I haven’t posted in awhile, haven’t had much to say since the election that Trump won. Here’s one of the few songs that can give me hope, and it’s terrifyingly accurate for today’s news reports.
In these demon days, it’s so cold inside
You don’t get nobody, people sigh
It’s so bad, lasting far, but love yourself
Hiding in a hole in there
All the glasses are too big
Bring it back, got to hold it back
To let you do that yet you don’t want me back
Before it fall down, falling down falling down
Falling out to go far from the sun
In these demon days it’s so cold inside
So hard for a good soul to survive
You can’t even trust the air you breathe
Cause Mother Earth wants us all to leave
When lies become reality
You numb yourself with drugs and TV
Pick yourself up it’s a brand new day
So turn yourself round
Don’t burn yourself, turn yourself
Turn yourself around into the sun!
In these demon days it’s so cold inside
So hard for a good soul to survive
You can’t even trust the air you breathe
Cause Mother Earth wants us all to leave
When lies become reality
You numb yourself with drugs and TV
Pick yourself up it’s a brand new day
So turn yourself round
Don’t burn yourself, turn yourself
Turn yourself around into the sun!
On my favorites list since it was released, The Governess by Metric has a video that brings a lot of interesting visuals.
The beautiful desolation and desert backdrop is particularly timely.
The lyrics at the beginning of the song remind me of a scene from my favorite play, Cyrano de Bergerac, when he concocts an absurd tale to cover his true intentions of distraction and delay. If you haven’t read it, you should. All you need to know about love and honor and romance are right there.
Move update: we have picked our home and are waiting out the home mortgage process. If all goes well, we’ll get to move in on our youngest son’s birthday. CAN YOU IMAGINE?!?! #BlissingOut
Lyrics by http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/metric/thegoverness.html
The Governess by Metric
Who did you say you were?
I didn’t catch your name
Falling down to earth
Down from a higher plane
Oh, it’s been decades
Say, what did you see?
Oh, I’ve been so lonely
Won’t you keep me company?
Do you remember me?
We met out on the farm
By the fire, you spoke to me
And held me in your arms
The songs you played for me
I long to understand
All along the watchtower
And castles made of sand
When there was a wilderness, we wandered wild and free
Guilt, she is the governess that guides me back to grief
What if we were dumb enough to spend eternity
Gathering the garbage washed up on the beach?
Do you remember me?
We spoke by telephone
The bad connection had a meaning of its own.
Of all the good and all the stupid shit I’ve done
The worst was all for me
Not hurting anyone
When there was a wilderness, I wandered wild and free
Guilt, she is the governess that guides me back to grief
Wish that I was old enough to end the century
Gather all the garbage washed up on the beach
I almost texted PG with good news on Thursday night, swept up in excitement at choosing our next family home.
Then I realized he’d never read it. No matter how many distractions there are, it still hurts so much and just doesn’t seem real that he’s gone.
I would need PG’s gift of words to express how deeply Chooch and I miss him, especially as we start this new adventure of a life in New Mexico. In our favorites, we strategized about where to put our gaming lair and felt a stab knowing he’d never join us in it. At least, not in this dimension.
P.G. Holyfield wrote it and he was my friend.
Give it as a gift to someone that enjoys a good fantasy mystery. I can still picture the river of magic he describes.
Or donate a copy to your local library.
Or treat yourself and enjoy his rich world just for yourself.
There was supposed to be a vow renewal ceremony with our full family and closest friends. Then the guy that we long planned to officiate moved on to greater adventures, beyond this world.
Still, I really wish you were here, P.G. I know any words you’d haven given us would have been perfectly grumpy. And perfectly wonderful.
We figure he’d approve of our revised plan – saving vow renewal ceremony/reception money to spend instead on a spontaneous, bonding-heavy, anything goes vacation with our kids and family. We did that a few weeks ago, and I lost yet another wedding bond.
I have been using cheap fake wedding rings for years, since I lost my engagement ring. Big, chunky and silly, but very clearly representative of being married. The real deal is locked up. Fibromyalgia “fog” and medications to fight pain make my memory horrible. No matter how crucial the memory, I have no power over whether I retain it or not. It’s truly crushing sometimes.
