The Treasure of Being Happy

11 Days of Christmas

Even though my family prefers to watch TV during the holiday, I am still collecting Christmas music to play during dinner. I am hoping to get most of the group outside to have a family meal, but football takes precedent.

Both Amazon and iTunes have free music this year and I am making the most of it. I just love holiday music and this year is so special to me that I want all the senses to be overjoyed with stimulation. Does that make sense or maybe I have just had too much sugar.

I would love to pipe music throughout the house, but that would interrupt with the game on the tube so I dare not. But it will be nice when Paul and I bake cookies and share some holiday romance.

I also have Christmas albums passed down from my family that I have been listening to for the past few weeks. Most are from Firestone featuring a gift motif on the cover complete with plastic holly berries. Julie Andrews, Robert Goulet and Perry Como lend their voices to the vinyl records and to me that is Christmas. It’s hard really getting into the spirit with the latest pop icons.

My favorite Christmas song is “Do They Know It’s Christmas” and Guy refers to this as the Nico Christmas Song since is really is pretty dreary. You can tell Bob Geldolf grew up in Catholic Ireland since it plays on the guilt that so many children like me have endured throughout the ages.

Remember Vinyl? If so then you’re old like me.

 

Friday night at ArtPool was a celebration in vinyl – like record vinyl – like before CDs and MP3s. ArtPool is a fantastic and inspiring gallery downtown and Marina (the owner) has thrown some fabulous parties. This is my first. Unsure of what to wear for the record party, I went with the basics and wore a vinyl corset that I haven’t sucked myself into in years, but it still looked great. I love the feeling of being back out in the world and partying with a sense of ease and awe.

 

 

I lost part of myself in my last relationship and needed to get back to who I was and on the right path. The cool and sexy haircut helped (as most women will tell you a makeover works wonders!) I needed to show off and Guy was the perfect accessory. Not to look just like a rundown bondage girl, I made a hat out of a 33-1/3 record (AJA from Steely Dan – I don’t like them so I didn’t care about the album.) If sewed the center to a beret and made it so the LP could spin which got a lot of people involved in entertaining themselves.

The party also was an artist draw as a cartoon artist did portraits on painted CDs (mine was fabulous) and a new designer showed off her musically inspired fashions. In fact, the artist (name escapes me) has been contracted to do a set of cards for Marvel Comics – big time.

It was an amazing night. We even got the party started with a celebration at Georgie’s for Darryl’s birthday and that really made it a great evening. Guy even made a new friend.

 

Only thing is I didn’t get one offer of a date (which still puzzles me since I looked so cool.)

My Own Personal Jesus – Depeche Mode, 7th Times The Charm

Today, like pretty much every day this past week and many days since I was about 12 years old has been devoted musically to Depeche Mode. This was the seventh time I have seen them and I think it was the best show.

I first heard DM when I got a K-Tel record featuring the new wave acts of the day including The Human League, Haircut 100, Kim Wilde and more. The song was Dreaming of Me and I loved the synth pop tone and the monotone vocals. Over the years, I have wept to their songs (Blasphemous Rumors), dreamt of true love (Somebody), found passion (I Feel You), found a spoken voice (Waiting for the Night) and was tempted into new forms of passion (Master and Servant).

Tonight was one of those magical experiences. The venue was outside and we were pretty close. I felt surrounded by the cool breeze swaying along to David Gahan’s hip gyrations (the same dance he has done for 20 years with his little tight behind – no sign of past junkie-hood here.) Martin was bespectled in silver sequins still showing off his skinny arms and looking adorable doing it. The close-ups did reveal that age has occurred, but for those us of swooning over them for 20 plus years, who cares?

This was one of the best song lists that I have ever heard. For those of you who prefer the pre-86 band, you would have been disappointed. Mixing up the old and the new, they began with a few songs off their new album Songs of the Universe (In Chains and Wrong). Pulling from the archives to make a full circle of their talents, Question of Time and Fly on the Windscreen and Stripped from Black Celebration and Never Let Me Down Again and Behind the Wheel from Music for the Masses soon followed. Take a few off of Violator (Enjoy the Silence and Policy of Truth), Songs of Faith and Devotion (I Feel You, Walking in My Shoes and In Your Room) and Ultra (It’s No Good and Home) and they covered the 90s in full scale. Add Precious from their 2006 release Playing The Angel and you have a fabulous concert.

Two encores with the first one kicked off with Somebody (I did cry and vow to have that kind of love) and the second punctuated with two favorites, Personal Jesus (a very religious experience) and Waiting for the Night.

