Acceptance is key to inner peace

from Reconstructing Amelia by Kimberly McCreight:

"Why do you hate me so much?” I heard myself ask. Part of me was glad that I had. The other, smarter part of me wanted to throttle that first part. “Tell me what I’m doing and I’ll try to stop, I swear.”

“Can you stop being you?” Zadie asked quietly. Her face was so close now. Close enough that we could have kissed. “I mean, if you can, that would be awesome. Otherwise, I guess we’ll have to stick with me hating you.”

The scene relates to a much larger bullying problem that is at the center of this riveting and well-written novel, yet you don't have to be bullied to long to ask someone this in real life.

I almost found myself going up to someone today and asking her this, but then I realized: a) of course not everyone is going to like you and b) if someone takes a dislike to you and (as far as you know) there's nothing you can do about it, what is asking "why do you hate me so much?" really going to change about the situation? 

I would love to say to her "tell me what I'm doing and I'll try to stop," but my gut instinct tells me there's nothing I could do, that the reason is because of who I am and not what I do. 

And, of course, there's the harsh, but simple truth that sometimes people don't even have to have a reason to dislike us. :(

A perfect song for a "find your strength" day!

"They Told Me" is a powerhouse of a song, perfect for channeling during the crappiest of moments. The music is just so high-energy, the words so k.a. that you can't help but want to have a better day!

Listen while you read!

Never have I had, a rational mind and
Never have I been, rational inside
My good, my heart and my head
That’s the way they’ve always been

Never gonna change, who I am
Just cause you’ll never understand
Never gonna apologize
For being so intense
How the hell would that make sense

[Chorus]
They told me, they told me to get over it
They told me, they told me,
They told me to get over it
They told me, they told me

I am not ashamed of what’s inside of me
And I will never ever be
Jealousy is an untamed beast
And an untamed beast lives inside of me

[Chorus] x 2
They told me, they told me to get over it
They told me, they told me,
They told me to get over it
They told me, they told me
But I will never get over it.

Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/sallie-ford-the-sound-outside/they-told-me-lyrics/#01xCjwuyPyZ8OR7Q.99

Listen while you read!

Never have I had, a rational mind and
Never have I been, rational inside
My good, my heart and my head
That’s the way they’ve always been

Never gonna change, who I am
Just cause you’ll never understand
Never gonna apologize
For being so intense
How the hell would that make sense

[Chorus]
They told me, they told me to get over it
They told me, they told me,
They told me to get over it
They told me, they told me

I am not ashamed of what’s inside of me
And I will never ever be
Jealousy is an untamed beast
And an untamed beast lives inside of me

[Chorus] x 2
They told me, they told me to get over it
They told me, they told me,
They told me to get over it
They told me, they told me
But I will never get over it.

Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/sallie-ford-the-sound-outside/they-told-me-lyrics/#01xCjwuyPyZ8OR7Q.99

They Told Me
Never have I had a rational mind
Never have I been rational inside
My gut, my heart and my head
That’s the way they’ve always been
Never gonna change who I am
Just because you’ll never understand
Never gonna apologize for being so intense
How the hell would that make any sense
They told me to get over it
Hell I’m not ashamed of what’s inside of me
And I will never ever be
Jealousy is an untamed beast
And that untamed beast lives inside of me
They told me to get over it
But I will never get over it.

“Live by the harmless untruths that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle 

 Happy Monday!

At times zany and totally "out there," Kurt Vonnegut's writing is always intelligent, thoughtful and surprisingly kind and humanistic.

So many of his words give me hope, especially the above two quotes. He may be my favorite writer after Henry James and on trying days I think of both of the above passages and find hope in them.

Even if some of the outlandish things I believe (that someday we can find world peace or that there is a lid for every pot when it comes to love) turn out to be completely untrue, as long as they are harmless to others and I keep things in perspective, what's so wrong in believing wonderful things? :) 

Ever since I heard "Stupid Girl" in 1995, I have been a fan of the band Garbage.

After "Beautiful Garbage" first came out I listened to it feverishly for weeks on end. I would put it on during my treks through a local park, I played it in my car and on my stereo during early evening. It sort of became a "breakup" album, the kind of music you listen to leech out and attack emotional pain.

