Today was one of those days when I was completely overwhelmed and just when I thought I would break down and cry, it stormed.
When I was a senior in college, I was one of those crazy undergrads taking 18 credit hours, volunteering regularly, working a part-time job, and, you know, being a senior in college. This meant that my planner was my life. I loved my planner. I planned my days to the nearest MINUTE. Oh, public policy starts at 10:15, does it? I will begin my walk over there at 10:08. So it was no surprise when my therapist told me to take my watch off my wrist and never put it back on. I was that scheduled and that crazy.
I've never put on a watch since. In this day and age of cell phones and computers and signs at the train station, who needs a watch anyway?
But today was like that day when my therapist listened to my breathless telling of my day's agenda and told me to take it off. I was overscheduled and underfed. I was overstimulated and underexercised. There was a panic attack.
I'm leaving to go out of town on Wednesday. In the meantime, I have about a million little details to attend to. This is why I am doing laundry at 12:30 in the morning. This is why I responded to a student email at 2 in the morning yesterday. This is why I am currently freaking out.
I'm unprepared. I am overscheduled. There's a knot in my stomach, unrelated to the sad fact that they voted the funny guy off Project Runway. I want to crawl under a blanket and watch the episode of The Gilmore Girls where Jess comes back and Rory runs away from him, Rory with that ridiculous run and then Jess tells Rory he loves her. I want to watch it over and over and over again. I want to cry, but I can't. I want to stop sneezing, but I can't. I want to pretend it's Wednesday afternoon and I'm driving out of the city, but I can't. I want to pretend I'm caught up on email, but I can't. I want to pretend the laundry is done, the rent is paid, the responsibilities are over, but I can't. I want to crawl away, be alone, be quiet and cool, but I can't.
This is not stress. It's depression. It's the soul-sucking pain of wanting everything to be fine just like it was yesterday. Nothing is different. I was this overscheduled yesterday. But this is what happens. It overtakes you, in the space of a second.
I'll be fine. Gloria Gaynor promises. But in the meantime, I'll be praying for Wednesday afternoon to get here as soon as possible.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Overdose of Consumerism
1) Dress. Black with cream vertical stripes. Size 4.
2) Cardigan. Three-quarter sleeved buttom up. Black. Size small.
3) Shawl. Brown.
4) Bra. Black. Convertible to sleeveless and halter. I'll keep my bra size to myself.
5) Headband. Black.
6) Earrings. Silver drop.
7) Clutch. Black.
8) Clutch. Brown.
It was a shopping extravaganza. For someone who claims to be broke all the time, I sure do love my shopping!
2) Cardigan. Three-quarter sleeved buttom up. Black. Size small.
3) Shawl. Brown.
4) Bra. Black. Convertible to sleeveless and halter. I'll keep my bra size to myself.
5) Headband. Black.
6) Earrings. Silver drop.
7) Clutch. Black.
8) Clutch. Brown.
It was a shopping extravaganza. For someone who claims to be broke all the time, I sure do love my shopping!
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Thanks, Ma
I still receive applications for absentee ballots at the old homestead back in Michigan. My mother sent one along to me with the following note:
"I thought you might need this. I encourage you to participate in American politics."
Serious or hilarious? I think it's open for debate.
"I thought you might need this. I encourage you to participate in American politics."
Serious or hilarious? I think it's open for debate.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Breaking Up with Radio
Another music-related post from me to you.
I used to hate country music. Then I realized that I LOVE country music. The reason is that country is steady and unchanging. I have a thing about change. Mostly, the thing is that I don’t like it. I dislike that I have to change my bike ride to work because of construction. I dislike moving because I hate the new routine a new location has. I even dislike moving furniture in my room because it creates this discordant clang in my heart. I’m not an early adapter. I’ll come around to things if they’re worth it, but I’m sort of stuck in my ways.
Country music works for me. The themes never change. The last week or so I’ve been thinking about what those themes are.
Theme #1 Bad Love
This one is pretty self-explanatory. Broken hearts, cheaters, and papas who aren’t around.
Theme #2 Coming of Age
Growing up is hard. Teen angst. Mid-life crises. Reminiscing on glory days long gone. Most songs on prison and jail are coming of age songs in some way.
Theme #3 Love of God, Country, and Red States
The Yanks didn’t really win, you know. This is the theme that includes love of the land, city-hating, and horses.
Theme #4 Drinking
Beer and booze, not fruity drinks or 7-Up.
Theme #5 Fast cars and pickup trucks.
I think this covers it pretty thoroughly. Here are some classics, broken down by theme. The best songs, of course, include multiple themes.
“Walkin’ After Midnight” by Patsy Cline: Themes #1, 2, AND 3. Because Patsy is just that good. She’s pining for her love, in the dark, walking about a land she can’t leave, realizing that she’s gotta move on to grow up. The consistency of the voice and the ideas in the lyrics and you are there, watching her walking around, lost in thoughts about a long lost love.