I went with my friend Nancy and her sister Bethany and we all danced our asses off. Nancy is 6 months pregnant and took a couple breaks, but I know her little girl will come out shaking her tushy. I sure got quite a workout shaking my hips like a stripper and shimming my spine like a hypnotized asp. Even now I feel the groove grab me.

Mend Again

Yes, I know yesterday’s poem was sappy, but the wound was still very fresh. Each day helps a bit as I work in my yard and play with the puppies and realize that one day I will be truly happy again.

My routine has a hole. I picked up working out again, writing everything down, playing with puppies and making my house a home, but there is still something missing. So I wrap my arms around the poetry project and force my words to come out. I also have this book that shares 366 prompts for other writing projects inspiring at least 30 minutes of pen to paper a day. So now I will not only write a poem (hopefully not too sappy) each day, but I will journal other notes to dust of the cobwebs of my creativity.

It’s interesting how a bit of heart break can create something so dynamically new and different. A few years back (the last time my heart was broken) I continued on my journey for something new and found it in Portland, OR. I love that town. I explored for five days all by myself, meeting new people, enjoying great food and letting my heart fill with joy as it mended. There were the most dramatic waterfalls, afternoons at the Chinese Gardens, strolls through the Rose Gardens, wanderings along the Columbia River, hours awakened in Powell’s Bookstore and the constant companionship of my friends Chris and Guy over the phone line. I ate the best tomato bisque, drank only the Pinots of the region and ate artisan cheese with seasonal apples. Only once did I fall apart, and it was in my hotel room 3 days into the trip when I felt both lost and alone. But even then, 4,000 miles away from anyone who loved me, I let it out and had another day of adventures. This time I lack funds for a big trip and have too much responsibility to leave, but I know that I can mend again. But I always need a plan.

It’s all about staying busy. That was my intention in the first place when I was curbed. Thankfully work is plentiful and tasks at home, with two puppies, are always busy. But those moments when there is a drop of quiet or a lonely Beatles song playing in my head (For No One) I get all teary-eyed and feel that familiar pain in my chest. It is like having an illness. You know you will get better, you just have to go through all the painful treatment to get there, like cancer. You may want to give up from time-to-time when your head pounds and all your mind’s eye can see is loneliness, but you have to trust the love docs when they say that this too shall pass.
It is funny though how certain songs are the soundtrack to my heartache. With Brian it was “The First Cut Is The Deepest” and this reiterated for years afterward. Even now, when I hear it on the radio or in a movie, I am dramatically regressed to a bawling mess. This time it is “For No One” since that was playing in his truck for weeks and each time it bounces around my brain I just want to curl up in a ball and let the world pass me by. Yet that album also has “Here There And Everywhere” a love song like no other, and “Good Day Sunshine” to balance out the pain of the first. Even now I wish it would stop.

Songs To Listen To When You're Blue

I Feel Loved – Depeche Mode
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_lZP0MPLRA&feature=related
David Gahan singing Martin Gore’s words of feeling loved. What more is there to say?!

We Don’t Need this Fascist Groove Thang – Heaven 17
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yjPGDZIGkM
The retro 80s beat analyzing the politics of Reagan throws me back to the times when spiked hair and day-glo clothes could brighten any day. As you shake that fascist groove thang, you can shake away the blues.

Superman – REM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7N3IypQVYg
College angst had nothing on this. “You don’t really love that guy you make it with now do you?” I wonder if anyone asked Michael Stipes that. It’s a love song with an angry indie, stalker kind of feel. Just what I want.

Shoot the Runner – Kasabian
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-n584fbl5LU
Yes I am in love with the lead singer, but that aside “I’m her king and she’s my queen, bitch.” The driving beat and catchy chorus always gets me moving even while in my seat at work. The song along can make one feel better, and his Ewan McGregor good looks don’t hurt.

Kiss Off – Violent Femmes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gproa6vzgws&feature=related
The title pretty much covers this one too; a touch of anger and pain with the throbbing guitar and easy repetition. Plus there is counting and I love that. “I forget what 8 was for.”

Blitzkrieg Bop – The Ramones
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=htR14DZ-O-4
A touch of sadness since I will always remember the morning I heard about Joe Ramone’s death. But you have to admit, the way he says “Bop” is just plain funny. Add on the powerhouse of guitar and bass paired with a crazy man on drums and you have one hell of an upbeat tune.

Like a Virgin – Madonna
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-k3sMC1l4Y
In what I consider her hay day. This song’s Minnie Mouse-voiced muse is just too good to not want to wear a wedding dress and dance on a gondola.

