Hold On

This morning I woke up feeling afraid, which is uncommon for me these days. But it used to be the rule and not the exception.

This song, also on the Bridesmaids soundtrack, used to be a fave of mine:

I know this pain

Why do you lock yourself up in these chains?

No one can change your life except for you

Don't ever let anyone step all over you

Just open your heart and your mind

Is it really fair to feel this way inside?

Is it fair? No. But opening your heart and your mind, especially

when you most need to do it, isn't easy.

Thankfully, as the movie reminds us and as I know from personal experience, one of the advantages to sinking really low is that it illuminates where things are in such a way as to make it

almost impossible not to change for the better:

I know that there is pain

But you hold on for one more day

And you break free from the chains

Yeah I know that there is pain

But you hold on for one more day

And you break free, break from the chains...

And being free from the chains sure feels good!

DIrty Deeds

A happy memorial day indeed. All the components were there: Good friend, good flick, good beer, good food, sunshine, warmth, Picnic Point, Union Terrace...

If you haven't seen Bridesmaids, I highly recommend it. It's hilarious. It has a fun soundtrack, too. I liked all of the songs, but when this one came on, I thought it really captured the vibe of a lot of the movie -- a little trashy, didn't take itself too seriously, wasn't afraid to go just a little too far to get a laugh:

For a fee,

I'm happy to be,

Your back door man

Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap

Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap

Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap

No Distance Left to Run

This one started to play on the internal jukebox for two reasons today, I reckon:

1) It's one of the tracks on a CD made for me by the man who sent me Someone Like You via email this week; and

2) My man was moving through some of the tough but necessary feelings involved with healing from a divorce today, and I felt his pain along with a little of my own:

It's over

You don't need to tell me

I hope you're with someone who makes you

feel safe in your sleeping tonight

I won't kill myself, trying to stay in your life

I got no distance left to run

As much as it hurts, it's so important to stop running sometimes and let the feelings catch up with you. Once they are felt, they can be on their merry way again. That's not to say they might not come calling again -- just that they won't continue to weigh you down in the meantime...

Shut Up

Today I had one of those mornings with my daughter where we had a difficult interaction and then had to part for four days when I dropped her at her Dad's. Not only does it hurt extra when that happens, but I think there is a correlation between our difficult interactions and switch days.

I can see so much of myself in my daughter, and when I heard this song today after she was gone, I thought of her with her hands over her ears this morning as she was refusing to listen to me, and I thought how these lyrics could also have been the soundtrack in my own head when I was eight years old and my parents were trying to talk to me:

Shut up

Just shut up

Shut up [3x]

Shut it up, just shut up

Shut up

Just shut up

Shut up [3x]

Shut it up, just shut up

It's good for me to tie these sorts of interactions in with me as a little girl, because I think that one of the reasons I get so worked up sometimes has to do with old feelings that didn't get to come out then and need to come out now.

It doesn't feel good when I've parented in a manner of which I am not proud. But I'm taking the steps: I'm letting those old feelings come out (in appropriate ways); I apologized to my daughter; I'm reading a new parenting book to arm myself with new strategies; and we're changing our custody schedule in a way that I think is going to work better because I won't always have the end of my time with them coincide with the end of my work week (when I'm already really drained)...

It's all going to work out. I know that it working out might still mean she puts her hands over her ears sometimes and hears this song inside her head, but that's part of being a kid. What it's not going to continue to include is me overreacting to things she says and does because of my own exhaustion or residual anger. Mark my words!

Someone Like You

Got a sweet and kinda sad email from my faraway friend (and first love) with a link to this heartbreaker of a song. He said he cried when he heard it -- and sure enough, when I fired it up, I cried too. Hard. I felt sad for a number of reasons. One because I don't really think it works that way:

Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you, too,

Don't forget me, I beg,

I remember you said,

"Sometimes it lasts in love,

But sometimes it hurts instead"

Indeed it does sometimes hurt instead -- but I don't think that you ever find someone like someone you've loved. Not really. I mean sure, some qualities I found attractive about him were qualities I continued to seek in future lovers. But mostly, I don't feel like it works that way, which is one reason why this song makes me sad.

