Cue the Music

I hate when I lose the music. Music soothes the distraught little girl in me. You know the child, the one who has lost so many things? The one that refuses to lose anything else but is so small that it really isn‘t up to her?

Everyone needs theme music. One of my favorite author’s gives one of her characters the song Short Skirt, Long Jacket by Cake as her theme song. It makes me want my own themesong. I don’t know what it would be. If I was walking out to the ring and about to go into the battle of my life, what music would inspire me to do my best? What would help rally me back to my feet before the referee count to 10 and calls for the ringing bell?

I have lots of favorites. They go from what I call stripper music to girl power, melancholy melodies to metal mayhem, most anything by Waylon, George, Gary, Steven and Joe or my Daves of Rock Guitars.

I first turned off the music because I was listening to the radio 24/7 and I was picking out the patterns in the play lists. When I noticed how frequently I was predicting the next song and the ads were getting on my nerves I switched to my ipod. I should be embarrassed to say that I have an old 2nd generation iPod Touch that only works when it is docked in my bedside alarm clock/radio. I don’t spend money on gadgets like that, I’m not a big fan of any company that puts out things with a predestined expiration date. Maybe it is my country background that makes me like things that can be adapted or changed, repaired and revived.

The thing about the music on that device, I can’t switch it out due to the only way it works. I usually keep the music I live to on my blackberry sd card and update it. My Blackberry is what I take with me everywhere, what I listen to when I’m out and about dealing with my day. My beloved Bold is on it’s last legs, the micro sd card had to go the way of the white buffalo in order to increase it’s longevity until the new Classic came out to AT&T wireless customers. They finally announced when it would hit the retail stores and now despite the low low price of $50 and a 2 year contract, I’m not sure it is worth having the music back that much to me, even at that bargain. This is how far I have fallen and how faded the music has become in my life.

I use to give my mother hell about singing in the kitchen, or about writing in notebooks. I didn’t understand. When she was happy she would sing. I should have let her sing more often, and now I can’t sing without feeling guilt. My blogs are my versions of notebook writings, although I have some of the old pen/paper ones around the house as well. So, am I becoming my mother? Will depression cause me to stop fighting? I find myself in the fight of my life, or is it my livelihood? Either way, I can’t afford to lose but for some reason I can’t see how I can win.

So that is why I have decided what I need is that theme music…that song that will be the proverbial kick in my ass and make me jump to my feet and be ready for battle.

Despite the glorious Ms. Gaynor’s dislike for this particular version I happen to think the front runner is:

I Will Survive- Cake

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The Black Crowes and Teardrops

I don’t know why I’m even crying, I guess just too much has built up. I’m texting my best friend and trying to set up some girl time but that isn’t going to help. Pressure needs to be released before I explode and take someone or something out.

Today sucked, and it started sucking early, like before the alarm went off. Pre-Sunrise Suckage is a “Special Reserve” kind of beverage that leaves the shittiest taste in one’s mouth.

I have probably written 4000 or so words about it, the incident, the bitching complaining and moaning and even got the starter for a new story out of it, but that whole shit-tasting aspect leaves me in dire need to cleanse not only my proverbial pallet but my mood and gray matter from the more morose thoughts and tortures that I have imagined extracting on those that brought out the Temperamenta Fuerte.

I am in danger of breaking a Blackberry, firing an employee, disowning a family member or worse a combination of all three today. I need to just state for all of mankind, if I hang up on you, thank your lucky stars. I find that is much easier to come back from than verbally eviscerating someone via AT&T’s 4G network.

I can’t change other people, I can only change myself but I can’t change my DNA, my ancestry or the way I was raised. My hair will always have a red-tint to it, unless Ms. Clariol or someone else has a hand in it, my Irish and Native American blood will always be quick to boil and my expectations for people to do as they should and not as they prefer will always be there.

I may be naive but at least I have a set of lungs on me that you can hear my thoughts and a few frills and dressing over the rumble of today’s preferred mediocrity and the baah’ing of today’s mindless sheeple.

Is this where I should say I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore? Well, unfortunately, that is probably a lie. I will end up taking it and I just hope it isn’t up the ass without lube, but I won’t have to like it.

When my mom died, I thought that I was lost and adrift and I would never find the shore. Now over ten years later, I know that if I hug the shore I’m more likely to bash my head against immoveable objects or worse, give up on sailing into happily ever after and sit on the shore and wave as everyone else travels. Older me, hopefully wiser me, has to learn that I need to go with the flow, paddle like mad when the time is right and to not waste too much energy fighting the rip-tides in life and as Dory says, just keep swimming, even if it is perpendicularly, till the time is right to make my move.

Who knew Disney could do more than market to the childhood masses?

Listening To: Seeing Things-The Black Crowes                                                                                   Mood: Muddled

Love Letter to my Phone

Dear Blackberry,

I know I often mistreat you, dropping you on the ground, threatening to run you down the garbage disposal and yes sometimes sticking you in my bra when I don’t have pockets but it is days like today that I’m thankful to have you.

You see right now I’m laying in bed, surrounded by furbabies and knocking out my Blogathon post so I don’t feel so lazy about enjoying a rare occurrence. Sure I have friends and business contacts messaging me while I write this but it is better/quicker than all those dreaded phone calls. While I know I cursed your existence this morning when the farm called with an alarm I hope you know that was just me being angry that my dream of Iron Chef Michael Symon was interrupted. (Purrs)

Sure it feels like sometimes I’m ignored as a blackberry owner by the application designers but like Bethenny Frankle I don’t see my love affair with you ending any time soon, especially if you ignore my cheating on you with the Kindle Fire. *blushes*

I will eventually give you a list of my favorite applications and why but for now, I have furbabies to snuggle.

Till Next Time…