Covers

Sometimes I like to listen to and compare different covers of a familiar song. I was just recently doing this with "Rainbow Connection" one of my favorite songs. Here's the original Kermit, from Muppet Movie:

I like this Dixie Chicks version. Soulful, nice twangy banjo and guitar supported by fiddle-y strings, sweet hearty voices.

This Weezer version is good too (with Hayley Williams). Nice, quirky sound, expansive at points, a little edgier, but still maintaining that tender feel of the original; I also like the swampy sounds in the background, nice touch:

Willie Nelson. Ephemeral. Savory, easy, nostalgic feel. You kind of get the sense he has already found that rainbow connection.

This one, I don't even know what to say, but I think I love it:

I already posted about the Sarah McLachlin version another time. Definitely a bit more wistful sounding.

Bubber

My little sis sends me an email titled "your homework." It contains the lyrics for Poker Face for me to memorize.


Check this hand cause I'm marvelous!

Goodbye Week, Hello Weekend

This weekend we have a baby* party at my apartment for Kaci + Tom.  My littlest sister sings in West Side Story.  I get to see almost my whole family.  And dear dear dear Rachy comes to stay for a few days! 

Goodbye week, hello weekend. 




*That baby's gonna be here so soon...

Being Happy, Dammit

Unofficial slogan for me these days (apparently):

It's MY life and I'm going to do what I want and be HAPPY, dammit.

I don't really why I feel suddenly freed, but I do.  I just find myself doing so many things I never felt like I could or should do. And I like it. 

Me with the Rat

Just a little burst of good cheer after that depressing previous post.

Snow Miracle

It snowed here. A lot.  I might write about Christmas holiday at some point, but now I am just so happy about this beautiful snow.  Here's something I wrote about our first, little snow last week, it still applies, perhaps more:

AHHHH snow is so pretty! Walking to the train this morning was a little bit thrilling. Neighbors out shoveling. Little doggies making tracks on the sidewalk. The ice on the river, covered in white, except for a few swirly patches here and there. The roofs of the buildings, white. The swings in the playground, people’s front steps. White. Also, I like that the snow kind of shakes everyone back to reality. Everything looks so different. The world looks so different, the same trees, cars, sidewalks, but somehow all brand new.

Snow found its way everywhere. 

Not even the birdhouse was spared.

Three in a row. 

Ice, ice, baby. 

Drippy.

The snow collected in a narrow cap along the top of the fence.  

Trees.  Branches. Snow.  Sky.

Snow barf on everything.

View from front porch.

I have a ton more where that came from, but those are just some highlights.

I woke up with a killer headache and called in to work saying I needed to go back to bed.  When I awoke for real and had something to eat and drink, I checked to make sure it was fine if I took a 'snow day' for myself.  I then proceeded to lounge around for awhile as snowy wind howled around the apartment.  After I had enough of coziness, I bundled up, went out on foot with my camera and my HP7 book, sat in a cafe for awhile, sipped some hot cider.

Bubs and I tried to go skating but it was closed because of THE WEATHER.  Silly.

So we found ourselves having Vietnamese and watching TRON: Legacy.  We both ended up pretty happy with that series of events.  Movie recommended if you're in the mood for a fun, action-y film with fun,  action-y soundtrack.  3D not required.


A song my mom used to sing.

It snowed last night, it snowed last night.
The sky bears had a pillow fight,
Tore up all the clouds in sight, tossed down all the feathers white.
Oh, it snowed last night, it snowed last night.

Fish Nation Army

Michaela likes dancing along to this.

I Love

This song.  So waily-awesome.  Sadly, I haven't listened to it in a long time because my hard drive got baleeted.  




And the pregger banjo player.  OF COURSE the pregger banjo player.  Here's an excerpt from an email:

I basically love when pregnant women do anything.  It's like you take any activity and it is ~10x cooler when a pregnant person does it.  Shooting an arrow?  Pretty cool.  Shooting an arrow while pregnant?  Effing. Bad. Ass.  