The thing I miss most about him is also a feeling he inspired in me that first summer -- and still did when I saw him last summer -- carefree, helpless laughter:

You know how the time flies,

Only yesterday was the time of our lives,

We were born and raised in a summer haze,

Bound by the surprise of our glory days,

That makes me wonder though, too, if part of what makes me so sad is that I don't seem to have access to that girl on my own. Maybe there's something else I can do to get her back? Because as much as I love that girl and the man who brings her out, it was super clear to me last summer that he doesn't have what I need as a woman these days: someone with much more ready access to and comfort with feelings of the heart.

Perhaps the biggest tears were for that girl, who lost her love and shut down afterward for a long, long time to protect herself from feeling that again:

Nothing compares,

No worries or cares,

Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,

Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

Nevermind, I'll find someone like you,

I wish nothing but the best for you,

Don't forget me, I beg,

I remember you said,

"Sometimes it lasts in love,

But sometimes it hurts instead"

It does still hurt sometimes, and that sort of sucks, but I feel good about these three truths:

1) He's never going to forget me, or I him;

2) I'm now capable of opening my heart and, mostly, keeping it open;

3) I'm with someone now who is capable of loving me and of making room for those who will always be important to me, having shaped, as Adele says in her introduction to the video, the woman I am today.

Every Day I Write the Book

These days, by the time I get to Thursday evening, I'm so beat from my work week that all I can think about is the weekend. I don't like living my life that way, but it's really hard to avoid when working a 40 hour/week day job. I had a couple of opportunities today to talk about different possibilities for my life -- one when a group came in to meet with me and asked at the end of the meeting if I might be interested in working for their parent organization if things don't continue on with my current gig. And the other when a writer friend asked me if I was still writing -- blogging, I answered. And this really does keep me connected to that part of myself, even if it really hasn't developed into a possible career alternative just yet.

Found this little prize on youtube, an appropriate soundtrack to this post indeed:

And I'm giving you a longing look

Everyday, everyday, everyday I write the book

I love that recording, with all the artists pitching in with Elvis Costello. And these are my favorite lyrics, 'cause I'm with Elvis -- the lovers should be able to earn a good living, too:

Don't tell me you don't know the difference

Between a lover and a fighter

With my pen and my electric typewriter

Even in a perfect world where everyone was equal

I'd still own the film rights and be working on the sequel

Until then, I guess I'll keep fighting!

Downtown

Tonight my kids and I undertook the daunting task of cleaning their bedrooms. I'm pretty laissez-faire about the state of their rooms, so the messiness was at a maximum. My daughter asked if I'd bring my computer upstairs so she could listen to some music while we worked, and when I did, this is the song she requested:

When you're alone

And life is making you lonely,

You can always go downtown

When you've got worries,

All the noise and the hurry

Seems to help, I know, downtown

Just listen to the music of the traffic in the city

Linger on the sidewalk where the neon signs are pretty

How can you lose?

The lights are much brighter there

You can forget all your troubles, forget all your cares and go

Downtown, things'll be great when you're

Downtown, no finer place for sure,

Downtown, everything's waiting for you

(Downtown)

I have no idea how she knows that song, but I loved that she requested it, and I enjoyed listening to it with her repeatedly while we worked. She specifically said to me: "Don't write about this in your blog tonight, Mom." But you know that feeling you had when your parents asked you not to do something that you knew wouldn't really do any harm, so you did it anyway? Well, I'm hear to report that I sometimes have that same feeling now, as the parent, and I still get that satisfying feeling that comes with benign defiance. Is it just me, or is that a universal feeling?

Either/Or

Sometimes I find the world of politics fascinating; other times I find it frustrating and rather pointless. Today found me feeling more of the latter, which I think is why this song appealed to me so much when the ipod shuffled onto it this evening:

You're strong, you're stubborn now

In an endless symbolic war

Brave or bored, either/or

Sometimes I ricochet from the past

And at times a future I've already had before

Champion or chore, either/or.

