I am a music lover! I think it's very sad that there are those who actually don't have any kind of music collection in their home, no favorite artists or types of music, or even turn on their car radio. I've had so much fun loading my playlist in the last few days that it's pretty loaded. So- I thought I would take a break and maybe help you all sort out what's there... and why.
I'm the sort who listens to music for these reasons, in this order:
1: The sound/flow/beat/goosebump factor of it
2: How well I relate to the lyrics
3: My fickle mood
Ninety Nine percent of what's on my list is there for very personal reasons, the 'I can relate! ones. Usually because I do - however unfortunate that is, lol. But then there are those which I can only relate to on certain levels... because half way into it, a phrase is sung that just changes the entire meaning. Very annoying. But still either close enough, or just lovely sentiments. Then there are the 'Get up and wiggle it cuz you just don't give a damn' songs. I'm still not sure if the 'Making whoopie' songs are a category unto themselves or if they are part of the 'Wiggle it' one. They usually tend to be. And lastly there are those 'Angry Songs'. This category is hard to say when I like to listen to it, because I'm normally a positive person. But sometimes you can only remain positive by having an outlet. And this category fills that need very well. I'm still looking for so many that i'd like to have on it, but for now i'll give you a bit of a guide on some of the random stuff that IS there.
Ozzy Osbourne: So Tired: If you aren't a fan or have never heard of this one, you'd be very surprised to know it's a ballad, and you'd probably never guess it was him if you weren't told. Imagine a woman who is having an affair and the guy keeps telling her he will soon be all hers. Only this time it's the guy being put on hold and he's fed up and is giving up waiting. Very sad.
Amy Grant: Ask Me: This starts off with the singer talking about a young girl who is sexually abused and trying to do all that she can to erase it but all she can do is bathe him off her, put on perfume so she doesn't smell him, etc etc. The singer inquires 'ask me if I think there's a God up in the heaven' because she sees no mercy comfort or salvation from this situation. Later the girl grows up and has gotten through it the best she can and life is pretty normal. The singer again says 'Ask me how I know, there's a God up in the heaven.' Here it becomes obvious that the singer is the little girl and it's because she lived through it that she DOES beleive she was being taken care of all along. I think that's an awesome example of faith and a positive outlook- it's the only way to not be a victim your entire life.
Meatloaf: Life Is A Lemon, And I Want My Money Back: Awesome 'Angry Song'. He goes down the list of things that are defective about or in life. It's almost too cynical even for 'ME'... but oh so fun to yell along with.
From 'What about love? IT'S DEFECTIVE! It's always breaking in half...what about sex? IT'S DEFECTIVE! It's never built to really last.' to 'What about your childhood? IT'S DEFECTIVE! It's always getting burried in the past... What about your future? IT'S DEFECTIVE! You can shove it up your aaaaaaaaassssssssssssss. Lol. Gotta love it!
I'd love to know what you think about each one and if it's new to you or not. Just promise to TRY to judge based on lyric content more than first impression of the sound of it. There will be more to come in the days to follow!
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Just in case you were wondering... Deep Red pt2
Before too much time goes by and the 'Deep Red' post gets lost in translation- I won't leave you hanging. I don't really even want to go back there- now or ever again- and am contemplating deleting the whole thing. But then what is the point of this type of honesty, right? You don't tear pages out of a diary... so for now it remains. What I will tell you and what I want to state for the record, is that I have in fact made peace with that entire situation. And peace is the perfect word for it. From where I was- to where I am. This is peace baby! There is a line in one of my favorite songs (That's What Love Is For) that says 'It's living through the fire- and holding on we find- that's what love is for.' Nothing says it better than that. Call me a phoenix risen from the ashes if you will... but I am stronger than ever having decided to walk through that fire. And it's all because I am finding that unconditional love is there if you are willing to accept it. That's not easy to do- but if you are going to do it, do it all the way. Or else you are doing yourself a great disservice, not anyone else. And you've only yourself to blame in the end if you choose to not accept it. I realized... it is worth it. I'm still a leery sort... still a cynical, hard to earn my trust sort. But I'm willing to close my eyes at times and just lean into the winds of change and know that what ever happens, it was on the wings of love that I took that ride. - Peace- out-
Sunday, March 23, 2008
I've been sharing with you the story of how/why I married so young- and boy am I bored of it already! Or maybe it's just the 23 year long part of the story. Just ask my husband, he'd tell you that, "The last 23 years have seemed like FOREVER!' (and then he'd duck.)
Like the great Paul Harvey said...'Here is the rest of the story...'
