Shit! 1 week, that's all I've got. Not even. In 5 days I'll no longer be a teenager.
Shit, shit, shit, shit. Where did all my time go?
I miss my best friend.
Labels: I need a birthday dress, Maria
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Shit! 1 week, that's all I've got. Not even. In 5 days I'll no longer be a teenager.
Shit, shit, shit, shit. Where did all my time go?
I miss my best friend.
posted by Songs of Love at 2:22 AM
You are the love of my life, be here now.
- Be Here Now by Mason Jennings
I have so much to catch up on with school and I did the typical J choice, I went to a concert instead. Mason Jennings at the 40 Watt! Bain Mattox and his band opened and they were soo good, and then Mason came...
The venue had set up it's couches and tables in the center of the room, and everyone who wasn't there was just lining the room like curtains line a window. Then like fireflies in the darkness, two girls appeared at stage right. Flutter, flutter, three more at stage left. I grabbed K, my little sparrow, and we flew to the center, like moths who can't fight their attraction to the glowing light.
Mason Jennings isn't just good. He's not just folk music. Mason Jennings is not some guy from Minnesota with a few thoughts on his mind. Mason Jennings is a spiritual experience. He is kinder and more humble that any artist or band you've ever met, and yet he's genuine. He'll make hippies close their eyes and twirl in bliss. He makes young girls swoon with his sexy Minnesota accent. Hell, he makes Minnesota sound like it's the place to come from. Born on a railroad, grew up around the river, imagery to enlighten the blind.
Mason Jennings, live, is a new religion - like my first memory of Sunday school at the new church.
Today's love lesson: How to Get Yourself a Good Southern Girl/ When You Know He's a Keeper
(Southern, European, Chilean, Minnesotan - we'd all fall for this.)
Guys:
Step 1 : Find yourself a girl who likes really good music.
Step 2: Reintroduce the word 'swoon' to her vocabulary.
Step 3: Find a live version of Mason Jennings' last album.
Step 4: Play it in the car, in the kitchen, on the porch, in the bedroom.
Step 5: If she doesn't swoon, she doesn't have a spiritual bone in her body.
- Be Here Now by Mason Jennings
I have so much to catch up on with school and I did the typical J choice, I went to a concert instead. Mason Jennings at the 40 Watt! Bain Mattox and his band opened and they were soo good, and then Mason came...
The venue had set up it's couches and tables in the center of the room, and everyone who wasn't there was just lining the room like curtains line a window. Then like fireflies in the darkness, two girls appeared at stage right. Flutter, flutter, three more at stage left. I grabbed K, my little sparrow, and we flew to the center, like moths who can't fight their attraction to the glowing light.
Mason Jennings isn't just good. He's not just folk music. Mason Jennings is not some guy from Minnesota with a few thoughts on his mind. Mason Jennings is a spiritual experience. He is kinder and more humble that any artist or band you've ever met, and yet he's genuine. He'll make hippies close their eyes and twirl in bliss. He makes young girls swoon with his sexy Minnesota accent. Hell, he makes Minnesota sound like it's the place to come from. Born on a railroad, grew up around the river, imagery to enlighten the blind.
Mason Jennings, live, is a new religion - like my first memory of Sunday school at the new church.
Today's love lesson: How to Get Yourself a Good Southern Girl/ When You Know He's a Keeper
(Southern, European, Chilean, Minnesotan - we'd all fall for this.)
Guys:
Step 1 : Find yourself a girl who likes really good music.
Step 2: Reintroduce the word 'swoon' to her vocabulary.
Step 3: Find a live version of Mason Jennings' last album.
Step 4: Play it in the car, in the kitchen, on the porch, in the bedroom.
Step 5: If she doesn't swoon, she doesn't have a spiritual bone in her body.
Labels: folk, mason jennings, Minnesota, swoon
Sunday, September 28, 2008
I'm in the take back mood. When you feel you've said too much, and you think you sound utterly stupid. If you fight the temptation to delete the stupidity, you have the opportunity to learn from your mistakes. If you leave it, you risk painting a portrait of yourself you don't find too fitting.
Charlotte Sometimes makes me miss my dog.
Boys Don't Cry sounds like a lie.
Friday I'm In Love never holds true.
The Cure made a point that people don't go after what they want, when it comes down to who they want. I'm guilty of lacking that courage. I have it, deep inside where everyone hides it, but I rarely use it. I don't think it's just a fear of rejection, but a fear of not really wanting the idea you've created in your head. With love, you have to leave preconceived notions at the door and let your feelings blossom or shrivel on their own. When you want something badly enough, go after it.
The other side, because there's always another side:
You can't find love like you do a class to fit your schedule. Just because the description is appealing and the timing is fitting doesn't mean it's right for you.
When I hear The Cure I think of the most fitting book I've read, Love Is A Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield. That book is my bible, after the Bible.
Boys Don't Cry sounds like a lie.
Friday I'm In Love never holds true.
The Cure made a point that people don't go after what they want, when it comes down to who they want. I'm guilty of lacking that courage. I have it, deep inside where everyone hides it, but I rarely use it. I don't think it's just a fear of rejection, but a fear of not really wanting the idea you've created in your head. With love, you have to leave preconceived notions at the door and let your feelings blossom or shrivel on their own. When you want something badly enough, go after it.
The other side, because there's always another side:
You can't find love like you do a class to fit your schedule. Just because the description is appealing and the timing is fitting doesn't mean it's right for you.
