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[27 Dec 2007 | Thursday]
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Belle of the Bar
So, lately, I've been listening to a bunch of female musicians. I'm not sure what I've been looking for, but I think I found it....
I'm in the middle of creating a mix that breathes, drips and screams, "Molly."
And this is first up:
Belle of the Bar
by Sarah Borges
Another Saturday night and I ain't got no one
I'm just a wallflower bent to the sun
I got my eye on the road and my hand on the radio
Feelin' seventeen 'bout half past ten
And now, it's after midnight
Feelin' twenty-six again
I'm not invited to the party, but I sure wanna go
I'm always the girl that they dance with
But I'm never the one that they wanna take home
Well, I wanna be somebody's angel
You know I wanna be somebody's pride
And I want it, oh so bad
But I'm keepin' it all inside
I had plenty to drink; I've got my red dress on
I was laughin' it up
I was the Belle of the Bar
And I danced 'till the last dance played
But they never played my song
So I got in the car and I went home alone
I spent the whole night starin' at the telephone
And I was waitin' for someone but nobody ever called
I'm always the girl that they dance with
But I'm never the one that they wanna take home
Well, I wanna be somebody's angel
You know I wanna be somebody's pride
And I want it, oh so bad
But I'm keepin' it all inside
And the tears can flow for so long
'Cause I never got the chance to know
10:55 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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Just Once
Just motherfucking once. For crying out fucking loud. I'm so fucking tired of being nice and understanding. Grow the fuck up, all of you.
You see this ball? It's on my yard and I'm fucking keeping it.
7:41 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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[17 Dec 2007 | Monday]
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Lady Pirates and Frog Eyes
-- So, we're in the tunnel? -- Yes. Why, you didn't think we were in the tunnel?
-- Well, I thought maybe we were looking at the tunnel, but that we could still see other ways around the tunnel.
-- Well, we don't have to be in the tunnel if you don't want to be in the tunnel. We can turn around.
-- No, it's fine, I just didn't know we were in the tunnel. Wait, so I'm a pirate?
-- A lady pirate, yes.
-- A lady pirate? Because there's a river in the tunnel?
-- Yes.
-- But no boat?
-- I have hip waders.
-- You have hip waders?
-- Yes. And I can catch fish in a hip-wader net to feed us.
-- And the horse?
-- The horse is on the other side.
-- In April.
-- Yes, in April.
-- So, you won't let me bring a lantern or any maps, but you get hip waders and a horse is pulling you on water skis?
-- Yes.
-- Okay, so what are we really talking about? What are you saying about our relationship?
-- What?
-- I thought we were talking about a tunnel because we were too chickenshit to talk about what's really going on.
-- Oh. I thought we were talking about a tunnel.
1:19 AM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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[20 Nov 2007 | Tuesday]
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Why Fall in Love, When There’s No Need To?
... One can only go alone so far.
Rhett and his Old 97s will do all of my speaking for me today. They've been playing since 10 o'clock and I've got to say - they have a fucking good point.
It's too bad the one who really would have gotten this pulled an Adelaide.
I don't want to get you all worked up/ Except secretly I do/ I'd be lying if I said I didn't have designs on you
Oh well I think I'm going crazy/ I'm feeling pretty good/ This isn't love/ It's just I think my body likes you/ More than any body should/ Your body likes me too / That's why I've only got eyes for you
3:25 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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[19 Nov 2007 | Monday]
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[09 Nov 2007 | Friday]
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[01 Nov 2007 | Thursday]
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Long Distance Love
Some people think you have to go out and find love; others think that you should wait until it comes to you. What if both things happen at once? I'm talking, of course, about that most trying, difficult and thrilling of possibilities: the Long Distance Relationship (LDR). Now, I'll admit that my idea of what constitutes long distance is somewhat ... well, fucked up. When I was 15 and had my first real boyfriend (A senior! Le sigh.), not only did we not go to school together (Thanks, all-girls Catholic high school.), but we also lived in different towns, in different states. His school was 45 minutes from mine. His house was 45 minutes from his school. His house was an hour and 15 minutes from my house. It was a triangle of doom, which meant that we didn't get to make out in the hall and hold hands on a daily basis, but we did spend every Friday or Saturday night at one another's house. Our parents, sympathetic to the somewhat hopeless plight of our young love, allowed us sleepovers. I realize that this is not standard for the high school set. It's just another example of the many ways in which my upbringing was totally hippified.