So FINALLY, before this big hop from the Blue Ridge Mountains to the Sandia Mountains, we’ve ensured that I can’t lose my wedding ring again. The original will stay locked up and safe for the duration of the move. It’s perfect.
The design we settled on is a “rupee” (gem) found in the Nintendo game, Legend of Zelda. It’s outline-only, in dark purple. (Purple is my favorite color, and my skin grabs it nicely.) Plus, dodging black for now gives me more options later.
No, Chooch did not get one because he’s our financial provider and who knows when employers that can’t see beyond the exterior may come in to play?
But he designed it along with me, just like our original wedding rings. #DayJobSecurityFTW#FamilyLife#FamilyLove
Now, because it’s a finger tattoo, it will blur and muddy over time more than other tattoos, as is often reported. Since that news, it’s taken us years to decide on the design, deciding to embrace that imperfections inherent, rather than abandon it something we love.
With this in mind, wanting more than just the rupee itself, there are little dots and bigger dots making up a disconnected “band” below the stone.
Happily, over the years together, we’ll get to watch as the natural process of aging blurs the series of dots into a strong, solid yet imperfect band. The longer we live, the stronger our bond and our band, as has happened all this time. #ArmouringUp#EndingThisEra #StartingANewOne #Finally
Brace yourselves, kittens, Chooch has been officially notified of his reassignment to Albuquerque, NM, and his start date is October 2nd!!! The move will get us so much closer to Chooch’s 16 y.o. Son. (We haven’t made it to Cali yet, but we’re finally getting closer!) Added bonus? Along with Chooch’s Son, his Mom, Dad, Step-Mom, Sister and her Husband all live in the same area! Where we’ll live will actually be close enough for a road trip to soooo many beloved family members (and their babies!), including our own GrandSon Little Bear! We are so very happy, life’s gonna get so cute again! It should be a less-stressful position for Chooch, that we feel more fulfilling and less draining., and by all accounts (incl doctors), the region would hopefully improve how I feel with my health blahs. We don’t plan on living there forever, but we’re so very excited for this new adventure! Locals, we’re moving in mid to late September, which is VERY soon. We want to see as many people as we can while we prep to move and continue to purge down our items. If you want to gather before we move, please let me know. I’m hoping to do little gatherings to see as many as possible.
It’s a very big change, but with our resident middle son and our pup Kaylee going with us, we are BEYOND excited at this new adventure!
I got this in a fortune cookie the night before we got the big news!
EDITED with proper linkage. This is why I don’t get paid, folks. *deep curtsy*
My current earworm, hide the ad pop up for the lyrics, or scroll down and read them. (I know I share a lot of Metric songs, but I made sure, none have repeated. I don’t think 😉
And I’m speechless to say that my life is a damned embarrassment of riches, some days.
It’s so very humbling.
Thanks to all that keep my/our lives/life on the bright side.
Share love and life into the circle of love that surrounds you, and by Glob’s calculator, they will surround you, too.
It’s a big world, and I’m grateful that I was taught not to limit it, superficially (race, religion, gender identity, hair cut, boxers vs briefs).
My whole life, I’ve loved the idea of the melting pot, all of us coming together. But that’s not the reality.
I had to learn myself to limit the artificial, because it inevitably hides the darkest of depths that will cause harm to me and mine now that I’ve got a “delicate disposition” (GLOBDAMMIT.)
My heart aches for those lost from this existence, but they’ve made their mark on me, strengthening my empathy, teaching me that I’m worth loving and not to waste time on negativity. Love is all you need.
I’m currently focused on a project we are involved in thanks to our dear old PG. So many things I’m grateful to him for, but the Durham family is high on the list.
If you want info on the project, there’s this party tomorrow night, in Greenbelt, Md.No charge and you get to see James’ new indie short film, “Thirst.” Clicky linky for info on the Facebook Event page and pix that various folks on the cast and crew have been taking, including pix taken by me. It’s amped up my desire for my photo project in time for Balticon, but who knows? I’m still trying to get the anthology done.
