Archive for January, 2008

Notes on my Playlist

7
January 5, 2008
by Abby in ,

I walked down the aisle to These are the Days by Van Morrison. I wanted to walk down the aisle to That’s How Strong My Love is by Otis Redding and have the bridesmaids walk to the Van Morrison, but I was talked out of that by an important member of my groom’s family who told me that some people in the family might not be able to handle hearing a black man sing me down the aisle. This is where we come from and we’re ashamed that we gave in. Here’s the irony: It was so important to us that we walk down to the Otis Redding song, that Bryan actually remembers the wedding happening that way. He told me tonight that he has it embedded so deep in his brain that I walked down the aisle to that particular song, that he has actually told people that that was our wedding song. And yet we caved to the racism. Wow. We were very, very weak when we were 20. That’s just another reason people shouldn’t get married at that age. The primary reason being that you don’t really know what to register for and so you don’t really get a lot of good gifts that are useful for your lifetime and whatnot. Because you’re 20 and you can still eat at The Malt Shop without dire side effects like your pancreas bleeding, and you don’t understand the value of a really good set of knives that you didn’t register for, but a wise old family member bought you anyway, but you took them back and got the cash in order to have more money to spend at the Malt Shop. Because you’re 20. And you know best. *sigh* This post will probably be edited tomorrow.

Still Just a Rat in a Cage

2
January 5, 2008
by Abby in

I have that song Bullet with Butterfly Wings in my head and I’m choosing to believe that it’s because we have a new hamster and I’m singing that “rat in a cage” line over and over for his sake and not for any other reason that might be deeply buried. I’m putting it first on my playlist in hopes that hearing it over and over might shake it from my brain. Or my soul. Or wherever it’s coming from.

Anyhoo…

We had a good Christmas with lots of goodies and exclamations of, “This is the best Christmas EVER!” followed closely by, “Hey, did I get that really obscure thing that I mentioned I wanted one time and maybe didn’t write on my list or beg for every day for the last 3 months? No? YOU SUCK!” That part might be a teensy bit all in my head because these girls are very easy to please (or they bury their disappointment for the sake of good manners, who really knows?), but I can’t help but worry over whether we got them the things that they really, really wanted. I know we can’t get them everything, but I wanted to get them what they desperately had to have. Because, after all, that is the measure of a good parent. It is. I saw a commercial about it.

And now one of my secret destroyers wants breakfast. Adieu.

Oops, that damn subconscious keeps trying to get to the surface. Did I say secret destroyer? I meant to say precious little pumpkin face.

What the world needs now…is love, sweet love…it’s the only thing that there’s just too little of. The world is a vampire…sent to drain And that’s what happens when I try to get something nice in my brain. Or soul.

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