A Rush & A Push

Delilah

2007-02-16T11:40:00.000-08:00

There's no end to the love you can give
When you change your point of view to underfoot
Very good
You may be flat but you're breathing
And there's no doubt he's at home in his room
Probably watching porn of you from the fall
It's last call
And you're the last one leaving
And you thought you could change the world
By opening your legs
Well it isn't very hard
Try kicking them instead
And you thought you could change his mind
By changing your perfume to the kind his mother wore
Oh god, Delilah, why?
I never met a more impossible girl...
In this same bar where you slammed down your hand
And said "Amanda, I'm in love"
No, you're not
You're just a sucker for the ones who use you
And it doesn't matter what I say or do
The stupid bastard's gonna have his way with you...
You're an unrescuable schizo
Or else you're on the rag
If you take him back
I'm gonna lose my nerve
I never met a more impossible girl...
I never met a more impossible girl...
At four o'clock he got off
And you called up
"I'm down at Denny's on Route One and you won't guess what he's done"
Is that a fact, Delilah?
Larry Tapp let you in through the back
And use his calling card again
For a quick hand of gin
You are impossible, Delilah: the princess of denial
And after 7 years in advertising
You are none the wiser
You're an unrescuable schizo
Or else you're on the rag
And if you take him back
I'm gonna lose my nerve
He's gonna beat you like a pillow
You schizos never learn
And if you take him home
You'll get what you deserve
I never met a more impossible girl
So don't cry, Delilah
You're still alive, Delilah
You need a ride, Delilah?
Let's see how fast this thing can go...

-amanda palmer, the dresden dolls

Unanswered.

2007-01-17T12:41:00.000-08:00

At what point does the grass on the other side stop seeming so much greener?
At what point do I start becoming content with what I have?
At what point do I stop settling for less than what I really want?
At what point does emotion stop and rationalization come in?
At what point does "good enough" become "selling myself short?"
At what point do I stop falling in love with the people around me?
At what point does life stop being perceived as drama and start being satirical comedy?
At what point does hedonism go too far?
At what point do I start being honest with myself and with others?
At what point do I give up on dreams?
At what point will I stop being afraid?
At what point do I grow up?
At what point do I stop?

The Perfect Fit

2006-11-30T13:31:00.000-08:00

I could make a dress, a robe fit for a prince
I could clothe a continent, but I can't sew a stitch
I can paint my face, and stand very, very still
It's not very practical, but it still pays the bills
I can't change my name, but I could be your type
I can dance and win at games like Backgammon and Life

I used to be the smart one, sharp as a tack
Funny that how skipping years ahead has held me back
I used to be the bright one, top in my class
Funny what they give you when you just learn how to ask

I can write a song, but I can't sing in key
I can play piano, but I never learned to read
I can't trap a mouse, but I can pet a cat
No, I'm really serious - I'm really very good at that
I can't fix a car, but I can fix a flat
I could fix a lot of things, but I'd rather not get into that

I used to be the bright one, smart as a whip
Funny how you slip so far when teachers don't keep track of it
I used to be the tight one, the perfect fit
Funny how those compliments can make you feel so full of it

I can shuffle cut and deal, but I can't draw a hand
I can't draw a lot of things, I hope you understand
I'm not exceptionally shy, but I've never had a man
That I could look straight in the eye and tell my secret plans
I can take a vow, and I can wear a ring
And I can make you promises but they won't mean a thing

Can't you do it for me? I'll pay you well
Fuck, I'll pay you anything if you could end this
Can't you just fix it for me? It's gone berserk
Oh, fuck! I'll give you anything if you can make the damn thing work
Can't you just fix it for me? I'll pay you well
Oh, fuck! I'll pay you anything if you could end this hell
I love you will you tell me your name?
Hello, I'm good for nothing
Will you love me just the same?
The same...

-Amanda Palmer, the Dresden Dolls-

I Want.

2006-11-13T13:25:00.000-08:00

I.
I want one day in which you are not bitching, moaning, complaining, or aching. I want you to sound happy when I call you. I want you to be happy to see me when we come home at the end of the day. I want you to not spend all of your time holed-up. I want to go places and do things with you. I want to see you smile again, and not just at something funny that Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert says. I want to feel better about the choices I have made that forever tie me to you. I want to feel better about resigning myself to this life. I want to see love towards me in your eyes again. I want you to want me again.

II.
I want to provide you all the love, support, security, comfort, safety, magic, wonder, and happiness I can possibly muster. I want to know that some day, all my forcing you to take a vitamin, wear warm clothing, brush your teeth, not play on the bunkbed ladder, read every night, not sit so close to the television, and not drink the bathwater will pay off. I want to relish the time I have with you that I will miss so much when you are an angsty teenager. I want to be here and there for you. I want to see the world through your eyes. I want to see myself through your eyes.