When I hear The Cure I think of the most fitting book I've read, Love Is A Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield. That book is my bible, after the Bible.
The Cure's "Let's Go To Bed": ...when she gets depressed and asks, "Honey,
is this song about us?" the strategic answer is "Yes, but so is 'Just Like
Heaven'."
This blog is as new to me as it is to you. I have no preconceived notions about it; I hardly even know what I'm about to type. What I do know is that I love music and am constantly listening to anything and everything.
Okay, not everything.
It is rare for my music to not be on when I write, it's as much an inspiration as it is a necessity, like air. Often times it affects the mood of a piece so much that I write down the song names, the bands, the artists, and I attach it to my work in any way I can think of. So even though I'm not sure how long I'll keep up with this, I can guarantee you each post will have a band or a song linked to it.
Today it's the Cold War Kids. I've been obsessing over certain music lately so I decided I needed some variation. I scrolled down my iTunes, found a song that I loved in the C's, and just let my library take me from one band to the next.
Mulberry Street, to a Daytrotter Session, to Robbers & Cowards, my mood just evolved with every new song, each note, each lyric.
I knew I had some really awesome websites in my favorites that I had been to once but hadn't had the chance to truly explore. As part of my Sunday tradition, I went to Post Secret to read the new arrivals. They stirred my soul and put me in the mood for some good art. I scrolled my favorites and hit a blog. I'm not really sure how I originally ran across it, probably from facebook stalking. I don't really care because it is beautiful. The most recent post revolved around the experience the writer had from going to a website. From what I read, I knew that I had to go see the website. I went and I knew I had to go tell others about this website. The love, the talent, the purpose, was all too beautiful to not share.
http://www.dayswithmyfather.com/
Psychology has a theory that if you lose someone close to you, you may feel the need to live a fuller life. I'm taking Psychology of Adjustment and two kids in my class spoke up about two very tragic deaths of very close friends of theirs. They both had experienced this feeling, but they said it was momentary, and after a while they stopped trying.
I've been lucky enough to not have to suffer the pain of losing someone very close to me to death. That doesn't mean I can't sympathize how that feeling must feel like. By the time I left high school, I could count the number of dead classmates on two hands. I may not have lost someone close to me, but my friends did, over and over again. Every time I had to watch friends go through the same experience that my other friends had just gone through. Everyone was constantly on their knees.
So by some loop hole, I've become a subject to this theory of psychology. I've lost my sanity pondering why people as intelligent and gifted and good had to lose their lives so early, and yet I, girl of little accomplishment, was chosen to live on. It's molded and wielded itself into my purpose for my life. It's not a short term feeling for me, but a life lesson I grew up on.
I've been so selfish lately. I've been so lonely lately. There's no doubt those two are related.
It's time to give back. It's time to listen, to document, to live.
This one's to Claire, the angel who left us first. It's to loving others, loving life, and the color pink.
Okay, not everything.
It is rare for my music to not be on when I write, it's as much an inspiration as it is a necessity, like air. Often times it affects the mood of a piece so much that I write down the song names, the bands, the artists, and I attach it to my work in any way I can think of. So even though I'm not sure how long I'll keep up with this, I can guarantee you each post will have a band or a song linked to it.
Today it's the Cold War Kids. I've been obsessing over certain music lately so I decided I needed some variation. I scrolled down my iTunes, found a song that I loved in the C's, and just let my library take me from one band to the next.
Mulberry Street, to a Daytrotter Session, to Robbers & Cowards, my mood just evolved with every new song, each note, each lyric.
I knew I had some really awesome websites in my favorites that I had been to once but hadn't had the chance to truly explore. As part of my Sunday tradition, I went to Post Secret to read the new arrivals. They stirred my soul and put me in the mood for some good art. I scrolled my favorites and hit a blog. I'm not really sure how I originally ran across it, probably from facebook stalking. I don't really care because it is beautiful. The most recent post revolved around the experience the writer had from going to a website. From what I read, I knew that I had to go see the website. I went and I knew I had to go tell others about this website. The love, the talent, the purpose, was all too beautiful to not share.
http://www.dayswithmyfather.com/
Psychology has a theory that if you lose someone close to you, you may feel the need to live a fuller life. I'm taking Psychology of Adjustment and two kids in my class spoke up about two very tragic deaths of very close friends of theirs. They both had experienced this feeling, but they said it was momentary, and after a while they stopped trying.
I've been lucky enough to not have to suffer the pain of losing someone very close to me to death. That doesn't mean I can't sympathize how that feeling must feel like. By the time I left high school, I could count the number of dead classmates on two hands. I may not have lost someone close to me, but my friends did, over and over again. Every time I had to watch friends go through the same experience that my other friends had just gone through. Everyone was constantly on their knees.
So by some loop hole, I've become a subject to this theory of psychology. I've lost my sanity pondering why people as intelligent and gifted and good had to lose their lives so early, and yet I, girl of little accomplishment, was chosen to live on. It's molded and wielded itself into my purpose for my life. It's not a short term feeling for me, but a life lesson I grew up on.
I've been so selfish lately. I've been so lonely lately. There's no doubt those two are related.
It's time to give back. It's time to listen, to document, to live.
This one's to Claire, the angel who left us first. It's to loving others, loving life, and the color pink.
Labels: Claire, Cold War Kids