I think I am in love.
With Neil Young, that is.
Ah, I just love his voice so much. I love the way he sings, the way he talks, the way he has such power and connection with his instrument. He has such a deep, slow talking voice compared to his high and delicate singing voice. Neil Young I want to have your babies!
Hahaha, no I won't go that far. But I do, do, do, do love you.
I want to put up some lyrics by my Neil, but I can't decide between Castles Burning, Man Needs a Maid or Old Man.
I guess I'll go with Old Man.
"Old Man"
Old man look at my life,
I'm a lot like you were.
Old man look at my life,
I'm a lot like you were.
Old man look at my life,
Twenty four
and there's so much more
Live alone in a paradise
That makes me think of two.
Love lost, such a cost,
Give me things
that don't get lost.
Like a coin that won't get tossed
Rolling home to you.
Old man take a look at my life
I'm a lot like you
I need someone to love me
the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes
and you can tell that's true.
Lullabies, look in your eyes,
Run around the same old town.
Doesn't mean that much to me
To mean that much to you.
I've been first and last
Look at how the time goes past.
But I'm all alone at last.
Rolling home to you.
Old man take a look at my life
I'm a lot like you
I need someone to love me
the whole day through
Ah, one look in my eyes
and you can tell that's true.
Old man look at my life,
I'm a lot like you were.
Old man look at my life,
I'm a lot like you were.
Oh, and also want to give props to Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie for being so freaking hilarious.
http://www.hbo.com/conchords/
31 January 2009
30 January 2009
Hm.
I really have nothing going on right now. I'm staying up too late, sleeping in and putting on make up for nobody. I'm listening to The Kinks, so that's pretty good, but really, The Kinks should not be the high point of my day.
27 January 2009
My Dearest, Darlingest Jonas Thompson
I'm entering a love letter contest, which makes me sound unbearably sappy and stereotypically "girly", but it is no ordinary love letter contest. This isn't necessarily love for another person, or even persons, but it can be for anything: an object, and idea, a style, a season. I'm writing mine to Jonas Geisel Thompson, otherwise known as Jonas, otherwise known as my bass. Guitar, that is. I named him Jonas before the Jonas stupid Brothers were famed and fortuned, and I just want to clarify that his name has NOTHING to do with them. I named him Jonas after the boy in the Giver, and I would have named him Giver, but that would have been a little strange, so I went for Jonas. Geisel is Dr Seuss' last name, Theodore Geisel, and he is an admirable man who was way ahead of his time. And Thompson is there to humble him, thus he is my humble and gentle giant, Jonas Geisel Thompson.
I digress.
Anyway, so I'm writing a letter to this love of mine, and here I am going to show you ghosts my first draft. Bear with me, as I haven't edited it very much, and I know it's heavy on the metaphors, so some of those might disappear. Anyway, such is editing, as you surely must know.
So here it is, for my darling Jonas. I was also debating what to address him as, because Jonas reminds people of the Jonas Brothers, and Geisel wouldn't work for the Dr Seuss trivia-inclined nor would it be aesthetically pleasing, and saying Mr Thompson makes it sound like I'm sleeping with a teacher. So I called him my dearest love. For he is, after all.
So here it is, for my darling Jonas.
I digress.
Anyway, so I'm writing a letter to this love of mine, and here I am going to show you ghosts my first draft. Bear with me, as I haven't edited it very much, and I know it's heavy on the metaphors, so some of those might disappear. Anyway, such is editing, as you surely must know.
So here it is, for my darling Jonas. I was also debating what to address him as, because Jonas reminds people of the Jonas Brothers, and Geisel wouldn't work for the Dr Seuss trivia-inclined nor would it be aesthetically pleasing, and saying Mr Thompson makes it sound like I'm sleeping with a teacher. So I called him my dearest love. For he is, after all.
So here it is, for my darling Jonas.
To my Dearest Love,
You simply cannot know the depth of the feelings I have for you. They are deeper than music, deeper than your very voice, deeper than even I can understand.
I love to let my fingers dance over your neck, sometimes soft, slow, simple, other times, fast and intricate. I love the way your voice alters with every move I make, the way the smallest touch can change your sound. Your body belongs with mine, my arms wrapped around its middle, for warmth, for security, for passion. I feel you move as I move. I hear you sing as I sing.
The coils of string that hang from your head I finger with intention. There is purpose, and it makes me love you more, makes me hold you tighter, makes every moment worth living.
