soundtrack to a happy weekend
Portrait of the ridiculous aspects of life when you're a bachelorette:
Went to Meredith's house, had dinner, sat around having a lovely chat with her parents, played with Gizmo (who looks like a little happy lamb). Lounged around in perfect weather with the perfect amount of breeze and no wasps flying around our food. Felt 100% relaxed for the first time in quite a while. (Then talked about politics and the economy and gross things that dogs do-- lost a little bit of my calm stupor)
Soundtrack of the evening, which sweetly represents everything my current life feels like:
1. a couple hours of Celtic music on our cellos-- lovely, ridiculous, good for the soul
2. got in the car... some reggae band was covering "Paranoid Android" on KBCO. Worst song I've ever heard, in the history of bastardized covers. It was so bad that I had to call Meredith and gag into my cell phone, and then writhe around in pain until I got to the Safeway on Ken Pratt
3. zoned out in a very sleepy stupor in front of the milk, confused momentarily by the packaging differences (my ghetto King Soopers has trained me to just find the blue 1% milk... Safeway is so much more about Earth-tones... oh, marketing, you control every ounce of our lives)... what comes over the loud speaker? Journey. DON'T STOP! BELIEVING!
4. caught my second wind from Journey (it's impossible not to)... danced a little jig up to the only open lane... a lady in her 70s (?) rang up my cereal and was so sweet that I felt like we should've swapped addresses and started writing to each other at major holidays. Rolling Stones came on (?) as I handed her $10 for the next three weeks of my breakfast items and $10 for the Windsor tornado relief fund
5. schlepped my groceries back to the car-- suddenly exhausted again. Some song came on the radio about "scrambled eggs, and my pegged legs!"
6. switched over to the cd of the local band (Wadirum) I'm trying out for, but have been feeling very low-confidence about lately (almost called to cancel this morning)... fortunately, I was so warmed up from hours of cello-ing, I rocked it out. Sang with ease and vigor and full passion for music and life all the way down the diagonal to my home. Promised myself I would still try out, just to conquer the anxiety.
7. Home, listening to the song of my oscillating fan and early summer stillness
My arms are tired from hauling a cello, two bags of groceries, a purse and leftover Cashew chicken up from the last spot in the parking lot.
My knee that dislocated (while I was simply standing on it) in college has become so sore and swollen over the weekend, I can barely put weight on it. If I go gimp again, I'm going to be SO CRANKY. Fortunately, I refuse to allow this to happen.
My inner monologue is surprised to discover that seeing "Thank You" on top of Chinese rice take-out boxes actually cheers me up-- I was reading the box as I closed the fridge, and disovered that I was smiling and feeling loved. Awesome! Quelle packaging! Why can't the rest of us be this cheerful and generous with our spunk?
My heart is full of love for friends and satisfaction that I have finally found a long stretch of momentum
and inspiration-- I truly want to make something of my life. The blissfully selfish part of being a lone reed for a chapter of your life is the 'wants', I'm discovering...
I want to eat better, dress better, speak better, sing better, run better. I want to listen carefully and live gracefully. I want to continue learning the best ways to cherish those who I love, and keep my heart open with a reasonable amount of vulnerability instead of slamming the chambers of my heart shut when it comes to the scarier, big-picture parts of life.
I want to continue holding firm to things that are important to me-- I've finally learned how to draw a line in the sand and say: "I appreciate who you are and what you say, but if you pass this line, then you're out of bounds and I'll wait talk to you when you get back on your own half of the beach". How do we know if we're being disrespectful to others unless there are clear limits? You wouldn't lash out at your boss-- yet we have all been guilty at certain points of lashing out at our friends and family members. It's important to set firm limits on what's ok to say to each other, and what's not... as kids, we needed boundaries, and as adults, it can be even more reassuring to know the cutoff limit.
Rambling. Sleepy. Need to get up early and greet the day face-on.
Grateful for my friends, my family, my weekends, and the many important moments that make up any given day.
