Funeral march

Have you ever heard House of the Rising Sun played on an accordion that sounds like a pipe organ?
It's a funeral march. And it's playing through my house right now.
Dad bought a new amp.

OH. Wait. We're onto a polka.

Yesterday Joanna and I sat by the river and had wine and grapes and hummus. Everyday should be like that. Then I won at Mario Kart for the first time. It's a dangerous thought but a little bit of alcohol seems to make everyone a little better at everything. I'll stand by that for now.

Happy Easter

The devil makes me want it.

I thought summer was my favourite season. I was wrong.

Spring is so much better. Not only does it promise three months of heat, it brings life to the dead. It makes us shed our tightly knit skin and suddenly we find ourselves enjoying cool breezes and warm light directly against the exposed under-layer. It's a feeling I've forgotten for three whole months. Three whole months of blistering wind that catches between the cracks of the biggest scarf, wind that burns the fingers bright red and raw. Finally, I can enjoy walking and not worrying about slipping on the ice, if snow will melt through my shoes or if I forgot my hat somewhere in my car. I can eat, read, and nap outside and break out of the monotonous cocoon that is my house.

Hooray for planning a summer of concerts and adventures across the border.

Congrats to Lisa who finds spring has sprung a new and exciting future as a teacher.

Cheers to those of us who are graduating in a few weeks. I know better is coming, I just wish I was sure about when.

Thank goodness my play is over. Thank goodness all went well but damn it for making me more confused than before. I went into the audition process with something to prove to myself. I've never done a play. Not a real one with lines. Okay, that last statement contradicts the last four years of my education but you know what I mean Mack. Shouldn't a drama major be in at least one play? Anyways, mission complete, all is well but with that under my belt I have no excuse not to do it again, right? Huh.

I have two more papers and one more exam before April 22nd. Thats all. All I can think about is lolla and more oncerts, tattoos, adventures, picnics and planes. I want to stand in the rain, knee deep in the mud and hear music. It's like when you cry and laugh at the same time and you want it to last forever so you try to make that mental picture, because you know it might never happen exactly that way ever again.

God damn the sun. The devil makes me want it.
I've said it before, trouble is a friend.

And I love it.

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time there was a girl named Scary Poppins who loved the little children despite their firery hate for her. To add to her sadness, they even made up a little song that wished her disappearance forever.
She cared for two little boys and a baby girl. In the mornings she would wake up with them at 7:15, an ungodly hour for anyone to endure, and make them their favourite breakfast. Three different kinds of cereal, two different kinds of milk and two different kinds of toast cut two different ways.
Scary Poppins changed them when they were messy, let them watch television for hours, coloured whatever pictures they asked for and even let them paint with their fingers when mom had gone to bed. Sometimes she even went away when they asked to be left alone, which was often. And even stranger than that she even played hockey with them despite her dislike for slapshots directed at her face.
One day the youngest of the three left Scary a lovely surprise and pooped all up her back. Of course this was no fault of the baby but the little boys ran away screaming "Oh no! We don't want to smell the poop!" They would not get a bag for the dirty clothes. So Scary had to get covered in baby poo while she ran around with the poor dirty baby, trying to take off her clothes without covering the rest of the house in poo too.
Then the oldest little boy wanted to play video games. Scary said he had already played for an hour and she feared he would become a zombie. He replied, "If you say no I'll scream at you." To which a tired Scary Poppins said, "Oh yeah? Me too."The little boy slammed down his hockey stick and Scary placed it high upon a shelf along with the video game, and that was the end of that."
When the little boy's mother awoke from her sleep he told her that Scary was an evil witch who refused to give him the right kind of milk in the morning. his mother laughed and told him he needed to trust the kindness of Scary Poppins. Scary was surprised at his claims and thought that maybe she should have let him eat one of her tampons when he demanded to have it as a snack an hour before. But then, she'd be out of a job.

The end.

Cleaning House

Hello insomnia and tea and lovely quiet snow. Hello moon.
Greetings from the day that has been a beautiful blur of nothing imparticular.
Today is the day of Joanna Newsom.
I woke up around 10, listened to Joanna Newsom sing like a muppet baby, took an apple bath, cleaned the house while dancing in my pjs. I did the laundry, vaccumed the floor and thought, "No matter what else is a mess, my carpet is clean." And then I laughed at myself for being in the gutter.
You see, I felt a mess because the university emailed this morning to say they had declined my application for a bursary. They said I don't qualify for financial need. I told them I have about 200 dollars in the bank. I wanted to cry but I washed the floor. Instead of calling someone about it, I bleached the toilet. I couldn't change it. But I could make myself some curried veggies and rice for lunch. I could eat that all day, rehearse my lines for the play and listen to Joanna Newsom read my mind:

And I regret, I regret

How I said to you, "honey, just open your heart"
When I've got trouble even opening a honey jar
And that right there is where we are...

And I been 'fessing double fast
Addressing questions nobody asks
I'll get this joy off of my chest at last
And I will love you 'til the noise has long since passed

Beauty.
So, I almost forgot about school and I touched base with friends who loathe the snow, I took a nap, and dreamed about skating.