You are white snow that comforts me in the darkness of cold evenings spent with you. You are white clouds that interrupt the monotonously blue sky to add delicate artistry to its bold, childlike simplicity. You are warm, brown sand that fills the gaps between my toes when we are out together. You are a brown log that makes fire; how it warms me inside and fills me with joy. You are a red sunset, a watercolour sky that fills me with awe, with majesty, and with freedom. You are red blood that rushes through my veins and into my heart, and, like my heart, I swell every time you come to me.
I love to spend my time with you. There is none like you. You are mine and I am yours, we are each other’s, we are each other. We are together; we are one. I express myself through you. You are an instrument of beauty, of intellect, of passion and of art. You help me find myself. You are my instrument, and together, we are music.
Forever yours,
Callie
Oh Companionship.
Pets are wonderful things, aren't they. Indeed. I couldn't find the grey cat, so unfortunately she didn't make it into this post. Nonetheless, I love my creatures. And here they are, I suppose.
26 January 2009
24 January 2009
Kenny
The Burma and I went skating again. Twas a blast. Here is our list of people for the evening:
1-overpowering father who lives through his children
2-jumping man
3-tap dancing man
4-ever-present annoying showing-off figure skater
5-German man
6-turtle man
7-parent who couldn`t get his child out from the penalty box
8-mr purdy
9-elvis stojko
10-the teletubbies
11- KENNY
For real, Burm and I saw Kenny from Kenny vs Spenny at the arena. I mean, I know he`s only a half-celebrity, but it was still exciting. At first we thought he just looked outstandingly like him, but then we saw that he was him, and said Òh my gosh, it is him!`And that was our big event. It was very cool. He even looked right at us, thought it was probably because we were gawking at him to see if it was, in fact, him.
Either way, very cool.
23 January 2009
Listy-Listy
Dusk is my favourite time of day.
Fresh made pretzels or bread is one of my favourite smells.
Mothballs are not.
I have no favourite precipitation.
Tiredness doesn't feel nice.
Food is satisfying.
Fashion is mystifying, interesting and expressive.
Clothes have significance.
Music changes me.
A pencil is a mediator between internal thought and physical expression.
Eyes are a strange and intriguing piece of us.
New Zealand likes to rock the party.
Hair smothers.
Paper rustles.
Humour has many dimensions.
Movies are trash, film is art.
Electricity is ridiculous.
Snoring is ridiculous.
Cats are oblivious.
Missing people is challenging.
Tiredness doesn't feel nice.
Nor does pain.
Fresh made pretzels or bread is one of my favourite smells.
Mothballs are not.
I have no favourite precipitation.
Tiredness doesn't feel nice.
Food is satisfying.
Fashion is mystifying, interesting and expressive.
Clothes have significance.
Music changes me.
A pencil is a mediator between internal thought and physical expression.
Eyes are a strange and intriguing piece of us.
New Zealand likes to rock the party.
Hair smothers.
Paper rustles.
Humour has many dimensions.
Movies are trash, film is art.
Electricity is ridiculous.
Snoring is ridiculous.
Cats are oblivious.
Missing people is challenging.
Tiredness doesn't feel nice.
Nor does pain.
22 January 2009
20 January 2009
OHbama.
Oh, Obama. I can't even begin to express how awesome it feels to know you are the President, honestly and truly, and it is so awesome to know that I am alive and well to experience this huge whopping chunk of history. Whenever I think young people in history I think fifties, with the poodle skirts and dancing and milkshakes. Now I'm a young person in the future's history. What will they think of me? Will they think 2009 when they think young people in history? It's wil.d Obama is my hero today. I only wish I had been able to watch it happen live. I did watch it about two hours ago, and I was captivated by him. Obama goes.
It made me think back to when he was first made President Elect, not that is was ages ago or anything, but I remember I was sitting right here at the computer and watching it happen on the TV. The whole show stopped (I was watching Jon Stewart), and Jon looked up and said, "As of now, 11:00pm Eastern time," and the whole crowd gasped, "The President Elect of the United States of America is...Barack Obama." Cheers. Yells. Crying people. It was incredible. I was so happy, I was literally bouncing in my seat. The whole world is changing.
Good work, Americans, you did it right this time around.
As for Canada's political crisis...
It made me think back to when he was first made President Elect, not that is was ages ago or anything, but I remember I was sitting right here at the computer and watching it happen on the TV. The whole show stopped (I was watching Jon Stewart), and Jon looked up and said, "As of now, 11:00pm Eastern time," and the whole crowd gasped, "The President Elect of the United States of America is...Barack Obama." Cheers. Yells. Crying people. It was incredible. I was so happy, I was literally bouncing in my seat. The whole world is changing.
