Song of the Day: "Out Of My League" by Stephen Speaks
it's her hair and her eyes today
that just simply take me away
and the feeling that i'm falling further in love
makes me shiver but in a good way
all the times i have sat and stared
as she thoughtfully thumbs through her hair
and she purses her lips, bats her eyes as she plays,
with me sitting there slack-jawed and nothing to say
coz i love her with all that i am
and my voice shakes along with my hands
coz she’s all that I see and she’s all that I need
and i'm out of my league once again
it's a masterful melody when she calls out my name to me
as the world spins around her she laughs, rolls her eyes
and i feel like i'm falling but it's no surprise
coz i love her with all that i am
and my voice shakes along with my hands
cause it's frightening to be swimming in this strange sea
but i'd rather be here than on land
yes she's all that i see and she's all that i need
and i'm out of my league once again
it's her hair and her eyes today
that just simply take me away
and the feeling that i'm falling further in love
makes me shiver but in a good way
all the times i have sat and stared
as she thoughtfully thumbs through her hair
and she purses her lips, bats her eyes as she plays,
with me sitting there slack-jawed and nothing to say
coz i love her with all that i am
and my voice shakes along with my hands
cause it's frightening to be swimming in this strange sea
but i'd rather be here than on land
yes she's all that i see and she's all that i need
and i'm out of my league once again
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Darn that Ken Burns and curse PBS. I should know better than to watch that station. I get sucked into a program and then before I know it I've lost a week. Happens every time. The music is particularly good; generally Burns sticks with folk and popular music of the time but this time he included some classical stuff including the Faure Elegy and I think I might have heard Beethoven 7 at some point. As usual from Burns, incredible work.
Gotta go now - 3rd installment on any minute now.
"Personally, I feel that some such setback as that -- tragic though it was for many Americans, for whom it would always be too late -- was not entirely a bad thing. It was all right to have a good opinion of ourselves, but we Americans were so smug with our cockiness. We somehow felt that just because we were Americans we could whip our weight in wildcats. And we had got it into our heads that production alone would win the war."
-Ernie Pyle on the disasters in North Africa
Gotta go now - 3rd installment on any minute now.
"Personally, I feel that some such setback as that -- tragic though it was for many Americans, for whom it would always be too late -- was not entirely a bad thing. It was all right to have a good opinion of ourselves, but we Americans were so smug with our cockiness. We somehow felt that just because we were Americans we could whip our weight in wildcats. And we had got it into our heads that production alone would win the war."
-Ernie Pyle on the disasters in North Africa
Monday, September 17, 2007
Thursday, September 06, 2007
OH my God.
Oh MY God.
Oh my GOD.
OH. MY. GOD!!!
OK, so I have a really good story.
I got home from work after another long day determined to get some tasks done around here that have been much put off. I got to the grocery store, put dishes in the dishwasher, and prepared to finally do my laundry.
Some context: I'd noticed my bedroom had been... well... a little smelly for the past couple of days. My first thought was the cats had left me a present, as they sometimes do in protest at the state of their litter box. I rooted around a little bit, but nothing was out in the open and I didn't have time to search too hard - haven't been home much this week due to work. Still no sign of why it smelled... hmm... maybe it's the laundry?
So last night, I sniffed the basket.
OK, it's the laundry. Not good.
I figured I must have put a wet washcloth in there or something and it had migrated towards the bottom and started to get a little ripe. Obviously a sign that I need to get moving and get this washing clothes thing taken care of.
So I got home from the grocery store, sorted my piles, and brought them down to the laundry room.
I washed. Hmm... do I still smell something, or am I imagining things?
I dried. I opened the dryer. I smelled...
OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!
THERE'S A DEAD MOUSE! IN THE DRYER! IN MY LAUNDRY! A MOUSE! DEAD! LAUNDRY! DEAD! MOUSE!
OH MY GOD!
So I went back to my apartment, saying "Oh my God!" the entire way down the hall, in an attempt to find something to pick the mouse up with. The clean mouse, being I'd washed and dried it. Good Lord. I got paper towels first but couldn't figure out how to get the thing in the paper towel without touching it, so I Oh My Godded my way back to my apartment again to root around for another solution. My eyes lit upon my junk mail. I grabbed that and between the paper toweling and the ads I was able to pick the thing up quick and chuck it straight in the laundry room communal garbage can. I should have disposed of it outside, I suppose, but screw that.
So now, imagine this, I'm doing laundry again. Two more washes, each. Ick.
How the thing got in here I don't know. Dad thought it perhaps snuck in through the air conditioner. Entirely possible. But why? It's not cold outside yet, and this house presumably contains enough Eau de Cat to keep out any rodent with half a brain.
I have gotten over the slight low grade panic, but I am still definetly grossed out. It was dead in my clothes...
And I obviously live with two worthless freeloaders. What the hell?
Oh MY God.
Oh my GOD.
OH. MY. GOD!!!
OK, so I have a really good story.
I got home from work after another long day determined to get some tasks done around here that have been much put off. I got to the grocery store, put dishes in the dishwasher, and prepared to finally do my laundry.
