So, my parents friends just celebrated their 22nd wedding anniversary. Mr. John, who is not quite right in the head, provided this lovely card for his wife:
The front features 2 women in bikini's standing very close to each other.
The inside of the card reads: "It's so great to have a friend like you-- with similar interests".
Below the card he writes "Happy 22nd Anniversary"
... and tapes a 22caliber bullet to the card.
Lucky for him, he also gave her diamond earrings or she may have used the bullet that he provided.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
Self Portrait with Corn
I used to have a drawing blog which I have since deserted. One of my husband's friends commented that he checks my old drawing blog every day in hopes of me making a new drawing. That is a bit sad- but it explains where all of my traffic comes from...
Anyway- that comment inspired me to draw tonight. And here it is: Self Portrait with Corn. Obviously I am the orange lady. Do you like that groovy hair flip I have going on? This weekend I saw a black woman with short hair flip it up to one side. A-symmetrical they call it. No, in real life my hair doesn't actually look like that.
And then you see my students-represented by the blue piranhas sucking the life-blood out of me and carelessly spilling it on my clothes-and face-and hair. Damn students! Stop sending me a million emails and complaining about 2 point deductions! I have research to do! (And lives to save.)
To my right you see The Corn, and between us: wedding bells. This is supposed to be representative of the fact that my new boss "Alice" just got engaged. Well- he asked her- I bet on valentines day- and they got the ring later. A beautiful diamond ring. And since he asked her on VDay- he is depicted as corn. And since diamonds are impossible to do justice to in the 2D form in which my art lives-- we have the bells.
What these two things really represent I think is the fact that I am looking forward to having lunch with my new boss "Alice" tomorrow at the semesterly "Take-A-Prof to Lunch" event that my university holds. I have asked around-but little is known about Alice- or her Fiance. They both have tattoos. It is interesting to me that such a superficial observation is all that my lab mates have gleaned about them. But this will all change tomorrow at lunch when I discover the life of my new boss, my favorite professor.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Slow Children at Play
Here's another Sylvan anecdote for those who enjoy them:
I arrived at work the other day to find the two owners (a married couple) in a big and raucous hoopla, over what, I was not sure. The wifey was squawking and flitting about worrying that her toddler of a husband had planted the lizard she found crawling on her purse strap in the actual purse. The husband was getting her all worked up by throwing pieces of balled up, lime-green post-it notes at her.
"What's going on?" I demanded. Note, there is NEVER this much excitement percolating when I come into work.
The wifey gave me the run down on the invading lizard who had set up camp in her office.
Feeling bold, I marched into her office to find the little guy (note, I really like lizards!). He was in between the wall and the side of her desk, with his eyes squinted. It was almost as if he hoped that if everyone else was coming in fuzzy for him, that we would have the courtesy to pass him over in the landscape as well.
Now, lizards are fast. And I don't like grabbing their bellies, cause they're soft and I don't want to squish anything important, as it would defeat the purpose of the rescue mission. So I made a rookie mistake and went for the tail, figuring that he'd be easier to catch and I wouldn't harm him in the process. I hoisted him in the air and he started thrashing every which way for about three seconds before he detached from his tail. The tail segment fell to the ground and continued its wiggle, and the lizard bolted to hide under some buttons and fliers underneath the wifey's desk.
I moved the propaganda out of the way and unearthed the now scared-shitless lizard. I knew I had no choice but to go for the abdomen. With my ninja-like reflexes, I caught him before he could dart off again, though I was careful to not squeeze him too hard.
He held his mouth open as wide as it would go and began turning all assortments of colors. I tried rubbing his head to calm him in his duress, but figured that was ridiculous so I just brought him to the door as quickly as possible.
I carefully and strategically dropped him in the "garden" onto some ground-cover, but he got confused and turned around since he couldn't stick the dismount on an even, flat surface. He headed straight back inside and the wifey started clapping and yelling, "Oh, no! Don't come back THIS way! Oh, he's a slow learner!"
And before I could stop my mouth, these words fell out, "Well, no wonder he's at Sylvan."
Immediately afterwards, I placed my hands over my mouth to prevent anything else just as horrible from spilling forth.
Needless to say no one, save my terrible, awful self, thought it was funny.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
we'll stay alive no matter what occurs!
