...just finished watching last night's "Grey's Anatomy" (entitled, appropriately enough, "Superfreak")...actually one of the better episodes in recent memory. I can't believe that a major network television show (usually known for its steamy storylines) actually tackled the subject of virginity with a reasonable amount of respect (and even better, didn't make the girl out to be someone with sexual hang-ups)...yay!!:)  here's a link to some interesting insights on the episode:

link


the best "Meredith voiceover" in quite some time:

Nobody chooses to be a freak. Most people don't realize they're a freak until it's way to late to change it. No matter how much of a freak you end up being, chances are there's still someone out there for you. Unless of course, they've already moved on. Because when it comes to love, even freaks can't wait forever.


another nice thing about last night's GA was the use of a Cary Brothers song called "Belong":

What a beautiful breeze this is...it's been a long time since I've seen an album cover capture the spirit of what's inside!:) Sure, The Boy Least Likely To is aptly named...there are some sad sounds here and one wonderfully crazy song about a machine that does so much it almost cures loneliness ("The Boy Least Likely To Is A Machine"), but the overall zen-ness of it all makes for some incredibly relaxing time on the couch.

"She reminded him of a celebrated actress in Paris who was the ideal of tortuous thinness."


"...there was no place like Boston for taking up with such seriousness a second-rate spinster from Brooklyn."

--from the short story "A New England Winter"

After a tough battle with sleep last night I finally fell lightly around four a.m. and I proceeded to dream about finding, buying and even selling rare Henry James books out of the trunk of my car...vivid colors and covers...highlight of the night:)

I don't particularly care for today. I like yesterday or the way I envision yesterday...the past minus sexism, racism and homophobia. A world with lovely sentences and surprisingly sharp insights into the human psyche...written in the manner of a brilliant drawing room comedy.

Whenever I dream about 19th century literature (and life) I have these amazing feelings...like I'd love the emotional restraint and intellectual parts of it...I could so do without technology and would relish the witty dialogue and delicious subtext that probably doesn't exist outside of the novel:)

James, in particular, seemed to have had a feel for emotions and social observations that were ahead of their time...even the meanness buried (and not so buried) within his witty observations has an almost 21st century chic to it...especially in his shorter sentences that don't go round and round the barn with what he really wants to say...

There are three albums from the 80s which forever changed how I felt about music: China Crisis' Flaunt the Imperfection,  Danny Wilson's Meet Danny Wilson and George Michael's Faith. All of them had this sound that touched me on different emotional levels, China Crisis and Danny Wilson being the most beautiful and somehow noble and George Michael the most base and yet still somehow beautiful. Listening to those three cds in recent weeks I find I still love them as much as ever...not for any memories they evoke (please! I'm trying to forget those!:) ) but for how fresh they remain....

Of the three, though, it was Flaunt the Imperfection that got me through so many hard times in high school and still remains a great source of  peace during stressful times. It's a soft and beautiful and very different from almost everything else done during the 80s:)

...only the lonely can play...

There's a certain amount of loneliness that can come with too much freedom. After work tonight I wandered around town aimlessly, going places I didn't even need to go to because I didn't want to return to my empty apartment. In the local gas station supermart Snow Patrol was playing on the sound system and the gorgeous, plaintive sounds of "Just Say Yes' pulled at my heart like a child tugging on her mother's pants' leg.

That moment was surreal, like almost every moment is when I hear a favorite sad song unexpectedly out and about. Things seemed to slow down and I noticed the people in the supermart...an elderly man with careworn wrinkles on his face and the bluest eyes I've seen in quite some time...a man in his thirties dashing in and out, impatient to pay for his gas...the cashier, friendly enough, but still distant, his eyes looking at something over my head. He was young and good-looking and had that air of waiting for his shift to end because he had plans in a few hours, big plans.

I bought my newspapers, my coffee energy drink and some non-perishable lunch items for work the next day. Dawdling was silly...my apartment would still be empty no matter what time I got home. Miss Right was not lurking around the corner, somehow waiting for me to bump into her unexpectedly. I watched way too many silly romantic comedies full of false ideas and yet still I waited...

So now, it's past midnight and I'm listening to this amazing album by Rocco DeLuca and the Burden. The song on right now is called "Open Pages" and it's steeped in calm sadness...resignation and maybe even the idea that pain is noble if you handle it the right way.