Category: Eat, Watch, Love
You Don’t Own Me
At a time in our country when facts are alternative and grabbing women by the p***y without consent is acceptable, standing in line to meet Margaret Atwood has become important.
I did just that on Sunday, April 30 at the UntitledTown Book and Author Festival in Green Bay.
In case you haven’t read the book or watched the new TV series on Hulu, I highly recommend both! Book first, though. Always.
Holiday Greetings From Your Chiropractor
I see my chiropractor for an adjustment every other month or so to keep my migraines at bay, and we spent the 15 minutes with the usual small talk. But he is one of the lucky ones with an excellent memory who remembers specific details from our last conversation.
“Didn’t you mention that you were writing a book? How is it coming along?”
“What’s the novel about?”
“What other stories do you write?”
Right before Christmas I finally checked my mailbox and found a holiday greetings card from his office, and you’ll never guess what it said:
At least I know I can count on my chiropractor to hold me accountable for writing my book!
I’ve always been a little jealous of artistic people whose aesthetics are as creative as their minds. You know the ones … edgy make up, multicolored hair, layered outfits that shouldn’t look as fabulous off the hanger as it does. I see them as walking advertisements for their creative brand.
My hair is my thing. It’s always been long, frizzy, curly and out of control. There have been so many times that I wanted to do something crazy like chop it off or bleach it blonde, but I never had the guts. Even going to a medium cut left me craving for my long hair again.
But this year sucked, you guys, so I decided I was done wishing and daydreaming. It was my turn to advertise the colorful, crazy ideas floating around in my head.
And so it began …
Thank you to my friend who Photoshopped this creepy photo of me into Harley Quinn. Guess I know who I’ll be for Halloween next year!
Life’s Illusions From Both Sides Now
The older I get, the more I listen to Joni Mitchell.
The more I listen to Joni Mitchell, the more I realize don’t know what I thought I knew.
* * *
Here are two different versions of Both Sides Now to fit whatever type of mood you’re in today.
“Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air
and feather canyons everywhere, I’ve looked at clouds that way.
But now they only block the sun, they rain and snow on everyone.
So many things I would have done but clouds got in my way.
I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now,
from up and down, and still somehow
it’s cloud illusions I recall.
I really don’t know clouds at all.
Moons and Junes and ferris wheels, the dizzy dancing way that you feel
as every fairy tale comes real; I’ve looked at love that way.
But now it’s just another show. You leave ’em laughing when you go
and if you care, don’t let them know, don’t give yourself away.
I’ve looked at love from both sides now,
from give and take, and still somehow
it’s love’s illusions that I recall.
I really don’t know love at all.
Tears and fears and feeling proud, to say “I love you” right out loud,
dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I’ve looked at life that way.
But now old friends are acting strange, they shake their heads, they say
Something’s lost but something’s gained in living every day.
I’ve looked at life from both sides now,
from win and lose, and still somehow
it’s life’s illusions I recall.
I really don’t know life at all.”
– Joni Mitchell
David Bowie has died at age 69.
Today felt like I’d lost an old friend. One that you no longer speak with, but still have memories surface every time you listen to a nostalgic tune. David Bowie has been popping up a lot lately in my life, which has made it all the more strange that he passed away.
Jan. 10 was a day, eight years ago now, of a funeral. It was a day that rattled me like a caged bird. And now in 2016, there was another death on Jan. 10. This time of a rockstar that linked me back to those days leading up to that moment. Only grieving for David Bowie ended up being, in a sense, therapeutic.
Before I turned in for the night, I read Elizabeth Gilbert’s post:
I watched his goodbye message to his fans in the form of a music video.
“Look up here, I’m in heaven
I’ve got scars that can’t be seen
I’ve got drama, can’t be stolen
Everybody knows me now
This way or no way
You know, I’ll be free
Just like that bluebird
Now ain’t that just like me”
– David Bowie
* * *
“I am no bird;
and no net ensnares me;
I am a free human being
with an independent will
(which I now exert to leave you).”
– Jane Eyre
Now ain’t that always the way?