Good work, Americans, you did it right this time around.
As for Canada's political crisis...
19 January 2009
17 January 2009
All I Wanna Do is Pumpumpum
To-night was skate night with the Burma! Twas fun, and relieved me both of my boredom and the smothering air that surrounds the computer, bearing down upon and eroding my lungs and respiratory system. Anyway, so thats my summary, I guess.
I am seriously considering this painting in mittens at the water deal.
The Water
Yesterday I didn't end up going for a stroll, because promptly after I made plans to leave, five or six people started talking to me on msn that I wanted to talk to so I stayed in and had some talking time.
I did, however, go for a stroll today, and I just got back in, in fact. I went with Clara and it was soooo freezing, I was worried I'd get frostbite again, which got me thinking about the cab driver with the frostbite stories.
Not a lot happens in my days.
Anyway, it was really very cold and wonderful, and I took Clara down to the water, which was definitely cool. I forgot to bring my camera, so I'll be going back tomorrow to get some sick pictures. I hope it's as cloudy tomorrow as it is today.
It was so cool down there. Literally, too. It was incredibly windy. All the snow was laid on the beach all unevenly, and some grass was poking out, and the oldish park sign was swaying in the wind, so it felt like I was inspecting some old abandoned town or something that had been wiped out by the Plague. Or something. It was desolate. And ultimately cool. I would have stayed and looked around longer had I not been afraid to get more frostbite.
I climbed over the snowbanks and onto the beach to get a closer look at the natural snow banks that had formed at the edge of the water, which were very icy and intricately carved. The water was so still, and the sky was so harshly gray it was absurd. There absolutely no fluctuation in the colour at all. It was just very strange and cool. I wanted to paint it. Maybe I'll go back tomorrow and paint with mittens on in the snow. Wouldn't that be wild.
Anyway, I was standing on the beach with Clara, surrounded at first with the uneven but relatively shallow snow, then by high peaks of snow banks, with a few lone trees standing pathetically in the distance, and I felt not only like I had come upon a wiped-out town, but that it was once my town, and I was missing it. Like I would cry or something. The water was so still, the waves frozen in place, it was like it had been brought into existence as a photograph. I was standing on what I initially thought was rocks, but turned out to be huge massive chunks of ice.
Ah. So it was so beautiful. Eventually I trudged through the thigh-deep snow and headed home, contemplating some words to use in my blog. I came across some rich-next-to-water-living kids, who gave me laughably stereotypical snobby-kid looks, and that was it, I suppose.
So, pictures for tomorrow. Must remember.
"The Water"
By Feist
The telegraph cables hum
And few can decipher who the message is from
And it deliver it quietly
Cause some don't get much company
The harbour becomes the sea
And lighting the house keeps it collision free
Understand the lay of the land
And don't let it hurt you
Or it will be the first to
The water, the water
Didn't realize
It's dangerous size
The mountain, the mountain
Came to recognize
It's a steep and rocky sides
More than realized
Pale as a pile of bones
You hope for your babies
And this is how they grow
Wind-battered, knocked over
The teeth by the shoulder
Watching the grey sky
That's acting like a good guy
The water, the water
Came to realize
It's a dangerous size
The mountain the mountain
Came to recognize
It's steep and rocky sides
Came to recognize
It's steep and rocky sides
More than realized
I did, however, go for a stroll today, and I just got back in, in fact. I went with Clara and it was soooo freezing, I was worried I'd get frostbite again, which got me thinking about the cab driver with the frostbite stories.
Not a lot happens in my days.
Anyway, it was really very cold and wonderful, and I took Clara down to the water, which was definitely cool. I forgot to bring my camera, so I'll be going back tomorrow to get some sick pictures. I hope it's as cloudy tomorrow as it is today.
It was so cool down there. Literally, too. It was incredibly windy. All the snow was laid on the beach all unevenly, and some grass was poking out, and the oldish park sign was swaying in the wind, so it felt like I was inspecting some old abandoned town or something that had been wiped out by the Plague. Or something. It was desolate. And ultimately cool. I would have stayed and looked around longer had I not been afraid to get more frostbite.
I climbed over the snowbanks and onto the beach to get a closer look at the natural snow banks that had formed at the edge of the water, which were very icy and intricately carved. The water was so still, and the sky was so harshly gray it was absurd. There absolutely no fluctuation in the colour at all. It was just very strange and cool. I wanted to paint it. Maybe I'll go back tomorrow and paint with mittens on in the snow. Wouldn't that be wild.