Anyway, things were fine, so it didn't seem that odd to me to date someone who lived an hour away. (And around DC, almost anywhere can be an hour away, depending on traffic.) So, when I dated The Latest, who I am renaming The Last of the Weepers (There shall be no more, John Farrell! He, also, was never goth.), the commute didn't faze me. He used it as Reason 8756865969708933474 why This Wasn't Meant to Be. (Really? 'Cause I think the only reason is pretty much that you're a fucking liar.)
I understand that a high school boyfriend is different than an Oh-my-God-I'm-almost-thirty-where-has-the-time-gone-gee-
you'd-make-a-good-partner-let's-take-it-slow-but-you-know-faster-than-a-fucking-glacier-okay-kiddo-get-the-fuck-over-your-ex-girlfriend relationship. I know that there are different things that I need ten years later. But, the pros and cons list remains pretty much the same.
I'm a fan of people being independent, whole persons who have their own lives. Two people make a much better pair than one-and-a-half. When you are apart, you are able to develop solid communication. Awkward silences need to be overcome by talking through them, not by making out through them. (Granted, the making out is great, but you can't build a solid relationship on kisses alone. It's tempting, though.) You develop a style of conversation and a comfort with talking that serves you well when you are together.
All-in-all, I don't have a big problem with distance. Other than that it makes kisses-on-demand more difficult to come by, that is. And that you have to wait. And wait. And wonder if, in the end, you'll actually be able to make something of it. But that's part of the excitement, too.
So, if it's right, don't be afraid of distance. Because being geographically distant is leaps and bounds better than being emotionally distant.
8:44 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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[24 Oct 2007 | Wednesday]
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[10 Oct 2007 | Wednesday]
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Well played, Chris Moore
Way to show up and take me to lunch. I'm enjoying this new-found sense of freedom you've got. It makes me think about when we first moved to DC and you were unemployed and totally at my beck and call. Ah, the good old days. I especially enjoyed getting guilt for not going to your birthday party. As always, I came up with the perfect alibi: Uh, I had to go to my dad's funeral.
Seriously, if you think for a second that anything but that would have kept me from the rager that was your thirtieth, you're crazy.
As Blur said, "It's the end of a century." Or, at least, the middle of one.
To friends. And Burke's Dick. (And Dick Burke's Dick, of course, without whom Burkie would not be even a shadow of the man he is today.) And, to the United Nations.
You were the first person to take care of me when I found out my dad had cancer. We drank margaritas at 2 pm and I was drunk by 4. We talked about death and suicide and life and it was the first time in a long time that I didn't feel alone. Thank you for being my friend.
4:11 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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In appreciation of a good exhaust manifold
Is there anything hotter? Also, here's to ending the night with little kisses. Whatever this strange vibe is, it needs to be pushed in a more positive direction. I think you make me nervous. And I'm not sure how I feel about that.
I was going to write an impassioned defense of being defensive, but instead I'll just say: You have the best exhaust manifold in Alexandria and I look forward to seeing it again.
Let's play nice from here on out. |
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[05 Oct 2007 | Friday]
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Stand for Security
So, I'm in San Francisco, working on SEIU's Stand for Security campaign and loving (almost) every moment of it. Security officers in SF are negotiating their second contract ... they've been working under an expired contract for almost 100 days. Security officers are under-paid, under-trained, and need access to affordable family health care. There are twice as many private security officers as police nationwide. Can you imagine how effective they'd be if trained properly and given fair wages? This was all thrown into sharp relief yesterday, when two unarmed officers at a bank in Philadelphia were gunned down during a robbery. There are unarmed security officers all over, protecting banks and multi-billion dollar buildings ... high-profile targets.
Yesterday, about 50 security officers, community supporters, clergy and SEIU organizers took part in a breathtaking act of civil disobedience. It is one of the most powerful things I've seen yet. We marched from 1 Front Street to the intersection of Montgomery and Pine, where organizers used their bodies to block traffic, standing with arms outstretched in the roadway. Others then took their places on folding chairs and sitting on the ground in a circle. It was an amazing visual. We had signs and banners and flags and chanted the whole time. There was drumming and yelling and Pastor Logan (from LA) gave an impassioned speech to those who had chosen to take part in the civil disobedience. Everyone walking by stopped and was taking pictures and joined in the chanting.
