Each week a song title will be chosen as a theme. Here's where you blog it. And probably get it stuck in your head.....

31 October 2006

I'd like to Mash

Monsters are streaming into the building in which I work. Luckily, I am one poured concrete floor away from their snotty, shrieking, costumed beings. I can see them through the window, though, meandering in to the "haunted" house I was part of my first year here. No one warned me how gory and yet lame it would be. I'd done haunted houses before -- back in college, we used the music building. Somehow, I always ended up in the Loonie bin.

But, back to the monsters. Back in college I didn't hate them. A few years ago, I didn't, either. But I have had to work with one for the past five months. I don't have the patience to be a parent. Hence, I am not one. I also do not work in a primary school, nor a daycare. I do occasionally have to speak to school groups. I don't know how teachers do field trips -- the whole time I was out there, I kept expecting one monster to push another into traffic. Blood, gore, death, wailing parents....yeah, not cut out for that.

Please, someone, tell me why evolution has not yet installled mute buttons on children?

25 October 2006

Strawberry Fields Forever

Rock and Roll Never Forgets

My parents were not big music buffs. I didn’t grow up in a house filled with classical symphonies, or reeling with jazz riffs, or echoing with country laments. We had records and a record player. I still have my brown and orange plastic Fisher Price turntable (which still works and which I still use for my dad’s old jazz records), but back then, it was mostly used for Sesame Street Fever and the Alvin and the Chipmunks Christmas record.

The summer after my freshman year of high school, I was initiated into the world where rock and roll, music in general, began creating a soundtrack of my life. There are a few memories to music in the years before that, mostly bad pop from the Top 40 station. But that summer, I had my first kiss.

I went to Florida with my best friend’s family – she was a spoiled only child, and her parents found it easier to let her invite a friend along on vacation than to deal with the bored whining of the child who always got her way. It was the second summer I’d gone on vacation with them. This year, though, there were many other people in our general age bracket – high school through college. There was a group of very drunk, very stoned college boys. There were two girls a year older than us from way up the coast in New England somewhere. There were two boys, new stepbrothers on their first blended family vacation. And a few other random floaters, people who drifted in and out of that group. During the day, we would all hang out at the pool while most of the parents and younger kids were out at the beach. My friend’s parents were sun-worshipers, coming home baked and red each day, so they didn’t bother us much. The condo they’d rented had a door to the outside from the room my friend and I shared, so each night, we would sneak out after curfew and join the group down on the boardwalk at the top of the beach.

The boardwalk had some lighted areas, but we stuck to the unlit gazebo on the other side. The drunken college boys brought coolers of beer and a boom box. Looking back, for drunken college boys, they were quite a respectful group – we were always offered beer and pot, but it was never pushed, and while they flirted with all of the (underaged) girls, they never pushed there, either. We were naive, but lucky, I guess. I was drunk on flirting, a new skill for me. For several days and nights, I flirted with one of the stepbrothers – Dan, whose name is so generic I don’t mind posting it. He had nice brown hair, gorgeous blue eyes, and was taller than I was. Not a whole lot to go on, but at 15, I wasn’t very discerning. It had been only a matter of months since I’d had my long-hated braces removed and, in the same period, shed my dorky glasses for contacts. I felt pretty, for the first time ever. I thought I looked pretty hot in my banana-yellow jean shorts paired with either that turquoise bandana shirt that tied at the waist, or the royal purple Hard Rock Café t-shirt. I may have also been color blind.

We would go for walks on the beach with the boys we flirted with. The beach at night was strictly off-limits by the rules of my friend’s parents. I am not sure if they were more concerned about sexual shenanigans or drowning – we never asked – but the taboo made it more fun. The night Dan asked me to go walking was chick-flick perfect: gentle ocean, large, not quite full moon, cloudless sky. We left the boardwalk to U2's Mysterious Ways. We walked. We held hands. Eventually we sat to “talk,” which he did, about his Jeep. Really. His Jeep.

But there was a moment where the moonlight and the mystery and the potential, combined with ocean-blue eyes, that gap, that moment of anticipation of the unknown – of finally getting to answer the ever-present question of why exactly it seemed like a good idea to stick your tongue in someone else’s mouth – all of which was shined through a thin, iridescent film of fear of “doing it wrong” or being a bad kisser.....

