Here's the thing about Stevie Nicks, and I apologize if I have posted anything resembling this statement before, but narratively, her songs make no sense. She changes tenses in the middle of a verse, switches from third to first person, mixes her pronouns, and uses incomplete phrases. Which is why it makes absolutely no sense that I love her music so much. I am such a stickler for grammar and continuity within a story, and tense and person changes are major no-nos. On the other hand, one thing that is so cool about Stevie's stuff is how so many of her songs are connected lyrically, which does create continuity within her entire body of work, and I love that fact. She uses the same characters sometimes in multiple songs, and she will repeat a phrase in one song that she used years before in another, or change it ever so slightly to where you still recognize it as a lyric from a previous song. Here's an example:
from "Illume", on Fleetwood Mac's Say You Will
I like the coastal cities
I like the lights...
I like the way the ocean blends
Into the city at night
Like living on a working river
This coastline is glittering
Like a diamond snake
In a black sky
from "Destiny Rules", on Fleetwood Mac's Say You Will
I like the coastal cities, I like the lights
I like the way the city blends into the ocean at night
It's like living on a working river; the coastline is glittering
Like a diamond snake in a black sky
The first song is about 9/11, and I think that serves as a fantastic description of New York City.
Another lyric cross-reference example:
from "Blue Lamp", from the soundtrack to the movie Heavy Metal
Downstairs the big old house is mine
Upstairs where the stars still laugh and they shine
Downstairs where the big old house is mine
Outside where the stars still laugh and
Stars still laugh and shine
And the stars still laugh and cry and shine
And the stars still laugh and cry and shine
And the stars still laugh and shine and shine
from "Welcome to the Room...Sara", from Fleetwood Mac's Tango in the Night
Ooh, downstairs where the
Big old house is mine
Ooh, upstairs where the
Stars laugh and shine
Oh, Oh well I thought that
You were mine
Well I thought that
You were mine
The first two songs are from the same album, but the other two came years apart. Kinda cool. I think, anyway. I got all of the lyrics from The Nicks Fix, btw.
The reason I mentioned Stevie Nicks is that I was listening to some music last night before bed and was wishing I could write songs. Actually I was listening to The Judds. Other songwriters wrote most of their stuff as far as I know, but they did some great songs with really fantastic lyrics. In my life, I have been touched so much by song lyrics, and can really express my emotion much better through the lyrics of others than I can with my own words. I suppose I should try songwriting again. When I did it before, I was in high school, so the lyrics were sort of lame. But I'm a little older and wiser now, so maybe, just maybe I have a shot at not sucking at it this time around.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Kim Zolciak ruined my life.
I just heard Kim Zolciak (from one of those fucking Real Housewives shows) perform her song "Google Me" on Bravo..."LIVE"! That woman's face is busted, her weave is busted, and her voice is so busted I was ready to physically injure myself just to not have to listen to one more second of her "singing". And you know what? I just let Zolciak fucking win by using her damn name so many times. This blog entry may even show up in a fucking Google search of Kim Zolciak now. I am perpetuating this horrible cycle!
Oh, and Zolciak? You don't "click" keys, you idiot!
Oh, and Zolciak? You don't "click" keys, you idiot!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Cherilyn Sarkesian...yes bitches, I know her real name.
When you forget for a minute that Cher is about 83% plastic, she actually can look quite good, especially for her age. Check out this picture: http://dlisted.com/node/39706/images/spl228084_038.jpg Cher and her mother both look twenty years younger than they are. It's amazing. There are more pictures below as well, including a couple with Cher's son Chaz.
Cher has been getting some flack in the press lately for forgetting to call Chaz "him". I say, give the woman a break. Having a transgender child has to be complicated, famous or no. Cher had a daughter named Chastity for 40 years. You can't just immediately remember to say Chaz instead of Chastity and he instead of she after 40 years. She's still adjusting to the change. Plus, the woman's 64 for crying out loud. You can't expect her mind to cooperate all the time.
People should also give her a break because she's fucking Cher. If Cher came up to me and called me Fido and tried to pet me like a dog, I would let her. Because she's Cher.