Not Big – Lily Allen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zarl1kTCjco&feature=PlayList&p=0084B6D8C6BB96CE&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=18
Just mean. I love it in a way. She says things I wish I could, but then again …. Even if they aren’t true. “I’m gonna do what you did to me, gonna reciprocate.”

Radio Radio – Elvis Costello and the Attractions
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3j7JFP6ZOCI
The beauty of “I want to bite the hand that feeds me” is just sublime. The barrage of guitar and drums with his angry-young man whine brings a smile to my face.

She’s So Modern – The Boomtown Rats
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oPKWTJSuRFM
Frantic rhythm with an indescribable voice (ok to describe Bob’s voice – snarly, wiry, sarcastic and unmusical) is all I need to want to dance on the furniture. I love Sir Bob and the Rats, especially for tunes like this that balance the dark nature Mondays and their appeal.

Song List

I have been spending my mornings, two so far, riding my bike. I thought it was toast since it had been over a year since I rode and the tires were flatter than flat. But in the despair of having to move my body the other night I pumped up the tires and set loose. This morning I went out for about 30 minutes and explored the adjacent neighborhoods checking out the menagerie of different era homes and landscaping (all big in my sights with the re-dos I am in the process of doing.) Trees are filled with tangerines and oranges and snowless lawns sparkle instead with sweated dew.

I let the iPod pick the tunes and it really did a fine job starting me off with Alive and Kicking (Simple Minds) which got my blood flowing and the burn in my thighs ignited. Respect (Aretha) set me on my path, in yes a clichéd way, as to why I am working so hard to take care of myself. This Corrosion (Sisters of Mercy) sent me to those nights spent in the clubs and finding my niche with the night people (so not me now). As I started to slow down, Rock This Town strung me up to pump even harder and Brian Setzer’s sexy jazz voice made me remember that I used to love dancing to this beat. The iPod then chose Electric Barbarella (Duran Duran) showcased the damned desire for perfection that some people seek no matter how shallow. My mood started to falter as the endorphins seemed to rise and fall (I didn’t know they would do that when one was still in the throws of exercise) and Natural One (Folk Implosion) revved me up again with a drum beat to die for. Finally to slow down, but not pass out In Bloom (Nirvana) rang through my ears and let me work into my day nicely.

All in all, it was a wonderful experience. I felt very alive, very fit and even a bit thinner just taking care of myself. I think this will be a new habit and I wonder what the iPod gods have in store for my ears and soul tomorrow.

40 Things I Love About St. Pete - It's A Torturous Town

This was going to be one entry, but it has turned into two since I think both need some exposure. The first being that St. Petersburg is not “God’s waiting room” as I have heard so often. Even a couple years ago when I was returning from Italy through JFK, the customs guy said, “Aren’t you too young to live there?” “It has changed, a lot,” I replied and grabbed my crap from his hands.
No. St Pete is really becoming a great place for people of all ages, and that includes all types of people. There are flashy condos downtown for the upwardly mobile; faux fancy restaurants for the young hipsters wanting to be seen; posh bars with a plethora of fab music; street fairs and markets for artists and foodies; dive bars for the losers like me who just want a drink; and music and tastes of all sorts and all kinds. This brings me to Friday night and the Genitorturers concert. I have been following the band for only about 7 years and was drawn to them when I saw one of their adult shows at The Castle, a goth club in Ybor City.
Full of debauchery and salacious perversion, the band encompasses not only hard rock-and-roll, but a performance that draws me every time. Their adult shows include forms of sadomasochistic torture, with willing volunteers and enough nudity to keep the strip clubs closed for an evening. And that is both the audience and the crowd. Gen, the lead singer is a strutting siren belting out the likes of AC/DC and Divinyls covers, as well as their own original slapped-jawed raw rock.
To be honest, the music is only a minute part of the draw, it is the costuming and performance art that keeps me coming back for more. Friday night they played our renowned outdoor venue, Janus Landing for an all-ages show (meaning no real bondage and discipline, just acting out – right.) No old folks were there, I promise. The crowd included people like me, old punksters dressed all in black, but comfortable and Ronn who had the perfect opportunity to wear his Family Guy tee advertising the size of the Peter on the shirt. But then there were the party queens, goth models in leather, latex and electrical tape prancing through the crowd to latch on to their mohawked boyfriends’ arms. It was lovely. Once I wanted to be them and at the last show I did deck out in the vinyl corset, mini and fishnets, but it was just too cold to try that again.
Ronn loved the eye candy and I can’t blame him. On stage Gen drove those lost men to their deaths with her mistress motif and brash condemnations. Her backup dancers, if you want to call them dancers just to give them a title, relished the cool air clad only in electrical tape over their nipples and barely there thongs. Nothing was really left to the imagination as Gen molested and sodomized them on stage with the freakiest dildo I ever saw. I loved it. It was like a sex show in Amsterdam, but of course way tamer and it left me wanting more.
Sparks flew as one of the girls used a sander on her metal g-string and her moans of orgasmic bliss rocked down upon us. I couldn’t help but sing along to “I Touch Myself” and drive Ronn into even a further frenzy, and I liked it. I used to be all into the goth and D/s scene, but then along came a real job, a few more pounds and the lack of will to work that hard.
One man I used to date was a whip maker, leather and such, and had created whips and other art pieces for the band. He referred to himself as a sensual sadist, but I am not sure where sensual came in. Needless to say, but I will say it anyway, that didn’t last long, though I did get a mini flogger out of the deal. I know the band follows this alternative credo, but I am not sure how much of the audience were imbedded into that way of thinking and playing. I have a feeling that a few just had extra cash to shop at the easily accessible Hot Topic (we didn’t have it so easy when I was 20, but I won’t go into a Michael rant.)
So there you have it, not all retirees. There are young punks, submissive sluts, matronly mistresses, perverse gentlemen, excited exhibitionists and very satisfied voyeurs in St. Pete, you just have to look for them, if you are really interested.
As a side note, that same night there were two other events going on, allowing for different aspects of our town to wander. Ribfest hosted STYX (ugh) and the Dome was housing the Home Show. It takes all kinds to make a cool town like this.

