Sweet dreams are made of this

I just rejoined facebook after almost a year of abandoning it. I've written before about why I don't like it, but it kept coming up..."did you see so and so on facebook?"

So I rejoined. I still don't like it. I don't know what to say. It doesn't feel like my forum. I'm better here, blogging about whatever and only having people read it - who really want to read it.

and trust me - no one reads it (but you)

No one wants to hear how much I love my awesome car, what kind of music I like, the latest restaurant I went to, the last movie I saw... where I went on vacation, or photos of me (god forbid)... do they? and if they do, why?!! Most people don't like the music I like and vice versa. I'm passionate about my music I would love it if I could find those people who are equally passionate about it.

I was thinking that if my car were a person she'd be Michelle Rodriguez... then I changed my mind. Michelle is more like my Z4. She was beautiful and tough, didn't take any shit... kicked ass.

My Boxster is more sarinablackheart - tough, but softer, sweeter, and a bit more elevated style-wise. She's quietly superior to the Z4. She pampers herself and likes to cruise rather than drag race, she doesn't like competition but she'll race you for fun.

My therapist would have a field day with that one.. Ka-ching!

Truth is, I still think of myself as a bit of a misfit. It's how I see myself. I've always felt that way too... even as a child. I did not like playing with the other kids. I found it boring and predictable. I thought their conversation were stupid and a waste of time. Come to think of it, that's the same way I feel about small talk today.

As a child, I spent a lot of time by myself drawing princess dresses and castles, coloring in my Altair designs book with my new set of magic markers and making barbie doll clothes. I had a few close friends from time to time but I always felt different somehow - like a misfit from the island of misfit toys.

It's like telling (what you think is) a hysterical joke at a party to have everyone just stare blankly at you like they didn't get it. (That's never happened to me of course, but I imagine it could and therefore I would never ever do it).

Risk averse. I am a contradiction aren't I. An extroverted introvert. My therapist told me that I might be an "excitement junky"- what? really!? how did he come up with that one?

I love being home, the quiet. My favorite times are sitting in my bedroom and playing my guitar or working on some design. That or going to a beach resort and sitting on the beach all day with a good book and a Mojito. Don't even ask me if I want to go out partying at night because I will say hell no.

I did love to dance though. I used to go to all the clubs including Area, Danceteria, Limelight back in the 80s when Kenny Sharf and Keith Haring, Andy Warhol were hanging out in NYC. Way before Guiliani's gentrification, when the cabs wouldn't even go to the lower east side. I would spend hours and hours on the dance floor - a little water - and back to dancing. I could dance for 10 hours straight I loved it so much. But dancing was very solitary to me. I would dance with my girlfriends but I was alone in my head - loving the way the music pulsed all around me.

I just found a book about Area
http://www.amazon.com/Area-1983-1987-Eric-Goode/dp/081097276X

One of my favorite songs to dance to was "Set it off"- Strafe. The DJ would play an extended back beat and it was so great.

http://youtu.be/dqteaZ64unA

I love my damn guitar though. The guy at the music store (I think his name is Mark) fixed up my Gibson. Cleaned it up, changed all the strings, fixed the neck. I play it all the time now, it has such a beautiful tone.

He has me on his radar to sell me a Martin (ie; expensive well regarded guitar). So, I gave him the task of finding a very specific one. I want a stained black Martin with a small body - that plays well and costs under 1K. I don't think he'll find the one I want because I'm not compromising on this one. If he can find that for me - maybe I will buy it for my next birthday.

I'm hoping to go to Italy this year for my birthday...haven't been there since 1989... yeesh!

omg! I just saw the clip of Annie Lennox at the Grammys and it was so awesome I cried. Incredible.

http://youtu.be/HZEChv1AaOk

Wind and Wuthering

just watched the original version of Wuthering Heights with Merle Oberon and Laurence Olivier.

It has always been my favorite movie and my husband decided to screen it this afternoon after a rally of business that we both were committed to checking off the list before we started our Friday night.

Wind and Wuthering - Genesis

I was in the middle of some valentines day banner for my website... trying to pull it together in a record amount of time sorta in the same way I'm trying to speed up my guitar picking. Hitting the chords, getting the notes keeping time.

Such a beautiful and innocent love. But the story really hit the crescendo when he walks back into her life after she thought he would never come back.

In reality we lose faith, forget how incredibly intense the connection is, seek security, deny. It's a game of chicken and no one wants to be the one holding on to the love after the other one has moved on. It's painful ... it's heartbreak.

Cathy ultimately didn't trust the depth of Heathcliff's love. She didn't wait for him.

I cried.

I think because I want so much to believe that it's true - that kind of love... and that what keeps us apart is the life around us. Was Cathy supposed to stay in her drunk and abusive brother's Wuthering Heights... and wait?

Was Heathcliff supposed to leave town at that point and concede that the reason for his existence was gone forever or stick around to at least be near her in some sense? There was no winning.

On her deathbed Cathy admitted that she couldn't live her life with her husband knowing that Heathcliff was there. She couldn't shut off her feelings for him, no matter how hard she tried and so she died of a broken heart.

I do believe that if she had children, she would have allowed herself to live for their sakes.

Valentine's Day. Not a fan. I'm not a fan of the commercialism and false sense of obligation.

Love is bigger than a hallmark card and some flowers.