III.
I want to never forget who I used to be. I want to play instruments again. I want to keep learning, all the time. I want to be a good cook. I want to learn to knit. I want to read as many books as I possibly can. I want to feel not so boring. I want to grow my hair out. I want to take up yoga. I want to be better at growing plants. I want to be more patient. I want to control my anger. I want to be organized. I want to cut the people out of my life that don't do me any good. I want to cherish my true friends. I want to spend time with my family. I want to be closer to my mother. I want to do more crossword puzzles. I want to be happy with myself.

"Millennium Theater" by Ani DiFranco

2006-08-05T11:01:00.000-07:00

millennium theater
get out there and buy that water and gas
ramadan, orange alert
everybody put on your gas mask

first, leak it out about the president
then stand up and shout, "IMPEACHMENT!"
pull the coattails out from under their little VP
before he has a chance to get in the driver's seat

millennium spectacle
everybody put on a show
slip the little prince in the back door
21st century here we go
digital whiplash
so many formats, so little time
while out in TV nation
under darkening skies
the resistance is just waiting to be organized...

halliburton, enron
chief justices for sale
yucca mountain goddesses
their tears they form a trail
trickle-down pollution
patriarchies realigned
while the ice caps melt down
new orleans bides her time
new orleans bides her time

ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's show
the millennium theater asks that you not smoke
please turn off your cell phones
and forget what you think you know...

I Am Happy When I...

2006-08-03T12:17:00.000-07:00

Clean up my cubicle. Cook a good meal. Receive compliments on a meal. Drink good coffee. Make a new friend. Pet a cat. See penguins. Organize a calendar. Listen to Ani DiFranco. Listen to the Ditty Bops. Feel like I've accomplished another tick under the "good mom" tally I constantly run on myself. Think about something serious without getting upset. See the Daughter completely spellbound by Yellow Submarine. Listen to vinyl records. Paint my nails without smudging them. Put a decent outfit together. Get a lot of work done. See the artwork the Daughter makes at school. Take a good picture. Make a stranger happy. See baby pictures of the Man. Fall into bed after a long day. Pluck my eyebrows. Eat a bowl of cereal. Use big words properly. Finish a book that doesn't make me cry at the end. Get praise from my parents. Play the piano. Listen to NPR. See that Dubya's approval ratings continue to fall. Take a vitamin. Read a "family" magazine and get good ideas. Go to the tanning bed. Go to the gym. Make a list. Have a well-stocked pantry. Reminisce. Buy new clothes. Pull weeds in my garden. Find stray shopping lists at the grocery. Get told that I don't sound like I'm from the Midwest. Change the month on the calendar. Make resolutions. Read the blogs of other moms. Spend time with my friends who are in healthy, functioning relationships and have kids, because it makes me feel more normal. Feel normal. Can let go and be spontaneous. Find good pieces of the past. Get invited out to lunch. Buy new ink pens or sharpie markers. Start a new notebook. Work on my Target online wedding registry. Blog. Can go outside and not sweat. Listen to the Postal Service. Wear sparkly eyeshadow. Leave the house in the morning without feeling like the sky is going to just come crashing down around me. Get mail. Get email. Buy perfume. Receive attention from my younger, prettier, more hip little sister. Am told that the Man and I make a lovely couple. Remember my grandmother. Wake up in the morning not feeling like a zombie. Ride a bicycle. Find a good buy at a thrift store. Clean up clutter and junk. Listen to Dave Brubeck. Manage to finagle my bank account so that I don't go into the negative before I get paid. Switch purses. Clean out my car. Feel like I'm accomplishing something in my life.

A House in the Sun

2006-07-27T05:46:00.000-07:00

Vertebrae run up
Your back like stairs
You are pretty and skinny
And ribbed like a cat,
With almond eyes to match.
We stand outside your house in the sun
And I hide my face in dark glasses.
You grasp my hand and point to the left
“È questo senso,” you say to me
And I don’t know what that means.
“Venuto con mi, cara mia,”
And I don’t know what that means, either.
I didn’t know you spoke Italian.
But I follow you without argument
Because you are beautiful and this is a dream
And we’re racing hand in hand down a street
Filled with dust and sunshine.
The leathery faces of the local peddlers
Watch us in puzzled amusement
Two crazy girls, due ragazze pazzesche
One with cat eyes and skin like butter,
The other one, me.
But I run without argument
Because the day is beautiful, and this is a dream
It is a postcard; it is a move still,
It is a commercial for diamond rings and wine
Your hand in mine feels smooth and cool as water
And I see you in a sort of slow-motion haze
The light filtering through the tangled ropes of your hair
Your wide mouth opening and closing in laughter
And you dart like a fish to the side,
To an alley dark and full of birds
And we’re going up, up, up
Stairs made of stone
Going up, up, up,
Like the vertebrae
Of your back.