I'm not sure why I've chosen this movie quote as the title of my post . . . other than it popped into my head, and that seems to be how I label most blog posts: the first thing to pop into my head wins!
Nice feedback on the bummer of a coffee meeting! What TR commented was of particular interest to me, and something that I will keep in mind as I take my first flying leap into the world of dating. Don't get me wrong, I've dated here and there, but never with rapid-fire succession, i.e. I've never dated a high volume of guys. I'm normally way too shy when it comes to interacting with males in whom I have romantic interests. The reason for that is VERY old, and boils down to this: when I was little I didn't think I was of value or worthy of love because I was fat. There. I said it.
But now that I've set foot on these online dating grounds, I've been thrust into a world that is somewhat alien to me.
I met up with someone last night, let's call him Col. Mustard, whom I'm connected to through one of the afore-mentioned sites and I dare say that this meeting went SO much better than the last. There were things I liked and things I didn't like as much about the guy; however, I'm coming to realize that I've been far too critical of the opposite sex. As long as the good outweighs the bad, which in his case it does, then I feel like I should learn to accept that people are people and not a damn one of them is perfect. Yours truly included.
A good sign about meeting Col. Mustard: I was nervous before we actually met. You might be thinking, "Huh. Nervous? What's good about that, Skuh?" I'm pleased you asked. What's good about it, is that I was excited to meet him. When I was meeting Crema Face, I could have cared less. Of course, the nervousness may have been due to the anticipation leading up to our meeting in person, but I'm confident that part of that anxiety was, "Oh, man. I'm glad I finally get to meet Col. Mustard."
Yet another precursor to my tension was due to worrying that he'd find me too rotund for his taste, and that it would be obvious. But that's neither here nor there.
We're probably going to hang out again.
So, I guess you could say last night was very heartening.
Nice feedback on the bummer of a coffee meeting! What TR commented was of particular interest to me, and something that I will keep in mind as I take my first flying leap into the world of dating. Don't get me wrong, I've dated here and there, but never with rapid-fire succession, i.e. I've never dated a high volume of guys. I'm normally way too shy when it comes to interacting with males in whom I have romantic interests. The reason for that is VERY old, and boils down to this: when I was little I didn't think I was of value or worthy of love because I was fat. There. I said it.
But now that I've set foot on these online dating grounds, I've been thrust into a world that is somewhat alien to me.
I met up with someone last night, let's call him Col. Mustard, whom I'm connected to through one of the afore-mentioned sites and I dare say that this meeting went SO much better than the last. There were things I liked and things I didn't like as much about the guy; however, I'm coming to realize that I've been far too critical of the opposite sex. As long as the good outweighs the bad, which in his case it does, then I feel like I should learn to accept that people are people and not a damn one of them is perfect. Yours truly included.
A good sign about meeting Col. Mustard: I was nervous before we actually met. You might be thinking, "Huh. Nervous? What's good about that, Skuh?" I'm pleased you asked. What's good about it, is that I was excited to meet him. When I was meeting Crema Face, I could have cared less. Of course, the nervousness may have been due to the anticipation leading up to our meeting in person, but I'm confident that part of that anxiety was, "Oh, man. I'm glad I finally get to meet Col. Mustard."
Yet another precursor to my tension was due to worrying that he'd find me too rotund for his taste, and that it would be obvious. But that's neither here nor there.
We're probably going to hang out again.
So, I guess you could say last night was very heartening.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
told you once, told you twice. next time I won't be so nice.
Not sure if I've reported to you all that I joined online dating services on a whim, but I think that I have, so here's an update. I met in person, for the first time ever, someone whom I know solely from the Interwebs.
I was studying at CC's when he met up with me for coffee. I left all of my books out, which was many, and we talked for a little over an hour. He's from the north, and at the risk of sounding too southern, he was so obviously a yankee. Well . . . maybe it wasn't the obvious yankee in him that turned me off, rather the shameless snob. He claimed that no one knew how to make coffee in the south and admitted that CC's is "the lowest he'll go." Digging his grave deeper, he admitted that if he sees one of his students working, he'll direct them as per how his crema on his espresso should turn out. I thought this was the end, but alas, he admitted further that, he once BROUGHT HIS OWN COFFEE to a C-O-F-F-E-E H-O-U-S-E and asked them to brew it for him. I probably had a look of pity on my face after this admission, because he then fessed up that he, "has something of a coffee problem." He mentioned that in one of his e-mails.
