mydarlingcurse.com

it looks a bit like a war zone here in st. louis park. now that the storm has past and we’ve all had our insurance adjusters out, after all the bids and estimates, the four houses surrounding me have all started construction….today!

next door it’s a bunch of white guys who show up when they want, barely work and leave before 3, a door down a hispanic looking crew is ripping a roof off like a 10 year old boy getting a Wii on christmas morn. across the street the young college hotties have KQ cranked and were rocking out to Midnight Rider by the Allman Bros. before 8AM and now an Emo Phillips interview is blaring down my street making me jumpy. across and down two doors some old guys are pouring cement and smoking, they look like leather scarecrows, with tattoos.

i can’t tell the difference between the buzz saws and the cicadas. the garbage trucks lumber through squeaking their brakes and hissing playing their own music.

it’s warm, sunny and breezy. the buns is fresh, clean and well fed. i’m off for breakfast with the alaskan poet.

and even though i haven’t left the house yet, it’s been a great day.

The Importance of Music to Girls
by Lavinia Greenlaw

yes, the bitches did a podcast of this, but for whatever reason it’s not available yet. JCSG and i are doing the 12 hot, fresh episodes, we’re just not able to post them on time. what do you expect from a bookclub bitch huh? it’s the middle of summer and there is SO much going on….blah blah blah. one of these days JCSG will listen to me when i tell her we need to take July off. maybe next year.

so, for now you get my written review. trust me, it’ll be short. i didn’t even finish the book. it’s not that the book is bad, it’s not. it’s very well written, just not well written about anything significant. there is no sense of “musical” importance here because greenlaw keeps her readers and herself an arms length away. no thanks. if you aren’t pulling me out of the bag, throwing me in the toaster getting me all warm and yummy then slathering butter on me, forget it. greenlaw puts me in the back of the bread drawer waiting for me to butter myself. i’d rather get moldy and be fed to the ducks.

there are some wonderful, very flowery passages in the first sixty pages that i read. nothing of importance though. in a way, i’m very disappointed that i actually spent money on this book. i really wanted something special, something that i could relate to. greenlaw grew up in London in the 70’s and 80’s. now if that isn’t a fucking goldmine of musical importance, i don’t know what is! but it never penetrates her. it simply happens to her and she then describes what it was like bouncing around in the echoes. i would wait for hours, HOURS, sitting by my radio, finger cramping on the record button, for one song. because i loved it, because as a tween it said something more than what i could say for myself, it stirred my imagination and made me wish. the first few screams from “I Want You to Want Me” live at the Buddakan to this day give me goosebumps. greenlaw would describe the wallpaper.

a few things that really bothered me, and my apologies if i’ve mentioned this in the podcast. first of all, this book was billed as a memoir. now, i’m not of the school that memoir is fact. memoir is memory and that isn’t always reliable. but memoir is an account of someone’s life, of an event in someone’s life. and that should be true, the details surrounding the event, those can be soft and open to interpretation - since not everyone remembers the same event in the same way. but something has to happen and nothing happens to greenlaw. the music never happens. secondly, the reviews were great for this book and that just makes me mad. good writing doesn’t always mean good storytelling and vice versa. while greenlaw is a good writer, you need to be both. and if this shyte is getting published and lauded, well fuck! let’s all get up off our asses and write a novel, our chances look good.

in a way though, i’m really proud of myself for not finishing this book, for simply closing it and putting it down. i saved myself a lot of time and anger doing that and that makes me feel good. i don’t even want to mooch this book, i seriously want something for it. that’s how strongly i feel let down. even if it’s something stupid - an expired coupon maybe, or a can of RC Cola - having something else to replace the book would mean more to me than the book itself. so i could say, here is the can of RC that i got for a shitty shitty book, i like the can better.

i love VH1’s Rock of Love, loved it! loved the second season too, but now…bringing it to the bus? well that my darlings makes me so giddy that i might explode.

when i saw on JCSG’s site that Bret and Ambre broke up, i wasn’t shocked. i knew some little weasel in the creative department over at VH1 wasn’t going to leave Bret Michaels alone until every speck of gold dust was mined from his comeback.

but taking it on the bus - that’s just brilliant. and i’ll admit loudly and proudly that i’m bummed i can’t audition.

my daughter….
my daughter, my daughter, my daughter.

love dares you to care….isn’t that how the song goes?

my boo fell apart this morning. utterly and completely fell apart.
she spent, and this is no exaggeration, the Alaskan Poet is here to confirm it, she spent no less than an HOUR a full HOUR yelling and screaming and crying.