I'll write the pages you rip out

Back in their places again

One day you'll know what you're talking about

I can hardly imagine, but until then I'll be

Filling in these blanks that you create

Every time you win some petty score

Posing as hardcore, oh yeah, either/or

Look at the spin chief, battered and broken

Clutching a plastic rose

We're all in the downpour you carry around for

Trashing a lifestyle you've never known

It's a useful dream that makes

Quite an entertaining show and not much more

Up against and for, either/or...

First Day of My Life

Remember the feeling during the spring of the senior year of high school? Every day feels like an eternity because you're so ready to move on to the next phase. (Except those days we cut school and went out to the lake and hung out and had a few -- those were the days we wished would last forever -- but they inevitably turned into another school day.)

I've got some senioritis going on this spring, too, as I finish out the final phase of a long distance relationship and prepare to be living in the same town as my man. It isn't easy, but I'm going to try to make the most of this beautiful day, instead of waiting until he's here, even though I know full well how much more beautiful a day can be when we're together.

Here's a sweet song that beautifully captures the feeling of promise when things just feel right in a relationship:

Yours is the first face that I saw

I think I was blind before I met you

I don't know where I am

I don't know where I've been

But I know where I want to go

So I thought I'd let you know

That these things take forever

I especially am slow

But I realized that I need you

And I wondered if I could come home

I remember the time you drove all night

Just to meet me in the morning

And I thought it was strange

You said everything changed

You felt as if you just woke up

And you said,

This is the first day of my life,

I'm glad I didn't die before I met you

But now I don't care I could go anywhere with you

And I'd probably be happy.

So if you wanna be with me

With these things there's no telling

We'll just have to wait and see

But I'd rather be working for a paycheck

Than waiting to win the lottery

Besides maybe this time it's different

I mean I really think you like me...

Don't Stop Believin'

The mind has an incredibly powerful effect on the body. I've seen it in my own life, I've seen it in the lives of loved ones, and I've seen it in the research.

Today one of the most positive people I know got released from the hospital after a complicated surgery. She has a lot to overcome on the road to recovery, but I have absolutely no doubt she's up to the task, and that the universe will back her by doing its part.

Having this song as a mantra doesn't hurt either. I myself am partial to the original, but my friend is a huge Glee fan, so I therefore name this version the official song of healing over the next few weeks:

Don't stop believin'

Hold on to the feelin'

Don't stop! And I won't either...

Wavin' Flag

This afternoon my son wanted to look at all the songs I've chosen to date to mark my days. There are a lot he doesn't recognize, and many he doesn't approve of, but as he was scrolling through the list, he said to me: "Do you know what song I really like?" And then he pulled this gem up on youtube:

When I get older I will be stronger

They'll call me freedom, just like a wavin' flag

When I get older, I will be stronger

They'll call me freedom just like a wavin' flag

And then it goes back, and then it goes back

And then it goes back, oh

My son is having a really hard time right now. I'm doing my best to help him, but I don't really know how to do much more than listen to him and love him. And while I know that's a lot of what he needs, it isn't all of it, and unfortunately he is very resistant to having anyone outside of his father or I help him. I think I'm just going to have to find it in myself to force the issue. I know that his diagnosis of Asperger's doesn't explain all of it, but I can't just sit by and let him spin his wheels in his current social isolation and feel like I'm doing my job as his mother:

Out of the darkness, I came the farthest

Among the hardest survival

Learn from these streets, it can be bleak

Accept no defeat, surrender, retreat

So we struggling, fighting to eat

And we wondering when we'll be free

So we patiently wait for that fateful day

It's not far away, but for now we say

When I get older I will be stronger

They'll call me freedom just like a wavin' flag

He doesn't have to fight to eat, but I know he's wondering when he'll be free. Maybe this could be his theme song for a while?

