking a strawberry or two. the "blow on it" rule. sure, it's clean enough. and sharing a glass bottle coke. together. my mom called us "sharing friends" those summers.

website of the day: http//:www.audiogalaxy.com

great site for mp3's. i have a group there (well, a group for the music group i moderate). sharingsound. everyone should join :D

last five songs:
'calling it quits' aimee mann
'song for the leftovers' a camp
'jump' aztec camera
'love you like i do' him
'le rendez vous' manu chao

laura f

If you were a Francesca Lia Block book, which one would you be? take the quiz here!

lyrics for today: 'nightingale' norah jones

nightingale
sing us a song
of a love that once belonged
nightingale
tell me your tale
was your journey far too long?

does it seem like i'm looking for an answer
to a question i can't ask
i don't know which way the feather falls
or if i should blow it to the left

all the voices that are spinnin' around me
trying to tell me what to say
can i fly right behind you
and you can take me away

today: i'm trying to release calm in me today. i've been so frustrated and angry. i know it isn't good for me. or for the one inside. so i'm listening to norah jones. soothing. and i'm trying to breathe - as a dear friend suggested. today i'm home, as i have a doctor's appointment. i am feeling the calm and need of being home. this is so what i need right now. and a part of me is fearing that even this trip to the doctor's won't solve the problem. that i'll wind up back at work longer. exhausted. stressed. i just want to come across clear. say what i need to say. not become a basketcase. breathe.

guilty pleasure of the day: goth music

tee hee. always a goth inside (even when i'm not wearing black). i still love to dive deep into the music...at least from the goth era i associate with. siouxie. sisters of mercy. the cure. bauhaus. cocteau twins. sex gang children. clan of xymox. mission u.k.

website of the day: http://www.norahjones.com/

if you haven't listened to her, go now go.

laura f

Which Member of the Endless Are You?

lyrics for today: 'little plastic castle' ani difranco

little plastic castle
in a coffee shop in a city
which is every coffee shop
in every city
on a day which is every day
i pick up a magazine
which is every magazine
and read a story then forgot it right away

they say goldfish have no memory
i guess their lives are much like mine
the little plastic castle
is a surprise every time
it's hard to say if they are happy
but they don't seem much to mind

from the shape of your shaved head
i recognized your silhoutte
as you walked out of the sun and sat down
and the sight of your sleepy smile eclipsed all the other people
as they paused to snear at the two girls from out of town

and i said "look at you this morning
you are by far the cutest
but be careful getting coffee
i think these people wanna shoot us
or maybe there's some kind of local competition here
to see who can be the rudest"

people talk about my image
like i come in two dimensions
like lipstick is a sign of my declining mind
like what i happen to be wearing the day
that someone takes my picture
is my new statement for all of womankind

i wish they could see us now
in leather bras and rubber shorts
like some ridiculous team uniform
for some ridiculous new sport
quick someone call the girl police
and file a report

in a coffee shop in a city
which is every coffee shop
in every city
on a day which is every day

today has been one of those days where i just want to stand up and scream. at the top of my lungs. not caring who hears. or how they react. the most simplest things just aren't that - simple. and the way things were supposed to be working out, just aren't. and now, after tears and so much frustration, i'm trying to breathe. trying to re-arrange my view. i can't be this upset right now, i know that. it isn't good for me, or the one inside. so i try to be okay with all of this.
and, when you think about it, these are insignificant things. these frustrations. but they feel so damn big and overwhelming. i want to lose my memory for a moment. see the plastic castle and be surprised. like the fish in his tank. swimming about. pleasantly not knowing what happened the hour before (or so they say).
i was supposed to be starting my maternity leave on monday. today was supposed to be my last day. all that was needed was for papers to be signed correctly by my doctor. but they weren't. now i don't know what to do. i am exhausted. i need the time off. but i can't live without the money i'm supposed to receive on leave. and i won't get any of it if these papers aren't done correctly. so, now i'm not on leave. i'll be back here monday morning. and i don't know for how long. and i feel defeated. i was so ready for this time...even if i had my self-doubt of letting myself relax (i'm not so good at that). but i was ready. now what?

guilty pleasure of the day: headphones

i don't know what i'd do without them, at work. i work in a cubicle. a long line of them. "veal fattening pens", as he calls them. ick. but i have no speakers, because of this. and i don't like to work in silence. i need music to keep me sane (well, as sane as i'll ever be). so i adore these headphones. today they are playing some of my favourites...another attempt of mine to calm me. to not be so upset.