Life in A Day

On Saturday, Guy and I took a whirlwind tour that took us from the country to Hollywood, Sweden, Spain and finally San Francisco. Well sort of.

We started out our day visiting my sister. It’s been a while since I have seen her, and it was on the way to our next stop, so I thought it would be nice to get together. We caught up about her kids and grandkids and perused the little shops of downtown Plant City. I used to live here when I was very wee (about 3) and spent many summers with her and my other sister in a place that was the country compared to the suburbs I lived in. In fact, at one point I was supposed to live with her and her kids when I was a teenager, but my dad nixed that and now we only see each other once in a while. She took us to a quaint restaurant called The Whistle Stop. It is so named for two reasons I suppose – its proximity to the railroad tracks and what could have once been the train station and for the book by Fannie Flagg. I didn’t see fried green tomatoes on the menu, but I did spot right off something called a Cherry Slammer (or something like that). It is soda water with a large dollop of cherry syrup to make for a brightly hued, summery-flavored concoction that I adored.

We wandered after lunch to let it settle and ambled through rows and rows of delicate antiques in the little shops that lined the streets. Guy shared tales of shooting some commercial or such there and my sister spilled the dirt about some of the locals, you know things like who is cheating on whom and who has a drinking problem and other small-town gossip. I loved it. She also took us to the fabulous organic food store The Corner Store. It is owned by a young couple and has a homey feel that makes you want to get a cup of peppermint tea and a ginger cookie and relax in the kids’ play area. Maybe once my house is paid off I can go to work in a place like that, making a couple hundred a week, eating only the best foods and meeting cool people. It’s a thought.

Next stop was at the end of our mad dash to Orlando and the Orlando Film Festival. One of Guy’s buddies directed a short film called This Man’s Life. The lead actor, Michael Rooker was amazing and he was there along with the director, Todd Thompson. Sometimes it’s funny when you recognize something from somewhere and it plays with your head all day. That is how it was when I saw Rooker. I remembered him from a film I saw 20 years ago called Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer. It haunted me all day wondering if he was the same guy and by God he was (after a short look-up on imdb.com). It’s odd I didn’t recognize him when they were shooting the movie (Ronn, Guy and I went to the set last year), but now it rang a bell like a loud din.

We only stayed for that one film since IKEA was calling us – or in reality, we were calling IKEA (to the tune of the Simpson’s song, “I-Key-Ya do do do dododododododododod) I am never prepared going into this Disney Land for home décor addicts. We strolled through the entire store, ate a dinner of Swedish meatballs and potatoes and finally made our purchases. Guy wondered how we were going to kill the afternoon before our next stop of this tragical history tour, but 3-1/2 hours later we were dragging our tired asses to the car with a squiggly mirror, candles in all shapes and fragrances, a few kitchen tchotchkes and a lint brush in tow. My next visit, will hopefully be to get all the stuff I need for my bathroom and kitchen since I am giving them a budgeted makeover now, because the big makeover will have to wait another 5 years. But a little new tile, new sink and new towels and such will really make the room shine.

