Cat Power…then I’m soft

Cat Power. Something about that music, something about Chan Marshall – her voice, her words, her mannerisms – just gets me. I know but a fraction of all that is Cat Power, but it catches me and it catches in my throat, being something that I can’t wholly swallow. Seeping into me, it makes my chest ache with a thrill or nostalgia or loneliness or love for things nonspecific. Maybe I ache with all those at once. I listen to her voice singing, delicately rough, and it’s as if it’s trying to exfoliate me from the inside out. It isn’t an obvious scraping or scratching, but it is rubbing away the dead cells or some unfeeling I may have. After I listen to (and/or watch) a song by Cat Power, I can’t help but to feel something. Maybe I’m over dramatizing the effect this music has on me and maybe another day I will be sick of it, but today this is where it is for me. True enough.

A view of the world through a child’s unclouded eyes. Crying fetal-ly. Looking too closely in the mirror. That’s the sense I get. That probably tells more about me than it does about Cat Power. So, while I’m on that track, let me stray further…

When I was younger, I thought I might grow up to be magical. I hoped I would. I wanted to smell like flowers without help from perfume, lotion, or shampoo. I imagined that maybe someday my eyes would actually sparkle. That my skin might shimmer at sunrise and glow in the night. That my hair would radiate light. I could be the girl of the love poems and the love songs that aren’t real, except that I would be, you know, real.

To be honest, I never really hoped for those things to be true of me. I knew it wasn’t possible, but I did like to think of it back then. What’m I saying…I still do.

Maybe I should think of having traits more honorable, more useful, but no. Even if neither this nor that has or has not to do with what I started out with, not now. I’ll save that more worthy stuff for another time.

So you see, this is what listening to Cat Power does to me. Or maybe that’s just my excuse.

The Greatest

Textures and such

I’m big on touching things, feeling things. I’m a sucker for nice textures. I’m the girl you see in the stores that, more often than not, reaches out to rub any shirt or pillow or stuffed animal that looks particularly soft and fuzzy. I also like the non-sticky, squishy gel feeling. For example, the shoe inserts that sometimes have blue gel parts to them – I have to feel those if I’m near them. Well, I don’t have to, but I really like to. You know those window clingers that look like thin jello? I love those, as in I love to play with them. I practically fantasize about eating those things (in a non-sexual way). Go ahead and put them up on your window, but expect my fingerprints to show up.

This brings me to my issues with gel candles. Those things are awesome and evil! Torn between preserving their beauty and wanting to squish them until I’ve ruined them… I could say more but I won’t, if only just to preserve the appearance of sanity. Plus, I just edited someone’s proposal for a medical experiment, so I’m a little low on writing steam at the moment.

Spilled coffee

Yesterday, I was on my way from one place to another, as people often are when they are traveling from point A to point B. Or B to C, or Z. Whatever. I had one of those fancy shmancy coffees from a local coffee shop with me. Me being who I am, I managed to break the cup and spill the coffee down the side of my car, splashing a bit onto my jeans and my probably not washable mittens. It happens, and should not surprise any that know me somewhat well.

There were a few guys getting into a nearby car. They looked vaguely familiar, likely because they probably graduated a year or two ahead of me from my high school. Anyway, they each said to me in turn, “Oh, that sucks,” or “Man, that sucks,” or “That really sucks,” or some variant thereof involving “that” and “sucks.” This is acceptable. Then, one of them says, “If that happened to me, I would kill someone.”

K bye.

I don’t cry over spilled milk. I also don’t cry over spilled coffee. Best yet, I don’t kill over spilled beverages of any sort.

Mary and Bob

Mary: Give it here. What are you using that for?

Bob: I’m using it on the Teflon pans.

Mary: You are not! You can’t use that on the Teflon!

Bob: Teflon is not god!

Mary: On the website, it said that it is.

Bob: God is dead!

Mary: No! Liar! How dare you talk that way about Teflon? Teflon is god! The website said so!

Bob: The website is lying to you. Teflon is not god, because god is dead…then again, perhaps I am wrong. Teflon is not alive, therefore it might be god. My apologies.

Mary: Oh…okay.

End scene.

(Four and a half lines of that dialogue actually happened (with different names) and caused my nervous laughter. The rest, I took liberties with and to no purpose.)

Do I carpe diem?