This post is hereby publicly dedicated to Kaci.  

Beauty is Healing

Raven, raven, raven
Oh, tell me why do you dress all in black?

I was so pupped out today after work. I didn't even go to dance class. Instead, I gathered up some special items... blueberries, rye bread, almond butter, an old journal from a couple years ago, that exceedingly impractical glass water bottle I've been lugging all over creation lately... and climbed to the park at the top of the hill to Just. Be. Still.

The air was cool and damp. I spread my belongings under a large oak tree with soft whispering leaves. And tried for a few moments to figure out if these droplets were rain or just very low-lying fog.

It didn't matter, I concluded and wrapped myself up in that brown woolen blanket and breathed and listened and felt and nestled. After a few minutes, I opened the old journal. It struck me, really, how much calmer, more centered I've become, even in the couple years since I wrote that. How much more clarity with which I see things, how much more comfortable I am being myself. What a broken little songbird I was...

As I was leaving, three adults and approximately five kids of different sizes and shades were in the process of launching a rocket driven by vinegar and baking powder or soda or whichever it is. I took my time gathering everything up, in hopes that I would get to witness the launch, but it was taking a long time and I didn't want to be a creeper.

I walked back down the hill with water sloshing around inside that great glass container with every step. As I opened the front door to our building, I noticed how it had grown dark. A sacred dark.

Oak tree, oak tree, oak tree
Oh, take me down where roots begin.

Help me!

I have these song lyrics bouncing around my mind:

caught somewhere between the earth and the sky

Does anyone know from which song that line comes? I tried google, no luck. It might just drive me crazy. Or I might just forget about it.

Anyway, the first half of the week I went camping down the Cape with my immediate family, two cousins, one cousin's daughter, one cousin's husband, and one aunt. It rained pretty much every day and we almost couldn't leave my parents' house because the bottom of their car was dragging.

There was a lot of stuff in the car. Also, Em had flu Type A
(whatever that means) and was quarantined. She had to wear
a face mask in the car and sleep in her own tent. Poor pup!

She was feeling better by the second or third day though.

But finally, finally we got there and set up camp. It was fortunately not raining at that point. Of course it ended up being fun, despite the minor disasters and crying/fighting and rain. I played some more mandolin (I'm getting tons better) and had several good and constructive conversations with assorted family members.

When it wasn't raining, it was misting. Or foggy. There were a
few hours of direct sunlight too.

Campfire fun.

My little* brother and I dug an extensive network of trenches throughout the campsite to channel rainwater away from the tents. This probably makes me lame or a nerd or awesome, but that may have been my favorite part of the whole trip. I felt so purposeful and happy, just digging and digging there with the little trowel, redirecting the water away from the beds of my dear family members following simple universal laws. So, all in all, I say 8.5 out of 10 for family campout this year.

An extensive network of trenches (it was not raining at
the time of this photo, so you cannot see it in action)...

Now this evening I am off to pupwood to visit Julia.

Happy Independence Day! I sort of want to watch that Will Smith movie now for some reason...


*My six-foot tall, going to COLLEGE this fall, little brother...

Nearly every day

I loved Rachel's idea. So here are my items.

• Eat vegetables

• Touch something green and alive with my bare skin

• Play mandolin or add songs to the song book

• Say something kind to somebody

• Spend 45 minutes outside

• Restore order to one thing
  

• Hug someone

• Draw a picture
  

or a doodle

or write one word really beautifully

Also:

• Sleep

• Go to work

• Eat breakfast

• Remember keys, phone, and T pass
  

Don't Even Care

It doesn't matter that I'm twenty-five. It doesn't matter that I am a civil engineer. It doesn't matter that I'm a hard core feminist. It doesn't matter that the rear neighbors can see directly in, since we don't actually have any blinds. I don't even care.



There are few things in life that compare to spinning atop the hardwood floors in a swirly twirly poufy flowy white skirt.

And I am doing just that.



I guess I'm just lucky sometimes. To be doing exactly what it is that I want to be doing.