Some context: I'd noticed my bedroom had been... well... a little smelly for the past couple of days. My first thought was the cats had left me a present, as they sometimes do in protest at the state of their litter box. I rooted around a little bit, but nothing was out in the open and I didn't have time to search too hard - haven't been home much this week due to work. Still no sign of why it smelled... hmm... maybe it's the laundry?
So last night, I sniffed the basket.
OK, it's the laundry. Not good.
I figured I must have put a wet washcloth in there or something and it had migrated towards the bottom and started to get a little ripe. Obviously a sign that I need to get moving and get this washing clothes thing taken care of.
So I got home from the grocery store, sorted my piles, and brought them down to the laundry room.
I washed. Hmm... do I still smell something, or am I imagining things?
I dried. I opened the dryer. I smelled...
OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD!!!!!
THERE'S A DEAD MOUSE! IN THE DRYER! IN MY LAUNDRY! A MOUSE! DEAD! LAUNDRY! DEAD! MOUSE!
OH MY GOD!
So I went back to my apartment, saying "Oh my God!" the entire way down the hall, in an attempt to find something to pick the mouse up with. The clean mouse, being I'd washed and dried it. Good Lord. I got paper towels first but couldn't figure out how to get the thing in the paper towel without touching it, so I Oh My Godded my way back to my apartment again to root around for another solution. My eyes lit upon my junk mail. I grabbed that and between the paper toweling and the ads I was able to pick the thing up quick and chuck it straight in the laundry room communal garbage can. I should have disposed of it outside, I suppose, but screw that.
So now, imagine this, I'm doing laundry again. Two more washes, each. Ick.
How the thing got in here I don't know. Dad thought it perhaps snuck in through the air conditioner. Entirely possible. But why? It's not cold outside yet, and this house presumably contains enough Eau de Cat to keep out any rodent with half a brain.
I have gotten over the slight low grade panic, but I am still definetly grossed out. It was dead in my clothes...
And I obviously live with two worthless freeloaders. What the hell?
Sunday, September 02, 2007
My entire body hurts.
Dancing like a maniac for 3 1/2 hours followed by sitting in a car much of the next day will do that to you.
Why, oh why do I insist on doing the Pony so vertically? Why do I have to hop on the Electric Slide turn? Why didn't I take off my 3" heels before the returned soldier dragged me out on the floor? Why did I wear those heels in the first place?
I have blisters on my toes, my calves have seized up, my back cracks every time I move. This had better be over by tomorrow morning.
I have to say, though. I've been to loads of weddings. Likely in the hundreds, somewhere. And this has to be about the best one I've ever been at. Well, it may be #2, as seeing a bride breathing fire in her wedding dress is probably never going to be beaten.
It was just perfect. Casual, on the lake at sunset, and them.
So many people seem to have this image in their head of what The Ideal Wedding must be. White dress, matching bridesmaids, fancy flowers, white tablecloths. Tuxes and suits, satin and heels dyed to match. The ever-present Canon. Oh, how I hate that thing.
The only person in anything remotely like a tux was the groom, who left off the suit coat portion. The 7 month old son of the couple dropped the ring box in the grass. The bride giggled when she read her vows, stumbling a bit over the words she wrote. The groom sang his vows, to a tune he wrote and with the accompaniment of his guitar that his buddy forgot to tune before the ceremony. We stood out in the grass and watched them gaze into each other's eyes. At least one onlooker was holding a beer.
We all cried.
It's a second wedding for them both. None too elaborate, none too fancy, none too ornate. They both had been there, done that. Realized they'd made a mistake. Now that they'd finally found who they were meant to be with, this time was for them, to fit who they really were and not who they presumed they should be.
Perfect.
Dancing like a maniac for 3 1/2 hours followed by sitting in a car much of the next day will do that to you.
Why, oh why do I insist on doing the Pony so vertically? Why do I have to hop on the Electric Slide turn? Why didn't I take off my 3" heels before the returned soldier dragged me out on the floor? Why did I wear those heels in the first place?
I have blisters on my toes, my calves have seized up, my back cracks every time I move. This had better be over by tomorrow morning.
I have to say, though. I've been to loads of weddings. Likely in the hundreds, somewhere. And this has to be about the best one I've ever been at. Well, it may be #2, as seeing a bride breathing fire in her wedding dress is probably never going to be beaten.
It was just perfect. Casual, on the lake at sunset, and them.
So many people seem to have this image in their head of what The Ideal Wedding must be. White dress, matching bridesmaids, fancy flowers, white tablecloths. Tuxes and suits, satin and heels dyed to match. The ever-present Canon. Oh, how I hate that thing.
The only person in anything remotely like a tux was the groom, who left off the suit coat portion. The 7 month old son of the couple dropped the ring box in the grass. The bride giggled when she read her vows, stumbling a bit over the words she wrote. The groom sang his vows, to a tune he wrote and with the accompaniment of his guitar that his buddy forgot to tune before the ceremony. We stood out in the grass and watched them gaze into each other's eyes. At least one onlooker was holding a beer.
We all cried.
It's a second wedding for them both. None too elaborate, none too fancy, none too ornate. They both had been there, done that. Realized they'd made a mistake. Now that they'd finally found who they were meant to be with, this time was for them, to fit who they really were and not who they presumed they should be.
Perfect.
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