Last night I took it off my CD rack and listened to it and I fell in love with "Beautiful Garbage" all over again.

Soulful medicine that tugs at you can be found in tracks such as "So Like A Rose," a song so fragile and pretty it's like a deer you don't want to frighten away. The same goes for the equally powerful but subtly different "Cup of Coffee" and "Drive You Home." Lead singer Shirley Manson combines sweet vulnerability and strength in a way few female singers do. (Well with the possible exception of Aimee Mann, but her music is not really the same at all.)

The more rock-driven titles that are catchy but not so pop that they lose their power include "Shut Your Mouth" (raw and edgy and a much better--and more appropriate--song for female empowerment than "I am Women, Hear Me Roar" ever was) and "Til The Day I Die" (a high-powered lament about loving someone more than you would prefer.)

I love this album so much I've gone through three copies over the years!!

Late this afternoon, after work, I did something I never ever do: I went by the liquor store. I didn't get anything too heavy, mostly because I can count on one hand how many times I've had alcohol in my life and I've never been drunk. I don't plan on it in the future, either.

It's weird how I pass by the place whenever I go to the local Giant grocery store and not once have I seen a woman go in or out of the door. I swore to myself when I was younger that I would never go in one because I'd seen firsthand what alcohol did to members of my family. I associated going in during the day as something almost devilish and disturbing.

But today I went in anyway and, just as I'd seen among many exits over the years, there were only men inside. No one paid me any attention, but I still felt like I was out of place.

I bought Seagram's Calypso Colada and, besides being the exact shade of the Caribbean ocean, it tastes heavenly...a huge surprise for me since the taste of wine, beer or any other like it has never appealed to me. But there is one thing I remember from the few times I've imbibed and that's the pleasant numbness that starts to spread through you. You forget things that bother you and even relax to the point you find nothing wrong with the world at all.

Of course, this is not something I want to get in the habit of, at all. I hate the thought of using numbness to try and feel better about things. It's not healthy nor is it any kind of solution at all. And it won't make forget what I most want to forget.

It has given me an odd clarity, though, on the situation I write about here from time to time. I realize in all this unrequited love mess, or crush (or whatever it is), that I don't want the person to like me back. It's not only impossible and wrong, it's not what's at the heart of the problem for me.

Ever since I discovered I have feelings for her, I've been wrestling with intense guilt. And I guess I would love (more than anything else related to it) to know that if she did know she would somehow find it possible to forgive me.


...

In a slightly related manner, I did a Google search and found this terrific wiki how article on being indifferent:

how to be indifferent

 

 

 

 

Whenever I change my mind and decide to try and start dating again, I am always always sorry. Not because the other person is a bad date, but because my experiences end up reminding me that I’m the one who is and Friday nights at home are really better than any night out.

That look (on polite women's faces it’s more a flicker) of disappointment as soon as we meet is disheartening, but the false promises of “I’ll call you” or patronizing declarations of "you're so sweet" are more cruel than actual cruelness would be.

“You don’t look like you sound on the phone” is the most brutal and direct it’s ever gotten and even that’s still mild. Better to be slapped with a hard truth than caressed with a soft lie, the saying goes...or somewhere along those lines.

I’m done. I say this to myself a lot when I get home from a bad date, especially a bad blind date. But this time I mean it. I had only tried again anyway because I am so desperate to forget someone I really do like, who besides being a totally inappropriate and unattainable person to feel this way about is so far outside my league she might as well live at the edge of the universe.

It’s funny. I’ve had one-sided crushes before and been just fine. And I’ve had many bad dates before and been fine afterwards, too. In the past, I could rationalize away the pain because we didn’t have much in common (important things like values and philosophies regarding love and fidelity) anyway.

For the first time in my life, though, books and music just aren’t enough to fill those little holes inside that insist on getting bigger and won't be plugged up with my favorite novels and songs.
 

That visage of someone vague but eventual I used to hope I’d meet someday, the one I’d cook and be there for and snuggle with on the couch watching movies after a long day, is fading more and more each year. The hope you can have in your 20s of falling in love and growing old with someone shines a lot brighter than it does in your 40s.