At the time, I didn't know how serious he was.
He also said that we don't have real bagels here, but after some of the bagels I had in New York, I can kind of see where he's coming from.
He seemed SO much older than I am and he's supposedly only 31. Don't know if I believe that.
When he got up to leave -- which was abrupter than abrupt -- he said hurriedly, "It was lovely meeting you . . . See you around." And walked off without so much as a notion of the hand shake he introduced himself with.
That was a little disheartening.
I was studying at CC's when he met up with me for coffee. I left all of my books out, which was many, and we talked for a little over an hour. He's from the north, and at the risk of sounding too southern, he was so obviously a yankee. Well . . . maybe it wasn't the obvious yankee in him that turned me off, rather the shameless snob. He claimed that no one knew how to make coffee in the south and admitted that CC's is "the lowest he'll go." Digging his grave deeper, he admitted that if he sees one of his students working, he'll direct them as per how his crema on his espresso should turn out. I thought this was the end, but alas, he admitted further that, he once BROUGHT HIS OWN COFFEE to a C-O-F-F-E-E H-O-U-S-E and asked them to brew it for him. I probably had a look of pity on my face after this admission, because he then fessed up that he, "has something of a coffee problem." He mentioned that in one of his e-mails.
At the time, I didn't know how serious he was.
He also said that we don't have real bagels here, but after some of the bagels I had in New York, I can kind of see where he's coming from.
He seemed SO much older than I am and he's supposedly only 31. Don't know if I believe that.
When he got up to leave -- which was abrupter than abrupt -- he said hurriedly, "It was lovely meeting you . . . See you around." And walked off without so much as a notion of the hand shake he introduced himself with.
That was a little disheartening.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Valentimes
I went on a professional development trip in a van with our two librarians, both about 59 years old (who think they are my two black mamas) and three other English teachers: teacher A we'll call "Pixie" because she is a thin as a rail white girl with hair down to her butt and very eccentric, and also very smart and nice. Teacher B we'll call "Bridge"--she's an African American girl from New Orleans who is very private--her mom died recently--but who has been like my big sister at school as far as helping me with teaching, so we're close-ish even though we don't really know each other. And teacher C we'll call "Blondie."
So we arrive Thursday evening and sign in and get all of our complimentary crap, which isn't crap at all, that includes a free drink in the lobby. Bridge and the librarians don't drink, so they give Pixie, Blondie, and me their cards and we all have two drinks. I had a gin and tonic followed by a red wine, which was a weird combo. (I've discoved on this trip that I don't like most hard-alcohol and that a thick, smooth red wine is my favorie drink.) Anyway, the other three decided to go to Outback steakhouse, and Pixie and I decided we were going to walk to meet them after we finished our drinks. Blondie decided she was going to split from the group and meet up with her friend who lives in town for drinks. So Pixie and I walk to Outback, pass it up, ask a guy at Macaroni Grill where it's located, find a sushi place on the way, and eat there instead. It was very enjoyable and it was the first time we hung out together. We like the same things, and that was comforting. We went back to the hotel, I sat with her on a couch in the lobby lounge where she had a glass of white wine, and we went back up to our rooms. I was rooming with Bridge. We talked and then fell asleep around 10 or 10:30.
The phone rang in the middle of the night. Bridge picked it up. I hear, "What?...Oh Lord...the hospital?...What happened?...Oh, that doesn't sound right..." She hangs up. The front desk had called Pixie and told her that her roomate was found passed out outside the hotel and had hit her head, and was being whisked away to the hospital in an ambulance. Bridge said she was worried because this could mean that some guy took advantage of her and hurt her--or that it could mean anything. Bridge called the librarians. We were all awake for about two hours. Bridge and the librarians got dressed, called a cab, went to get her. With nothing else to do, I hoped she was okay, and I fell back into sleep.
Bridge got back and said everything was fine and that Blondie's back in her room.
"What was the matter?" I said.