it.
was.
Horrible.

and i couldn’t help but flash forward ten years, her in her teens me in my late forties and i felt a little bad for her. no way am i going to be a hip late-forties kind of mom, no way! she’s screwed! but the yelling and screaming, that we’ll have down pat.

finally i got her packed in the car and at pre-school and on the way home after catching the last 10 seconds of Billy Idol, Queen’s Under Pressure came on and i almost wept. i hate it when she’s wound up like that and isn’t herself. i hate when my patience is at an end. i hate it when she doesn’t listen and cooperate and is punished.

i’m going to try to end the day right with Kung Fu Panda tonight, leave the men home to maintain while the gals repair themselves and each other.

unfortunately, i had to get the crowes tickets through ticketbastard. the good thing about their $9.88 “handling fee” is that i got two songs from iTunes. lame that i’m excited about that, but still…

so i’m shopping around iTunes and i find some Magnet stuff that i had not heard and some live stuff that makes me tingle.

not sure how i feel about the “Zippity Do Dah” rift in the middle of my darling “My Darling Curse”, but at this point i will forgive my darling norse cowboy anything.

so i’ve been feeling sad tonight, with the tale of my mom, etc.

so i popped in the ear buds and listened to Warpaint.

i haven’t had a chance to listen to this album in one sitting, but tonight i did.

there have been times in my life when listening to the crowes becomes something cosmic and spiritual and i just freeze and let the awe wash over me. tonight was one of those times.

while listening to Wounded Bird, it felt like Chris Robinson was reaching out to just me, telling me to let go, it would be ok. and its why i love him.

Now don’t look back
My wounded bird
There’s nothing for you here
Need no wing just set your mind to fly

if i ever meet him, i’m going to give him a hug and just say “thank you”.

here is another reason why JCSG is my BFF… she told me about The Black Crowes coming to the Minnesota State Fair. i’ve never, ever, EVER been to a show at the State Fair Grandstand. i’m not sure if i’ll dig it, but i heart the Crowes, as you know, and i’m thrilled, THRILLED at the possibility of going. now, we just have to get a babysitter and we are set.

yesterday i had to pick up boo from daycare with the buns. this scared the crap outta me because buns is two weeks old and a daycare full of kids is just pure pestilence. if i could have put him in a bubble, or leave him in the car i would have. needless to say, it wasn’t horrible. i kept him in his car seat and shoo-ed away all the grubby hands and faces that swarmed upon us, including boo who was a right mess.

i had grand plans yesterday afternoon and evening. i was going to take boo to target and then bathe both kids. i was going to have them tucked in and asleep by 8:30PM. and it all went to shyte. but on the way home from daycare, in a rare moment when i get to listen to my own music and not some disneysillysongs crap, Magnet popped on with Hold On and i started crying.

i love it when the perfect song comes on and makes your day even if it’s sad and uplifting.

also, in the rock-n-roll department - i had a dream last night that i had Chris Robinson’s phone number and we were cell phone pals. the only part of the conversation that i remember is him being stoned (what?! nooo…) and bitching about the upcoming election. i kept reminding myself to joke about the arranged marriage between boo and his little one, Ryder.

so i’m back in my 80’s pop mind and hearted this song and video…

for the last few days, boo has been learning X-mas songs. she rocks “jingle bells” and is learning “santa claus is coming to town”. my dad has a dancing santa thing that sings SCICTT, and she kept pushing the button to make him sing and dance. she did this about twenty times the last time we were over there. and while we are in the car, she always wants to sing songs.

today, on our way to daycare, i had the X-mas station on the radio and Bruce Springsteen’s version of SCICTT came on the radio. i told her it was the “santa song” and she got a big smile on her face and listened to me and the Boss singing, i really hammed it up too - especially with clarence’s ho-ho-ho’s. she’s funny about new versions of things that she knows. it’s a riot to see recognition come over her face, but in a different way. when the song ended she giggled and wanted me to sing it again. i told her when i came to pick her up later, we’d sing it again, since i’m sure it will be on the radio once or twice before X-mas.

then she said, “mommy, you’re so silly” and i totally agree.

i’m not a huge Boss fan, never have been. but hearing him today, and sharing it with boo, well, i have to tell ya…it was like a slingshot into the holiday season. for too long it’s been a downer, and this year, while there are many people missing, there isn’t a sense of impending doom. just excitement of sharing the season with her and hubbin and family. it’s been far too long since i’ve allowed myself to get into X-mas.

good to be back.