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January 2009
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Another reason my ears suck

I don’t know why but my brain is convinced that the song White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes is not new. I heard it and went oh wow, I remember listening to that song! Except I couldn’t have heard it years ago on one of the summer vacations we used to take because supposedly it’s new. I say supposedly because I SWEAR TO YOU I’ve heard that song years and years ago. This is not the first time my brain has done this to me. The song Disenchanted by My Chemical Romance? Again. I would have testified that it was a cover when I heard it. Because for all that I believed Gerard Way hadn’t sung it before, the SONG sounded like something I’d already heard.

I really hate it when this happens. I cannot even tell you how much it bothers me. I end up spending hours googling and making family listen to the songs going, “Doesn’t that sound like something else?” and “Who originally sang that?” The problem I think is that maybe the guitars or the drums or something or some combinations of something is similar enough to some other song and it turns out that one thing is how I associate the song.

I don’t store entire things in my memory. I usually distill things down or remember one specific piece of a thing in my brain. A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens? There’s this one scene where Sydney Carton and Charles Darnay are standing in a street or walking down a street. I had to go look their names up. I cannot remember whether they were walking down the street or just standing in it. My feeling is that Sydney had just left Lucie’s house? Maybe Charles and Sydney had? Or maybe they were just talking about her? I believe they were outside a house. I cannot tell you what they talked about except that Lucie was mentioned. That scene however is how I remember the whole book. The picture of the two of them in front of a house talking about something. It’s sad and subtle and about a girl. I could have told you the basic plot. I would have had to not use names because obviously I didn’t remember them. That’s how my brain works. It strips out a lot of detail except usually a thing or two and hooks the rest of the impressions and memories onto those few things. I have a few other things for Tale of Two Cities. Mme Defarge knitting outside the shop (which now I can’t remember if it’s actually in the book or was an illustration I saw). The end of the story where I think again Sydney and the spy are talking before the guilliotine.

Usually with stories/novels though I can keep them straight enough. I have read a book and had it hit that feeling of “oh I’ve read this before” and either found an already read copy of the book in a box or found the other book that had certain similarities in plot or characterization that caused the deja vu.

Irritatingly and maddeningly, music just torments me.

Thick skin

Bear and I had a lovely dinner at this creole/cajun/texmex/I’mInNewEnglandAndDesperate restaurant. It’s actually the best of it’s kind that I’ve found up here. Creole/Cajun type of food means they use pepper in most of the dishes. Poblano, jalepeno, etc. They also use what Bear thinks is a nearly excessive amount of black pepper, although I think that actually isn’t related to the conversation that followed. Bear is very sensitive, but most of the dishes are just hot enough to satisfy me and not so hot that Bear can’t eat there.

We get in the car after a very satisfying meal and Bear says, “I’m gonna feel that later.”

He’s made enough comments over the years that I knew what he was talking about. “You know what’s funny, it never burns me when I poo. No matter how hot the food is.”


“No, ever since I moved in with you and you mentioned how it burns your ass after you eat I’ve tried to pay attention. I wonder if my body metabolizes capsaicin.”

“You can’t metabolize capsaicin.”

“Well then my ass isn’t very sensitive.”

“You must have very thick skin on your anus.”

At this point we dissolved into giggles. Because Bear and I are like that. I’m pretty sure this is how we’ve survived 10 years of a relationship. One day I’ll try to reconstruct the blowing the wind down from New England to Texas conversation. I never did save that chat and it was definitely more than 5 years ago though.

nytimes article about female desire

So I found a link to this post about female desire in NY Times Magazine. Sounded interesting. Went to go read. Thought, huh, weird bias on some of this stuff. Thought, sounds like a man wrote it. Went further along and kept thinking, sounds like a man or a woman who doesn’t particularly like her gender wrote it. There is interesting stuff contained within, but the bias is really hurting my reading of the article.

became mad as rabbits

The weekend kinda blew. I don’t know what’s going on, but right now it seems like everyone’s life is at a low. Relationships are on rocks, Bear is down, my brother is fighting with my mom. AJ was out of town for a lot of this and I realized how quick she’s become part of my life. I missed her y’all.

My mom is putting her work and her work relationships above her son. I get that he needs a job, but the job she has open is really really the wrong way to go. Then treating him like he’s a bad kid for saying no is just the last topping on the cake. There’s a difference between being spoiled and knowing to turn down a bad option. It really sucks that she’d try to confuse the issue. She’s been crazy the last few years with periodic moments of lucidity. My brother and I keep thinking in those moments that she’s fine. That she’s our mom again. Then something like this happens and it hurts. Getting random txts from your brother because he’s hurt and confused and angry really takes your day down.

My friend Lin wrote a journal entry about love the other day. What love meant to her. It made me think of all the things I do to show people I care and the things they do for me. I have to admit I’m not sure where those actions carry over from caring to love. I’ll do things for people that I genuinely care about, but maybe don’t love. Not the way I love Bear or Lin for example. Maybe you can love a person just because they are good people and you are happy to have them in your life. Maybe it’s not love the way you love your husband or best friend of 10+ years. Maybe that’s ok.

Here’s one thing I know though. Caring means that you don’t try to use the other person to their own detriment just to satisfy your own goals. Love means that you would act to your own detriment in order to help the other person. I think love means that you adjust your own life and goals and wants in order to make room for theirs. I think being loved means that while your wants and goals and life can be adjusted, your needs are tended and met.

Bear and I have had difficulties. Lin and I have had difficulties. I’m sure if AJ and I continue to be friends that I’ll come to love her deeply and we’ll have difficulties. My brother and I. My mother and I. We ARE a difficulty. But in every one of those relationships I’ve had them take time to listen to me and do things that maybe they weren’t so happy about, but they knew I needed. I’ve tried to do the same for them. It’s conversations about things that I wouldn’t normally be interested in, except for the fact that they are. It’s sitting with me when I’m crying even though they hate and loathe tears. It’s calling up my father because they had to TRY. It’s buying apples even though I’m not fond of them and most mornings washing them and grabbing paper towels so that they are ready to go on the way out the door. It’s biting my tongue even when I think they are making a mistake because sometimes people don’t want to hear it and just have to make their own mistakes and honestly who am I to say if it’s really a mistake or not. It’s suffering through the helplessness that comes when the other person is sad or in pain in order to give them the comfort of at least having someone there. It’s making an 8 ft long scarf that they never wear. It’s going without sleep to keep them company. It’s waking up at 5am to make sure they wake up for work or having them listen to you ramble on the phone because you have too many words in your head that don’t have context or sense. It’s a phone call to entertain whenever we are stuck and bored. It’s being truly ok with broken dates. It’s forgiving infinitely.

There’s a song that I kind of love that has this line in it: “we must reinvent love…”. This one line sometimes gets me so het up. I hope that the writer meant that his definition for love or the context that he was experiencing love needed redefinition. I can go on a rant about love having different meanings to different people or how can you reinvent an emotion even if you are speaking in the context of expression of that emotion or what possible relationship does love have with reinvention or a bunch of other thoughts that hit me when I hear this line. Right now though all I can think is that I’m pretty happy with my love, both given and received.