"She was drunk," she said. And we both went back to sleep and woke up very early for our conference the next day.
I got more of the story in the morning, but it still doesn't make sense. Reportedly, Blondie was in the ER hooked up to an IV and the nurses were pissed off because she was fighting them and trying to rip out the IV and leave. Bridge was freaked out to be there in the first place because of all the time she spent there when her mom was dying, but she managed to talk to her and get her to calm down enough to leave the IV in. They had done a cat scan and bloodwork. "She's very intoxicated," said the nurse to the librarians. She also didn't know how she got to the hospital--she had completely blacked out, but she wasn't admitting it, or didn't know it. (We still don't know how she ended up outside the hotel, passed out on the ground.) She wasn't speaking in sentences or making sense. She wouldn't answer any questions. She asked them why they were there and said that they shouldn't have come there and they should have left her there. The hospital staff said they were only going to release her because the librarians had come--otherwise, they'd keep her overnight in the state she was in, and if she would try to leave, they'd have had to put her in jail.
On the way home in the cab, she chatted hazily with the cabbie and leaned over and turned on the radio. When she got back in the room, Pixie said she wouldn't tell her what happened--she just shook her head over and over and said "I'm going to be on the librarians' shit list now, I know it."
We went to the conference without her. In the late afternoon, the librarians, Bridge, and Pixie went to have a talk with her in her room about the fact that she needs help. She's still in deep denial and said that she didn't want them to think badly of her and didn't want them to think she was an alcoholic. She told Pixie she was worried about what I thought of her. I didn't see her once or call her once the whole day--mostly because I have nothing to say, but also because I want to keep going in my own life without that mess. I had papers to grade, classes to go to, and I didn't want her to ruin my little vacation. I also didn't want to end up saying "Oh, it's okay" just because it'd be uncomfortable to talk to her--I didn't, and still don't, want to give her a "pass" on the responsibility of this. I am still surprised about how inconsiderate her behavior was. If I end up saying something to her, if she asks, it will be this:
"Blondie, I don't think you realize this, but you pretty much ruined our weekend. You hugely inconvenienced us by waking us up in the middle of the night, making us worry, making some of us go to get you at the hospital, making us upset and uncomfortable, and offending us with your immature and inconsiderate behavior. I will not say "it's ok"--you have a problem with alcohol and you are in denial about it, and you need to start taking care of yourself, not only because you deserve that for yourself, but because you can be a burden on other people, and that's just not fair to them."
But we ended up having a fun night with an all expenses paid dinner and a live band at a restaurant, and we all danced--well, except Blondie didn't come with us. But we had a great time, went home, woke up in the morning and had Breakfast in the hotel restaurant--Blondie was there, and all I said to her was "You feeling okay?" and left it at that--and then we all drove home. In my interactions with her, I didn't act like anything had happened, but I also didn't really talk to her directly because I didn't have anything to say to her and I didn't want to talk about what happened. I guess I just feel like we're not really close enough for me to be worried about her or try to help her as if it's my responsibility (because I am prone to doing that and acting like the mama, and I don't want to do that this time). I'm trying to be a guy about this--a guy would not try to be friends with someone who was a burden. They'd keep it light.
The only shitty thing is that we kind of have the same group of friends at school. She's going to tell them her version of it and probably make it sound like she was just having a good time and everyone else made a big deal about it because we are all goodies or something, because she was too out of it to know what really happened and she's in denial anyway. I am naturally going to want to tell everyone what REALLY happened, but I don't want to be that guy! I want to stay out of it truly and completely, or else it'll be like asking our friends to take sides on the issue. It's going to be all around school in one second anyway, and it'll probably be some skewed version--ulgh, I don't want to even think about it. I hate the drama of it and people are going to feed on it like fish. People are going to ask me directly what happened. I guess maybe it wouldn't hurt to tell it straight, but I'll have to be really careful not to try to be "right" about the situation or judgy or dramatic, and I know that Blondie doesn't want me going around and telling everyone about this humiliating story about her. The principal knows about it already, because it had to be reported since it happened on school time and school money, so I don't know what's going to happen with that.
I don't know guys...what is the appropriate thing for me to do on Monday when people ask me about it?