Shortly after we met and began dating, he (my now husband, then boyfriend) left to join the military. Our first years consisted of letters & calls, with a few short visits scattered through out. Then his family moved across country and his visits could only be to there instead. So one Christmas his family paid for a plane ticket so I could join them there. He took me to the highest mountain point where we watched the sunset, & then got down on one knee and proposed.
Back at home word traveled fast in my itty bitty town and everyone wanted to see my ring as 'proof'. That summer I decided to move into my sisters apt in a larger town close by so that I could graduate early. I only needed two credits and my small school did not offer such a program. Then right before my Senior year started I was offered to come live in Missouri with an Aunt so that I could be closer to him in Ga. Yup- I gave up on the chance to graduate early for love. ( ...insert cheesy "awww"'s ...) By the time I got moved to the new state, school had already started and I was placed in useless classes just to fill my schedule & put where ever there was room. I had 2 Newspaper classes. Not two different ones- same class, twice a day. They put me in Marching Band. I hadn't played an instrument since 7th grade. They literally told me to 'Puff up my cheeks and fake it, because no one will know the difference.' Then there was Yearbook & Study Hall. I also had to take 9th Gr. Economics & P.E. as the credit criteria was different in the two states.
He drove 8 hrs each way to stay the weekend with me. (and yes, he remained a virgin the entire time.) I got a waitress job in a chowder house that, I kid you not, was just like in the Free Credit Report .Com commercials. I wasn't nearly as cute as that guy in my uniform, and I was horrible at waitressing. I began to hate everything my days involved. We both realized we were just wasting time in order to 'do the right thing.' We decided that as soon as I turned 17 we'd get married in a teeny private ceremony & get an apt. close to his base, and I'd start my Senior yr. over the next year. It helped that I normally would have graduated at 17 anyways so I felt I had a freebie year to play with.
So there I was again- the buzz of the lunch line as first one person noticed my ring and others gathered around to witness this anomaly. The most curious and outspoken ones were those who had just previously been discussing their swollen pregnant bellies, and who was on their first, second, or third. But 'I' was weird. I was apparently doing something 'strange' and unheard of. Yes, I wrote my own tardy notes. (Yes, they made me turn them in even though I was the guardian of myself.) And yes, I barely graduated because most of those tardys were counted as 'Absent' whether I was there the rest of the day or not, and I almost fell under the line of the minimum days of attendance. But it was not because of bad grades.
It's kind of funny now to look back at how even the teachers did not know how to treat me. I got singled out many times as thinking I was smarter, or above reproach, therefore making them either be a bit harder on me or try to avoid me entirely. One of my teachers was a MENSA member. (a national club for highly intellectual types with the highest IQ's) Seems she couldn't find much wrong with a report I turned in so she kept me from getting an A by docking me for using a word 'that wasn't my own'. It wasn't even a BIG word. It was the little, albeit not often used word, 'Aura'; which was not even used in the story I wrote the report on. I had to argue for the points back - but she would only 'meet me half way', because she 'still didn't believe that I came up with that on my own' and gave me back just enough pts. to not raise the grade. Oh well, it's all a funny story to me now and it's my comic relief any time I ponder the irony of so many of life's experiences.
Like the great Paul Harvey said...'Here is the rest of the story...'
Shortly after we met and began dating, he (my now husband, then boyfriend) left to join the military. Our first years consisted of letters & calls, with a few short visits scattered through out. Then his family moved across country and his visits could only be to there instead. So one Christmas his family paid for a plane ticket so I could join them there. He took me to the highest mountain point where we watched the sunset, & then got down on one knee and proposed.
Back at home word traveled fast in my itty bitty town and everyone wanted to see my ring as 'proof'. That summer I decided to move into my sisters apt in a larger town close by so that I could graduate early. I only needed two credits and my small school did not offer such a program. Then right before my Senior year started I was offered to come live in Missouri with an Aunt so that I could be closer to him in Ga. Yup- I gave up on the chance to graduate early for love. ( ...insert cheesy "awww"'s ...) By the time I got moved to the new state, school had already started and I was placed in useless classes just to fill my schedule & put where ever there was room. I had 2 Newspaper classes. Not two different ones- same class, twice a day. They put me in Marching Band. I hadn't played an instrument since 7th grade. They literally told me to 'Puff up my cheeks and fake it, because no one will know the difference.' Then there was Yearbook & Study Hall. I also had to take 9th Gr. Economics & P.E. as the credit criteria was different in the two states.
He drove 8 hrs each way to stay the weekend with me. (and yes, he remained a virgin the entire time.