We held the intersection for forty-five minutes. Police showed up, arrested 23 protestors and cleared the intersection. The rest of us marched back to 1 Front and held a small rally.
This really is such fulfilling work, I can hardly stand it. It gets hard and tiring and it's lonely on the road, especially since the East Coast is three hours ahead and so by the time I'm finally getting back to the hotel, everyone is asleep. But watching the officers and the organizers and the community respond to these events is amazing. I sincerely recommend union work for anyone who wants to make a difference, be involved, and see (mostly) immediate results.
The people working here are phenomenal and we're already so bonded and tight that it's going to be hard to be back in DC without them. That's why I'm signing on to go to LA for their contract ratification at the end of October - hell, yeah!
Tiki is going to be very upset with me.
7:14 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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[19 Sep 2007 | Wednesday]
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On Wanting
Tonight, I looked at all I've ever wanted for the last time. Tomorrow, I'm going to start looking for all I've ever needed.
The only problem is that I think they're the same thing.
1:36 AM - 3 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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[09 Aug 2007 | Thursday]
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Death was written by a Muscovite
I sat in the hospital room at Sloan-Kettering, listening to Tchaikovsky and watching my father die, thinking how Russian it all seemed.
I've tried to write it a hundred times and I can't yet. I can't put it all down because I want it still to be mine. I want to keep it and have my grief and not share the story with anyone.
I don't want to be told that it will get better or time will heal me or that my father is in a better place. I don't want to be better. Right now I want to be sad. I want to be angry.
I feel guilty that I'm not wasting away on grief, feeding myself only on tears and heartache. I feel guilty that I'm able to get out of bed in the morning, that I'm able to think of other things, that I can already imagine my life going on.
For the One: I'm angry that I spent three hours on the phone last night, trying to figure out a relationship that has nothing to do with my father and never will. I'm perplexed that in building your own walls, you haven't noticed that I've long since been in possession of my own well-fortified citadel. It's not conquering that interests me. You're afraid I might leave, but have you ever thought of what I had to go through to get here? One doesn't long for shelter and then pass by a house, no matter how ramshackle or broken-down it might at first seem.
For the Other: I'm angry that you echo my grief and loss in the most perfect mirror image I've ever seen. I'm heartbroken that our connection is based on sorrow and loss and the need to be with someone else who knows how empty you feel. It pains me in ways I will never be able to fully express that it is only your words and the grief-stricken camaraderie in your eyes that makes me feel capable of feeling this loss. That you and I could never exist outside of this world in which we're wholly alone by being together leaves me incapable of doing justice to the depth of my sorrow through words alone.
For the One-Step-Away: I'm angry that your past sins keep you from having a sincere relationship with me, because you're always on-guard against making another mistake. If I could explain to you all the ways in which I've forgotten those trespasses, I'd lose myself halfway through, because even I can't recall them all.
I'm angry that I feel more anger than sorrow.
I want to be cared for. I want to be hugged and hushed and tucked away in someone's pocket for now. I want to be made love to and called beautiful and special and brought back to life. I want to be sheltered and soothed and wrapped in normalcy and intimacy and the promise that things will get better. I want to sit and to think and to cry and to know that when I look up from my solitary reflection, I am not alone.
I want to take some lesson from this, some sense that I've suffered to here, to this point at which the overwhelming sadness is merely a last surge before the tide runs out and I am able to stand safely on the shore of my own small peace.
Help me. Leave me alone.
3:31 PM - 3 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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[26 Jul 2007 | Thursday]
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[24 Jul 2007 | Tuesday]
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[20 Jul 2007 | Friday]
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Late Night
Some of us were just made for the late-night life. Me, Amber, the people who send me text messages at 1 am. Thanks, peeps. This week has kicked my ass. I am so tired. Tomorrow, I want hugs and kisses and a nap.
1:42 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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[23 Jun 2007 | Saturday]
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[21 Jun 2007 | Thursday]
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And Then the Universe Takes a Dump on Your Head
I think it's raining. Oh, wait ... what is that? Oh, come on! Not cool, Universe, not cool. I tend, generally, to take a positive view of life. At least, I'm very good at talking myself into taking a positive view. I know that I've got a lot going for me and that I'm lucky to have a house and good friends and a family that cares for me. I tend to look at each difficult thing with the attitude, "Well, if this is the hardest thing I ever have to deal with, I'm lucky."