It's not the bad dates or even this gut instinct that I'm meant to be alone that sadden me. In fact, I'm sure I'm eventually going to be fine and at peace with all of this and books and music will once again put everything back where it belongs.

It's just sometimes in life you meet someone so amazing they somehow leave you longing for something you can never, will never and should never have. The dream becomes a nightmare and only when the dream is over, when you realize you never should have had it all, does true happy ever after begin.

 

 

 

 

 

My niece introduced me to this wonderful, wonderful album called Vessel by twenty/one/pilots. The whole effect is kind of what you might get if you mixed Jason Mraz with Weezer and threw in a much gentler and more soulful Eminem. The cover art perfectly captures the surprisingly delightful "what to make of it" elements.

"Migraine" and "Screen" are my absolute favorites, with the latter having an awesome, awesome beat and joyous sounds, even while the lyrics are sad in perfect counterpoint:

I'm standing in front of you

I'm standing in front of you
I'm trying to be so cool
Everything together trying to be so cool

^^^

At this point in the song, everything is swirling together and the earnestness and vulnerability of the singer being in front of someone he likes is almost more than the listener can bear. Your heart rises and falls at the same time.

Later, lead singer Tyler Joseph raps in a touching but tough confessional:

My flow's not great, okay, I conversate with people
Who know if I flow on a song I'll get no radio play
While you're doing fine, there's some people and I
Who have a really tough time getting through this life
So excuse us while we sing to the sky.

I know this is going to be an album I'll wear out listening to over and over again. :)

Ever since I first heard "Chasing Cars" years ago I have been completely and most biasedly in love with Snow Patrol's sound. It can be uplifting to the human spirit and devastatingly sad for the soul at the same time. I pretty much cannot be trusted when it comes to reviewing anything by Snow Patrol because they could just sing the phone book and I'd be right there, ready to listen.

"Lifening" is my favorite from Fallen Empires (how can your breath not catch when Gary Lightbody sings: 'To share what I've been given/Some kids eventually/And be for them what I've had/A father like my dad'?) His voice is magical, perfect poetry.

And just as they have on previous albums, they make your heart break pretty much throughout every song. The closest thing to dance they've probably ever done is "Called Out In The Dark." But just because their mood rarely wavers doesn't mean they repeat the same old thing over and over. There's "The Garden Rules" sad (which is pretty darn sad) and then there's mellow sad ("Those Distant Bells.") The subtle sounds of electronica that appear on such likable tracks as "The Symphony" are kind of new for them, if I'm not mistaken.

The title track sounds different than anything Snow Patrol's done before and "The Symphony" (it's kind of sensual,almost something you softly can groove to) and "The President" are two other stand-out tracks. I love everything here, but you can't really take my word on that, can you? :) You have to listen for yourself.

Maybe some lines from Snow Patrol sum it up best: "A record plays/A song that you've not heard/It is perfect/It is home."

If not for music, I'm pretty sure I would have lost my mind a long time ago. Lots of people turn to music for comfort and peace, no doubt, maybe even therapy. I know I have. Music also is a reflection of what's in your heart, especially when it comes to other people.

Trying to not feel for someone is rather difficult and sometimes it seems like you can no more force yourself to stop caring for someone than you can make that person care back. Obviously, you can't make someone like you back. And you shouldn't. 

But once you accept that and know your feelings aren't going to leave any faster if you try and force them away, there's an odd loveliness to silently embracing it all and knowing just what you'd say to them if you could (and you know they wouldn't mind.)

In two different music magazines within the past two years, Tears For Fears'

The Hurting was mentioned as one of the best albums of not just 1983, but the 80s themselves. I never realized before how much the idea of
primal scream therapy (and emotional distress) played into the concept of it all.

Their version of "Mad World" preceded Gary Jules' (which appeared on the Donnie Darko soundtrack) and is totally different, though equally full of yearning.





Mojo music magazine started and ended 2013 with Stevie Nicks-related issues. If you can get a hold of the January issue, you'll find a terrific tribute album that takes on every song from Rumours. Of particular note: Pure Bathing Culture's hypnotic cover of "Dreams" and The Staves' gloriously beautiful "Songbird." Some bookstores are still selling the December 2013 issue since it came in special packaging and its info will never expire. In that issue you can catch an interview with Stevie Nicks. I never realized that Prince played synth on her solo hit "Stand Back."