At 6:15 we climbed into the car for what was supposed to be our last stop of the evening. Guy’s old neighbor (meaning she used to be his neighbor, not a chronological reference) is an opera singer. She lives in New York and usually performs in the city, but she took some time off from her normal gig and agreed to be in the Barber of Seville at the Polk Theatre in Lakeland. She had worked with the conductor and liked to get back to her old digs once in a while. Anne is one of the most beautiful people I know. I had seen her in only one performance before, La Traviatta and that had been about 5 years ago. The last time I saw her, she paid a visit to Guy’s house one summer evening in 2006. The reason I remember it so clearly is because it was when Guy and I were addicted to Channel Four’s Celebrity Big Brother 4 with Pete Burns, Jodie Marsh, Dennis Rodman and Chantelle. We got hooked on it while flying to Anchorage and only doled out a few episodes at a time to keep the buzz running. On that evening we had taken extra long to watch an episode since we had to chat about each act. Anne came over and drew us back to reality. God I loved that show!!!!

On Saturday, we were dressed in shorts and tees and had to find a place to change for the upscale performance. Guy pulled into a closed furniture store parking lot and we proceeded to disrobe and then get dressed again, all in a matter of minutes. It was a touch scary since we were exposing ourselves in public and it was a touch suspicious at the closed store. I am sure there is some interesting camera footage floating around that place. Guy kept it light though with his usual sense of humor. “Whatever you do, if the cops show up just tell them we were having sex,” he said. “Why?” I asked. “If we tell them we’re married to other people and just having sex they will think nothing of it. Just don’t say we are changing clothes to go to the opera.” I got it. Polk County is not known for its diverse thinking, but they are known for hate crimes and redneck teens beating each other up while on tape. Now you see the point in the lie.

The opera was great and I only slept through about 20 minutes of the second half (it was a long day and I was cold.) We paid our respects to Anne and got a couple pictures of the cast and off to home. Of course we had to make a pit stop on the way since we were so close to Georgie’s and we had both gone all day without a drink. Georgie’s was fabulous and packed with Madonna and Kylie streaming across the air. We each had a Maker’s Mark Manhattan and relived the wonders of the day.

It has been a while since Guy and I hung out, mainly because we both have men in our lives and we prefer to spend time making these romances grow (or at least fake like we are doing that.) I missed his companionship a lot.

Me, Myself and iPod - Day 17

I love my iPod, I really do. I used to make fun of Guy for his unnatural relationship with this little bit of metal and plastic, but now I sort of understand. Though I will never be as skewed as he was when he first got his.
Story time: Guy got his iPod for Christmas a few years back. Patrick was down and drying his clothes in the dryer, the one without a timer that just kept running and running. When we were leaving to go to Joan’s for dinner, Guy brought his iPod. My mother’s voice emanated from deep within my soul as I stated, “You’re not taking that with us since this is a social occasion, and you don’t need to be plugged into that thing and ignoring everyone else.” In true Guy fashion, there was no anger at my attempt at power, but humor instead. “But what if the house burns down because the dryer won’t turn off? I could lose my iPod.” My response, “You mean you could lose your entire house and you only care about your iPod?” and his was delivered with an evil smile and a shake of the head, “For now? Yes.”
So it took me a while and now we are about to celebrate our one year anniversary, my iPod and I. I can’t live without it at my side. Like my phone, I can’t leave home without it, though I have forgotten it a couple of times and kicked myself for my absentmindedness.
Why do I love it so much? Like a true companion, it never lets me down. If I don’t like what it is saying at the moment, I move on to something else. It gives me a break when I want to just veg with massage music to whisk away the stresses of the day. I can listen to the Oprah network for a spirit jolt or for a laugh catch up with the humorous anecdotes and puns on “Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me.” Do I need a story? There is one with “This American Life” and “Studio 360”.
Plus the music. I have so many choices on there and playlists for lounging (a little Ann Margret), working out (Ramones and Gwen Stefani), relaxing (Sounds from the Rainforest) and party (Edith Piaf, Stereolab, Isaac Hayes).
What about a meditation to go to sleep? Got that too. And ones to help ease sickness, releasing fear and being in the moment.

It’s like the best radio station ever. I even figured that in the right mix, I can appreciate so much more music too. Judas Priest next to Judy Garland is nice, as is the Beastie Boys along side Burt Bacharach.
Yes I love my iPod, and I am so grateful I broke down to get the little nano. Now I just have to figure out how to get the iTunes store to work right and I can add even more like Rick Springfield, Mika and any new Lily Allen.