Sunday, January 24, 2010

Tambourine Blues

On the radio:

The Pearl Jam song "Just Breathe" is slow and beautiful and it was on the radio now. I listen to 101.9 FM WRXP sometimes even though it plays too much classic rock-n-roll for my liking. I also heard "And She Was" by the Talking Heads and danced to it in my bedroom making sure not to be loud on the hardwood floor.

I was able to set the alarm clock to wake me at 9:00 AM. You can program the alarm to wake you up to music on your iPod. I've decided to hold off on upgrading to a 10,000-song iPod. I bought mine nine years ago it was the original Nano and only holds 500 songs. Since then the technology has become better and you can buy an iPod with 10,000 songs for $250-what I paid for mine.

I wear my navy cotton skullcap today because I'm having a bad hair day. I wear that and the mocha lipstick and my tee-shirt and gray lounge pants. This was the going-to-do-laundry outfit. When I was done I slept for three hours in the afternoon.

Alas: I'm not a big thrift store fan. I washed a pair of navy Dockers and placed then in the donations bag. I don't like how they fit even though they're petite because there is too much fabric in the seat.

______________________________


Last night I listened to Matt Pinfield's radio show for four hours and he played cool music. I listened to the modern rock and wrote in the journal with my tee shirt and skull cap on wearing my black-rimmed eyeglasses and I wondered: what guy would understand me? A guy on e-Harmony once closed off his contact with me because we were incompatible. He was divorced with two kids and liked to play pool in his spare time and I attended and performed at poetry readings and was a little too counterculture for his taste.

So that is what I do: keep a journal and listen to modern rock and go about my life in a young at heart way. 5'0" tall and I could blow like a leaf in the wind I'm so petite. Thus I couldn't date someone who smothered me. That just isn't happening.

Sometimes I feel things in my bones. I wrote in the journal last night that my stomach was shaking like a tambourine. Another time I wrote that my stomach felt like an aquarium. What guy would want to romance a girl who lives her life left of the dial? It's not unusual for me to come up with such evocative images.

I once bought a teal shirt that on the website was called aquarium.

This is how I live my life: in living color. I don't want to just be here now. I want to be here passionately.

The Tiger ex just didn't get this.

Well: I don't have that kind of energy to order what I do around pleasing other people. I don't covet mainstream acceptance. It's a point of pride that I live my life left. Even though I've achieved success in the world that doesn't matter because it all comes down to this: living in my own apartment listening to modern rock on the radio on a Saturday night and writing in a journal.

With a few changed words to the Bob Dylan song I listened to last night:

Hey Ms. Tambourine Woman play a song for me in the jingle jangle morning.

D. once said we have a different way of seeing things. That most likely accounts for this: my way with language-the written word and the spoken word.

Oh: do you understand? Do you believe other people would understand?

As much as how far I've come my inner child is that young girl who feels she doesn't quite fit in. America is comprised of 95 percent Traditional women and I'm a Classic with a Trendy accent so that is most likely why I feel I go left when everyone else goes right.

You turn 45 soon and are grateful you no longer compare yourself to others like when you were a teen and envied the young girls who could afford both a leather jacket and a cloth coat in the winter. Your self-doubt was a thorn under your skin. You gradually drew away from everyone and retreated into your poetry and your music.

You could feel the music.

At an early age you boxed with your demons and left them down for the count.


That is all that matters now:

I live by the truth.

"Beauty is truth, truth beauty."

Keats

No comments: