Maenad of the moment.

Maenad of the moment.
“Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance.” - Anne Sexton

Saturday, February 6, 2010

I don't have anything right now...

so have a glass of wine and listen to this!

Sunday, January 3, 2010

On the eve of my 40th birthday

I give you - in no particular order and appearing in different places in my (almost) forty years on this earth-

chick songs.

1. Brass in Pocket, the Pretenders

Now this song can have many interpretations, but it is oh-so-sexy. ;)

Plus, well, Chrissie is just ohmygodhot.

2. You Ought to Know, Alanis Morrisette

The ultimate fuck you song to an ex. I love her anger in this. I always have. We've all felt this way at one time or another.

3. Stupid Girl, Garbage

Self-explanatory. Plus - Shirley Manson. Yum.

4. Just a Girl, No Doubt

Again, no explanation needed.

5. Opheliac, Emilie Autumn.

There are a few by her that fit, but this is my personal fav.

6. Respect, Aretha Franklin

The queen in her best role. "I'll give you everything but you better give me some respect."

7. Irreplaceable, Beyonce

Come on ladies, sing it with me -- "To the left, to the left. Everything you own is in a box to the left."

8. Extraordinary, Liz Phair

"I am just your ordinary average everyday sane psycho."

9. I feel like fucking, Binkini Kill

Just cuz my world, sweet sister
Is so fucking goddamn full of rape
Does that mean
My body must always be a source of pain?
No, no, no

Enough said on that.

10. Dry, PJ Harvey

"You leave me dry." Harsh. Bet the person she wrote this about wishes it had ended differently. Hee!

11. Winter, Tori Amos

No girl song list is complete without a song to your daddy. This one is probably the best song I've ever heard about a daddy/daughter relationship. Everytime I hear it, I cry. I miss you daddy.

"He says - When you gonna make up your mind? When you gonna love you as much as I do? When you gonna make up your mind because things are gonna change so fast."

12. Are you strong enough to be my man, Sheryl Crow

A mature song. We likes mature songs.

12. Path of Thorns (Terms), Sarah McLachlen

Great end of a relationship song.

"Through the years I've grown to love you
Though your commitment to most would offend
But I stuck by you holding on with my foolish pride
Waiting for you to give in...
You never really tried or so it seems
I've had more than myself to blame
I've had enough of trying everything
And this time it is the end..."

13. Cherry Bomb, The Runaways

Probably don't need to explain this one either.

14. Never Say Never, Romeo Void

"I might like you better if we slept together".

15. Don't let me get me, Pink.

Yay Pink!

15. Beautiful, Christina Aguilera

Not normally a Christina fan, but this song is so meaningful.

16. You love me, Kimya Dawson

This could be the story of my life. :)

17. I do, Lisa Loeb

What a break up song. This one is definitely dedicated to an ex-husband who will remain nameless.

18. Torn, Natalie Imbruglia

Beautiful words.

19. Sleep to Dream, Fiona Apple

"You say love is a hell you cannot bare and I say give me mine back and go there, for all I care."

20. No Scrubs, TLC

My theme song for a long time :)

No, I don't want your number.
No, I don't want to give you mine.
And no, I don't want to meet you nowhere
Don't want none of your time.

If you don't have a car and you're walking
Oh yes son, I'm talking to you.
If you live at home with your mama
Oh yes son, I'm talking to you.
If you have a shorty that you don't show loving
Oh yes son, I'm talking to you.

21. What a man, Salt n Pepa with En Vogue

And then there was this one...

"I finally found somebody that can make me laugh.
You so crazy, I wanna have your babies."



Tuesday, December 22, 2009

And you meant it...

Mornings like this, when everything seems to be upside down and inside out, serve to remind me of why we have lasted.
An alarm clock that doesn’t go off
A sick puppy
A crying child with a hairbrush stuck in her hair and one sock on her foot
A teenager that seems to wake up each morning possessed by Satan himself

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, mascara smeared all over my face, hair looking like a very bad eighties wig, wearing mismatched socks, one of your t-shirts and nothing else while trying to move herds of children and various house pets in the right direction. I was frowning. I could see every line, every imperfection, and every sign of age staring back at me.

If I didn’t have you, I might have gotten depressed. Instead, at that exact moment, you walked by – laughed- and said; “Morning beautiful.”

And you meant it.

For my Rah at 13

Sometimes at night I creep into your bedroom to memorize your face when it is quiet in sleep. You don’t know I’m there and I never tell you about my covert night travels. If I did, it would horrify you to think that your mother sneaks into your private space just to reassure herself that you actually do have some sort of peace.
You are so beautiful to me. Each tiny crease in your skin, the smell of your body that hasn’t changed in all these years of growing, as familiar to me as the scent of my own body. I put wings on a part of my heart and trusted it to fly when I set you free into this world.

Yet, I watch you struggle with your own personal demons. Your anger, your aggression and your all consuming drive are facets of you that both irritate and amaze. It is not that I lack pride in all of your accomplishments. Talent is not something you are left wanting. It is that I fear for you, that you are missing out on the simple joys of being young.

You have never been given over to casual living. Your wit is stunning and quick. You live your life determined. Our relationship was never an easy one and as you grow, I find myself searching for ways back to you.

When you surprise me with a spontaneous outburst of silliness or a girlish giggle, I am reminded that you are only thirteen years old. I find myself smiling secretly to myself as if I’ve discovered some rare gem and I’ve decided to keep it without alerting the owner. Your precious laugh is a rarity today.

There are times, after a particularly rough patch, when I’m left thinking I’ve lost you to some greater God than mom that I hold onto your baby blanket. When I press it to my face and inhale the sweet baby scent that I am positive still lingers there, I’m comforted.

Oh, I know that all mothers go through this. It doesn’t make my sense of loss any less, nor does it make my emotions run slower.

I realize that some day soon I will need to let you free of my desires to tether, but please, allow me a few more years. Not for you, my treasured daughter, but for me.

Another old bit of a thing - This little combination of vowels and consonants

Late at night, I have the time to wander through my own thoughts. The children are sleeping, you are curled in your ludicrously expensive, high thread count sheets (which I always find funny for a man as rugged as you) and the only company I keep is with the cat and the dogs. I should be sleeping. I will pay the price at the office in the morning while I try to focus during the conference call and all I can focus in on is the ludicrously expensive, high thread count sheets and the scent of your body, still lingering on the warm depression you left on your pillow.
I am a grateful woman tonight, for all that I have and some things that I don’t have. Life has not always been an easy ride for us. What others see is only a snapshot and not an exhibit. It is easy to speak of the good times. To share with others the love and happiness (Al Green anyone?) that we have in our lives. It is harder to put into words the struggles, the pain, the sorrow and the troubles.

I ran my hands over the gash in the wall that we have laughingly patched just yesterday morning. The times when our tempers flared and gave us good reason to question why we continue to stick. The words said in the darkest moments of our relationship that are like ghosts that come back to haunt at the worst possible time. The disagreements, the arguments and the all out, nothing held back fights behind closed doors are not our best moments to present to the world.

I look around the room at the framed pictures of our little butterflies. I laugh to myself when I remember that lately I’ve had to carry a picture of our oldest when she was younger to remember why I love her so much. Nobody ever told us it would be easy, fulfilling, yes, but never easy.

It seems that life runs faster than I’ve ever been able to, meetings, travel, and all the mundane things that make up our life. There are bills to pay, ballet lessons, never enough time to sit through that recital practice or show up for the last concert of the year. Disappointment is not unknown to us.

I think, sometimes, when I’m in my late night reverie that it is the hard times that sink in and make the happy times so much more meaningful. When I lay next to you in bed and trace out the new creases on your forehead, touch my fingers to the grey that is starting to overtake the dark brown, I start to realize how far we’ve come down this path that is our life.

It seems whenever I do sit down to write it is always about you and the children. It makes me smile because you are so large in my life. You and our babies take up all the good stuff …and leave little room for the bad.

When it is quiet and you’re all dreaming the hours away, I can remember each step along the path we’ve walked. I remember those days, so long ago when we could sleep as late as we wanted on Saturday mornings, ignoring the clang of the phone. The weekends when we would make love all day and then come back for more that night are very infrequent these days. It is hard to make time for that intimacy with a houseful of teenagers and the young one who need our constant presence in their lives.

But I remember …and those stolen nights with no children around to look after …they are more than memories, they are real, tangible, the taste of them lingers in my mouth for days after.

This letter to you, this little combination of vowels and consonants …it is my vow to always remember. When we are old and our grandchildren are sitting around us, I want you to look at me and remember this path we’ve walked. The sweet and the sour, the days of love making and the days where we were too tired to even think of it. I want you to remember that girl you fell in love with and the woman you fell in friendship with. And I want you to hold my hand until the end.

I want to remember our life like we are reading a novel …chapter by sweet chapter …until we come to the end. Together.

Something I wrote awhile back - A birthday present

I was cleaning out the storage pantry in the garage. There was some sort of odd peace in doing that. Alone in the room full of shelves, going through old dishes and canning supplies. Giving them order.

It was the day before your birthday. I was feeling that blunt edge of mourning, that kind that happens after you are over the initial shock but it instead of cutting you quickly, it lingers and takes its time. Your first birthday in my life where I wouldn't hear your laughter, or that teasing way you opened presents so slowly that the kids would shout at you to hurry up so they could eat ice cream cake. I wouldn't kiss your stubbly cheek and inhale that scent that was so uniquely you, a mixture of wood and Old Spice and the fresh scent of masculinity that I grew up with.

I wouldn't be able to look in your green, green eyes and tell you thank you, I love you, you're the best Daddy a girl could ever hope for.

I wasn't going to have you this year. All the other milestones I've already made it past seemed to somehow pale in comparison to your birthday. I suppose, in retrospect, it is because this was the one day of the year that was solely yours. You didn't share it with all the other fathers of the world. It was just for you, Dad.

The tears started rolling. Freed by the lack of little eyes watching my face, freed from the feeling that I had to be strong for anyone. I missed you so much in that minute that the pain seemed overwhelming.

Shaking my head, I lifted the box of canning jars to move them to their new home. Underneath the box I noticed something sticking out. A card...and so I picked it up.
It was a birthday card. From me to you, Dad. One I'd written to you when I was 24 years old, full of laughter and praises for my cowboy. My pops.

Of all the places in the world to find a card that old the day before your birthday, you found a way to put it in my path. To remind me that you'd had so many wonderful birthdays walking this earth.

To remind me... you're still here.

You gave me a gift for your birthday this year, Daddy. One I will always remember.
I set it on the little altar I made for you next to the picture of you smiling in your cowboy hat.

I love you Daddy. And I miss you so very much.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Funny things my husband says -

"I like to treat my dogs like they are my marines. 'You there, get your ass down there. Orderly you fucks! What do you think this is a dance party?'."


Daughter: Dad, can I get the computer?
Husband: Yeah in a minute.
Daughter: Dad!
Husband: You've got all night.
Daughter: It's 10:45 dad. The night is almost over.
Husband: Yeah well it's not night in Australia yet so buck up little cowgirl.


Husband to daughter in our bedroom: I'm going to bed. Out!
Daughter: But I'm talking to mom!
Husband: Yeah? And I'm undressing so unless you want the image of me naked burning your retinas get out.


Me to husband on crying teenage daughters: What's going on? What happened!
Husband: I don't know.
Me: What do you mean you don't know?
Husband: No habla woman language. No speaka the chick talk. Maybe we can fit them with translators?


Husband to me after finding out, to my horror, that my family has been shocking themselves with a dog shock collar:

You should try it. It hurts! We've all done it.


On his birthday, standing in the middle of the living room while loudly proclaiming to us all:

It's my birthday. I can lecture all I want and you all have to sit there and take it. Birthday rule.