I don't have anything to write about today. But... I am sick at home and feeling pensive, and as Dumbledore had his pensieve to sort things out, so I have my little website. ;) of course, the fact that I don't have anything to write about will probably mean this one will be longer than usual. Yep.
Found a place to live. I'm starting to feel rather portable. Three moves in twelve months may be a bit below average for some nomadic tribes, but c'mon, can a sister get a break? It's official: my landlady looks like a normal person, but in actuality, she is the angel of death. No roommate for me allowed beyond May, making another move a necessity. Which is a shame. I'd stay in this apt. all year if I could afford it. It's like springtime and daisies and the opening chords of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous". However, the upside to all this is that two of my fabulous friends are looking for a new place in May as well and have asked me to accompany them. I suppose I'd gladly give this place up if it means living with them. Even if it does mean I'll probably have to move back to Point Loma. retch! uh I mean, I love it!
Last night I dreamed that Sam was dead, and that I went on a search to find his killer. Today, he calls me. Isn't that funny how we dream of someone, or think about how we haven't seen them in a long time, and then that person calls you up out of the blue, or you run into them in the grocery store or something. At least I know he's not dead, my little Spaminacan.
Mysteries. It's one of life's little mysteries that I (and many others) cannot do jack on a project unless I'm under some kind of deadline. The project in actuality may mean a lot to me, but somehow I still have trouble motivating myself, expecially these days. With that in mind, I've started to reserve some time each week to work on my book. I have a title picked out, three or four vignettes in rough stages, and I've begun to carry a notebook with me nearly everywhere in case I think of an observation or phrase I'd like to hang onto. I haven't done much with my writing that didn't involve lyrics in a long, long, time, so it feels great to do this, like I'm going back to my roots. Contrary to popular belief, I didn't grow up dreaming about becoming a singer. I was always a writer. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but what would we measure the worth of pictures with if not with words? Ooo hey, that's pretty good... (gets out notebook) ;)
Of course, the music is ever-present. And that, I need no self-imposed deadline for. I've been asked to play an acoustic show at Starbucks by my manager in the near future. It's not a for sure thing yet, since she needs to check with our DM to make sure it's ok, but of course I said sure. It's been a long time since I played a show, so I'm a little nervous, expecially since they're looking for such a long set. Gotta break out the covers looks like. Who woulda thought I'd play at Starbucks. 23 and already a corporate sellout, natch. At least if we get robbed again during my set I have a ready weapon to knock him on the head with. KAPOW!
Switchfoot. New album in a word: excellent. Catchy. Inspiring. A pleasing romp. Concert should be excellent. Must pop the CD in the car again immediately so as to have all songs memorized by concert time tomorrow!
Idea: Why don't they get Gandalf to play Dumbledore in the new Harry Potter movies? Most everyone already thinks they're the same person anyway. :)
no five things this time, but.
1. Happy 21st Birthday
2. to my dear friend Danica Elise Mirrasoul
3. who has stuck by me through crazy times
4. and who I have so much fun laughing with.
5. You are a true friend. Happy legality! :D
What's in my CD player this week? (like you care) Fighting Jacks - "The Inside Trade Agreement", Me- Interstate Love Songs vol.2, Switchfoot - "The Beautiful Letdown", Ani DiFranco - "Revelling", Counting Crows- "August and Everything After", Chevelle - "Wonder What's Next"
Love in the face of fear. Love is a funny thing. I think I convince myself sometimes that I've come to believe there are people you can love too much for your own good. It's too intense to ever be something good, I say, because either they don't return your feelings, which of course sucks, or they do, and then I suppose you'd just sit around staring at each other with food congealing in front of you or something. Maybe we have to find someone we think we can live with, but that doesn't rip our heart out every time we look at them. Maybe that's the idea. I'm gritting my teeth just writing this down. No, I don't think I believe that. The teeth know. That kind of love, though, it changes you. It can make your heart bigger or smaller, and you are looked in the face with that choice every time a love like that feels impossible, which it almost certainly will. It can make you want to lay your heart beautifully bare one moment and clamp your hands over your ears and turn yourself into a burning block of ice the next. I guess what I'm wondering is, is this kind of love, true love? I think it's safe to say that Shakespeare certainly thought so. He once described true love as feeling "like a sickness and its cure together." "The course of true love never did run smooth", he also said. He knew this kind of love intimately. Sometimes I think we see someone's true self, who they're meant to be, better at the beginning of a relationship. This is supposedly when people have their vision clouded with euphoria, but can we really say that we see "the true person" better later under the harsh light of cynicism? After we've dissected them like a frog, picked out all the ugly parts to examine and decide whether they are things we can live with? We stop seeing each other's good hearts, we stop being eager to do anything for the one we're with, and the complexities set in. Self-preservation is ALWAYS the greatest enemy of love, because its root is ALWAYS fear. Fear is a deadener. It is an evil creeper that will pollute our focus and our peace and that we must always consciously keep at bay. I once saw a survey wherein Americans named loneliness as the number one problem they struggle with. So, in a world where isolation from each other is becoming an overwhelming problem, why deaden ourselves further? Why do we become uncomfortable in the face of strong emotion when the honest quality in it, at least, should be prized? Emotion is not ok here, and we have a country full of lonely individuals as a result. It has made so many of us dishonest gameplayers simply in an effort to be loved! Those of us who have been slammed by love have an advantage in this (and honestly, who hasn't been slammed by it?). We know how it feels to FEEL. We have the chance to let our hearts grow larger through the fear. We are called to love, to put ourselves out there completely again and again and again. If we don't, we'll have a little less to give every time we get close to someone. There is no excuse for fear. And more, we are called to protect each other from the things that create that fear, to take care of each other, to see and believe in each other's good hearts that we know are there above all else. To hang onto that iron-clad belief, and to know that you will get hurt from it every time. It will be hard work. It will take tremendous faith and constant prayer and reminders. It will feel impossible, and there will always be people who will think you're a big weak dope and question your motives for doing it. But to do it anyway. We must love fiercely. Always. Like lions.
Quote of the Week: "I have found to be true the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love." -Mother Teresa
© March 29, 2003 by me.