The shame, and all

Its a shame to be sort of lazy
sort of really low energy-
sort of no interest in helping-
it really is a shame.

I should pull myself up
by the imaginary bootstraps
force myeslf into a coat
and push myself out the door

I could combat these accusations

I should slap myself into wakefulness
stuff a book between my fingers
demand attention from my brain
and bloodflow from my heart

And combat these accusations

Becaues it really is a shame to be sort of lazy-
no, it really is, because lazy people do nothing
they have nothing to offer-
because they dont' really bother with anything-
they're lazy, you know.

I've always thought it a shame.
But that's about as far as I ever thought about it,
the shame and all.
because I never quite have been able
to pull and force and push
and slap and stuff and demand
my body into submission

Yes, it really is a shame to be lazy.
I cannot combat these accusations.


copywrite 2009

Happy Christmas

Kevin told me that if he was manager he'd get me in trouble for writing "Merry Christmas" instead of "happy holidays" on the customer's bills when they finish eating. I told him I wasn't forcing them to do anything, and if they wanted to get mad and take it out of my tip, so be it.

I've never been a big christmassy person. Never hugely excited over the season, I hate the cold and I hate the pressure and rules that come with it. Presents for Uncles and Aunts you ONLY see on holidays, who who have absolutely everything you could ever want? Who thought up that tradition?

In my darkest days (ahem, the last, ahem, couple of years) I annouced viciously that I hated Christmas. That isn't true, and it never was. The idea of christmas is absolutely lovely. It's just what happened to it. Now I have relaxed a little, I don't make a fuss over the pressures and stress and announce my dislike. Its still not a favorite of mine, though. Maybe someday it will be. I look forward to then.

Being that I'm not fond of the season, I'm also not fond of the radio replaying the same ten christms ditties over and over and over and over and OVER! It always drives me crazy. I mean, really, the FIRST rendition of "Rockin' Round the Christmas Tree" was enough! My whole family loves it, though, so I heard it 234 times, like usual.

However, there are a few songs in honor of christmas that really move me. I the beautiful ones honoring God's gift to mankind. I still appreciate that.

Here's a special one, never overplayed, about the first christmas. I learned it on guitar and played it for our relatives last year, everyone was touched. I hope you are too.

The Angels Cried.

Merry Christmas.

Song Of The Day

Gracie

By

Ben Folds

Ben Folds is an absolutely fascinating person. Very, very strange, yes; but fascinating. His music is creative and original, blending curious lyrics with catchy piano. He's one of the most brilliant songwriters I know.

Gracie is just one of his many superb songs, written about his little daughter. It really touches me. Unfortunately, Ben has been married multiple times (Hopefully he has not yet divorced his fourth...), so the beauty of him and his wife watching little Gracie grow is rather messed up for me.

Still, this is a great song. Enjoy. If you like it, I can recommend others!

Gracie

Disturbed

So, here I go again, taking things internally.

I have seen a picture, and it is torturing me.

I always browse through the style section of a newspaper, because there is where all the information about people and arts are. One picture jumped out at me. I couldn't look away from it, but then again I couldn't stand to look at it.

There were several pictures, all distressing. This is the mildest one...The rest were even more grotesque.

What is it about this girl that makes her so fascinating and disgusting? Its just mud on a face and a bloody mouth. But no, something about the distress in her eyes and her partially open mouth is just crushing to me.

This, I see, and I do not get out. It follows me and stays with me. I want to talk to the girl. I want to talk to the artist. I want to understand. Why? Why represent such a horrible image? What is in her mind? What is it about it I am so absolutely fascinated to? Why so eye catching?

I apologize if this gives anyone nightmares. But I wondered how others would think about it, or if this just goes back to the Oversensitivity Judges and me.

If anyone else is interested at looking at the rest of her bizarreness, the photographer has her own blog you're welcome to visit and try to understand:

http://victoriafgaitan.blogspot.com/

Song Of The Day

Stars Go Blue

by......

Apparently, today's song has LOTS of versions! Its a gorgeous song, and I couldn't quite decide which was the very best, so I decided to offer several and let you choose. Let me know what's the prettiest to you!

The words have beautiful images, I love to imagine the song as he sings. What he's really talking about, I'm not sure though, it seems to be up for commentary. What do you understand about the lyrics?

Enjoy this poetic and pretty piece!

Ryan Adams Original

Ryan Adams is the one who wrote the song and originally performed it. Personally, I don't like his voice very much. Seems like it was featured on the tv show One Tree Hill and gained popularity from that.

Girl Guy Duet

I think this may be my favorite. Apparently, these are two Norwegian artists. I think the girl is so pretty and her voice is sweet.

The Corrs and Bono duet

Another popular version. I like the Corrs part, but I've never been a huge fan of Bono.

Tim McGraw Country version

This is the version I was originally familiar with. I really love it. Blake Lewis did a cover of Tim's version on American Idol, so I think most people are also familiar with this version.

Oversensitivity Judges

And so I walked handcuffed into the waiting room

of the Oversensitivity Judges.

I sat in an iron chair,

and stared at the others.

The woman across from me in all black, with chains and some kind of metal going through her face, and her mascara tears dripped off her sharp cheekbones.

The man with the narrow nose sat with his arms crossed and head in the air.

The little girl nursed her bloody knee.

And we waited for our names to be called.

And when my name was called, I listened to my every footstep on the plastic floor.

Someone opened the door

I looked into the camber

of the Oversensitivity Judges.

At the end of a long table.

They were dressed in brown plaid suits, and they were wearing spats.

Every last one of them was balding, even the one woman and her crumbly lipstick.

"Ah." they said, universally, as they looked at me.

"Well," I began, in a wax voice, "I am hurt by my friends."

"Ah." They said, universally, as they looked at each other.

"Oversensitive!" One screamed.

I wanted to take off my handcuffs and cover my face and ears.

"Oversensitive" the others echoed universally.

"But you don't know what my friends did!" My wax voice was melting.

"You let your friends hurt you." Said the only woman in crumbly lipstick.

"And that is simply

Oversensitive." Said another.

"Dismissed." said the only man that wasn't white, I think he was Filipino.

Someone took off my handcuffs.

Someone slapped the big red word OVERSENSITIVE on my back,

and sent me out into the streets.

Understanding Kate

Do you know what I hate? What I really really, absolutely, just cannot stand. Its helplessness. No really, that's it. I hate the feeling of helplessness. That sensation that spreads over you and lands like a pile of mud in the pit of your stomach, heavy and dense and disgusting.

When I know I really just can't do anything about something- that this is the way it is and I don't know how to change it, I feel like I'm going crazy inside. I really can't express what it is, inside of me gets so jittery and and pressured and I literally feel like my body's exploding. The helplessness of it pounds inside my head behind my eyeballs, and punches me from inside my chest.

I've had so many of those moments recently! And they've all been little, but they feel so massive to me.

The night before finals, I my textbook disappeared. I cleared out every inch of my house searching for it, but as I sat in the middle of my upturned floor at 3:30 am, I knew I wasn't going to find it. I was going to head into a final without any preparation whatsoever, and there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to scream.

One of my friends is always being told his gay, so I told him about my other friend who everyone says was gay. Neither of them are, and I was encouraging him not to be discouraged. However, I was being an idiot about it and said, pretty loudly "yeah, everyone here thinks he's gay. Like, everyone, I was the only one who fought for him." Guess who was standing behind me? It was the most sickening feeling-what was that going to do to our friendship?

I hate not having any control over a moment. Knowing what happened, happened, and there's nothing you can do to change it. It upsets me to the very worsest degree.