Que Sera Sera

When a friend wrote this phrase in a text this evening, I recalled fondly another friend, whose birthday it was yesterday, who still calls me "K" -- a nickname that originated from him calling me que sera sera. My sister called me that too at the time.

Nickname or no nickname, I wasn't much good at living the "whatever will be will be" in those days. I'm better at it now.

Case in point: my experience with the friend who texted me this phrase today and followed it up with this song suggestion for my blog. This is a man with whom I've spent a few evenings of enjoyable banter (mostly of the education policy and political variety) accompanied by beers or margaritas and some longing gazes into his beautiful blue eyes, but nothing other than a hug or a kiss on the cheek has ever transpired between us. When we first met, I was wide open to possibilities on the man front -- but over time, as things have gotten more serious with my long distance love, what I'm potentially up for has evolved into a strictly physical my-heart-is- already-taken-but-my-body-could-use-some-company kind of thing. As it turns out, he's not game for that, but seems intent on maintaining some sort of connection, to which I am open. See how well I'm rolling with things these days?

When I grew up and fell in love

I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead

Will there be rainbows day after day

Here's what my sweetheart said

Que sera sera

Whatever will be will be

The future's not ours to see

Que sera sera

What will be, will be

Que sera sera...

Firework

This was one of the choral selections in my son's spring concert tonight -- and not one of his faves. He was definitely a reluctant participant in that portion of the night's entertainment, but once he had a second row chair and a big old trombone on his lap, he started feeling right at home:

Boom, boom, boom

Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon

It's always been inside of you, you, you

And now it's time to let it through

Cause baby you're a firework

Come on show 'em what your worth

Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"

As you shoot across the sky-y-y

Love those the school events for showcasing what's inside of all those amazing kids!

Hospital Food

This morning I woke up again remembering my dream, but this one was about my friend from college who died nearly two years ago. It's the first dream I can remember that I've had since she died where I felt like she was in full living color -- not in the hospital, not swimming -- no, it wasn't like any of those dreams that were heavy in some way with the circumstances of her death. In this one we were on a beach with some other friends, laughing about a guy she'd been pretty obsessed with in college. I woke up feeling like I'd just gotten to spend time with the best parts of her -- what a treat.

And then I reached over and turned on my ipod, which shuffled onto this David Gray number, tapping into some of the yucky memories of the end of her life, at the hospital, where we watched her slip from the woman we'd laughed with to a woman we didn't recognize:

Seeing it all so beautiful

The way it oughta be

Seeing it all so beautiful

And turning away

Turning away

Turning away

Tell me something

Tell me something

I don't already know

Tell me something

Tell me something

I don't already know

I did learn some things I didn't already know through that experience, but not much of it good. Now another friend is in the hospital, and I'm hoping to learn more that's positive this time around.

Bad

This morning I woke up from a series of dreams in which I was wrestling with the pent-up desire that is such a constant companion in a long distance relationship. None of them contained anything too out there -- a little horseback riding, kissing another guy, and then telling my boyfriend about it and having him tell me he'd passed up a co-ed and I can keep doing the same.

And then I called him and told him about the whole series of dreams, and he sympathized mightily.

After we hung up, this incredible song started to play inside my head:

If I could, you know I would

If I could, I would

Let it go...

This desperation

Dislocation

Separation

Condemnation

Revelation

In temptation

Isolation

Desolation

Let it go

And so fade away

To let it go

And so fade away

To let it go

And so to fade away

I'm wide awake

I'm wide awake

Wide awake

I'm not sleeping

Oh, no, no, no

Yes, if I could, you know I would do a lot of different things with my day today, but alas, I guess I'll just get up and go to work...

Halfway Gone

As many of you know, my internal jukebox is almost entirely focused on matters of the heart. But today, when I started hearing the chorus to Halfway Gone, I knew it had to be driven by something else in my life.

Reading these lyrics, I realized it was the political world I inhabit during the day that had inspired the selection:

Talk, talk is cheap

Give me a word you can keep

Cause I'm halfway gone and I'm on my way

And I'm feelin, feelin feelin this way...