Cher has been getting some flack in the press lately for forgetting to call Chaz "him". I say, give the woman a break. Having a transgender child has to be complicated, famous or no. Cher had a daughter named Chastity for 40 years. You can't just immediately remember to say Chaz instead of Chastity and he instead of she after 40 years. She's still adjusting to the change. Plus, the woman's 64 for crying out loud. You can't expect her mind to cooperate all the time.
People should also give her a break because she's fucking Cher. If Cher came up to me and called me Fido and tried to pet me like a dog, I would let her. Because she's Cher.
Monday, November 15, 2010
What now?
It would be nice if we could all live our lives the same way that a dog or a cat does: we eat, we sleep, we hump things, and eventually we die. We have no goals or ambitions, no fears (other than the natural fear of creatures that are larger than ourselves), and no plans. All we'd need is sustenance and occasional affection. We would never expect anything, or have hopes and dreams that could be shattered. We'd just exist, and be content with what we could get.
I've been trying to figure out my next step. I'm not getting any closer to the future I have pictured in my head, and I need to figure out which path will get me closer to that picture. I honestly don't know what I want to do. I've always seen myself in a creative career. I'm driven emotionally and have a flair for the abstract. If you had asked me ten years ago where I would be at 25, I would have said I'd be a film actress, or a novelist, or at the very least a mother. I'm not any of those things, nor is it likely that I will be. But if I can't be those things, is it that much to ask that I at least am in a career related to the things I'm interested in?
No one I ask for advice has anything optimistic to say about the options I've mentioned. It has been suggested that I get my MBA, but then I'd still be doing something I consider to be routine, a run-of-the-mill job. Am I giving myself and my creative abilities too much credit? Or do people just not see me as someone with enough drive to succeed in a highly competitive and objective market?
I've been trying to figure out my next step. I'm not getting any closer to the future I have pictured in my head, and I need to figure out which path will get me closer to that picture. I honestly don't know what I want to do. I've always seen myself in a creative career. I'm driven emotionally and have a flair for the abstract. If you had asked me ten years ago where I would be at 25, I would have said I'd be a film actress, or a novelist, or at the very least a mother. I'm not any of those things, nor is it likely that I will be. But if I can't be those things, is it that much to ask that I at least am in a career related to the things I'm interested in?
No one I ask for advice has anything optimistic to say about the options I've mentioned. It has been suggested that I get my MBA, but then I'd still be doing something I consider to be routine, a run-of-the-mill job. Am I giving myself and my creative abilities too much credit? Or do people just not see me as someone with enough drive to succeed in a highly competitive and objective market?
Thursday, November 4, 2010
weird dreams
Someone once told me that they would swear I do acid because of all of the bizarre dreams I have. Last night's may have been my strangest yet.
Last night I had this dream that I was apparently best friends with Will Truman and Grace Adler (from Will & Grace, obvs), because we all lived together. There was a blackmail plot involving the kidnapping of Mel Gibson, and it was up to me to find him. I was given this phone number and told that the person that would answer this call would be the one to give me the first clue to finding him. When I called, Barbara Eden answered. We talked for less than two minutes, but I got the information that I needed to take the next step to finding Mel. Unfortunately, she worked in a brothel, and the line I called was some sort of phone sex line. Will got really pissed at me because they charged $600 a minute for calling this line and I was running on his dime. So I apologized profusely and explained the kidnapping, but he still wasn't happy that I had to call this whorehouse in order to get my first clue.
I can understand the Will & Grace part. I've been watching that show a lot lately. But Barbara Eden in a brothel? And why in the name of all that is holy would I give a shit about finding Mel Gibson?
I sincerely apologize to Barbara Eden for dreaming that she was a prostitute.
