running down a dream
i've been running lately.
there. it's out in printed word. i guess i finally have to admit: i'm becoming a runner.
{melodramatic-think drew barrymore-sigh}
this is meaningful only to those who know me well. there are two things i detest: beets and running. and i'm not quiet on either of these opinions, nor respectful of those who differ from mine.
i used to think a lit bonfire in my pants {now don't get naughty, i'm talking a literal fire you scamps} would be the only thing to get these feet skipping faster than a 1.5 m.p.h. speed on a treadmonster. zero incline of course.
but something happened when i was in mexico this summer, in an effort to lose the rest of the world and its problems, i found my gait.
a stride which steadies my breath, narrows my focus, and reigns in my anxiety.
i can't run for very long. pain sets into my usual spots.
but those minutes are precious. preferably without distraction, just me, my headphones and my monster.
the music varies according to my mood and what i need, but without fail lissie is always somewhere on my playlist.
[vimeo http://www.vimeo.com/23470365http://www.vimeo.com/23470365 w=660 h=420]
wednesday happy to you m'loves.
"Once I knew I was not magnificent....I could see for miles, miles miles.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWcyIpul8OE&feature=player_embedded#! w=640 h=480]
carbo load
sunday night hunkiest and i made our way over to balboa island for a stock, so-cal, summertime date night.
balboa island shines in the summer. dutch doors swing hello-to you wide; welcoming the wandering and strolling alike. an impromptu patio frolic is a common sight on every block. with beast in tow we ambled through the streets of houses and stores as she chased kitties and taste tested the various water bowls offered to her from shopkeeper to shopkeeper. the main avenue offers up colorful, seaside themed boutiques, non-chain restaurants, a killer candy store and ice cream shops offering the famous balboa bar.
for food we chose our favorite, red-checkered table-clothed, pop & mom, italian hideaway near the bay bridge. dark red cabernet for him, bubble water and lime for me, we cozied in a corner and imagined ourselves on a hot, sticky night in a roman trattoria.
perusing the menu of pastas, pizzas, calzones and secondi, i formulated my list of 4 acceptable items to order. i always choose four selections just in case my first choices aren't available. oh the miserable dining experiences i've had whence a panic order ensued following me not having a backup plan. miserable for me, and for those sharing said meal with me. such non-preparation has resulted in arctic dover sole, the bok choy salad, a watercress sandwich, ratatouille, and the dreaded steamed artichoke {hate those blasted things!}.
although it goes against the rules of etiquette, i almost always ask my man to order first, as if my order is the prize, the grand finale the table has all been waiting to hear, rather i'm still making up my indecisive, monkey mind.
and what will you be having for having for dinner? lisa, the waitress, finally asked me.
i was poised and ready with my 1 through 4: either the catch of the day, steamed mussels, steamed clams, or the caesar salad.
i'll have the fettucine alfredo, please.
!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?
{stunning silence}
yep. i ordered the fettu-muthafuckin-cine al-fatto, otherwise known as heart attack on a plate, and i did with a tone that said if you question me, "lisa", i'll take this chianti shaped candle, and shove it down your, up till now, pleasant pipe. i'm quite sure lisa had to check with the chef to see if he still knew how to prepare the pasta; the notoriously unhealthy dish is ordered so rarely. and i can put money on the kitchen running out to the local market for more sticks of butter.
after we found his jaw, and picked up off the ground, hunkiest and i deconstructed the mystery of my tourette order. did i have a stroke? was i possessed by my inner 6-year-old? what on earth had caused me, an exercise professional, a typically healthy eater, someone who likes her pants loose {and her bass down low} to order the most clogging of arteries and highest of fat and calories on the menu; the one item that not only needs to have the price, but also the local cardiac sprecialist's number listed next to it?
my answer was simple: it was the first thing that caught my eye on the menu, and no matter what i tried to distract myself with in terms of taste and health, i kept coming back to that damned fettucine alfredo! i know myself. had i ordered the fish, i would have eaten without tasting it, finished the whole damn thing and not have been satisfied, because what i really wanted in the first place was that oooeey-gooey white mess on a plate.
the dish came. in i went. literally. coming up for air i looked like i had been in a face painting contest with a benjamin moore windsor cream shellac.
i think there was dinner conversation.....i don't remember, my hearing was stifled with alfredo sauce that had trickled into my eardrums.