here's what i'm hearing today - four cd's:
ani difranco 'little plastic castle'
counting crows 'this desert life'
tori amos 'from the choirgirl hotel'
fiona apple 'when the pawn...'

website of the day: http://www.danah.org/Ani/

a great ani lyric site (keen pics, too!)

laura f

'the way you choose to write it'
06/07/02

the two of us crossed the bridge that early morning,
arm in arm, cheek to cheek,
our hair tangling into each others.
we had to hold each other up to keep walking,
too many chemicals spinning in our heads,
and the music still ringing over and over in our ears. maybe we should have been in bed,
for one reason or another,
but here we were,
together.

you were my catastrophe, my derring-do,
my grand rebellion a few years late.
and what was i to you?
just another girl tied to your words,
your made-up names,
your slurred words and soft lips.
i don't think i really want to know,
even now,
years later.

we saw the tunnel ahead, dark and decayed,
and we kept walking on,
into all the damp nothing,
still holding on.
you told me that trains came through,
speeding,
how we would only know when it was too late,
and yet we kept walking on.
i felt my head sting,
my eyes blur,
i wanted to fall onto my knees,
or into your arms,
either one.

the sky lights led us to the end, the air clearing, our breath making marks in the space between us, blending into each other,
and the night.
we split apart,
lifted our legs and arms,
began the climb to the top of the tunnel,
to the new destination.
i scraped my knee,
my left elbow,
and my face was so dirty,
but you still said i was so beautiful,
right then.

the trip up was the hardest of them all,
out of breath, sore,
but the payoff was lying side by side,
watching the sky change into a million different colours,
over a just-woken city.
i could feel your words on my skin,
our lips barely touching,
my whole existance lighting up at a touch,
at us.

a lifetime later i was asked questions,
one of those late night conversations we all have, soul-baring,
drunk on too much coffee and the early morning hours. and that was the night i answered with,
my most intimate,
the one that i still shake with.
everyone else had more skin,
bodies intwined in public places,
cheap motel rooms,
high school gyms.
but this was it for me,
the big passion,
that night.

and they laughed at me,
seeing me as more of something, or less,
than what they imagined.
times like these you realize how little people really know,
about who we really are.
how this life is what we decide it to be,
our sleepy dreamlike perceptions,
the way we choose to write the tale,
or silence it.

laura f

You are Drew
Barrymore!

You acted in cool movies like:


Charlie's Angels, Never Been Kissed, The Wedding Singer,


Scream, Poison Ivy and E.T.


Take the "Which Hollywood Princess are you?"
quiz @ planetag.de

lyrics for today: 'how you've grown' 10,000 maniacs

'how you've grown'

"my, how you've grown."
i remember that phrase from my childhood days too.
"just wait and see."
i remember those words and how they chided me, when patient was the hardest thing to be.
because we can't make up for the time that we've lost, i must let these memories provide.
no little girl can stop her world to wait for me.

i should have known.
at your age, in a string of days the year is gone.
but in that space of time, it takes so long.
because we can't make up for the time that we've lost, i must let those memories provide.
no little girl can stop her world to wait for me.

every time we say goodbye you're frozen in my mind as the child that you never will be, you never will be again.
i'll never be more to you than a stranger could be.

every time we say goodbye you're frozen in my mind as a child that you never will be, will be again.

i watch her and she grows leaps and bounds before my eyes. everything about her is changing. and some of it just flies by too fast for me. i'm out of breath trying to catch up to her. pin her down for a moment. just to talk. to hear. to listen.
she insisted on buying a bra this past weekend. she didn't "need" it physically, but emotionally i guess she really did. so i got her one. she wears it with this glow, like it means something so big to her that can't be verbalized, but i see it. in her face. in her stride.
and part of me cries, though i don't let her see it. i don't ever want to hold her back, yet the insides of me do. it all goes so fast.

guilty pleasure of the day: 'buffy the vampire slayer'

yay. i finally saw the season finale today. i loved it, in all it's cheesy splendor. i had lost my love of the show sometime a season or more ago, but this season hooked me back in. and i have been trying to get up to speed with the help of re-runs on fx. and now i have the first season dvd. wheeeeeee. i've been saving it to watch, so i have something to do while on maternity leave. i can't wait to start.
yay for willow :)

website of the day: http://www.willowandtara.com/fans/

yay for willow & tara!