Anyway, I was standing on the beach with Clara, surrounded at first with the uneven but relatively shallow snow, then by high peaks of snow banks, with a few lone trees standing pathetically in the distance, and I felt not only like I had come upon a wiped-out town, but that it was once my town, and I was missing it. Like I would cry or something. The water was so still, the waves frozen in place, it was like it had been brought into existence as a photograph. I was standing on what I initially thought was rocks, but turned out to be huge massive chunks of ice.
Ah. So it was so beautiful. Eventually I trudged through the thigh-deep snow and headed home, contemplating some words to use in my blog. I came across some rich-next-to-water-living kids, who gave me laughably stereotypical snobby-kid looks, and that was it, I suppose.
So, pictures for tomorrow. Must remember.
"The Water"
By Feist
The telegraph cables hum
And few can decipher who the message is from
And it deliver it quietly
Cause some don't get much company
The harbour becomes the sea
And lighting the house keeps it collision free
Understand the lay of the land
And don't let it hurt you
Or it will be the first to
The water, the water
Didn't realize
It's dangerous size
The mountain, the mountain
Came to recognize
It's a steep and rocky sides
More than realized
Pale as a pile of bones
You hope for your babies
And this is how they grow
Wind-battered, knocked over
The teeth by the shoulder
Watching the grey sky
That's acting like a good guy
The water, the water
Came to realize
It's a dangerous size
The mountain the mountain
Came to recognize
It's steep and rocky sides
Came to recognize
It's steep and rocky sides
More than realized
16 January 2009
I am so Bored it's Painful
Burmy just asked me how it was going, and I said kind of medicorice, but I meant to say mediocre, and it made me think of licorice. That in turn made me think of the Corner Gas episode when Wanda, Hank and Karen are having a competition to see who can keep their New Year's resolutions longest, and Wanda is fasting from licorice.
As you must surely be able to tell, I'm bored out of my mind.
Clara just got back form an hour long walk and is whining. What is her deal.
Urg. So, my iPod has been sitting here charging, and I'm thinking I should get some new music on it while I'm at the computer so that I have new songs for when I'm at work, but I can almost guarantee that won't happen. I think I'm going to go for a stroll. That would feel good for my computer air-inflated lungs, and computer chair-positioned legs. I shall do that, and maybe take some pictures and slap em up here when I return.
So I'm off to take an adventure maybe.
I'll take my newly charged and old song-filled iPod with me too.
As you must surely be able to tell, I'm bored out of my mind.
Clara just got back form an hour long walk and is whining. What is her deal.
Urg. So, my iPod has been sitting here charging, and I'm thinking I should get some new music on it while I'm at the computer so that I have new songs for when I'm at work, but I can almost guarantee that won't happen. I think I'm going to go for a stroll. That would feel good for my computer air-inflated lungs, and computer chair-positioned legs. I shall do that, and maybe take some pictures and slap em up here when I return.
So I'm off to take an adventure maybe.
I'll take my newly charged and old song-filled iPod with me too.
15 January 2009
Stayin Alive
Ooooooog I haven't been blogging very much lately. I just haven't felt inspired to rant, because I've been so busy, and I keep forgetting to bring my camera around, so I don''t even have pictures. But in some rather insignificant news, I got frostbite on my left ear the other night and it reallllly hurts. So, to avoid that happening again, I took a cab to dance today, and the cab driver was a big ol' ex-trucker who had a high and frequent giggle who had some tales to tell about getting frostbitten whilst trucking. He was amusing. I also took this hilarious video of Courtland singing Stayin' Alive in a ridiculous voice while he made hot chocolate and sprayed whipped cream all over the place. I was going to say something else...hm. I can't think of it. But I probably oh! I just thought of it hahaha.