Reflections on the Season

Love is born
with a dark and troubled face
when hope is dead
and in the most unlikely place
Love is born:
Love is always born.
God help us to live slowly:
To move simply:
To look softly:
To allow emptiness:
To let the heart create for us.
Amen

(A prayer, from one of my new favorite books). The theme for this time of my life seems to be grace. Grace, in a transcendent, transformative sense, not just the opposite of clumsiness, though they are likely related.

As I find myself reflecting recently, it seems that life - love - is so very much about the connection between sorrow and joy. Like in the cycles of nature, the decaying of old organic matter provides nutrients for new life to emerge. These tender green plants, nurtured by the sun's warmth, grow forth from the dark moist soil of life that has passed.


Anyway, that same process occurs within us. Over and over, sorrow wrenches from us that which we clutch. Over and over, loss increases our capacity. And grace, love as a force in the universe, restores and replenishes when we are certain we have run dry, each time, as we allow it. My focus during Lent was to empty myself, to allow the process to happen, to not hold back and to not push forward. Each time I denied myself (dessert or candy or cookies) served to remind me of this focus with which I entered the season. In many small ways, I learned to experience love - fierce, terrifying, joyful, surprising LOVE - at a greater depth and breadth.

A couple friends and I attended the Easter Eve service at Trinity Church. The ancient traditions, gently blended with modern sensibilities... the sacred decorations on the walls, windows, arches... the candles, the standing, the sitting, the kneeling at the altar and being blessed. The symbolism of the service truly resonated through my soul and body as we, strangers and friends, made the collective, symbolic journey from darkness to light, death to life.

The next morning, at my own faith's Easter service (LDS), the volunteer choir performed many carefully and sincerely prepared songs, and a few different members of the congregation shared their thoughts and feelings on the season. The final hymn was for the entire congregation to sing. For some reason, I wanted to stand to sing it. I wanted to feel the notes of praise and reverence coming from deep within me. I looked over at Julia and could tell that she wanted to stand up too. So we did. We stood up and began to sing so loudly and so joyfully and motioned to Rachel, who was sitting between us and stood up too. Nobody else joined, though.

For several lines of the hymn, at least. Then, out of the blue, the stake president and one of the members of the bishopric who were sitting at the front of the chapel, facing everyone, stood up. Then the rest of the bishopric. I don't know why they did it, maybe because they didn't want us to feel like we were standing alone. Since they were standing, though, everyone else in the entire meeting stood up as well. Feeling, seeing everybody rising up around us, joining together in this familiar song, made me feel so much a part of this congregation, something I had not felt in an LDS congregation in so long. So many things (doubts, questions, struggles with gender roles or gay marriage and other "official positions") make me feel separate from these brothers and sisters. That is not the point, though, for anyone to feel alone or separate, but to become whole, as individuals, and unified, collectively. And I know others struggle with these same things, but for once I felt a beautiful sense of belonging and support. Standing together, whole, different, unified. This is Zion.

I hope that I may continue to allow emptiness, to allow myself to be filled. I hope that I may continue to see small glimpses of the face of love which leave me trembling and blessed.

Goals and a Song

Not sure if they're technically "New Years Resolutions," since I began them the second half of last month, but since it's the beginning of a new year, I guess I'll formally declare them.

1. Perform more active service for fellow human beings.
   
2. Trust more people to actually see ME and love me. I have had at least a couple close friends ask me questions like, "What makes you so special, so unique as to be unlovable?" There is no answer to that, so I see the problem is with self-perception.
   

I saw this movie on New Years Day with some siblings and friends. The soundtrack was pretty amazing. I will have to talk a little later about the actual movie, because my thoughts are still conglomerating. This song is from the first scene when the two little kids are running from the police because they were playing ball on the airport runway.

Some Songs

Some songs make you want to cry and dance. Both at once.