laura f

'when does it happen?'
6/6/02

i'm waiting for my zenith,
my high-flying trip to anywhere,
my clarity, my shaking moment of awareness,
that second when i finally see it all.

but here i sit waiting,
counting days and hours and inner movements,
still trying to figure out who the hell i really am,
like i could ever piece that puzzle together.

i guess i thought when i grew to this,
that i would just know everything,
or at least the in's and out's of what i really want,
but i still sit blinded by dreams and fears.

do we ever reach that cradle of understanding,
is it only in death that we can fully open our eyes,
embrace our pride and failings and beauty,
just see the mysteries that lie beneath the surface of our skins.

i want it before the last and end,
wrap it around me in security and futility,
look into my hands and see a reflection of "i get it",
finally lie back and breathe with some sort of isolated calm.

laura f

'that something'
6/4/02

i sit here feeling nostalgia for the times in-between, you and i,
the crackle and pop of our times and tides,
the us in all of it, the me and the you.

i get this way sometimes, moved by something as silly as a television show, tears just brimming on the edge of my eyes and my memory.

you were always something enormous to me, hard to hang onto, impossible to control (and you know, i'm used to controlling it all).

we have traversed all the oceans of good and bad, you always letting yourself fall in the torrent of isolation and danger, me, the some too proud lioness, over-full with caretaking, enabling, mothering everyone, forever trying to take care of you.

and the brawls and the separations, i see them crystal clear, i know the scars they left on us as individuals, and on us as just that -- us.

and i recognize the growth that has overtaken us, like it or not, the life raft that seems to show up right when we were ready to surrender, to let each other go, to sink.

so i ask myself if this is a classic love, you and i, the stuff of fairy tales and cheesy hallmark cards.

the thought of it makes me laugh, us, like that? impossible.

yet, we keep coming back to this spot, face to face, side by side, two mixes of hot and cold lined up together, touching, next to each other in this spice rack of life.

we need each other to breathe, or to feel, or to do something.

i don't know, maybe i'm not really meant to know.

but it's here, between us, even on the days i want to run and hide, it's still here.

and so are all the facts, lined out, spelled out, before me.

you will never be a prince charming, i will never be a statuesque goddess, but we fit in our never will be's.

don't you think?

we fit in that hard to describe "something".

laura f

'cat eyes'
6/4/02

under the beads of sweat and crystal and blue flicker of light, we moved, we danced,
we fell.
you in your obsidian beads and crushed velvet pants, pale skin luminous, glowing,
feathered.

i traced lines around your lips on the floor of your room, pucker up baby, show me a smile,
collapse.
our hair made out of the same bottles, staining the tile around the sink, droplets of blue and black,
tears.

he circled around you, then me, in the pace and demeanor of saints and death, crashing stars, bewitching.
we drove there singing in unison, voices raised and lit up, bottle of absinthe in between your legs, green goblins of fire, lap it up, sink,
devour.

there was so much passion in the most mundane words, the music sweeping in wafts of colour around us, pulse racing, too much of everything,
nothing.
but no one would remember, crossed out names in the sand, made up aspirations, titles,
goodbyes.

yet we have the same mark on our backs, the napkins and paper mache, i still smell your flavours, tongues twitching and trailing our souls,
again.
years have dwindled away, and these are just hidden embers of time, decay, but i hold them up to my ears, hear their stories, close my eyes, feel the drumbeat, and the light again, reflecting off your sway,
destiny.

laura f

'cracks'
6/3/02

back and forth, forth and back,
my stitches are failing, slipping off the needle,
constantly dropping far beneath your bar of expectation, as always,
as always.

you sit and dole them out, careless and whimsical,
not seeing the knife edge exposed, the blade cut deep,
your niddering is well-hidden in your depostion, cutting me down again,
and again.

i keep shining my shoes, combing my hair,
over-doing every inch of my life, hoping you'll notice,
but all i do is run circles around the reality of me,
losing inches and yards of my spine, my heart,
i'm still losing.

stay on the dotted line, within the confines of the picture, and i have tried, but this isn't supposed to be about retribution, a mother's love, at this age we should be able to see each other on a level ground,
put the scissors away, for good,
for good.

but i'm still running around, frazzled and frayed, trying to be the reflection you seek, and the brakes are screeching to a halt, inside of me, whether i pushed them or not, this has to stop, the picture of your perfect one is cracked, and it will stay that way, the cracks are okay.

they are okay.

laura f