Last night I had this dream that I was apparently best friends with Will Truman and Grace Adler (from Will & Grace, obvs), because we all lived together. There was a blackmail plot involving the kidnapping of Mel Gibson, and it was up to me to find him. I was given this phone number and told that the person that would answer this call would be the one to give me the first clue to finding him. When I called, Barbara Eden answered. We talked for less than two minutes, but I got the information that I needed to take the next step to finding Mel. Unfortunately, she worked in a brothel, and the line I called was some sort of phone sex line. Will got really pissed at me because they charged $600 a minute for calling this line and I was running on his dime. So I apologized profusely and explained the kidnapping, but he still wasn't happy that I had to call this whorehouse in order to get my first clue.
I can understand the Will & Grace part. I've been watching that show a lot lately. But Barbara Eden in a brothel? And why in the name of all that is holy would I give a shit about finding Mel Gibson?
I sincerely apologize to Barbara Eden for dreaming that she was a prostitute.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
It may take a long time, but it gets better.
I haven't actually watched any of the "It Gets Better" videos. I should. But now that I don't have Flash on my work computer and am very rarely online anywhere else, I just haven't made the time. I think these videos are a great idea, and it's sad that so many young people had to take their own lives for the world to take notice.
I just read Patton Oswalt's "It Gets Better" blog. What he said really resonated with me, mainly because I have been on both sides of the fence, just as he was. I really don't like to talk about the hot button issues in most cases. I'm not very eloquent, and I am led completely by emotion, so I tend to get heated or upset when I talk about things that I feel any sort of passion for. But bullying is something that really strikes a chord with me. It's something that has followed me as long as I can remember.
My life was pretty normal until about the age of 9. I had endured slight teasing from relatives as a child (their way of showing that they "cared"), but I had a happy childhood up until that point. Then my uncle died in a car accident and everything changed. Mainly, I see my life as two parts at this point: before Ace died, and after. After he died, I changed because everything around me changed. Fifth grade was just awkward. I got glasses, I was going through a lot of physical changes, and I was trying to fit in at school as well as dealing with my family's massive grief. When I went to sixth grade, I made a lot of new friends. But I was hanging out with people who did things I didn't do: curse, smoke, do drugs, have sex. I felt really out of place. I learned how to use my words at that point. Most of the words I used were to make me sound tougher, saltier. I became acquainted with one of my dearest friends to this day, sarcasm, and I threw around curse words like nobody's business. Boys started paying attention to me at that point. Or maybe it was I who started paying attention to them. I often used sarcasm, and still do, as a defense mechanism. I'm sure at some point I hurt someone else by doing this, because I used my sarcasm to deflect the insults of others. My avoidance of pain likely caused some pain of its own.
Middle school was when things started to get harder. I was playing sports and trying to do things to make me seem cooler, but on the inside I was completely insecure. Some of the people I befriended used me. They saw how sweet and naive I was and would be my friend when it was convenient for them, then run and talk about me behind my back (this I found out after the fact). Our lockers were arranged by grade, then alphabetically, so I was privileged to be in the presence of someone who made my life miserable for two years. Ben insulted me because he liked me, but I took it all to heart. He called me Big Riggs (which in retrospect is hilarious because he was probably three times my size, though I was smaller then), he would close my locker while I was trying to get in it; he would run up behind me after math class and kick me in the ass, then run away laughing. I hated him. One morning at our lockers he harassed me so heavily that I broke down into tears and slapped him to get him to go away.
Middle school was also when my unique interests began to blossom. I had always been into pop culture, especially classic film and television, for as long as I could remember. It all grew out of the influences of my parents' interests, but my interests took on a life of their own. By freshman year of high school, I was a full-blown weirdsmobile. (I spent lunches my eighth grade year discussing the virtues of Bette Midler and Meryl Streep, and talked a friend of mine into taking home the new Bette Midler album Bathhouse Betty, which she called weird.) One of my main torturers in high school was someone that was in my circle of friends, a highly intelligent girl who had no ambition or drive, and was still struggling through community college last I heard. Meghann and I were in choir together, both first sopranos so we were around each other a lot, especially our freshman and sophomore years. She confided her sexual exploits in me (and probably anyone who would listen, honestly), and I thought she was my friend. But she insulted me constantly, and also insulted celebrities I had an affinity for just because she knew it bothered me. Sometimes even one of my best friends would jump in on this one. Meghann would throw out these insults and then laugh about it right in front of my face. I had never done anything to her to deserve this treatment. Even though I thought she was a disgusting fat pig with no moral standards, I respected her enough to let her live her life the way she chose without ever offering my own commentary or advice. Meghann made me feel awful about myself. I was worse than dirt to her. And when my friends were around her, she rubbed off on them, and they worked to make me feel like shit too. Although it was my quirks that people mocked me for, the humiliation I felt only made me seclude myself more.