Months back, I did a speech at a school function in front of a few hundred people. Afterward, I had people coming up to me and complimenting me on it, via saying how it made them cry, asking for a copy (to share with a class, in a professor’s case and to do who-knows-what with in others’ cases), or via a more traditional compliment. I was very proud that I’d made such an impression on all of those people, but looking back on it now, I can’t help but think that I should have listened closer to my own words. That speech was one of those (in my opinion) cheesy, carpe diem things. Others seemed to like it (and that stroked my ego well enough), but I wasn’t fully satisfied with it. Regardless, I don’t think that I’ve “seized the day.” Sure, I’ve seized some days, but all? No, certainly not.

No free ice cream

For all those who’ve been getting excited for free ice cream from Cold Stone shops on January 7th, it’s time for disappointment. There will be no free ice cream. This article from The Grand Rapids Press explains the confusion. It was a rumor hugely spread and desired to be true, but only a rumor. Tough luck for those who wanted the free ice cream (who wouldn’t?) and for Cold Stone employees who’ll doubtless have to explain the situation to countless people on January 7th.

A little reflection

2007 is over and 2008 is here. So much has happened in my life in 2007. I’ve gone from looking years into the future to just trying to make it through the day and back a few times over. I’ve loved, I’ve been loved, and I’ve seen love and this is what I have to say about it: Love does not conquer all. All is not fair in love and war. I never believed those cheap cliches in the first place, but this year has done much to reinforce my disbelief. It’s astounding how love can happen between so many different pairings of people. Go ahead and call me a cynic on the matter, but at the same time I still believe in the grandeur and beauty of love. I believe that it is worth more than can be put into words, but it is not worth giving up your whole self for it.

In a year, I’ve gone from being third in my class to not attending any class. I’ve seen death, been depressed, had mono for longer than anyone should, heard abuse, known friends’ pains, and more. I’m not going to lie…this past year has stripped me of my goals. I thought I had an idea. I was one of those that people would gush that could “do anything she puts her mind to doing.” Now, I’m starting from scratch. Where will I go with my life? What do I want to do with my life? I honestly don’t know right now. It is a difficult thing to realize about oneself…having no real goals. Sure, there are plenty of things that I’d like to do with my life, but that is not the same as purposely aiming and striving for something. Oh dear, I suppose I must go and “find myself” now…but that isn’t quite right, because I do know who I am. I just don’t yet know where I am and where I am going to go.

This year has brought some delightful times with it. I have learned much and enjoyed much. There have been such times with people from whom I’ve since drifted and more with those with whom I’ve gotten closer. I can’t be grateful enough to those who’ve been there for me through both laughter and tears.

I don’t regret the last year. No, I certainly don’t.

Here’s to this year being more so excellent and to finding purpose in it.

Problemas con la computadora

My laptop…I think I’ve killed it. It’ll turn on and off, log in, and usually get to the desktop, but not much after that. It’ll freeze up and do nothing, or just show a black or pale blue screen, or restart itself. This is very annoying! And then, when I go to look for my USB flash drive, it’s nowhere to be found! Arghaldybarghaldybarg!!!

Ice Cream

Salivation is called the Cold Stone Creamery.I have neither been to a Cold Stone Creamery in my life nor have I ever consumed a bit of a Cold Stone product of which I am aware. However, I was led to temptation by a Facebook News Feed item. You see, it seems that some of my friends on le interwebz will be getting something along the lines of free ice cream from Cold Stone on one upcoming January 7th. Immediately, I set out to find such a creamery near me, but none was to be found. However, I did find myself nearly entranced by the Cold Stone homepage. Let me tell you, that company’s advertising is working on me! Tall, Dark, and Minty…Cake Batter Batter Batter…Dark Chocolate Peppermint…Pumpkin…such ice cream flavors sound and look oh so inviting to my taste buds. Plus, I just discovered that you can create your own custom ice cream flavor. Perhaps it is just me and my feminine predisposition for ice cream, but I kind of want to eat my computer screen when I look at those pictures.

In all fairness, the more local Ben & Jerry’s Homemade Ice Cream is quite delicious and this I know from experience but…their main site just doesn’t have the same effect on me as that of Cold Stone!

Thought Storm

What a whirlwind day. The leaves would not stir and the waves would not crash but my mind did billow like tides out of sync. Matters of heart, mind, and common humanity flew into me and left me feeling like a tornado’d passed through me. What is it that makes a person crave? What is it that drives someone to grand ambitions? And, harshest wind of all, what is it that pushes a man to hate? To hate and to hit, to aim to destroy another’s being…why? It is something unexpectedly thrashing out from the blue, or rather, out of the grey, for that seems a less noteworthy color (or lack thereof). It is horrid.

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