So we arrive Thursday evening and sign in and get all of our complimentary crap, which isn't crap at all, that includes a free drink in the lobby. Bridge and the librarians don't drink, so they give Pixie, Blondie, and me their cards and we all have two drinks. I had a gin and tonic followed by a red wine, which was a weird combo. (I've discoved on this trip that I don't like most hard-alcohol and that a thick, smooth red wine is my favorie drink.) Anyway, the other three decided to go to Outback steakhouse, and Pixie and I decided we were going to walk to meet them after we finished our drinks. Blondie decided she was going to split from the group and meet up with her friend who lives in town for drinks. So Pixie and I walk to Outback, pass it up, ask a guy at Macaroni Grill where it's located, find a sushi place on the way, and eat there instead. It was very enjoyable and it was the first time we hung out together. We like the same things, and that was comforting. We went back to the hotel, I sat with her on a couch in the lobby lounge where she had a glass of white wine, and we went back up to our rooms. I was rooming with Bridge. We talked and then fell asleep around 10 or 10:30.
The phone rang in the middle of the night. Bridge picked it up. I hear, "What?...Oh Lord...the hospital?...What happened?...Oh, that doesn't sound right..." She hangs up. The front desk had called Pixie and told her that her roomate was found passed out outside the hotel and had hit her head, and was being whisked away to the hospital in an ambulance. Bridge said she was worried because this could mean that some guy took advantage of her and hurt her--or that it could mean anything. Bridge called the librarians. We were all awake for about two hours. Bridge and the librarians got dressed, called a cab, went to get her. With nothing else to do, I hoped she was okay, and I fell back into sleep.
Bridge got back and said everything was fine and that Blondie's back in her room.
"What was the matter?" I said.
"She was drunk," she said. And we both went back to sleep and woke up very early for our conference the next day.
I got more of the story in the morning, but it still doesn't make sense. Reportedly, Blondie was in the ER hooked up to an IV and the nurses were pissed off because she was fighting them and trying to rip out the IV and leave. Bridge was freaked out to be there in the first place because of all the time she spent there when her mom was dying, but she managed to talk to her and get her to calm down enough to leave the IV in. They had done a cat scan and bloodwork. "She's very intoxicated," said the nurse to the librarians. She also didn't know how she got to the hospital--she had completely blacked out, but she wasn't admitting it, or didn't know it. (We still don't know how she ended up outside the hotel, passed out on the ground.) She wasn't speaking in sentences or making sense. She wouldn't answer any questions. She asked them why they were there and said that they shouldn't have come there and they should have left her there. The hospital staff said they were only going to release her because the librarians had come--otherwise, they'd keep her overnight in the state she was in, and if she would try to leave, they'd have had to put her in jail.
On the way home in the cab, she chatted hazily with the cabbie and leaned over and turned on the radio. When she got back in the room, Pixie said she wouldn't tell her what happened--she just shook her head over and over and said "I'm going to be on the librarians' shit list now, I know it."
We went to the conference without her. In the late afternoon, the librarians, Bridge, and Pixie went to have a talk with her in her room about the fact that she needs help. She's still in deep denial and said that she didn't want them to think badly of her and didn't want them to think she was an alcoholic. She told Pixie she was worried about what I thought of her. I didn't see her once or call her once the whole day--mostly because I have nothing to say, but also because I want to keep going in my own life without that mess. I had papers to grade, classes to go to, and I didn't want her to ruin my little vacation. I also didn't want to end up saying "Oh, it's okay" just because it'd be uncomfortable to talk to her--I didn't, and still don't, want to give her a "pass" on the responsibility of this. I am still surprised about how inconsiderate her behavior was. If I end up saying something to her, if she asks, it will be this:
"Blondie, I don't think you realize this, but you pretty much ruined our weekend. You hugely inconvenienced us by waking us up in the middle of the night, making us worry, making some of us go to get you at the hospital, making us upset and uncomfortable, and offending us with your immature and inconsiderate behavior. I will not say "it's ok"--you have a problem with alcohol and you are in denial about it, and you need to start taking care of yourself, not only because you deserve that for yourself, but because you can be a burden on other people, and that's just not fair to them."