I Am Giving Myself Advice

2006-07-12T12:12:00.000-07:00

For a project on Learning To Love You More...

Advice to myself at age 8:
1. Take the time now to remember everything you can about Mamaw.

Advice to myself at age 10:
1. It's time for a bra. Beg your mom to go buy you one.
2. DO NOT play basketball. Seriously. I know Dad wants you to, but a very embarassing and painful thing will happen during your first practice, so just don't do it.
3. There is a very important word you will need to know how to spell, and very soon. That word is moraine - remember that spelling - m-o-r-a-i-n-e.

Advice to myself at age 12:
1. It is okay to fall in love with girls who are beautiful and artistic and smart and spend the night with you and leave your pillow smelling like Herbal Essence. Don't feel weird or guilty for it.
2. Sam is not worth your pining away. Get over him.
3. Give up on the guitar. You'll never get the finger positions right.
4. Boys are going to tease you now, but in just a couple years, you'll be totally hot, and it will all be worth it.

Advice to myself at age 16:
1. Your "best friend" Jennifer is not your friend. She is generally a waste of time. I know you two have been together for a long time, but trust me on this one. She is a parasite and only uses you out of convenience. Invest more time in Heather and Beth, because they really love you.
2. Get more drunk on New Year's. Your parents are never going to find out.
3. It's okay to break up with Travis, but please please please do NOT have sex with John. It's only going to last thirty seconds, and it will be a total letdown.
4. Get over your funk and enjoy your vacation to New England more.
5. I know you hate Mrs. Warren, I agree, she's a total bitch. But get past it and do NOT flunk out of algebra. You'll have to retake it and she'll still be your teacher, so just get it right the first time.
6. You are not fat.
7. Don't get your navel pierced. This fad will fade quickly.

Advice to myself at age 17:
1. Brandon is sweet and nice and good in the sack, I know. But he is a total pothead loser, and no, you aren't going to marry him. If you'd just break up with him now and stay single the rest of the year, you'll be much better off.
2. This is the last year your Papaw R. is going to be around. Although he is a Republican and has staunch conservatist views on the world, he's been through a lot, so spend some more time with him.
3. Germany is exciting and your tour guide is gorgeous, but don't break your curfew. Don't do it.
4. Don't get your nails done for prom. That shit is way to hard to get rid of.
5. DO NOT BLOW ALL YOUR GRADUATION MONEY ON STUPID SHIT!
6. Your parents are not nearly as lame as you think.
7. Okay, here's the big one. Ben might seem mysterious and deep and spiritual and very interesting, but let me sum it up for you: he is a twentysomething with no car, no job, no money, weird religious fixations, an unreliable family, and a fetish for cartoon porn. This is the turning point upon which the rest of your life hinges. Do you want an ex-husband, a kid, no real college experience, and a job at which you are very good, but underpaid and pretty much scraping by forever? Or do you want to go to art school and end up living in Seattle/New York/San Francisco/Chicago/Paris/Reykjavik/Boston/Dresden/Venice/Tokyo? There are pros and cons to both - choose wisely, love.

There will be times when it feels like the world is ending, and there will be times when you feel like you're on top of it all. Neither is true. The bad times will be over soon enough, as will the good, so live it up and remember:

You will never live if you are looking

for the meaning of life.

-albert camus-

I Am Taking Small Steps To Being Happier and Healthier

2006-06-28T10:44:00.000-07:00

It's been said often that physical and emotional health are linked. Physical activity releases endorphins, which, according to Wikipedia, are: "endogenous opioid biochemical compounds. They are peptides produced by the pituitary gland and the hypothalamusin vertebrates, and they resemble the opiates in their abilities to produce analgesia and a sense of well-being. In other words, they might work as natural pain killers."

Sex aside, I have always hated physical activity. I was never much for sports or being outside in the heat or overexerting myself. But over the last year or so, I've really become aware of exactly how sedentary of a life I lead, and I've decided to change that.

I have joined a gym. Surprisingly, I like it. I like going. I've been walking briskly on the treadmill, doing hills. I've been doing rounds on the weight machines. I'm stronger than I thought I'd be. And I can already tell a difference, and I've only been going for a short time.