feeling my once, flowy trapeze sundress morph into a tight-fitting, herve leger-like casing for a sausage, i responsibly pushed my plate away even though i could have easily continued to eat the rest of the buick sized plate. when our nosy waitress came back to "check on me" i made her take away my fork; not my plate, my fork. i wasn't going to begrudge my fellow diner from the six sticks of butter still remaining, but at least without a fork i could no longer partake in the madness. at least not with utensils. you see m'loves, i have zero self-control when it comes to food. torture me, tickle me, beat me down; i can take a lot. but put a plate of cheesy pasta in front of me: uncle!!!
i'm not ashamed. i had a delightful, delicious meal. there's something about fettuccine alfredo that makes me feel like a kid. i ordered it as a child. it's typically the go-to order when we're with others' children. it made my husband happy too. he gleefully slurped up the creamy noodles with abandon, free of care.
afterward, we kept this caution to the wind mood going with a walk down to the ice cream shop: mint chip for him, cotton candy for me.
yesterday it was back to my delicious regime of salads, fruit, and no regrets. you did not break me mr. alfredo!
tell me loves, what are your forbidden foods? do you give in?
tuesday happy m'loves!
give me a beat boys and free my soul....
i'm in the center part of summer's sandy, beach blown hair.
today i'm going to dance down the middle like it's my own, free for all katie runway.
cartwheels, peace signs, booty-shakers-all need apply.
let's drift away m'loves.
joy is
a grilled cheese sandwich.
hide nap and seek.
finally scratching that itchy lust to wander.
popsicles.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRUGvArWXLk]
this song over, and over, and over, and over again. and again.
dreamier live version with johnny depp here {oh! my! god!}
first bites.
laundry fresh.
dates with deliverance.
what's making you happy m'loves?
les chanteuses de 60's
as the weather gets warmer my music taste definitely brightens with the california sunshine.
lately i've been diving back into my sixties french pop.
10th grade, madame jester's french class: i was a goner with just one play of françoise hardy's "tous les garçons et les filles du mon age."
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1Y_7XjkJ0g]
since then i've been in deep smit with the french lassies of the yė yė movement: a musical style lead by females {yee-haw}, mostly in europe, during the 1960's. heavily influenced by the french radio show "salut les copains" where each week a new sweetheart would debut her new song, these girls typically sang sweet lullabies to love lost, love longed for, and all with the innocence of pigtails. these debutantes typically soared straight to number 1.
christine delaroche {this entire video needs to be a 10-page, glossy, fall editorial}.
chantal kelly {love this song: watch it buddy!!: fragile heart here.}
mireille mathieu {less pop, more piaf, but packs a punch nonetheless...great for sunday morning coffee}.
even if you don't fancy the music, the style alone of these damsels françaiseis enough to get lost in you-tube land and google-image country.
wednesday happy m'loves
musical remembrance
i had a great day yesterday.
but even flying high above sunset blvd, hands still ashake from contract signing, stomach still a-knot from dream fulfilling, my mind is never far from our best and bravest.
i may not agree with the battle, but i do support the troop.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nHb_tjNunL4&feature=related]
a sweet, somewhat hokey, homemade you-tube video of real life soldiers and vets, that has wrecked me each of the 7 times i've watched it...
{even the accidental footage of actor barry pepper from 'saving private ryan' ~2:55.....oops}.
one of my favorite 'chicks song.
come home please.
my huckleberry friend
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubeFZwCR2lM&feature=player_embedded#at=50]
wednesday happy m'loves.
weekend happy
hello i love you won't you tell me your name?
what's in your pocket for the weekend lollipops?
tonight, i plan on losing my voice with mumford and son's.
tomorrow, more shouting {microphone assisted} with my gangsta's looking to sweat and crush the constant inner babble of our brains.
tomorrow night i plan on losing my mind in hunkiest's sweet talk and sugar kisses. hopefully with a grilled cheese sandwich thrown in the mix somewhere.
more holla' and calorie crush on sunday morning to help stave off planned damage from deep fisted, easter candy basket binge later.
i'm a sucker for pretty.
marshmallow, nougat, white chocolate, marzipan....flavors which normally produce an upturned my nose; belle them up in lavender, aqua, celadon, azure, a dusty pink?!?! and i'm a sticky-fingered walking mallomar.
so share with me..i adore your comments.
are there champagne brunches in your future? peeps? eggs to be dyed? or are you more: easter's here?
weekend happy to you m'loves!
musical monday
a little melody for your monday m'loves....
wilderness of manitoba, a plum cobbler for my ears, is currently burning up the house speakers.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ij8c-tbhkdM]
their sound is heavy folk.
i can hear the mud on their boots and swear that's rustling corn field vying with harmonica.