So there I was again- the buzz of the lunch line as first one person noticed my ring and others gathered around to witness this anomaly. The most curious and outspoken ones were those who had just previously been discussing their swollen pregnant bellies, and who was on their first, second, or third. But 'I' was weird. I was apparently doing something 'strange' and unheard of. Yes, I wrote my own tardy notes. (Yes, they made me turn them in even though I was the guardian of myself.) And yes, I barely graduated because most of those tardys were counted as 'Absent' whether I was there the rest of the day or not, and I almost fell under the line of the minimum days of attendance. But it was not because of bad grades.
It's kind of funny now to look back at how even the teachers did not know how to treat me. I got singled out many times as thinking I was smarter, or above reproach, therefore making them either be a bit harder on me or try to avoid me entirely. One of my teachers was a MENSA member. (a national club for highly intellectual types with the highest IQ's) Seems she couldn't find much wrong with a report I turned in so she kept me from getting an A by docking me for using a word 'that wasn't my own'. It wasn't even a BIG word. It was the little, albeit not often used word, 'Aura'; which was not even used in the story I wrote the report on. I had to argue for the points back - but she would only 'meet me half way', because she 'still didn't believe that I came up with that on my own' and gave me back just enough pts. to not raise the grade. Oh well, it's all a funny story to me now and it's my comic relief any time I ponder the irony of so many of life's experiences.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Momentary Denial...
What mini-mental breakdown? I don't know what you're talking about. :-)
Did you notice the lovely picture of my favorite thinking spot? This is one of the last places in the world where I can go and at least FEEL like i'm alone. It's actually the backyard of my family home in a sleepy little mountain town. Being alone there though, is not always a good idea. Cougars have been seen rummaging through the fire pit along the bank. I'm sure it was just trying to satisfy it's sweet tooth when it sniffed out someone's lost S'more. I'm sure that's all... and the bears that raid parked RV's are just curious.
Yeah right.
No thank you. It's sad though really that it is so hard to get away and get out- and be alone. And be safe if you do find a lonely spot. I'm not as brave as I used to be when I was a kid. Those beautiful lonesome roads that wind through forgotten forests now make me quiver like a wet mouse. Between hungry wild animals driven out of their territories to paranoid wacko's growing their weed in the woods...aloneness in the deep forest canopy is a thing of my past. That's a hard reality to swallow for someone who's very intimate with all the cheesey cliche's of the beauty and wonder in nature. I DO marvel at the artisitc meanderings of the sun's rays as they shine in and out of out shadowy trees. I DO have wonderment for God's amazing patterns. And I DO need to be out there, alone with my thoughts, on a regular basis to cleanse the chaos of my over active mind. I simply can't think of anything as calming as the warm sun on your back as you realize that nothing is as bad as it seems as long as you are alive and able to experience that very moment.
Did you notice the lovely picture of my favorite thinking spot? This is one of the last places in the world where I can go and at least FEEL like i'm alone. It's actually the backyard of my family home in a sleepy little mountain town. Being alone there though, is not always a good idea. Cougars have been seen rummaging through the fire pit along the bank. I'm sure it was just trying to satisfy it's sweet tooth when it sniffed out someone's lost S'more. I'm sure that's all... and the bears that raid parked RV's are just curious.
Yeah right.
No thank you. It's sad though really that it is so hard to get away and get out- and be alone. And be safe if you do find a lonely spot. I'm not as brave as I used to be when I was a kid. Those beautiful lonesome roads that wind through forgotten forests now make me quiver like a wet mouse. Between hungry wild animals driven out of their territories to paranoid wacko's growing their weed in the woods...aloneness in the deep forest canopy is a thing of my past. That's a hard reality to swallow for someone who's very intimate with all the cheesey cliche's of the beauty and wonder in nature. I DO marvel at the artisitc meanderings of the sun's rays as they shine in and out of out shadowy trees. I DO have wonderment for God's amazing patterns. And I DO need to be out there, alone with my thoughts, on a regular basis to cleanse the chaos of my over active mind. I simply can't think of anything as calming as the warm sun on your back as you realize that nothing is as bad as it seems as long as you are alive and able to experience that very moment.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
RIP Deep Red pt1
Life is too short to live in the past. Sometimes memories are a part of that past and this is as they should be. People are too important to not put first. And this post is .. er was... not worth it. And that's my executive decision!
Friday, March 14, 2008
A poem from with in my red head...
Except When It Comes From You...
I march to the beat of my very own drum. I feel like this today- but tomorrow who knows what I will become. I'm a butterfly in my own right- but it's ok if I only appear to be a moth in flight.
I am what I am, people's opinions don't even make me blink- except when it comes from you and what you think.
I don't care if I go unnoticed or if I stick out in a crowd. I might fly under the wire, or live out loud. It really doesn't matter to me, whether or not they can figure me out. But I need you to know what I'm all about.
Why do I care if any one disapproves? Why should I worry about fitting into the grooves?