Deliriously grateful for the part of the year that will always be the most special (to me, anyway)-- this subtle transition between spring and summer, which feels the way that light looks as it creeps across the planet in a sunrise, seen from space.
with mooshy sentiments and fingers stained black from cello playing until late,
Mae West
Went to Meredith's house, had dinner, sat around having a lovely chat with her parents, played with Gizmo (who looks like a little happy lamb). Lounged around in perfect weather with the perfect amount of breeze and no wasps flying around our food. Felt 100% relaxed for the first time in quite a while. (Then talked about politics and the economy and gross things that dogs do-- lost a little bit of my calm stupor)
Soundtrack of the evening, which sweetly represents everything my current life feels like:
1. a couple hours of Celtic music on our cellos-- lovely, ridiculous, good for the soul
2. got in the car... some reggae band was covering "Paranoid Android" on KBCO. Worst song I've ever heard, in the history of bastardized covers. It was so bad that I had to call Meredith and gag into my cell phone, and then writhe around in pain until I got to the Safeway on Ken Pratt
3. zoned out in a very sleepy stupor in front of the milk, confused momentarily by the packaging differences (my ghetto King Soopers has trained me to just find the blue 1% milk... Safeway is so much more about Earth-tones... oh, marketing, you control every ounce of our lives)... what comes over the loud speaker? Journey. DON'T STOP! BELIEVING!
4. caught my second wind from Journey (it's impossible not to)... danced a little jig up to the only open lane... a lady in her 70s (?) rang up my cereal and was so sweet that I felt like we should've swapped addresses and started writing to each other at major holidays. Rolling Stones came on (?) as I handed her $10 for the next three weeks of my breakfast items and $10 for the Windsor tornado relief fund
5. schlepped my groceries back to the car-- suddenly exhausted again. Some song came on the radio about "scrambled eggs, and my pegged legs!"
6. switched over to the cd of the local band (Wadirum) I'm trying out for, but have been feeling very low-confidence about lately (almost called to cancel this morning)... fortunately, I was so warmed up from hours of cello-ing, I rocked it out. Sang with ease and vigor and full passion for music and life all the way down the diagonal to my home. Promised myself I would still try out, just to conquer the anxiety.
7. Home, listening to the song of my oscillating fan and early summer stillness
My arms are tired from hauling a cello, two bags of groceries, a purse and leftover Cashew chicken up from the last spot in the parking lot.
My knee that dislocated (while I was simply standing on it) in college has become so sore and swollen over the weekend, I can barely put weight on it. If I go gimp again, I'm going to be SO CRANKY. Fortunately, I refuse to allow this to happen.
My inner monologue is surprised to discover that seeing "Thank You" on top of Chinese rice take-out boxes actually cheers me up-- I was reading the box as I closed the fridge, and disovered that I was smiling and feeling loved. Awesome! Quelle packaging! Why can't the rest of us be this cheerful and generous with our spunk?
My heart is full of love for friends and satisfaction that I have finally found a long stretch of momentum
and inspiration-- I truly want to make something of my life. The blissfully selfish part of being a lone reed for a chapter of your life is the 'wants', I'm discovering...
I want to eat better, dress better, speak better, sing better, run better. I want to listen carefully and live gracefully. I want to continue learning the best ways to cherish those who I love, and keep my heart open with a reasonable amount of vulnerability instead of slamming the chambers of my heart shut when it comes to the scarier, big-picture parts of life.
I want to continue holding firm to things that are important to me-- I've finally learned how to draw a line in the sand and say: "I appreciate who you are and what you say, but if you pass this line, then you're out of bounds and I'll wait talk to you when you get back on your own half of the beach". How do we know if we're being disrespectful to others unless there are clear limits? You wouldn't lash out at your boss-- yet we have all been guilty at certain points of lashing out at our friends and family members. It's important to set firm limits on what's ok to say to each other, and what's not... as kids, we needed boundaries, and as adults, it can be even more reassuring to know the cutoff limit.
Rambling. Sleepy. Need to get up early and greet the day face-on.
Grateful for my friends, my family, my weekends, and the many important moments that make up any given day.
Deliriously grateful for the part of the year that will always be the most special (to me, anyway)-- this subtle transition between spring and summer, which feels the way that light looks as it creeps across the planet in a sunrise, seen from space.
with mooshy sentiments and fingers stained black from cello playing until late,
Mae West
posted by JustJane at
11:03 PM
1 Comments:
jane, i confess - i am a negligent, negligent friend. but i cannot sit idly by as your ears are assaulted by a REGGAE cover of one of the best songs ever. they must pay for their transgressions.
i'm glad to hear you're doing well, and i'm happy to report i'm squarely in the same boat on wanting "to make something of my life," though perhaps i've got some catching up to do. that paragraph absolutely sums it up, and all i'm left to do is say "YES EXACTLY" loudly over the interwebs.
keep kicking ass (gracefully), preferably with your non-bummed leg.
adieu,
andrew
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