we fling the doors open, and wait for pa and laura ingalls to come in from the barn.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCiiyi33kKs]
a sweeter, old time sound for the sharper, more sophisticated {at-first-glance-only} times we're trying to survive.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JtSq5jPrGSU]
wilderness of manitoba's new album is available on itunes for $2.97
un-numb
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c7367icMhuI]
One track mind like a gold fishStuck inside my petri dishI can't breath and I can't smileThis better be worth my while
I feel numb most of the timeThe lower I get the higher I'll climbAnd I will wonder whyI got dark only to shineLooking for the golden lightOh, it's a reasonable sacrificeBurn, burn, burn bright
Forgo family, forgo friendsIt's how it started, how it endsI can open up and cryCoz I've been silent all my life
I feel numb most of the timeThe lower I get the higher I'll climbAnd I will wonder whyI get dark only to shineLooking for the golden lightOh it's a reasonable sacrificeBurn, burn, burn bright
Oh, I get dark oh and I'm in hellI need a friend, oh but I can't yellYeah, I'm no good, no good to anyoneCoz all I care about is being number one
Shine, looking for the golden lightIt's a reasonable sacrificeBurn, burn
Shine, looking for the golden lightOh it's a reasonable sacrifice (sacrifice)
I feel numb most of the timeThe lower I get the higher I'll climbAnd I will wonder whyI get dark only to shine
And I light up the skyStars that burn the brightestFall so fast and pass you byCough like empty lighters
I feel numb most of the timeThe lower I get the higher I'll climbAnd I will wonder whyI get dark only to shine
And I light up the skyStars that burn the brightestFall so fast and pass you bySpark like empty lighters
happy weekend
dears, what's on your weekend docket?
last night's tea-spoon serving of sleep has me nutty for a nap.
i'm already lining up a giant, non-stop, shut-eye marathon.
i can't complain. last evening's late night revelry was joshua radin induced.
hunky hubby and i had hollywood date night (courtesy of my friend mrs. burns) at the music box for our favorite singer/songwriter.
i'm not sure if it was the live music or the time with hh outside our pocket of pattern, but even with the snippet of sleep, i have recovered a stirring of spirit which had been astray.
off to the weekend i go, a sparkle in my heart restored.
midweek music
here is what's playing repeat on my 'pod.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_KCg_QEHtkY]
mumford & sons gallop me face first into a headwind of happy.
listening to their music suffuses me with spring in my step and a smile on my face.
come twirl with me!!
rainy days and mondays
sorry ms carpenter i take issue with your libretto.
if i had my way, rain would appear weekly to wash away our muck.
her windy sidekick tagging along every so often, for extra exfoliation.
and every monday it's my chance to windshield wipe aside my baggage (typically pride and fear) that swaddles me tight in my anxiety blanket.
relief. breath. trust.
rainy days and mondays always get me right.
bon week
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jDj44n5bjWU&feature=player_embedded]
an oldie, but oh so good.
bon iver never fails to quietly rattle my bones; produce that firework lump in my throat.
there's something about the {suggestion?} of impromptu song that always makes me happy.
gotta go loves.
there's much twirling to be had.
hang with me
the last few days it's been dance party usa around here.
{behind closed doors of course...face is still a bit grizzly}
all summer long i've been waiting to buy this song on itunes.
it's here, and the beasts and i are shimmying & hipshaking ourselves silly on repeat.
now if only i could have a giant sock hop with all of you; where, with arms in the air, we'd twirl, giggle, and bounce silly to this happy song.
here's to finding your inner disco.
i SEE you
holiday weekend stop acting coy.
stomp yourself up to my porch;
better have packed a bag too.
i'm readly to lounge languidly, sip sleepily, and rest richly.
turning off phones, brain, computer, and mouth {you're welcome robert}.
with my summer track on repeat, we'll burn the scent of jasmine one last time;
commemorating our season gone by, making room for period anew.
happy weekend.
fashionably late
summer has arrived.
she sauntered in round 3 o'clock yesterday afternoon, and took no time to get comfortable.
ceiling fans whirl, windows stay raised, yet the air feels like flannel.
tonight it's mint juleps, nina simone, and every door in the house open to a neighborly breeze.
fools rush in
sigh...
some are such a level of cool i choke breathing in their opposite air.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBAkOQtuWMk&feature=related]
an ending. please.
this week ends the deadliest month in the afghanistan war.
nothing really more to say. crying feels better.
i have the flu so my maudlin mood magnifies with whims of vapors and fits of fury.
being sick sends me into my weepiest, most melodramatic, has-been actress theatrics.
antony and the johnsons play in every speaker of the house. all tv's muted on msnbc {2:15 it gets good}.
wishing you peace this weekend my friends.
for our soldiers:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCbqvJWGI5k&feature=related]