There Goes Your Man

Last night was a bit of a rough one for me -- and not really for any huge reason I can name. I talked to my man about how I was feeling, and that helped as much as it could without him being physically present. After we hung up, I decided to make myself some food and see if I could make a dent in the mountain of housework that has been piling up around me for the last week (or two). To entertain myself while I worked, I checked out the Watch Instantly selections on Netflix and picked The Last Station, a movie about Tolstoy. I'd wanted to see it in the theaters but hadn't, and it seemed like it might match my mood. That it did.

It begins with one of his famous quotes from War and Peace:

Everything I know, I know only because I love.

And the movie captured that truth over and over again. Tolstoy's followers, particularly Chertkov, tried over and over again to get him to leave his wife and change his will. And they were eventually successful -- sort of.

The music in the movie is all instrumental, but ipod shuffle came through with this plaintive little song that seems as if it was written for the soundtrack.

Because he does finally leave her, but not without obvious inner conflict:

There goes your man

There goes your man

He's walking by, and shaking like a leaf

There goes your man

And it just about kills his wife when he does. She does in fact try to kill herself, but is unsuccessful. And it's a damn good thing she didn't go that way, because on his deathbed, he calls out for her. When she comes to his side, she begs his forgiveness (she wasn't quiet over the years about her dislike of Chertkov or how their work took so much away from their lives together), and he has a moment of lucidity that makes it crystal clear to her and to his followers that no idea, no movement, could ever be as strong a force as love:

Come now, you widow

Come now, you widow

Come and rest, so quiet in the meadow

There comes your man

And that, my friends, I find incredibly reassuring.

Because the Night

What a brilliant song. Writing credits go to the Boss (not to mention the hottest arms award), best all-around version to Patti Smith, and coolest group of rockers to play it together goes to the aforementioned plus U2.

Why this selection today? I'd been listening to Bruce's version on repeat in my car when my man sent me a link to it -- love that synchronicity. What I don't love is that no matter how satisfying our phone conversations are, they don't involve him taking me, pulling me close, or staying with me till the morning comes:

Take me now baby here as I am

Pull me close try and understand

I work all day out in the hot sun

Stay with me now till the mornin comes

Come on now try and understand

The way I feel when I'm in your hands

Take me now as the sun descends

They can't hurt you now

They can't hurt you now

They can't hurt you now

Because the night belongs to lovers

Because the night belongs to us

Because the night belongs to lovers

Because the night belongs to us

I'm not going to argue with you, Bruce. The night indeed belongs to lovers. It just makes the nights without them kinda tough sometimes...

Hold Me Now

Heard this 80s tune in the car today, and it felt like visiting with an old friend. It shares the word hold as the first word of the title with the song from yesterday's post, but that's where the similarity ends.

Reading the lyrics now, it feels like a decent summary of my past week in terms of the healing I needed for my feelings about my marriage (which involved some tearing up of said photos):

I have a picture,

pinned to my wall.

An image of you and of me and we're laughing and loving it all.

Look at our life now, tattered and torn.

We fuss and we fight and delight in the tears that we cry until dawn

And the across-the-miles comfort from my dreamy dreamer boyfriend:

Hold me now, warm my heart

stay with me, let loving start (let loving start)

You say I'm a dreamer, we're two of a kind

Both of us searching for some perfect world we know we'll never find

So perhaps I should leave here, yeah yeah go far away

But you know that there's nowhere that I'd rather be than with you (t)here today...

Hold It Against Me

Not sure how to explain that my inner jukebox even includes Britney Spears, but I can tell you that this song was pumping through me all day long today:

If I said I want your body now

Would you hold it against me?

It could be the hot weather -- that always makes me horny. It could be the double entendre -- which perhaps separates it a bit from other Britney numbers. It could also be that it is another way of saying/singing what I was saying yesterday about my man being my chosen respite:

Cuz' you feel like paradise

And I need a vacation tonight...