For maybe the first or second time in my life I think I'm going to do the logical thing in my life. I am going to go and work abroad to make money for teachers college. I am going to pay off my debt and not worry about being rejected for bursaries. Instead of working and studying at the same time I'm going to try and work and live a little. A little different life. The dream hasn't changed but the road will be longer. In the end though, what's meant to be will find a way and everyone I need, who need me, will be waiting.
I'll miss people. But the practical answer is starring me in the face. No one is worrying about leaving me behind. I have to worry about me a little and I have to stop worrying about people who don't worry about themselves.
Thank you University of Windsor for not worrying about me. You're right, I don't need your help. I have 200 dollars in the bank and I'm going to be just fine. For now, at least my carpet is clean.
;)

Finger she

Can I keep your fingers?
Would you trade them for my bottom lip?
Would you trade them for my left ear?
Would I own those loops and swirls,
your only defining stamp, secretly singing your name...
my name.
I'd slip them under the hurt,
Hide them under the dirt,
Under the skirt.
I'll slip them into the earth

Let me reclaim, what lets you hang on

Can't I plant your fingers?
I'll bury them in the garden
I'll slip them under the dirt
I'll plant them under the snap dragons and kiss them goodbye for good

Taught

http://www.youtube.com/user/amandapalmer?blend=2&ob=4#p/u/16/0W25uK-TETU

I still owe this girl a lot.
I hope she can forgive me for doubting her.
I could probably be comfortable if I had to walk through times square naked and it's a freedom I was taught, not born with.

And another for good measure,

http://www.youtube.com/user/amandapalmer?blend=2&ob=4#p/u/13/k73IQ9fXah8

I am so excited for this year to get started.

I'm going to part of a show, a deep show, a heavy show about kids with disabilities in an institution. Whether I'm acting, in production, large part or small I'm not sure yet. But I don't care. You can't buy the kind of community feeling that comes from production. I can't wait to get some of that back. It's been years. And it has meaning for young people. I am so fucking stoked about this show right now. It only took me five years to get to this point and finally want to be a part of something at school. Better late than never.

Dear 2010,
I don't have an official resolution but things seem to be slowly working in my favour, so I promise:
To wear pants as little as possible.
Keep a healthy amount of scandal at arm's length.
Be good to my sisters.
Learn one more song on my uke baby.
Become a professional pin up girl ;)
And talk to more strangers.

<3

WTF VIBRATOR COMMERCIAL!

My sister is getting married next fall. She's been engaged for a week. In a terrible effort to convince myself that this is not a sign of us growing up I have regressed ever so slightly. Isn't 21 and getting married stranger than 22 and not? 22 and not done school, 22 and not sure what career is right, 22 and planning the next tattoo rather than china pattern.
Abbbee is 18. She votes for tattoo. 2 vs. lots. That's the only convincing I need.

So let's be young. Well, young-er, (young-is)h and make lists of the things we love most in the world. Things we love because we don't have to think about houses and marriage and kids and mini vans and little league. Abbee is going to help me. Consider this my tribute to starting the new year off by reminding myeslf of what makes me the best version of myself.

She'll ask the questions or give me a topic and I'll just be honest.

First, general things we are thankful for:
Loose tea leaves, coffee at midnight, our puppy, antique medical instruments, girls in red lipstick, movies about superheros (mostly batman movies), waking up to snow, full moons, singing Meatloaf, sushi dinners.

We both actually just agreed together that we love magic. We were raised in a house that encouraged believing in things that no one else did. I don't know how to describe the kind of magic we're talking about. It's like...when you feel an emotion so strong you feel like it's the strongest extreme of that feeling you've ever had and it's a little surreal. That surreal feeling in the moment, like seeing something that makes you stop breathing for a second, like smelling something you remember from a dream. It's deja vu. The small and few times you think that the universe has a plan and god is at work and maybe humans are more than accidents floating around. It's like....seeing your favourite band in the front row and getting your mind blown.

Next year I want more time outside. I miss BC and the mountains and the trees as wide as houses. I want Abbee to be here for the summer. I want to have just as much fun in Chicago, and if possible, more.

If I could give anyone a little advice for a happier year it would be, take more bubble baths. Listen to more music before bed. Write. About anything. Eat more fruit and choclolate, together. Fall in love with yourself. Know that all inspiration is just stolen, art is a combination of other people's ideas and don't be afraid to take from everywhere and everything. See some live art (music, theatre). Travel, but don't spend money. Talk to strangers. Eat weird food.
Do whatever you want.

OMG THERE IS A COMMERCIAL FOR A VIBRATOR ON TV RIGHT NOW. wtf.

anyways

In short and in closing, I just want to once again point out how happy I am that I don't have to plan a wedding. The next major event I get to plan is a road trip to Toronto to see a girl about a tattoo. No invitations to design, no money to burn on a white circus tent, just tea and concerts and game boards and weird food.

Here comes the insomnia. Bring on the herbal tea and honey.

Far

So,

I know I'm a tough broad who doesn't need shit from nobody but I am all over the place.
I miss my best friend. He's gone, living it up on the other side of the world for 12 days and it's really making me more pathetic by the second. I'm ashamed and embarrassed to admit it.
It's just that at least 3 times a day for the past three days I have had to stop myself from picking up my cell and texting him about some current event, something from my own day or just something stupid funny that I would usually tell him. I've considered making a list of everything or storing all the internet links I want to share in some kind of file for the next week but it's slightly over the top.
I had another very close friend who lived in Australia for a year and that was very difficult. I think it's the idea of them being so far that if anything were to happen I don't know what I would do. It's a feeling of helplessness. And the absolutely stupid thing is that while they are away they are having a fantastic time and I am worrying about nothing. But, at the same time he's all alone and I knew my other friend had a network of friends she trusted and seemed like total sweethearts to take care of her. He adores strangers. I love that he loves talking to just about anyone but it also scares the shit out of me a little bit.
It's a selfish kind of fear too that makes me jealous of all the new friends they make. I hope this is pyschotically normal. Being jealous makes me feel like a crazy person. At the same time I want them to make the most out of life and take whatever opportunity possible, whether it includes me or not.

To keep myself busy the meantime I have to throw myself into work and learn how to make peanut butter filled cupcakes...