Chooch’s shuffle-fu today has been fierce. We’re working on stuff and planning on stuff and waiting on stuff, and this song came on and stopped me cold.
It’s not my favorite era of David Bowie’s, and I didn’t even know I knew all of the lyrics until I found myself shout-singing along. And crying.
Somehow I thought he’d always be there to shake things up and break himself (and those of us along for the ride) out of whatever category people have relegated him (us) to, every decade or so.
I have not opened his final album yet. Too soon. I am still only encountering “Bowie in the wild,” via library shuffle or radio or movies. (Dear Gods I never realized how many movies used his music.)
For many reasons, it hit me really hard –I’m still in denial that our Ziggy Stardust is gone; personal stuff and goings on; and, did I mention I’m in denial that he’s gone?
I know when to go out
And when to stay in
Get things done [spoken]
I catch a paper boy
But things don’t really change
I’m standing in the wind
But I never wave bye-bye
But I try
I try
There’s no sign of life
It’s just the power to charm
I’m lying in the rain
But I never wave bye-bye
But I try
I try
Never gonna fall for
Modern Love
Walks beside me
Modern Love
Walks on by
Modern Love
Gets me to the Church on Time
Church on Time
Terrifies me
Church on Time
Makes me party
Church on Time
Puts my trust in God and Man
God and Man
No confessions
God and Man
No religion
God and Man
Don’t believe
in Modern Love
Grampy and Little Bear, on LB’s First Birthday in April in Texas.
First, the formatting on my WordPress stuff needs updating after things settle down. I’ve never changed it from the original lotus design from 2010. It looks like shite in the browser and the mobile too, I’m guessing.
I’m really struggling with overlay at the top of the post, so I’m dropping in this adorable snap of my wondrous second of husband Chooch Schubert and my magical GrandSon, Codename Little Bear, from his first birthday in April 2016, while visiting he and his parents in Texas and helping them move in to their own place.
Second, I’ve been reading through an intentionally broad spectrum of political/current event articles* as much as I can over recent months. Until recently, I followed all the candidates on Facebook, to ensure I understood the persona they had whipped up for us to vote for in the election.
I was reading what the lone red candidate posted along with what Bernie Sanders posted, and the other final half dozen or so, until they dropped out or until I gave up on them as a viable candidate. I now only follow Bernie and the other blue candidate.
I know all I want to know about that other candidate and I was left angry and sad, so I called “uncle” and don’t follow him anymore. *covers ears*closes eyes* You have no power over me. LA LA LA. Hopefully you never will. LALALA.
The tv news is annoyingly laced with opinions. I just want facts, simply told, so I started searching online when I could.
I think the biggest surprises was the number of articles applauding Baby Boomers (and older) for holding on to “traditional values” instead of becoming zombies like everyone younger than them has become in our wonderful country.
Hilarious, right?
The relevant articles vaguely point their fickle fingers of blame for society failures on younger citizens (65 or younger, I guess?) Nothing is actually reported, so the news items were incorrectly flagged. They were opinion pieces that were entirely effective in page interactions. In some cases, hundreds of comments on them, not counting facebook likes or shares.
To my eye, the more vague, the more comments of agreement it would get. As if, in my non-scientific, loopy newsing, the less specifics given, the more it was cheered.
Horrifying, right?
And as always. the true horrors of society lies in the misspells, missing words, exclamation marks, trailing ellipses everywhere instead of where they make sense, name calling, judgment, and a lack of responsibility and/or blame after being in charge for decades, right in the comments. As if 1 + 1 does not equal 2, almost. Many times, I downright struggled very hard to make sense of the twisting logic, even when my brain was clear.
They paint different pix of how badly we young’uns have destroyed the country they built. They call us zombies because we aren’t smart enough to do what they say anymore. I guess they aren’t getting the perks they used to get from us all, while we struggle to help younger generations in our own struggles?
