This is the project: Imagine there is a movie being filmed about your life and you are responsible for picking the 12 songs that will appear on the soundrack. You can have up to 2 volumes of soundtracks, totalling 24 songs. Also, you have to come up with the movie title…
“Um, OKAY!!” Music From The Motion Picture Soundtrack
1. Cry - Angie Aparo
2. Story Of Your Bones - Jennifer Nettles Band
3. Solsbury Hill - Peter Gabriel
4. What You Signed Up For - Jennifer Nettles Band
5. You Can’t Always Get What You Want - The Rolling Stones
6. I Go To Extremes - Billy Joel
7. Untouchable Face - Ani DiFranco
8. Shining Star - The Manhattans
9. At Last - Etta James
10. Blue Eyes - Elton John
11. Good Morning Heartache - Billie Holiday
12. Holding Back The Years - Simply Red
13. Overjoyed - Stevie Wonder
14. I Know A Heartache When I See One - Jennifer Warnes
15. I’ll Back You Up - Dave Matthews Band
16. River - Joni Mitchell
17. Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You - Stevie Nicks
18. Gimme Little Sign - Brenton Wood
19. Brass In Pocket - The Pretenders
20. You Can’t Change That - Raydio
21. Watershed - Indigo Girls
22. I Will Not Take These Things For Granted - Toad The Wet Sprocket
23. King Of Pain - the Police
24. In The Absence Of The Sun - Duncan Sheik
This is the strangest day!
You know how you fantasize about things and then the universe decides to throw you a bone and let you have some of your coveted yearnings? It’s rather nice when that happens.
Some days I feel as though I’m on the eternal spin cycle from the fifth level of Dante’s hell. On the others, I’m in the endless dryer just turning and turning and turning, having been dry HOURS ago and not having the sense to sound my buzzer as if to say “Okay, I’m done already, the novelty is gone!”.
The fucked up thing is when I realize I am completely content. That’s when that voice that tells you “Don’t look now, but…” comes over the loudspeakers between your ears and forces you to forget that everything was JUST FINE a few moments ago. I normally don’t stress on unimportant things, and rarely ever on things I have no control over. But now and then, when I’m in my “wierd” zone where being a complete maniac is the norm, you wouldn’t believe the things I say and think to myself. I suppose in my own odd way, that is compensation for having it all “together” for the most part, I have to go a little nuts on occasion. Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition…
My friend Patti lost her husband yesterday. Michael had been very ill with cancer for quite a while now. I just talked to her and she’s doing remarkably well, considering. I told her to accept that for the time being, nothing is inappropriate for her to either think OR feel. I also told her that I was actually very happy that this struggle had run its course for the both of them.
Sleep deprivation. The jury’s still out on how I’m dealing with this. On the one hand, I’m made entirely of dirt and it is rather like it’s leeching from every pore of my body - that’s what it feels like, anyway. Then again, maybe that is a good thing, a purging of sorts. I like sweating, it is good for the body. Maybe this is somehow similar. Interesting experiment, to say the least. Will try the same thing again next weekend and see.
Had the best muffeletta outside of New Orleans that I think I’ve ever had for dinner earlier, which made me immensely happy. Between Maggie and myself, there was a secret understanding that neither of us wanted to actually cook dinner today.
I had this fantastic dream that Duncan Sheik and I went on a roadtrip. He drove and I rode shotgun. Couldn’t tell you where we were or where we were going, I was entirely too busy being goofy and trying not to stare too much. As IF.
All for now, I’m needing a cup of tea and some music.
I miss you Michael. Visit her often.
It is my contention that the only way to get love is to give it first, and give it freely. There is nothing so satsfying as knowing that you have someone, or multiple someones, that you want to run to with news for sharing before it goes to anyone else. Having people who listen to you talking about truly trivial and insignificant things and have them listen to you as if it were the most important thing you’ve ever said, your words are this intricate dream woven into a brilliant filigreed lace. This is what sustains me. Maintaining that level of respect and admiration for the people who get it and understand you, for no other reason that the fact that they are magic. I am proud to admit that there are times when all I want to do more than anything in the world is to slow dance with my friends and hold them like I’m desperate for oxygen and they are the purest air that exists, as a means of celebrating the gifts they bring to my life. So even on the days like this one, when I’m trapped between that crush of what I know is not good for me to think but is considerably easier to give in to and the satisfaction of pondering my treasures in these remarkable people, they invariably win - and I am the better one for it. My friends are every song I ever wanted to be written secretly about me and the yearning for someone somewhere who would one day feel about me like the songwriter did for his muse. And all at once, with no warning other than me catching myself and realizing that I’m smiling, the brass is silver once again and I might as well be on a billboard in Times Square proclaiming “This man is lucky, and don’t think he doesn’t know it.”