I'm also attempting to drink protein shakes for breakfast and eat smaller, but more frequent, meals throughout the day. I'm drinking more water, too.

We'll see how this all goes.

I Want To Be Everyone But Myself

2006-06-28T10:04:00.000-07:00

I've heard this said about people before, and I've identified it myself in others before.

But I never considered that I might be like this.

I think it's because I can't wear just one label. And I don't like the concept of labelling people, but adjectives are so abundant that it's hard to get away from. There are also people who don't mind wearing labels, who relish it, who do everything they can to fall into the category they have either resigned themself to or been put into by others.

It started in high school. Jocks, nerds, goths, preps, artsy-types... I was never able to be put into one of those categories. I had friends who were in all of those groups, but I personally didn't belong to any. In fact, I felt more like all of them at once. I had my days.

And now that I'm an adult, this labelling-business doesn't really go away. It's especially prevalent with the younger mother set. There are the hip, trendy mommas who always look hot, who, if it weren't for the SUV, dog, and three kids, would fit right back in with their childless peers. There are the rock 'n' roll mommas, with tattoos and Chuck Taylors, who give their children mohawks and take them to their first concert the instant they can sit-up on their own. There are the sensitive intellectual earthy mommas who feed their children only organic products and carry their wee ones around in a papoose until they begin kindergarten, at which point, they favor homeschooling over the public system anyway.

I don't belong to any of these groups. I feel like I belong to all of them and none of them at the same time. I let my daughter(s) listen to Kiss, drink chocolate soymilk, play soccer, watch The Family Guy. I think I look good for a mom, but I feel older than other people my age, which makes me in turn run with a different age group of peers, which in turn gives me a different perspective.

I know I should love and embrace it, but sometimes being eclectic is weird and a little lonely.

I Am Trying

2006-03-30T08:57:00.000-08:00

I am trying to be a better parent. As the mother of a relatively difficult two-and-a-half year old little girl, this isn't easy. At the same time I've been trying to raise her, I've been trying to raise myself, too.

When she was born, I was nineteen. I was in a failing marriage with a ridiculous man. I moved into my own apartment with Daughter when she was only three months old. It was an amazing, happy day for me - it was like moving into freedom. I was truly on my own for the first time in my life, without ExHusband and without Parents. I was trying to find myself. I knew I couldn't go back to who I was prior to ExHusband, and it was as terrifically frightening as it was exhilarating. But the catch was that I had this tiny baby to take care of, too. And since then, I've been trying to balance everything. Balancing my time for me, balancing my time for her, eventually balancing my time with Boyfriend, and balancing time for Everyone Else.

I'd like to think that as far as most single mothers go, I've been doing fairly well. I've seen endless examples of what not to do... I lived in an area where most of the births were to single, teenaged mothers. My once-best friend was a single mother herself. I didn't want to be jobless and shoeless and mindless and helpless and hopeless. I've always worked, always made sure we were taken care of, but there's more to it than that, you know?

The ExHusband and I have been going through a seemingly endless custody and visitation battle since I moved out. At first, we had her on a bit of a wonky schedule, where he got her on Wednesday evenings and had her until Saturday morning, and I picked up the rest of the time. This worked well until I moved an hour away. He didn't like that and insisted I drive her to him and drive back to pick her up. I did this (reluctantly) for over a year until I had had enough. I put Daughter in a very good daycare that she really loves. This particular daycare didn't offer part-time attendance, so I really wanted to change the schedule. Not to mention the schedule would need to be changed once she started going to preschool, so combine this with the excessive driving and his inability to pay child support on time, and we went back to court. I came out victorious - full custody, a weekly schedule (I have her Sunday evening through Friday evening), child support withheld from his wages.

So now the schedule is much better. But what is unfortunate about it is that while I have her the bulk of the time, I feel like I don't get to do much with her. We have the evenings, but by the time I get us home, I'm so tired. I'm trying to change this, though. I am trying. Now that the weather is starting to get better, we'll be more able to go outside and play. Once we get the new house, it will also be much easier to play outside.

I also have things I, as a person, need to work on. I need to work on my patience. Because she and I are both so young (ha), I have a tendency to lose patience with her. This isn't productive. Also, I need to work on some other things that probably won't be very pleasant... I want to break her of using her pacifier. I'm really starting to worry about how her teeth may end up. I also want to conquer potty-training. She does well at daycare, and I'm trying to work on it at home, but I also need her dad to cooperate with me, too. He won't really try to get her to use the potty when she's with him. He thinks she's not ready, but she really is.

Anyway. So I am trying to be a better parent. Here is what I want to work on:

Spending more time with daughter and/or Making better use of what time we do have.