“Don’t Close Your Eyes” by Keith Whitley: Themes #1 and #2, delicately done. He’s holding her, but she’s thinking of someone else. As he pleads with her to look at him, and think of him, not this other guy, he knows the relationship is doomed. He matures right then and there. Do songs get better than this?
“Mama Tried” by Merle Haggard: Themes #2 and #4. Mama tried to raise him better, you know. He ended up in jail anyway. He’ll never learn. This is one of the great songs of prison. Johnny Cash can have his Folsom Prison, but I want Merle’s lament to his mama.
“Don’t Take Your Guns to Town” by Johnny Cash: Themes #2, 3, and 4 (some might argue for #1 – why was Billy going to town anyway?, but as it’s questionable, I’ll just go with the for sure themes). I didn’t mean to dismiss the Man in Black in my Merle love moment. He’s definitely got his songs. I pick this song over all the obvious choices because it’s so classic. It’s all angsty and mysterious and full of unanswered questions that don’t need to be answered because it addresses the THEMES. Mama cries, Billy rides out (it’s completely assumed on a horse even though it’s never said – why do we assume? Cuz it’s COUNTRY, and people ride on horses in country songs), Billy drinks, Billy dies. It’s not a coming of age song, so much as a dying young song. And since dying is part of living, we, in country music circles, must accept this as growing up.
“Hello Darlin’” by Conway Twitty: Themes #1, 2, and 4. Okay, it’s implied that he’s going to drink her memory away, right? So I can include #4. Some people don’t need last names. When I say Merle, you say Haggard. When I say Conway, you say Twitty. This man doesn’t need a slow hand, and I’ll comfort him if he sings this song to me.
“Young Love” by the Judds: Themes #2, 3, and 5. It’s hard to make a happy country song. I’ll be honest, this is what makes me hate modern country songs like “Happy Girl” by Martina McBride or even “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” by Travis Tritt. That’s not country. That’s fucking happy. Country is about the misery of life. Country is about getting drunk and pissing on your neighbor’s petunias. Country is about why it's hard to wake up in the morning. About why things sometimes suck real bad. Dogs dying, papas who don't come home, and grit and hard work and sweat. Country isn’t about thanking God for a good life. That being said, this is a happy country song. It’s about growing up (in the South) with a Ford. It’s not bad love, which is what makes it unusual, but it’s about life as it is, not a glorious life, but everyday life and everyday struggle. Even as it’s optimistic. This is a fine line the Judds drew in this here song, but it works.
“The One I Loved Back Then (The Corvette Song)” by George Jones: Themes #1, 2, 3, 4, AND 5. That’s right. George knocks it out of the park with this classic. He hits EVERY theme. Cuz he’s fucking George Jones and you don’t mess with him. We’ve got a lost love (maybe not bad, but she left him for a banker), we’ve got reminiscing about old times, we’ve got stopping at some local convenience store where some guy pumps you gas so we know that this is clearly somewhere on the opposite side of the Mason-Dixon line from where I live, we’ve got beer cuz that’s why he’s at the c-store, and we’ve got speedy cars. Oh, yeah. George Jones rules my world.
The major point I’m trying to make about these songs is that the themes are implicit. It’s love of country. You know it is. But it’s not Toby Keith shouting jingoistic nonsense into a microphone. It’s a communing with God, but it’s not Pat Green flopping off about the long, dark train. It’s certainly not the happy-go-lucky Faith Hill singing about how great kissing is. She never touches ANY themes. So this is why I have to turn off country music radio and go back to the classics of country. I’m sorry, country music radio. You do have your Gary Allens, Brooks and Dunns, and Trick Ponys of the radio world, which might save you yet, but I’m breaking up with you. Kenney Chesney, Tim McGraw, and (shiver mightily) Carrie Underwood have chased me away. I’ll tune in again in a couple of years. Maybe you’ll change your evil ways.
Okay, I’m leaving Dolly, Garth, Loretta, and Tammy off my list because I have to get to bed. But you know what’s great about country? I don’t have to tell you the last names of those people. You know them.
I used to hate country music. Then I realized that I LOVE country music. The reason is that country is steady and unchanging. I have a thing about change. Mostly, the thing is that I don’t like it. I dislike that I have to change my bike ride to work because of construction. I dislike moving because I hate the new routine a new location has. I even dislike moving furniture in my room because it creates this discordant clang in my heart. I’m not an early adapter. I’ll come around to things if they’re worth it, but I’m sort of stuck in my ways.
Country music works for me. The themes never change. The last week or so I’ve been thinking about what those themes are.
Theme #1 Bad Love
This one is pretty self-explanatory. Broken hearts, cheaters, and papas who aren’t around.
Theme #2 Coming of Age
Growing up is hard. Teen angst. Mid-life crises. Reminiscing on glory days long gone. Most songs on prison and jail are coming of age songs in some way.