And like so many other things in life, there wasn’t planning, there wasn’t direction, there wasn’t thought – kissing, when done right, can be the ultimate act of zen, of being present in the moment, in only that moment, and forgetting that there is an outside or anything really worth worrying about. If only I could summon that kind of focus in other areas of my life.

Dan, as it turned out, had little to talk about besides his Jeep. In a weird twist, he actually lived in the same town I did, and went to a “rival” high school – the rich kids’ school, where students expected to receive a vehicle such as a brand-new Jeep upon gaining the mature and responsible age of 16. He wasn’t a reader, he didn’t much love school, he wasn’t all that interesting. We talked once on the phone after that vacation. Eh.

But I have the moonlight and the ocean and the soundtrack of U2. Rock and roll remembers and reminds.

Music remains a unifying thread in what I can jokingly call my “romantic past.”

In high school, there was REM, turned up loud on the CD player so that my boyfriend’s parents wouldn’t hear us making out. What they would have heard, I don’t know. That, and they didn’t care.

In college, I was wooed with Rush lyrics. I know, it’s nerdy. But there are some good songs out there. In grad school, I dated a man with whom I shared no musical likes. Maybe that should have been an earlier indicator of incompatibility? I don’t know. Another man I dated loaned me CDs with specific songs to listen to, and I reciprocated – a way to let to other know you think of him. Another memory of a bar and a band and generally being goons together – the highlight of a short relationship.

I think it’s this soundtrack, as well as the host of other soundtracks that play in my head – Girls Scout camp (Guns N’ Roses, believe it or not), the 8th grade dance (oh, the drama), college (including the day we discovered that it’s funny to blare your Tool CD in gridlocked traffic in the ritzy part of town, as well as Susan’s unholy love of Kung-Fu Fighting, the Morrissey days, learning the lyrics to the entire Rent soundtrack, and oh so many more things) – that made me understand Cooth’s vision of the blog here. We all have jukeboxes in our heads. We all have soundtracks in our lives. We all have different association with words and songs – and that song titles make good themes, whether you know the song or not.

12 October 2006

Night Moves

Ahhhh, I still remember those night moves. But now, seems the only moving I do at night is getting up to pee. Sucks to be single. Sucks to get old. Guess it beats being dead.

09 October 2006

I'm not playing by myself

I do enough of that. ;-)

Still the Same

Alright, so my original plan for this title was to write about the big reunion between me and Tug. You know, haven't seen each other forever, but these are the things that are "Still the Same". It was going to be brilliant.

BUT- Tug went and found a bug so we had to postpone. NOT cancel - postpone. Just my luck though.....so maybe things are still the same.

I don't get out much. Haven't been out of the state for a real vacation in forever!! The last time I left the state was February of 2005 when my mom and I road tripped to Miles City, Montana to pick up a nephew. Before that was March of 2005 for a trip to my brother's in western MT. And prior to that......2002 was a quick trip not only out of state, but actually out of the country. Went to the International Peace Garden for about an hour. It was frackin' cold that day!

So, yeah, things on my vacations not happening are just that....Still the Same.

Boy, oh boy, do I need a real vacation............

(And no Tug, I'm not mad or bitter or anything like that....I may not know much, but I do know that shit happens!!)

04 October 2006


I'm doing both songs this week. Kinda.

Still the Same. If you've read my other blog at all, you'll know that I've had bronchitis for about 3 weeks. If it's like last year, I've got oh.....about 5 weeks left. NEVER. In my LIFE have I been sick more than ONE.DAY. Until moving to Hell, CO and having unrelenting stress. And I still am not a fan of my "boss". Which really sucks, 'cause I love my job. yuckasucka, I'm tired of hearing myself bitch & whine. Sorry. As for Vaca? I was scheduled to meet a very good lifelong friend of mine I haven't seen for about 15 years - PLANS WERE MADE! MAPQUEST WAS CONSULTED! - when the bronchitis set in. Karma? Even I'VE never sucked this bad. WTF is UP?

01 October 2006

OMG! It's October Already!

My turn at the wheel of songs.

So for next week, you have a choice. Kt is doing Vacation by the GoGo's. My list for the month is a little different.

I'm a huge Bob Seger fan, so we are doing a few of my fave Bob Seger songs.

Oct 2 - Still the Same
Oct 9 - Night Moves
Oct 16- Till it Shines
Oct 23 - Rock 'n Roll Never Forgets

And, October 30, we will do Monster Mash...in honor of Halloween, even though it's not Bob Seger.