(Don't get me wrong; I can recount every injustice since the age of two, but I try really hard to keep that out of the everyday.)
Until recently, things were going very well for me. I felt very good about life and where I was going. (Except for my love life, which I've come to recognize as a perennial cycle of disappointment and heartache.) It's safe to say that I felt better about life than I have ... well, ever.
Ha! Silly little Molly. Don't you know there's a price to be paid?
The last three weeks have been a whirlwind of pain, confusion, fear, anger and uncertainty. I've wanted very much to keep it to myself, but I realize that writing about these things helps me deal with them. So, here it is.
I went to Italy with one of my best friends, Misty. I arrived in Rome after one of the more ridiculous travel experiences I've endured (Thank you, Alitalia flight attendants, for going on strike. Vive la whatever!). When Misty and I went to Siena to visit my parents, we were met at the train station by my dad and stepmom. My father was yellow. Marigold yellow. Hi-I-have-Hepatitis-and/or-my-liver-has-for-one-reason-or-another-ceased-functioning yellow. I almost burst into tears as soon as I saw him, which is unusual for me when dealing with my father.
My father and Peach decided to cut their vacation short to come back to the States so my dad could see his doctors at Sloan-Kettering. Good call.
Misty and I went back to Rome with my friend Aliki, who lives the sort of fabulous life abroad that all women dream of and makes it work because she is so freakishly blessed with the language gift. We were at Aliki's apartment getting ready for dinner when Misty got sick.
Even now, I'm not sure that I can accurately describe how truly terrifying what happened was. I'm not sure that I should put it here, either, as her husband and family and other friends don't need to hear it. Suffice it to say that I have never, in my whole life, been so at a loss as to what to do. I have never seen someone in that much pain without being able to identify the cause, or know how to make things better.
Aliki and I called the ambulance and the EMTs came and took Misty to the emergency room. The doctors decided she needed emergency surgery. Misty had suffered an aneurysm and was bleeding internally. The next 48 hours are something of a blur. While waiting for Misty to get out of surgery, I was calling her doctors here in the States and her family. The hardest part was trying to explain the severity of the situation to her family members without screaming and crying and freaking them out.
I was able to see Misty the next afternoon and Aliki and I made sure all of her insurance was in place. I met up with her cousins at an airport hotel and gave them all the details and turned over Operation: Roman Holiday. I left on Sunday to come back to the States.
The airline lost my luggage. I lost my parking ticket.
My father had a blocked bile duct, which is why he had turned yellow. Good news: a simple surgery will drain the duct and then another simple surgery will ensure this doesn't happen again. Bad news: the cancer has spread to his lungs.
I went to work on Monday and was told that the Public Relations department was being eliminated due to budgetary restrictions. So, now I'm out of a job.
Any of these events on its own would have been managable. But together, they just seem a bit overwhelming. I'm trying to look at this as an opportunity to change a lot of things. I can renew my relationship with my father. I can get serious about getting myself healthy. I can look at the reactions people had to Misty's emergency and make more informed decisions about the kinds of people I want in my life and what I'm looking for in a partner. I can move. I can try something new, job-wise. I can take a short break and get my head back in order.
Right now, though, I'm having a hard time staying positive and not just crawling into bed and staying there. I have some amazing friends who have really stood by me through this and have done their best to be there for me. But there's a level of comfort I simply don't feel; a way of being soothed that no one seems to have figured out. I don't know that it's even anything that another person could do.
I intended to write this as a funny blog. Once she's back and safe for sure, I might try to rewrite the Misty episode, as it's just so ridiculous that all you can really do is laugh about it. And be jealous that her doctors in Italy are smoking hot. Distractingly so. I don't know how anyone controls her blood pressure in that place.
So, if you can give me the following things, you're someone I might like to talk to: a job, chocolate, a job, the cure for cancer, a job, a declaration, a job, a private medivac from Rome to DC, a job, free manicures and pedicures for life, a job, really good wine, a job, a back rub, a job, maid service, a job, a good mix CD, a job.
I miss my mommy.
9:40 AM - 8 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove |
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