But we ended up having a fun night with an all expenses paid dinner and a live band at a restaurant, and we all danced--well, except Blondie didn't come with us. But we had a great time, went home, woke up in the morning and had Breakfast in the hotel restaurant--Blondie was there, and all I said to her was "You feeling okay?" and left it at that--and then we all drove home. In my interactions with her, I didn't act like anything had happened, but I also didn't really talk to her directly because I didn't have anything to say to her and I didn't want to talk about what happened. I guess I just feel like we're not really close enough for me to be worried about her or try to help her as if it's my responsibility (because I am prone to doing that and acting like the mama, and I don't want to do that this time). I'm trying to be a guy about this--a guy would not try to be friends with someone who was a burden. They'd keep it light.
The only shitty thing is that we kind of have the same group of friends at school. She's going to tell them her version of it and probably make it sound like she was just having a good time and everyone else made a big deal about it because we are all goodies or something, because she was too out of it to know what really happened and she's in denial anyway. I am naturally going to want to tell everyone what REALLY happened, but I don't want to be that guy! I want to stay out of it truly and completely, or else it'll be like asking our friends to take sides on the issue. It's going to be all around school in one second anyway, and it'll probably be some skewed version--ulgh, I don't want to even think about it. I hate the drama of it and people are going to feed on it like fish. People are going to ask me directly what happened. I guess maybe it wouldn't hurt to tell it straight, but I'll have to be really careful not to try to be "right" about the situation or judgy or dramatic, and I know that Blondie doesn't want me going around and telling everyone about this humiliating story about her. The principal knows about it already, because it had to be reported since it happened on school time and school money, so I don't know what's going to happen with that.
I don't know guys...what is the appropriate thing for me to do on Monday when people ask me about it?
Saturday, February 14, 2009
stealin' hearts
Hey ladies! Happy Valentine's Day!
Usually, I'm not too big on this holiday, but for the first time ever, I actually have a boyfriend. The fact that he's a few thousand miles away is unimportant. I still plan to enjoy a singles awareness party with some hens and one wayward rooster.
So, I'm going to engage in some thievery right now. Facebook thievery. I saw some posts by a girl that Tino is a good friend of, she and some girls that blog together (sound familiar?) are putting up their 5 favorite love songs each to make a V-day mixtape. I thought we might do the same. List 5 songs, not necessarily happy, "I love you so much you can fart in my face" types of songs, but anything that you feel is a good message of love. Whether it's friendship, romantic, love gone wrong, unrequited, etc. I'm proposing we continue to do it until everyone who still actually contributes puts a list up, aka, we'll not just limit it to today. Besides, most of my love will be felt when I go buy candy for 50% off tomorrow at Kroger.
I'll start!
1. Feist "Inside and Out"
It may be hard to get over the 70s/Bee Gees sound of this song. Ironically, I wrote that before I looked it up and realized it actually is a cover of a Bee Gees song. I actually didn't pay much attention to it until I heard this remix. (sorry that's such a small clip, if you want the longer version, I could manage an email)
choice lyrics:
"You figure it's the love that keeps you warm
Let this moment be forever
We won't ever feel the storm
I ain't no vision, I'm the girl
Who loves you inside and out
Backwards and forwards with my heart hanging out
I love no other way
What are we gonna do if we lose that fire?"
I figure natural imagery is always a good thing.
2. The Magnetic Fields "Love is Like a Bottle of Gin"
Can I first just say how much I LOVE the video of that on youtube? Also, I will remark on how it is fairly difficult to pick a favorite love song by the MFs since they have a 3 disc album called 69 Love Songs. But that one has kinda always been my personal favorite . . . especially in the olden days when gin was my favorite drink.
Lyrics:
You can find it on the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
3. The Beatles "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away"
I know some people would have probably gone with that nauseating song "Love is all you need" or some crap like that, but this is a better song. period. It's brief and also kind of sadly true. But still somehow hopeful. To me anyway. It's been hard to break myself out of this mindset.