 

Books make Monday better! :)

The last I just added because I can be in the foulest mood and Tom Jones always makes me feel better! :)

If music were a person, it would be my constant companion, the love of my life.

I'm listening to Stevie Nicks' "Ooh My Love" and it gets to me, as always. It's my favorite song of hers...haunting and sad and pretty and deep. And it hurts me, even though it's not my story.

Almost every song I love is steeped in emotions I've never lived myself. But, they become my emotions while I'm in the music.

I guess, then, you could songs are not just emotional infusions. When you're at heartbreak's door, songs save you as if they were emotional transfusions.

Smother, by Wild Beasts, is perfectly titled, evoking stifled cries and what it’s like to be suffocated with so much longing that even whispers barely come out.
 

I have always been attracted to albums with the potential to break your heart. I don’t know why. I don’t particularly enjoy wallowing in sad music; I just know that when I hear a really good sad song it floods through my soul, like laughter or chills. It’s cathartic the way a really good cry is. You kind of feel better afterward.

Wild Beasts sensational album, Smother, which ended up on several “Best of 2011” album lists (including music magazines Under The Radar and Uncut), is a beautiful creature. The lead singer has a distinctive voice; I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone else sing like he does. Songs like "Albatross" and "Bed of Nails" are so gorgeous and heart-wrenching they should come with warning labels.

 I was hesitant to believe their new album Present Tense could possibly stand up to its predecessor. I'm still taking it all in and I still prefer Smother, but there's something about this present I like.

<<<I saw this the other day and it really struck a chord with me. I put the book on hold at my local library and can't wait to read it, hoping it will help me lots!!

<<This pretty much says it all about David Bowie's "Let's Dance."  :)

"Physical attraction didn't explain why every time she happened upon Amelia unexpectedly, Caton felt her mouth go dry, her heart race and the immediate desire to find something to say that would make Amelia see her as less of a burden." If ever a sentence spoke to how it can feel when you first start to like someone you know you shouldn't, this may be it. What begins as a "senseless attraction" for Caton, hired to assist wealthy Amelia Halston in her charity functions, slowly escalates to something much more, even if that "much more" is more sexual than anything else and is, sometimes, just a little too disturbing.

In the early stages of their awkward working relationship (though I use the term "working" very loosely) Caton (to her credit) tries (oh boy, does she try!) to resist her feelings by using "civil avoidance," a term that perfectly describes how she tactfully and politely avoids her boss whenever possible. Amelia, on her end, is often nothing more than a "gaping void of nothingness that often stared back at her." She strikes when she wants to, but makes it seem as if her interest in Caton is merely accidental.

When Caton and Amelia meet, both women are already involved with other people, which makes the whole infidelity aspect a huge detractor for anyone who likes their love stories free of innocent victims. Riley LaShea wisely chooses to have Laura (Caton's girlriend) be a rather generic figure in the story, thereby taking some of the sting away from how Caton disregards her so quickly. Amelia's husband is (to put it mildly) a pompous jerk, who deserves no one's loyalty.

There is lots of connection (of the bedroom and "eyes meeting across the room" sort) and disconnection (between Amelia and her emotions) in Behind The Green Curtain and the amount of erotic interplay within the novel is a bit disconcerting for anyone who prefers their romance more emotional and less full of power plays and dramatic denials.

The writing is so crisp it's almost too much so, to the point that if not for the sudden injection of love and romance in the last fourth of the novel, it would be cynical more than anything else. I guess what kept me reading and reading some more (putting this book aside was rather hard) is how easy it is to relate to Caton and the roller coaster of emotions she experiences.

Is there any point in writing something online no one reads? Probably not. But if you know no one's reading and you still want the somewhat safe illusion someone is, what's the harm in pouring your heart out? If you have an audience of zero, is there anything to be feared or lost when writing something deeply personal that you'd rather no one else know?