I am what I am. People's opinions don't even make me blink. Except when it comes to you and what you think.
I don't put much weight in all that other racket. I don't put my eggs all in one basket. I don't lean on tradition or always do what's customary. In fact you'll find, I do things to the contrary.
It really doesn't matter to me whether or not they can figure me out. But I need you to know what I'm all about.
Tell me, why do I care, so careful about what I share? I put my life on a shelf for display each and every day. But you got me walking a tightrope, so afraid of what you might say. I don't need for them to think I matter as much as I sometimes think I do. I don't need anyone's approval-
...except when it comes from you. Red 03-04-08
I march to the beat of my very own drum. I feel like this today- but tomorrow who knows what I will become. I'm a butterfly in my own right- but it's ok if I only appear to be a moth in flight.
I am what I am, people's opinions don't even make me blink- except when it comes from you and what you think.
I don't care if I go unnoticed or if I stick out in a crowd. I might fly under the wire, or live out loud. It really doesn't matter to me, whether or not they can figure me out. But I need you to know what I'm all about.
Why do I care if any one disapproves? Why should I worry about fitting into the grooves?
I am what I am. People's opinions don't even make me blink. Except when it comes to you and what you think.
I don't put much weight in all that other racket. I don't put my eggs all in one basket. I don't lean on tradition or always do what's customary. In fact you'll find, I do things to the contrary.
It really doesn't matter to me whether or not they can figure me out. But I need you to know what I'm all about.
Tell me, why do I care, so careful about what I share? I put my life on a shelf for display each and every day. But you got me walking a tightrope, so afraid of what you might say. I don't need for them to think I matter as much as I sometimes think I do. I don't need anyone's approval-
...except when it comes from you. Red 03-04-08
Thursday, March 13, 2008
An in depth introduction of me... pt 1
Ok, so I opened my big mouth and said I wanted to be a writer. It wasn't long before I was invited to put my keyboard where my mouth is, and here I am! So...
Now what?
The first step I suppose would be to introduce myself. Hi. My name is Red. (At least, that's what they call me. ) That was easy, but now I'm back where I started. I know i'm supposed to tell you a little about myself, and that's where the hard part comes in. What is really so interesting about little insignificant me?
Truth be told, I could tell you stories that would make your head spin. But do I really want to divulge everything from a twisted childhood wrought with physical and emotional abuse, to my current oh-so-sunny (and oh-so-ironic) out look on life? And if the answer is, 'YES! What the heck! Get it off your chest!', then where does one start?
I was born in Iowa one cold winter's eve... Nah. A cold winter night in Iowa... nothing new there. Let's fast forward to: I'm 35 and have been married for 18 years. (I'll pause while you do the math....) That's right, I was married at 17. It was in the great state of Missouri with a permission note from my mommy. But wait, I've lived in The Great Northwest since I was 6. How then, you ask, did I end up in Missouri married at 17? And to add even more fodder to this cauldron of curiousness while simultaneously clearing the air, NO I was NOT pregnant. I still needed to graduate high school after all.
Yes indeed... truth is stranger than fiction. Not always as interesting, but strange enough to make our personal truths so different from one another's, that the difference it's self is really what is so fascinating. At least that's my opinion. Stick around, you'll be treated to many more. (And I'll tell you all about what it was like being married in high school.)
Now what?
The first step I suppose would be to introduce myself. Hi. My name is Red. (At least, that's what they call me. ) That was easy, but now I'm back where I started. I know i'm supposed to tell you a little about myself, and that's where the hard part comes in. What is really so interesting about little insignificant me?
Truth be told, I could tell you stories that would make your head spin. But do I really want to divulge everything from a twisted childhood wrought with physical and emotional abuse, to my current oh-so-sunny (and oh-so-ironic) out look on life? And if the answer is, 'YES! What the heck! Get it off your chest!', then where does one start?
I was born in Iowa one cold winter's eve... Nah. A cold winter night in Iowa... nothing new there. Let's fast forward to: I'm 35 and have been married for 18 years. (I'll pause while you do the math....) That's right, I was married at 17. It was in the great state of Missouri with a permission note from my mommy. But wait, I've lived in The Great Northwest since I was 6. How then, you ask, did I end up in Missouri married at 17? And to add even more fodder to this cauldron of curiousness while simultaneously clearing the air, NO I was NOT pregnant. I still needed to graduate high school after all.
Yes indeed... truth is stranger than fiction. Not always as interesting, but strange enough to make our personal truths so different from one another's, that the difference it's self is really what is so fascinating. At least that's my opinion. Stick around, you'll be treated to many more. (And I'll tell you all about what it was like being married in high school.)
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