Thankfully, it was life after high school that freed me. I had a few saving graces in high school (my tried and true friend Jade, who has always been there for me; chorus; Mrs. Vivian Elder, my senior English teacher, who was the first adult to treat me with the respect of a peer and to show me that my opinions had value), but it was being out in the adult world that really allowed me to be myself unabashedly. I got a job, where I was surrounded by women of different ages who all valued me, and I them. I was accepted into the University of Kentucky and moved to Lexington, which was like starting life all over again. And each year of my life since high school has been better and better. I've met so many wonderful people who not only accept me for who I am, but embrace my strangeness. Some have even liked me more simply because of my uniqueness, which is something I only dreamed of in high school. Although I am still plagued by insecurities I developed growing up, I have changed considerably, and I know that with each year I become more confident in my own abilities.
Life is only what you make it. Things get better if you let them. There are people out there who will love you for who you are. It may take a while to find them, but they're out there. Self-expression is so important to maintain your sanity. Find something that you can find joy in, and if that's the only thing you have, cling to it. Youth is all about survival, and if you can make it out with your sanity, no matter how you have to maintain it, then that's what's important. The rest will follow.
I just read Patton Oswalt's "It Gets Better" blog. What he said really resonated with me, mainly because I have been on both sides of the fence, just as he was. I really don't like to talk about the hot button issues in most cases. I'm not very eloquent, and I am led completely by emotion, so I tend to get heated or upset when I talk about things that I feel any sort of passion for. But bullying is something that really strikes a chord with me. It's something that has followed me as long as I can remember.
My life was pretty normal until about the age of 9. I had endured slight teasing from relatives as a child (their way of showing that they "cared"), but I had a happy childhood up until that point. Then my uncle died in a car accident and everything changed. Mainly, I see my life as two parts at this point: before Ace died, and after. After he died, I changed because everything around me changed. Fifth grade was just awkward. I got glasses, I was going through a lot of physical changes, and I was trying to fit in at school as well as dealing with my family's massive grief. When I went to sixth grade, I made a lot of new friends. But I was hanging out with people who did things I didn't do: curse, smoke, do drugs, have sex. I felt really out of place. I learned how to use my words at that point. Most of the words I used were to make me sound tougher, saltier. I became acquainted with one of my dearest friends to this day, sarcasm, and I threw around curse words like nobody's business. Boys started paying attention to me at that point. Or maybe it was I who started paying attention to them. I often used sarcasm, and still do, as a defense mechanism. I'm sure at some point I hurt someone else by doing this, because I used my sarcasm to deflect the insults of others. My avoidance of pain likely caused some pain of its own.
Middle school was when things started to get harder. I was playing sports and trying to do things to make me seem cooler, but on the inside I was completely insecure. Some of the people I befriended used me. They saw how sweet and naive I was and would be my friend when it was convenient for them, then run and talk about me behind my back (this I found out after the fact). Our lockers were arranged by grade, then alphabetically, so I was privileged to be in the presence of someone who made my life miserable for two years. Ben insulted me because he liked me, but I took it all to heart. He called me Big Riggs (which in retrospect is hilarious because he was probably three times my size, though I was smaller then), he would close my locker while I was trying to get in it; he would run up behind me after math class and kick me in the ass, then run away laughing. I hated him. One morning at our lockers he harassed me so heavily that I broke down into tears and slapped him to get him to go away.