There are days when it takes all my self control not to tell this certain person how much I like her. It's not that it would matter, but that it's an actual compulsion inside me I have to sometimes fight, like the urge to break out into a musical number when you know that would just be strange and out of place. Part of me thinks she would hate knowing I like her, the other part knows she wouldn't care either way. 

The first day we met I had such hopes we'd at least get to be co-workers that got along well, if not friends. Now, I know differently. Now, I behave differently. 

With most people I am fine, if a bit too goofy and more chatty than I probably should be. With her, I am completely silent to the point of being rude. I am in such awe of her that it's like a stun gun hits me.

She is the epitome of poise and togetherness, so much so that if it weren't for this kindness that hides behind her eyes, you'd mistake her for aloof, maybe even cold. She's so the opposite of me and I wish I could carry on a conversation with her without turning red or stumbling over my words. 

I thought by now I'd be relaxed around her, but I'm not. She's a super-talented woman, but there's also something else I can't put my finger that makes her hard to dismiss.

Even when I was young, way before I suspected I might be gay, I had trouble talking with people I found fascinating. The more I liked someone (whether platonically or romantically) the more I retreated. At first I found it frustrating, but once I learned I had no poker face at all I realized it was a blessing in disguise.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Maybe I just want it written somewhere (have it ripped out of my heart and mind, for even a second) so that I keep it hidden in plain sight and don't risk telling her one day. 

Sometimes we outgrow the music we love when we're young and sometimes it stays with us our whole lives. Over the years I've lost my passion for, say, Duran Duran, even though I still love "New Moon On Monday" and "Come Undone" (I will never not like "Come Undone." It is moody and deep and totally surrenders to the sensuality underscoring the song.)

But the Carpenters, specifically Karen's voice, will always be with me. I get Richard's genius with musical arrangements, I do, but his approach to music is almost too methodical. It was always, always, Karen's lovely register and heartfelt (if sometimes understated) commitment to song I loved more than anything and still do.

Maybe it's because her health started to decline around the same time, but I've always thought their best years were 1969-1973, which are the years covered in their best-selling Singles album. It's not that their later records didn't sound good ( Horizon, for instance, is just gorgeous, but it's saturated in a sadness that was present in its initial release and not a lingering association with Karen's tragic death.)

The Carpenters are still loved by many these days and their sound remains wonderful, but I always wondered if album covers like the one for Close To You did more harm than good in helping them be more respected in the music business. It's totally adorable in a completely dorky way, but it might have been one of the reasons it was uncool to admit you liked them in the 70s:

This article explores the pains and perks of being a Carpenters fan. I can't wait for the writer's book on this subject to be released:

read here



Hannibal, Season 1



It kind of worries me that I enjoy the cooking scenes so much on Hannibal, Season 1. I know, of course, that he's not really cooking human organs, but the implication is still there. 

The food preparation on the show is as much a part of it as anything else and I can't believe how compelling this show has become for me. Great writing, atmospheric production and strong characters make me continue watching, though I've heard the ratings for the second season are down considerably.

I saw this article on BuzzFeed and found it quite fascinating since it explores all things food related on Hannibal in much depth! :

read here: Hannibal Food Secrets

#thisiswholesome is Honey Maid's hashtag for their wonderful new commercial that includes a gay couple raising a family. The above picture is taken from their response to the many homophobic comments viewers sent them in the aftermath. Though the positive responses were ten times the amount of the hateful ones, Honey Maid still wanted to acknowledge the haters. So all the comments were printed out and rolled into tight cylinders that were used to spell out the word "love"...what a terrific way to fight the hate!

I especially like the use of "wholesome" since it's the exact opposite of what most anti-gay people believe to be true about us. In all the debate about gay rights and marriage the one thing that's bothered me is this: if being gay itself is seen as horrible and sinful, does it really matter if we're born that way or not? Haters are still going to hate. Until we eradicate the unseemliness that some insist on infusing gays and lesbians with, we will never make progress in this hot button issue.

I'll never forget something I read in The Geek Shall Inherit The Earth by Alexandra Robbins. One lesbian teen nterviewed for the book said that straight people get the benefit of being seen as in love while gays are only associated with the bedroom. Many of us who are gay or lesbian want to fall in love just like anyone else, want to raise a family with that someone special and grow old with them. What could be more wholesome than that?