Being more patient.

Better disciplining Daughter in regards to breaking the pacifier habit and working on potty-training.

I Am Mad

2006-03-14T09:35:00.000-08:00

I AM MAD AT YOU

part 1.
I am mad at you because you tend to keep me "out of the loop" about things. I don't know if you just "forget" to tell me, I don't know if you just don't want me to know, but it's fucking annoying. Especially now that I tend to tell you everything. I am mad at you because I can be. I am mad at you because I still don't know if I can trust you. Believe me, dear I want to trust you. I want to think, "Oh, it's all right, he's not going to try to 'get me back' for being untrustworthy at one point, especially because he said that the past is in the past, blah blah blah, no, I should be able to trust him because he says I can. What would he do? He doesn't have the time to do anything bad, blah blah blah." Well I don't really believe that. It's absolutely possible to have one person think they know where you are at all times of the day and yet still be carrying on under a completely different set of circumstances. Perhaps I am being irrational and obviously I still have issues with this whole "trust" thing, but that is the entire purpose of writing about it. Maybe it will make me feel better. I just don't know if I can trust you yet or not. Especially since you still -and worse, secretly- keep your ties to her. Yes, her, the big, all-important her. I have been wary of her since day one, since you conveniently "forgot" to tell me that she was back in town after living in California for two fucking years and you weren't answering my calls because you were spending time with her. It doesn't make for a handy first impression, I'll tell you that. You can tell me that I'm perfect and you love me and I'm the one you want all to be damned, but I'll know when I can believe it and I just can't yet. I just can't when you're still holding on to her... and especially when you claim that it's just holding on to a point in your life. I do not believe that. So I am mad at you. I am mad because I am afraid and I am afraid of getting duped. Of having the wool pulled over my eyes. And you, my dear, are a master of this, so it makes my fear all the more prevalent. So I AM MAD AT YOU because it's only small things now. And that's how it starts. And I honestly do not want our relationship to fall apart because I do love you so very much. I don't want to be a nag or a jealous girlfriend. I just want to be able to feel safe. That's all...

part 2.
I am mad at you because, most likely, I am semi-subconsciously jealous of you. Jealous of you because you have the education, you have the experience, and I don't. Yet. I don't like the way you make me feel paranoid all the time, like you're watching over my shoulder. I don't like the way that you make me feel like I'm being judged all the time. God, this sounds even crazier when I write it down. You attempt to come off as such a nice, approachable person, but for some reason, when you're around, I just want to crawl beneath my desk and hide - which is saying a lot because it's absolutely filthy beneath my desk. I don't like the tone of voice you use when you're on the phone with someone regarding your "special projects." Of course I'm jealous of that - because I used to have special projects, too, but then you got wind of this and suddenly I don't anymore. I am simply suspicious of you. There is something in the atmosphere that changes when you are around and I do not like it.

part 3.
I am mad at you and I always will be. The list of reason why I am mad at you is practically infinite because you fucked up such an important time in my life. At the same time, I should be grateful because had you not fucked up that time, I wouldn't be who I am today. So I'll keep the list to a minimum and focus on the big complaints. You are lazy. You are irresponsible. You are impossible to deal with. You are narcissistic. You couldn't spell "narcissistic" without looking it up. You are uneducated. You are a hypocrite. You are NOT A FUCKING PROPHET. You are not that entertaining. You are unreliable. You are unrealistic. You are immature. You have horrible hygiene. You have issues with jealousy that will ruin every relationship that you are ever in. You will always have a subpar existence until YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. It was not my job to fix you or take care of you and fuck you for ever making me think that it was. You do not know what is best for our child, so please do not even attempt to persuade me into thinking that you do. You need to finish school, get a real job, attempt to take on some real adult responsibilities, and be able to take care of yourself before I'll even remotely consider believing that you may have an inkling about child-rearing. So please stop your fucking ceaseless complaining and just grow up.

I feel a bit better now.

It Isn't A Secret, Just Private

2006-03-13T12:15:00.000-08:00

Welcome to my personal blog. Actually, no, if you've found your way to this blog, you should leave because it's personal. But public. Wait, I've fucked this up already.

Let me start over.

This is, indeed, a blog. Blogs are available to be read by the public, which automatically makes them not private. But for someone like me, who is too lazy to actually write in a real diary, it's convenient. Having private thoughts read by the public is a risk I will just have to take.

Oh, and Scott? Don't worry, I'm not keeping anything from you - I'm just attempting to organize the thoughts that rattle around my head all day long. I'll be easier to deal with if I can just get them out and about, you know?