Nightminds

In an attempt to motivate myself to clean off my desk at work, I decided to try firing up a little music. I logged into Pandora, and a song by Chris Pureka rather mysteriously started playing. (I've never heard of Chris Pureka.) The song didn't particularly strike me one way or the other, but below the list of what was playing were these Missy Higgins lyrics:

Just lay it all down.

Put your face into my neck and let it fall out.

I know, I know, I know. I knew before you got home.

This world you're in now,

it doesn't have to be alone...

And I was completely struck by how well they captured what I feel is available to me now, both in terms of what I'm able to give and what I'm able to get in this new relationship, that was not available in previous relationships.

That rough Mother's Day yesterday really embodied, in many respects, the contrast between my old relationship and my new one, and to cap it all off, I arrived home from work today to find a card from my boyfriend about his experience of me as a mother that was more profound than anything ever uttered (written or spoken) by the man whose children I birthed. This inspires in me both anger at my ex-husband and gratitude for my man, the latter of whom I'm still separated from by 1109 more miles than I'd like to be:

I'll get there somehow, 'cause

I know I know I know

when, even springtime feels cold.

But I will learn to breathe this ugliness you see

so we can both be there and we can both share the dark.

And in our honesty, together we will rise,

out of our nightminds, and into the light

at the end of the fight...

I'm so ready to rise out of my nightmind and into the light. So, so ready...

Bohemian Rhapsody

I realize this probably isn't a conventional choice for mother's day, but it pretty well summarizes both where I've been on this mother's day.

The day began, too early, in a semi-comfortable hotel room bed in Wisconsin Dells, where I'd taken my daughter and two of her friends to celebrate her birthday. Upon arrival at the hotel/waterpark, I saw a sign making reference to it being a vacation -- but it was decidedly not a vacation for me:

Is this the real life?

Is this just fantasy?

Caught in a landslide, (or a waterslide)

No escape from reality

Definitely not an easy place for me to stay grounded. And then, upon leaving the waterpark, the plan was for me to drop my daughter off and pick up my son for a little mother's day bonding. Except, on arrival, I found a son who hadn't made me anything for mother's day (as far as I'm concerned it's the father's job to remind the child, even if they aren't still together), and who said, when I asked if he wanted to go for a hike with me, that he'd rather just stay there. With his Dad and his Dad's new girlfriend. On mother's day.

Ouch:

Mama, ooh, Didn't mean to make you cry...

And I'm sure he didn't, but all that pain makes me want to run away and cease from being in a world of feeling:

If I'm not back again this time tomorrow,

Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters

Too late, my time has come,

Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time...

But instead of checking out, I went home and did some good old fashioned releasing of anger and sadness of the variety that ex-husbands are so good at bringing to bear:

So you think you can love me and leave me to die

Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby...

And then I did a series of things that also helped. I napped. I commiserated with a friend who is going through a divorce. I taught a yoga class. I talked with a friend afterward. I ate some pasta. I talked to the most amazing man ever -- yep, I get to talk to him almost every day -- he's my boyfriend. I talked to an old friend. And now, I'm going to crawl into bed.

Living Inside My Heart Now

This morning, in a sext to my boyfriend, I used the word inhabit. Before he could answer, I started to answer in my own mind. (This is a frequent occurrence. In fact, I've had to break up with guys because their responses weren't as good as my imagined responses -- but this is another area where this man excels.) Anyway, my response included, it will not surprise you to learn, a soundtrack. Here's what was playing, in all its cheesy glory:

When the sun came up this morning

And she smiled her smile for me

I felt it for the first time

Something deep inside of me

So you can take your midnight ramblin' boys

And you can keep your winding roads

She's livin' inside my heart now, livin' inside

Oh there's an easiness about her

There's a softness in her way

But she gets me through the hard times

We get closer everyday

I know I'll never be alone now boys

Cause even if I'm far away

She's livin' inside my heart now, livin' inside, yeah

And I don't know what I did to deserve her

But I'll tell you this my friend

I'm never gonna lose her

Never gonna lose her

Cause eve - ry night

She's livin' inside my heart now, livin' inside

Love that song! Remember About Last Night, the movie it came from? Here's a video with a snippet of the movie with the song playing in the background.