In my very small sampling, our elders are being encouraged to mock the very children that they conceived when they banged without birth control; that they raised, and that they taught values; ethics; and parenting.
It’s been awhile, buuuut if biology works the way I remember, they raised us; they taught us ethics; we parent by their example, except for what we choose to improve/do differently due to #ChildhoodPTSDAmIRite? #EveryoneHasIt
Cause and effect, they taught us that, too.
And they laugh at us for turning out the way they, and society as a whole, taught us to be?
And then mock us for not listening to them? (ESCAPE CLAUSE: People planning to vote against environmental and economic interests of themselves and their children now makes sense to me, at least. We’ve been told, by our elders, to always respect your elders.)
I guess I’d feel hurt if I didn’t already know the info in the blog post / news article was discredited, if the comments were legible, and/or make sense, or if in any way they were they plausible in an realm of possibility.
It’s spin-control, or my brain is more than broken trying to logic it. Either way, I yield. Uncle. Tell yourself whatever you need to sleep at night. Because I don’t think any of it was/is intentional.
We’re all just winging it. Aren’t we? That’s the American Dream now, to survive with your baby chicks, without a net.
OF NOTE – I call bullshit on trying to distance myself from blame by pointing at the next generation. There are millions of pages for you to express that on, that will tremendously agree with you. Go there if you gotta bust on the 25-ish and unders. I delete without hesitation 😀
Translation, if this turns into more insults for “Millenials,” I may delete without comment.
Hypocritical? Sure.
But I don’t care. I’ve heard enough of it. They’re just trying to survive the world we’re giving them.
Instead, let’s take an honest look at the causes of what we face, take accountability (myself included) for the mess, learn from the mistakes of the people that have been voting and leading our country for the last bit of American history because of out-of-norms birth rate handing most decision-making to their whims.
I’m disappointed in myself and my own generation for not having improved things for future generations and I apologize often.
But where has any of that gotten us?
Simply read the news for that answer.
So come on, Gen X and younger.
Let’s enter this election with both feet.
Research.
Learn.
Determine long-term impacts, because we’re dying younger and younger we’re taking the planet with us. (My guess is due to short-term profits somewhere.)
Decide for yourself what makes sense to your life as an American Citizen, because you can’t just move to Canada.They know we made this mess, and they won’t take us. (They have standards, too.)
If you are a parent, you are compelled to be more vigilant to protect the country that you’ll leave to your child.
If you’re a grandparent, you are doubly accountable.
Spread the word, respectfully.
Don’t waste your time on trolls.
Whether people agree with you or not, hopefully they’ll become engaged.
Not everyone in your life should be friended with you in Facebook.
Also, don’t end relationships that you wouldn’t have ended in real life over a political or religious difference in social media.
If someone else does it to you, don’t waste any tears, it’s to your benefit. Every time.
And always remember and never forget —- we get the government we deserve.
Especially if you don’t vote.
So, you know, vote.
Peace.
*Blogs, online “news” sites, and newspaper articles over the last few weeks. I have no links to cite because I ended up rage quitting and won’t go through history for them. Why? Cuz this is my opinion blog and nothing else. #Neener
Besides, I learned quickly to read via incognito because it was impacting my Bacon/Spam/Whatever in a disturbing way.
Cradle to grave, every day of my life I’m a pacifist. But today I’m a Puscifist, thanks to Chooch sharing a new fave song.
I keep things on the bright side and assume the best of people I meet, regardless of their reputation. It often results in great times and greater friendships. But I’m also often mistaking people wanting something from me as being the beginning, or continuation, of a true friendship. I won’t let clown shoes change my attitude, zero bad apples will change my hope in humanity.
But today, I less than three Puscifer soooo hard for again making sense of my confusion (and hurt and misrepresentations of me and others, resulting in feelings of shame and guilt) and giving it a voice.
I have such a hard time giving up on people, no matter how shitty they treat me or lie or use passive aggression like a weapon, knowing that it cuts me deeper than most because of my neurological challenges.
Once in my heart, always in my heart, sadly.
But I’m working on it since it’s plain stupid and is keeping me depleted and unable to explore beneficial possibilities.