I just got to inquire

My sister and I went to sushi down the road several stops and were waiting to catch the trolley home. The stop is a small one, and at that part the road is pretty wide and dark and is flanked only by the semi-vacant stares of apartment buildings, no stores or restaurants. The street lights are dim and spaced further apart. When we arrived, there was nobody even there waiting. After a couple minutes a man and his little daughter had also arrived to wait.

We heard yelling and saw two men toss a third one out the front door of their apartment building onto the pavement and start beating him up. He tried to get up and they threw him back down.

I looked at Beth to see what we should do, but she did not know either.

The man called out to the father to help, but what could the father do? He had a daughter.

My sister and I and the father and the daughter all got on the train and left the man there to get beat up because we did not know what else we even could do except call the police. We arrived home to our apartment pretty shaken.

We had never known something like that to happen in our neighborhood.

***

The next evening I am running a little behind.

Even though you aren't supposed to do it, I am picking my way across the ballast, stepping over both sets of darkened trolley tracks. Avoiding headlights, I cross the main road, the narrow traffic island, then the parking/access street, finally reaching the far sidewalk, where I exchange brief grins with a somewhat older gentleman who ends up walking a couple paces behind me.

Up a few yards ahead, the shops are glowing, but here it is still a bit darker. I am a little nervous recalling the events of the previous night, nervous and - I am ashamed to admit - suddenly suspicious of this man whom I do not know.

I will definitely be fine in a couple moments, I remind myself.

Mid-whistle, I gasp. I hear the sound of something scrabbling, coming suddenly closer from behind. It is not the man, though, it is a rabid animal, a salivating raccoon ready to tear at my jugular with its tiny razor teeth and wild, wild eyes.

No, actually it is neither a man nor a beast. It is just a little punk-ass kid zipping by on a bicycle.

"Too fast" the man mutters, mostly to himself.

I resume walking and whistling, willing my heart to slow to its normal rhythm.

"Excuse me miss," I look over my shoulder. It is still that same man. "Excuse me miss, but I just got to inquire. What's got you whistlin' Dixie?"

"Ohhh... I don't know, I guess it was stuck in my head."

"I thought you must have had the most fantastic day or something."

"No my day wasn't really fantastic, just regular. It was pretty good. I was just whistling." Although it's pretty fantastic now.

A few more steps we go, past the Chinese food place with children's drawings papering the wall, not sure if we should put this conversation to rest. "Well you have a good night."

"Thanks. You too." He keeps going straight, but I have to turn the corner.

The experience the night before had me feeling a little worried, but now I remember that most of the people you will ever meet are actually really nice and good people and that most of the time I am just so glad to get the chance to talk to them or see them, even for only a couple minutes.


I just got to inquire!

Are We Human?

Oh. My. Gosh. I can NOT stop listening to it. I think I've already heard it THREE TIMES this morning.

Like the time I ate SEVENTEEN LOLLIPOPS.


I haven't felt this obsessed since... I don't know... Black Eyed Peas?

And I'm on my knees looking for the answer
Are we human?
Or are we dancer?

I Love...

...the eels. They can talk to me about everything important, sad, and beautiful.



I bet you are flying inside.

More Sissy

(Because 3M gets such a kick out of it):

Beth and I planned and recited the following conversation this morning.

me: Guess what song is playing!
Beth: (stirring oatmeal) Our favorite song in the NATION?
me: (poking head into the kitchen) Nay. In the WORLD!
both: bwahahaha

...which was inspired by a statement made by Beth involving something with "favorite song" and "nation" and "world," a statement which may or may not have included the word "nay," as evident from our discussions as I recorded the "original" conversation.

me: I said "nay."
Beth: No I said "nay."
me: No I said "nay."

Hmmm... beginning to see a pattern here. The song? "Come Sail Away" by Styx.

Local

Beth and I went to Allston street fair, and it was amazing.

We saw the local band Bad Ash, which had the #1 most sincerely awesome drummer in the nation, and all the hipsters showed up in their best skinny jeans with their largest gauge earrings and their trucker hats and suspenders and cigarettes.

Oh and we got free organic salad greens. Seriously now, what more could anyone ask for?