Watching it now, it occurs to me that those two kids (played by Rob Lowe and Demi Moore) didn't really understand what love was. I didn't know that when I first watched this in the 80s, that's for sure.

This being older, second time around thing sure has its benefits!

I'm Yours

Today on the bike ride home from work, I was thinking, as I so often do, about my man. I was thinking what a gift it is that in many ways we have similar struggles in this world, and this song floated into my consciousness:

I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some

But I won't hesitate no more, no more

It cannot wait, I'm yours

At home now reading the lyrics, I can see many ways in which this song sings our story, one of which is the fact that we each did this for the other:

Well open up your mind and see like me

Open up your plans and then you're free

Look into your heart and you'll find love love love love

It isn't that there aren't details to be worked out, the first of which is residing in the same town. And it isn't like I never have fear or doubts -- it's just that when I do, I'm not in his arms or looking into my heart, because when I'm either of those places, my answer is clear:

But I won't hesitate no more, no more

It cannot wait, I'm yours...

Helplessness Blues

Yesterday was a rough one at the orifice, and the last time I had a day like this, a friend suggested this song might speak my mind and heart, and indeed it does:

I was raised up believing I was somehow unique

Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see

And now after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be

A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

But I don't, I don't know what that will be

I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

What's my name, what's my station, oh, just tell me what I should do

I don't need to be kind to the armies of night that would do such injustice to you

Or bow down and be grateful and say "sure, take all that you see"

To the men who move only in dimly-lit halls and determine my future for me

And I don't, I don't know who to believe

I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

If I know only one thing, it's that everything that I see

Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak

Yeah I'm tongue-tied and dizzy and I can't keep it to myself

What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?

Helplessness blues is indeed the tune I'm singing tonight...

Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon

This track has played a few times over the past few days now that the internal jukebox is back in action:

Girl, you'll be a woman... soon

And I'm psyched every time it comes on -- what a great song. The one I hear is Urge Overkill's cover from Pulp Fiction -- but it is also fun to check out the young Neil Diamond singing the original back when I was a wee lass:

I love you so much, can't count all the ways

I've died for you girl and all they can say is

"He's not your kind"

They never get tired of putting me down

And I never know when I come around

What I'm gonna find

Don't let them make up your mind.

Don't you know...

Girl, you'll be a woman soon,

Please, come take my hand

Girl, you'll be a woman soon,

Soon, you'll need a man

I think it came up the first time because my man and I had been discussing our reluctance to grow up and take responsibility for ourselves and how that both played into and played out in our first marriages. A part of both us -- and we're by no means the only ones -- it's a common phenomenon especially among those who survive rough childhoods -- wanted to be taken care of when we got married. And some amount of caretaking is involved in any healthy relationship -- it just works a lot better when it is roughly evenly distributed. That's one of the things we're banking on being different this time around.

The second time I heard it was today on the bike ride home -- and it was a fine tune to which to ride.

And finally, the third go-round was tonight when my soon-to-be eight-year-old daughter announced that no, she did not want me to run her a bath; she'd prefer a shower. "Baths are for little kids, Mom, and I'm not little anymore." Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Luckily, I have a handful of years with her being at least semi-little...

One Man Guy

Context is everything, I guess. When Rufus's version of this song came on my ipod after 40 hours or so of uninterrupted time with my one man, I heard it as a gay man's ode to a committed relationship:

'Cause I'm a one man guy in the morning

Same in the afternoon

One man guy when the sun goes down

I whistle me a one man tune

One man guy a one man guy

Only kind of guy to be

I'm a one man guy

I'm a one man guy...