At the very least, I’m “untethering” from the ones that are detrimental to my health/stress.
So, things to remember with me…
…just because the lies or harsh words aren’t knives or bullets, they still cut deeply and/or can bleed for a long time;
…just because you didn’t say it to my face, it doesn’t mean I don’t know;
…just because I’ve kept your secrets so far, know that your treatment of me and mine can change that;
…just because I’ve taken the high road, it doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten how different our morals are;
…just because I stood by you in dark times, it doesn’t mean I will tolerate childish punishments for being a reminder of those same times;
…just because I’m above smacking your face, don’t mistake me for being weak.
I had a really long rant about stuff I didn’t get to do or can’t do. Actually just a list of stuff I can’t do, along with bitching and complaints only slightly above a child’s tantrum. I deleted it because while it’s true but really about something else. This time I caught it the night before, first time ever.
It’s pre-Mother’s Day letdown and I’m missing my Mom. She remains unmatched as the greatest teacher, cheerleader, disciplinarian, role model, muse, bar-setter, inspiration, square-in-the-ass kicker, then-unknown-filter, unabashed critic and unrelenting fan that I ever had or will have, because it was only possible from her, because she was uniquely MY Mom. It’s strange, but she must be different, I think, from my brother’s Mom or my Sister’s Mom, even. Different ages and experience levels (since we weren’t born triplets as triplets, but rather, over 12 years span) mean we had different versions of her growing as we did.
What I do know from my experience is that there’s no “*ding* You’re A Parent Now,” stage. You constantly learn and evolve, and I’m so very grateful for the version of her that I had, although I miss one or two aspects my siblings had. But that’s how things go, and I really wouldn’t change a moment with her. (Or against her, we had some doozy fights, dontchaknow!)
But lately, it’s getting harder and harder when I see her in the mirror and hear her voice come out of my mouth. I literally startle, sometimes, although I’ve heard that I look like her my entire life and should be used to it. I look like her, but I can’t do things like I used to, or like she used to, so it’s like a bait and switch. I keep having to lower expectations on myself, which then makes me see disappointment, which makes me feel like shit. It’s a fun cycle, all just because I looked in the mirror and remember her and all she did.
It makes me reflect on relationships and their resulting status. Am I too much of a reminder of her to some? I mean, I am for myself, so why not? And is that a larger version of what’s happened in other unrelated, now-dead relationships? Do I remind them of someone or some thing that has changed? I’m finding that standing by people during their darkest times means you sometimes get associated and cast out with it. I’m praying I haven’t done that to anyone that sincerely wanted to continue a genuine relationship, in a way that takes me as I am today, not how I was 30 or 20 or 10 or 5 years ago. Or how they expect me to be.
And in spite of our best efforts, we still live too far from hubby’s Mom to be able to dump my excess love on her like a confetti and glitter glue eruption. And now our daughter-in-law lives 2,000 miles away, so same thing there.
So I fill the time with making plans and planting fun things on the path ahead to make the now seem less dark with that fun that shimmering, just ahead. And then I find myself overwhelmed again with details and a sense of failure, even if it was a success.So for those that have a muse, be kind to her. It sucks when your brain is always working and putting out ideas for other people to use and claim, the only downside being we have no real sense of accomplishment. If the two things seem unrelated, please attribute it to the influence of my Mom, constantly in motion, constantly on the prowl for something to make another person smile.
Cyber hugs and love to all those that are missing her, a parent or loved one as we try to survive the milestone/reminder in one piece. I think this is the 10th without Mom, but so much crumbled since then, I don’t think I want to know for sure. If it’s your first, know that there is a special prayer I will make to my special angel. In my experience, the first is the worst. I couldn’t even really feel it then, I was in so many pieces, even as a grown-ass woman.
Mom loved my enough during her life to last me a lifetime, and is still carrying me through dark times, just like I said they would. And her fiery spirit lives on in me, her other children and her Grandkids. There’s even some sass that looks familiar from the Great-grandkids, which is downright delightful.