The past few nights I have been sleeping on the far side of my bed, right next to the wall, so the heat from the heater hits me directly instead of waiting for it to waft over my mattress, and I started thinking about how I usually sleep in the middle of my bed, because humans are kind of centre-of-vicinity creatures, you know? Like, we sleep in the middle of the bed, we stand in the middle of the room, we walk in the middle of the sidewalk unless someone else is there. I started thinking about all the corner-dwelling creatures, like spiders and beetles and scorpions and how what if they came up out from behind my bed and started crawling all over me because I was in the corner of the bed where they hang out? What if they got mad that I was invading their corner-space and they sprang forth and wiggled into my clothes and such, and all these images of orange scorpions creeping all over my body started popping up. Then I started to feel like a corner-dweller, all shoved up against my wall with a whole twin bed left open for the cats to sleep on, which they did, and it was cozy but kind of creepy. Then I started thinking about how I was as far away from my bedroom door as I could possibly be, as though if a thief or kidnapper or something decided to come in, my being far from the door would offer me more protection, or more time to think up a risky yet astoundingly successful escapade. I felt like someone was poking their finger into a scorpion's little den and it had stuck its stinger up but got squashed anyway. It was a very unusual thing to be thinking of myself as a tiny hole-dwelling type thing, and it continues to be. Bit it's so warm right above the heater like that., Isn't it strange, how animals are drawn to heat, to light? I was thinking about that the other day too. Haha. Weird thoughts. I'm probably the only person to have such weird thoughts.
I don't know why I was thinking scorpions. I've never even seen a scorpion in real life.
I end today with a period that is overflowing with contentedness and bemusement.
The past few nights I have been sleeping on the far side of my bed, right next to the wall, so the heat from the heater hits me directly instead of waiting for it to waft over my mattress, and I started thinking about how I usually sleep in the middle of my bed, because humans are kind of centre-of-vicinity creatures, you know? Like, we sleep in the middle of the bed, we stand in the middle of the room, we walk in the middle of the sidewalk unless someone else is there. I started thinking about all the corner-dwelling creatures, like spiders and beetles and scorpions and how what if they came up out from behind my bed and started crawling all over me because I was in the corner of the bed where they hang out? What if they got mad that I was invading their corner-space and they sprang forth and wiggled into my clothes and such, and all these images of orange scorpions creeping all over my body started popping up. Then I started to feel like a corner-dweller, all shoved up against my wall with a whole twin bed left open for the cats to sleep on, which they did, and it was cozy but kind of creepy. Then I started thinking about how I was as far away from my bedroom door as I could possibly be, as though if a thief or kidnapper or something decided to come in, my being far from the door would offer me more protection, or more time to think up a risky yet astoundingly successful escapade. I felt like someone was poking their finger into a scorpion's little den and it had stuck its stinger up but got squashed anyway. It was a very unusual thing to be thinking of myself as a tiny hole-dwelling type thing, and it continues to be. Bit it's so warm right above the heater like that., Isn't it strange, how animals are drawn to heat, to light? I was thinking about that the other day too. Haha. Weird thoughts. I'm probably the only person to have such weird thoughts.
I don't know why I was thinking scorpions. I've never even seen a scorpion in real life.
I end today with a period that is overflowing with contentedness and bemusement.
13 January 2009
Wonderful Snow and Satan People
Oh snow, how I love thee. Sometimes it's like God has speckled the world with icing sugar, sometimes it is like He's sprinkled it with glitter. Then when the sanders come around, it looks like cinnamon. Snow is wonderful, despite the coldness and the wetness and whatnot. I do love it.
I did a flamenco performance at a Greek restaurant at the mountain yesterday, and the performance itself was okay, but the manager was being a total dick to my entourage and I. He was obnoxious and demeaning and outrageously, unbelievably rude. Then he plunked me in a stairwell by myself for half an hour to wait for the guests. I wanted to leave and to yell and to cry. I didn't leave or yell, but I did cry afterwards. He treated me like a nobody. It was awful. I'm never going to go to that restaurant again, if he begged me.
I did a flamenco performance at a Greek restaurant at the mountain yesterday, and the performance itself was okay, but the manager was being a total dick to my entourage and I. He was obnoxious and demeaning and outrageously, unbelievably rude. Then he plunked me in a stairwell by myself for half an hour to wait for the guests. I wanted to leave and to yell and to cry. I didn't leave or yell, but I did cry afterwards. He treated me like a nobody. It was awful. I'm never going to go to that restaurant again, if he begged me.
10 January 2009
It was a Brownie Evening
Friday night at Callie's house! Yay. So last night was a blast, and it included Katelyn, Burm and I. We discovered how Burm would look with a gender flip, and it was disturbingly attractive. Very weird and lesbian-sounding, but she makes a good-looking guy. Burm, whatever you do, don't go have a sex change and then come back and date me and then tell me you're actually Burm. I'd probably have nightmares to no end. And I'd cry.
Oh, and just for clarification, that whole sex change twisted freaky idea was Burm's.
Katelyn and Reddy
And by the end of the evening..
My favourite picture of the night.
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