I even said to my man at the time (with a smile): "One man? I'm getting there!" And getting there I am. If you'd told me a year ago that I'd meet someone with whom I'd only actually get to spend 16 days (over the course of 9 months) in his physical presence and then told me I wouldn't be with anyone else in the interim, I wouldn't have believed it could happen, but here I am. And it isn't even because I couldn't be with someone else -- I've had both the option open and the opportunity -- but not the desire. Weird! Part of it might be related to the manner in which we make up for the time spent apart when we are together, but more than that, I guess what I thought were physical needs were actually much more tied to emotional needs than I recognized -- just one more way I've grown in this relationship.

But when I looked up this song on youtube tonight, I realized it was written by his Dad, and it's about living a solitary life:

People will know when they see this show

The kind of a guy I am

They'll recognize just what I stand for and what I just can't stand

They'll perceive what I believe in

And what I know is true

And they'll recognize I'm a one man guy

Always was through and through

People meditate

Hey that's just great

Trying to find the inner you

People depend on family and friends

And other folks to pull them through

I don't know why I'm a one man guy

Or why I'm a one man show

But these three cubic feet of bone and blood and meat are all I love and know

Feels a bit ironic, but also really fitting at the same time. Some people are still pretty alone in committed relationships -- sometimes because they choose to be -- sometimes because they don't know any other way -- sometimes because they start out open and something happens to shut them down. My last committed relationship was characterized by the last of those, and it became a very lonely place. As my boyfriend and I head toward that committed space, we're vowing not to end up back there (he had a similar experience in his marriage). At least as important, though, was something I realized this weekend -- I can pick someone that seems less likely to abandon me when times get tough -- but maybe more importantly, I can choose not to abandon myself this time around too.

Think You Can Wait

There are few things I like more than having the time to take in a flick, a partner with whom to enjoy it, and a flick worth watching. All those forces came together today when my man and I biked over to Sundance for a matinee of Win Win.

As the credits rolled on this touching little dramedy, this song started to play:

I was drifting, crying

I was looking for an island

I was slipping under

I'll pull the devil down with me one way or another

I'm out of my mind; think you can wait?

I'm way off the line; think you can wait?

Discussing the movie afterward, I noted how inspiring I felt the couple in the movie's love was. Basically, the main character screws up. He does something of which he is not proud -- but he does it -- as I think we all do -- when he's feeling desperate and doesn't feel like he has a choice.

When his wife finds out about it (at least in part), she is upset that he didn't discuss it with her, but she gets over it -- she's not mean and she doesn't hold a grudge. Later on, when it comes out that what he did was worse than she thought, she is angry with him. But she doesn't judge. And she doesn't walk away, or really even go away emotionally.

It was novel for me to see this all play out this way, and to observe how much less collateral damage there is when anger and disappointment are handled this way. I'm going to endeavor to follow this example, and when I need a reminder, I'm going to listen to this song, and make sure we're not staying away from the baby (which I take to mean taking care of the love -- getting back to that tender loving space) for way too long:

We've been running a sleepless run

Been away from the baby way too long

We've been holding a good night gone

We've been losing our exits one by one...

I Alone

Whew! A couple of days of rest and relaxation and the inner jukebox is back on, my friends! Not quite sure why it came up with this number:

It's easier not to be wise

and measure these things by your brains

I sank into Eden with you

alone in the church by and by

I'll read to you here, save your eyes

you'll need them, your boat is at sea

your anchor is up, you've been swept away

and the greatest of teachers won't hesitate

to leave you there, by yourself, chained to fate

I alone love you

I alone tempt you

I alone love you

fear is not the end of this!

But I have a few guesses as to where this came from (& why), and here they are:

1) Heard it on the radio yesterday in the car;

2) I spent a lot of time not being wise and measuring these things (love relationships) with my brain, as was the tradition of all the Dr. Archibald's that have come before me (there were three);

3) I'm moving into a space where I let my body -- which includes my heart -- make the calls. Which means, and I have to remind myself of this quite often -- that I'm certain that fear won't be the end of this particular love affair...