Lyrics:
How could she say to me
Love will find a way
Gather round all you clowns
Let me hear you say
Hey you've got to hide your love away
4. Edith Piaf "Tu es partout"
Once again, it's hard to pick a particular song from EP, all of her love songs are so good and so heartbreaking. This one is especially so for me. It's the song from Saving Private Ryan, incidentally. The youtube of this has all of the French lyrics so if you speak a little bit, you can interpret it pretty well. It basically tells the story of a woman who's lover left her and she still imagines that she sees him all the time and still wants a future together.
some lyrics in English:
"Maybe one day you will return
I know that my heart waits for you
You can not forget
The past days we spent together
My eyes never stop searching for you
Listen well, my heart calls you
We can love each other again
And you'll see life would be beautiful"
Le Sigh
5. Jose Gonzalez "Heartbeats"
This song is so achingly beautiful. I love that video too. I know people might disagree with me, but I love that version SO MUCH MORE than the original by the Knife. I realized that a lot of my songs were sad, and even though this one is sad in its own way, it's also so gorgeous.
Lyrics:
And you, you knew the hand of the devil
And you, kept us awake with wolves teeth
Sharing different heartbeats
In one night
Alrighty kids, your turn!
Usually, I'm not too big on this holiday, but for the first time ever, I actually have a boyfriend. The fact that he's a few thousand miles away is unimportant. I still plan to enjoy a singles awareness party with some hens and one wayward rooster.
So, I'm going to engage in some thievery right now. Facebook thievery. I saw some posts by a girl that Tino is a good friend of, she and some girls that blog together (sound familiar?) are putting up their 5 favorite love songs each to make a V-day mixtape. I thought we might do the same. List 5 songs, not necessarily happy, "I love you so much you can fart in my face" types of songs, but anything that you feel is a good message of love. Whether it's friendship, romantic, love gone wrong, unrequited, etc. I'm proposing we continue to do it until everyone who still actually contributes puts a list up, aka, we'll not just limit it to today. Besides, most of my love will be felt when I go buy candy for 50% off tomorrow at Kroger.
I'll start!
1. Feist "Inside and Out"
It may be hard to get over the 70s/Bee Gees sound of this song. Ironically, I wrote that before I looked it up and realized it actually is a cover of a Bee Gees song. I actually didn't pay much attention to it until I heard this remix. (sorry that's such a small clip, if you want the longer version, I could manage an email)
choice lyrics:
"You figure it's the love that keeps you warm
Let this moment be forever
We won't ever feel the storm
I ain't no vision, I'm the girl
Who loves you inside and out
Backwards and forwards with my heart hanging out
I love no other way
What are we gonna do if we lose that fire?"
I figure natural imagery is always a good thing.
2. The Magnetic Fields "Love is Like a Bottle of Gin"
Can I first just say how much I LOVE the video of that on youtube? Also, I will remark on how it is fairly difficult to pick a favorite love song by the MFs since they have a 3 disc album called 69 Love Songs. But that one has kinda always been my personal favorite . . . especially in the olden days when gin was my favorite drink.
Lyrics:
You can find it on the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
3. The Beatles "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away"
I know some people would have probably gone with that nauseating song "Love is all you need" or some crap like that, but this is a better song. period. It's brief and also kind of sadly true. But still somehow hopeful. To me anyway. It's been hard to break myself out of this mindset.
Lyrics:
How could she say to me
Love will find a way
Gather round all you clowns
Let me hear you say
Hey you've got to hide your love away
4. Edith Piaf "Tu es partout"
Once again, it's hard to pick a particular song from EP, all of her love songs are so good and so heartbreaking. This one is especially so for me. It's the song from Saving Private Ryan, incidentally. The youtube of this has all of the French lyrics so if you speak a little bit, you can interpret it pretty well. It basically tells the story of a woman who's lover left her and she still imagines that she sees him all the time and still wants a future together.
some lyrics in English:
"Maybe one day you will return
I know that my heart waits for you
You can not forget
The past days we spent together
My eyes never stop searching for you
Listen well, my heart calls you
We can love each other again
And you'll see life would be beautiful"
Le Sigh
5. Jose Gonzalez "Heartbeats"
This song is so achingly beautiful. I love that video too. I know people might disagree with me, but I love that version SO MUCH MORE than the original by the Knife. I realized that a lot of my songs were sad, and even though this one is sad in its own way, it's also so gorgeous.
Lyrics:
And you, you knew the hand of the devil
And you, kept us awake with wolves teeth
Sharing different heartbeats
In one night
Alrighty kids, your turn!
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