Theme #3 Love of God, Country, and Red States
The Yanks didn’t really win, you know. This is the theme that includes love of the land, city-hating, and horses.
Theme #4 Drinking
Beer and booze, not fruity drinks or 7-Up.
Theme #5 Fast cars and pickup trucks.
I think this covers it pretty thoroughly. Here are some classics, broken down by theme. The best songs, of course, include multiple themes.
“Walkin’ After Midnight” by Patsy Cline: Themes #1, 2, AND 3. Because Patsy is just that good. She’s pining for her love, in the dark, walking about a land she can’t leave, realizing that she’s gotta move on to grow up. The consistency of the voice and the ideas in the lyrics and you are there, watching her walking around, lost in thoughts about a long lost love.
“Don’t Close Your Eyes” by Keith Whitley: Themes #1 and #2, delicately done. He’s holding her, but she’s thinking of someone else. As he pleads with her to look at him, and think of him, not this other guy, he knows the relationship is doomed. He matures right then and there. Do songs get better than this?
“Mama Tried” by Merle Haggard: Themes #2 and #4. Mama tried to raise him better, you know. He ended up in jail anyway. He’ll never learn. This is one of the great songs of prison. Johnny Cash can have his Folsom Prison, but I want Merle’s lament to his mama.
“Don’t Take Your Guns to Town” by Johnny Cash: Themes #2, 3, and 4 (some might argue for #1 – why was Billy going to town anyway?, but as it’s questionable, I’ll just go with the for sure themes). I didn’t mean to dismiss the Man in Black in my Merle love moment. He’s definitely got his songs. I pick this song over all the obvious choices because it’s so classic. It’s all angsty and mysterious and full of unanswered questions that don’t need to be answered because it addresses the THEMES. Mama cries, Billy rides out (it’s completely assumed on a horse even though it’s never said – why do we assume? Cuz it’s COUNTRY, and people ride on horses in country songs), Billy drinks, Billy dies. It’s not a coming of age song, so much as a dying young song. And since dying is part of living, we, in country music circles, must accept this as growing up.
“Hello Darlin’” by Conway Twitty: Themes #1, 2, and 4. Okay, it’s implied that he’s going to drink her memory away, right? So I can include #4. Some people don’t need last names. When I say Merle, you say Haggard. When I say Conway, you say Twitty. This man doesn’t need a slow hand, and I’ll comfort him if he sings this song to me.
“Young Love” by the Judds: Themes #2, 3, and 5. It’s hard to make a happy country song. I’ll be honest, this is what makes me hate modern country songs like “Happy Girl” by Martina McBride or even “It’s a Great Day to Be Alive” by Travis Tritt. That’s not country. That’s fucking happy. Country is about the misery of life. Country is about getting drunk and pissing on your neighbor’s petunias. Country is about why it's hard to wake up in the morning. About why things sometimes suck real bad. Dogs dying, papas who don't come home, and grit and hard work and sweat. Country isn’t about thanking God for a good life. That being said, this is a happy country song. It’s about growing up (in the South) with a Ford. It’s not bad love, which is what makes it unusual, but it’s about life as it is, not a glorious life, but everyday life and everyday struggle. Even as it’s optimistic. This is a fine line the Judds drew in this here song, but it works.
“The One I Loved Back Then (The Corvette Song)” by George Jones: Themes #1, 2, 3, 4, AND 5. That’s right. George knocks it out of the park with this classic. He hits EVERY theme. Cuz he’s fucking George Jones and you don’t mess with him. We’ve got a lost love (maybe not bad, but she left him for a banker), we’ve got reminiscing about old times, we’ve got stopping at some local convenience store where some guy pumps you gas so we know that this is clearly somewhere on the opposite side of the Mason-Dixon line from where I live, we’ve got beer cuz that’s why he’s at the c-store, and we’ve got speedy cars. Oh, yeah. George Jones rules my world.
The major point I’m trying to make about these songs is that the themes are implicit. It’s love of country. You know it is. But it’s not Toby Keith shouting jingoistic nonsense into a microphone. It’s a communing with God, but it’s not Pat Green flopping off about the long, dark train. It’s certainly not the happy-go-lucky Faith Hill singing about how great kissing is. She never touches ANY themes. So this is why I have to turn off country music radio and go back to the classics of country. I’m sorry, country music radio. You do have your Gary Allens, Brooks and Dunns, and Trick Ponys of the radio world, which might save you yet, but I’m breaking up with you. Kenney Chesney, Tim McGraw, and (shiver mightily) Carrie Underwood have chased me away. I’ll tune in again in a couple of years. Maybe you’ll change your evil ways.
Okay, I’m leaving Dolly, Garth, Loretta, and Tammy off my list because I have to get to bed. But you know what’s great about country? I don’t have to tell you the last names of those people. You know them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)