Middle school was also when my unique interests began to blossom. I had always been into pop culture, especially classic film and television, for as long as I could remember. It all grew out of the influences of my parents' interests, but my interests took on a life of their own. By freshman year of high school, I was a full-blown weirdsmobile. (I spent lunches my eighth grade year discussing the virtues of Bette Midler and Meryl Streep, and talked a friend of mine into taking home the new Bette Midler album Bathhouse Betty, which she called weird.) One of my main torturers in high school was someone that was in my circle of friends, a highly intelligent girl who had no ambition or drive, and was still struggling through community college last I heard. Meghann and I were in choir together, both first sopranos so we were around each other a lot, especially our freshman and sophomore years. She confided her sexual exploits in me (and probably anyone who would listen, honestly), and I thought she was my friend. But she insulted me constantly, and also insulted celebrities I had an affinity for just because she knew it bothered me. Sometimes even one of my best friends would jump in on this one. Meghann would throw out these insults and then laugh about it right in front of my face. I had never done anything to her to deserve this treatment. Even though I thought she was a disgusting fat pig with no moral standards, I respected her enough to let her live her life the way she chose without ever offering my own commentary or advice. Meghann made me feel awful about myself. I was worse than dirt to her. And when my friends were around her, she rubbed off on them, and they worked to make me feel like shit too. Although it was my quirks that people mocked me for, the humiliation I felt only made me seclude myself more.
Thankfully, it was life after high school that freed me. I had a few saving graces in high school (my tried and true friend Jade, who has always been there for me; chorus; Mrs. Vivian Elder, my senior English teacher, who was the first adult to treat me with the respect of a peer and to show me that my opinions had value), but it was being out in the adult world that really allowed me to be myself unabashedly. I got a job, where I was surrounded by women of different ages who all valued me, and I them. I was accepted into the University of Kentucky and moved to Lexington, which was like starting life all over again. And each year of my life since high school has been better and better. I've met so many wonderful people who not only accept me for who I am, but embrace my strangeness. Some have even liked me more simply because of my uniqueness, which is something I only dreamed of in high school. Although I am still plagued by insecurities I developed growing up, I have changed considerably, and I know that with each year I become more confident in my own abilities.
Life is only what you make it. Things get better if you let them. There are people out there who will love you for who you are. It may take a while to find them, but they're out there. Self-expression is so important to maintain your sanity. Find something that you can find joy in, and if that's the only thing you have, cling to it. Youth is all about survival, and if you can make it out with your sanity, no matter how you have to maintain it, then that's what's important. The rest will follow.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Bette. HBO. Heaven.
Sorry to cut the last post kind of short. While I was in the midst of trying to make that post, I found out some fucking outstanding news, so it distracted me from my money woes. Not a bad thing, right?
Ever since Bette Midler opened her show in Las Vegas, The Showgirl Must Go On, in February of 2008, all of her fans were wondering if/when this show was coming to DVD. After all, Bette's last live DVD was from 1993's Experience the Divine tour (which is only available in Region 2, boo). While it has been said before that the DVD is not happening, Bette announced on Martha Stewart's TV show today that HBO will be airing a Showgirl concert special on New Year's Eve. This is great news, because Bette's HBO specials in the past have always been released on some form of visual media (usually video, which was ages ago). I am ecstatic over this. I was not able to go see Showgirl in person, so this is my chance to see it finally! The only news I could receive that would be better than this would be that Bette's 2000 sitcom was being released on DVD. Now if that ever happens, I think I will literally keel over.
Ever since Bette Midler opened her show in Las Vegas, The Showgirl Must Go On, in February of 2008, all of her fans were wondering if/when this show was coming to DVD. After all, Bette's last live DVD was from 1993's Experience the Divine tour (which is only available in Region 2, boo). While it has been said before that the DVD is not happening, Bette announced on Martha Stewart's TV show today that HBO will be airing a Showgirl concert special on New Year's Eve. This is great news, because Bette's HBO specials in the past have always been released on some form of visual media (usually video, which was ages ago). I am ecstatic over this. I was not able to go see Showgirl in person, so this is my chance to see it finally! The only news I could receive that would be better than this would be that Bette's 2000 sitcom was being released on DVD. Now if that ever happens, I think I will literally keel over.
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