And you know when you are loved because you feel it...
even if the words aren't there.

http://sarinablackheart.businesscatalyst.com/index.html

"Love is the Warmest Color"

Okay - i forgot what I was just going to write... again.  It took me three tries to get to the freaking blog site, having gone through all of my devices... so frustrating.

The MacBook Air was the winner.

Did Steve Jobs ever write a book?! I have to go check, but how could he not have?! My husband thinks I'm an Apple/Steve Jobs fan-girl. He's right.

the following is a link to amazon page of all books about him.

http://www.amazon.com/s/?_encoding=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&field-keywords=steve%20jobs&linkCode=ur2&tag=quickonlineti-20&url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks

The sound of the iphone standard ring makes me nervous. Pavlovian reaction.

I want a puppy. I'm getting closer to getting one, but I'm not there yet. Jesus. :)

I'm not letting my two sons name any more animals. Not very creative at the naming... Cookie, Snowball... really. ;) We also had two hamsters... they didn't end well. Did I ever tell you the story? It's as good a time as any!

similar type of hamster, but not Rhino

So, we had this hamster named Rhino. He was a cute little guy. He came across to me as affectionate I guess because of his fluffiness. I think I loved him most. Anyway, my parents were coming for Easter. They always bring the chocolate Bunnies for the kids - a holdover tradition from my childhood that I never could adopt.

The kids opened up the Bunnies and went and played some games in the other room,

The next day we noticed that Rhino was missing - so we started looking for him. My oldest son found him in the closet completely covered in chocolate. I tried as best I could to clean him up and help him but he was literally drowned in it. He had gotten out of his cage and found the instrument of his demise...the bunnies. Death by chocolate. The little guy died in my hands. I think he saw how hard I was working to make him comfortable... at least, but I was heartbroken.

Note to self: hamsters and chocolate do not mix.

On to a lighter topic...

A fan of black and whites, the absolutes, the answers.
Maybe following religion is the antithesis of this way of thinking because it's all possibility and no verifiable truth.

The worship of god. What are we all saying when we say our prayers in a church, a mosque or a temple?

"Hallelujah, Bovay, Alabama"

I have been having trouble sleeping lately.

Jon Stewart is on, gotta go.

title are a few lyrics in the song "Nara"
by alt-j

http://youtu.be/MtmrYisoxXA

1965

Why is it that I can remember every lyric to a song I last heard 30 years ago, yet I can't remember the plot to a movie I saw last night?

When I was a child back in the seventies I had this portable record player. It was so cool (back then) - a little hard plastic suitcase with a pebbly texture, white plastic handle and a silver metal closure... When you opened it up you would unfurl the white cord (stuck in a narrow compartment in the back) and plug it right in. It would play 45s. The plastic arm would be manually placed on the outside edge of the record and make its way to the center as it played. And when the song was over the needle would make that scratchy bumping sound until it reached the "end", then automatically lift up and move back to its resting place.

"I feel the Earth move under my feet I feel the sky tu-umblin" down....I feel my heart start to tremblin" whenever you're aroouuuuund...oooh baby, when I see your face, never in the month of May, ohhhhh darlin' I can't stand it - when you look at me thata way-ayyy..."

I saw "St. Vincent" last night with Bill Murray. Loved it. I cried so much at the end it was embarrassing. I won't give it away, but it was worth seeing and the fact I can remember today (not even 24 hours later) is my testament to how good it was.

I can remember what I wore on a date when I was 17 but I can't remember the story line to a book I read last month. I know I liked it or not but I couldn't tell you what it was about.

"Jo-Jo was a man who thought he was a loner, but he knew it wouldn't last... Jo-Jo left his home in Tucson Arizona, for some California grass..."

I remember the green apple on the record, that yellow plastic 45 carrying case that stacked the records up on a central ring that also became the handle.

I had a pair of light pink denim bell bottoms - low-waist with three buttons - that I loved. They were hand-me-downs from my cousin (not sure which - Vita or Antoinette) who lived two doors down. Anything they wore was cool to me - they were my teenager cousins and I was happy to get their clothes. I had no idea I was underprivileged, it just seemed normal to me.

I think growing up and not having money made me creative. When I moved to a new town when I was 13 I understood where I stood on the social scale. It wasn't that I was the poorest - not at all, but I recognized the disparity.

I loved style and fashion and always had a subscription to Vogue. If you had the money you could go to the department stores and stock up on the latest fashions - its done for you - this was not the case with me, so I created my own.

I remember taking old skirts, taking them apart and remaking them into a new trendier version. It was very "pretty in pink" - I think I turned heads - maybe not all in a good way - but I certainly got noticed from time to time with my unusual outfits.

I went through a period of horrific taste in college. Maybe it was just what was available at the time, but when I think back I cringe. The 80s were not good for fashion. The hair was worse. Yes, I went through a moment when I used the hair gel to excess - but soon I shaved it off - my very own rebellion against big hair.

I did keep a few long strands in the front the hang over my eyes, so as not to be completely exposed - but my entire head was right down to the peach fuzz. It was a bold statement that I couldn't imagine right now - having had a mess of long hair for most of the last 15 years.

sort of the hairstyle i had in the mid 80s

It freaks me out to pull my hair back in a pony tail and it makes me think about the women in the Middle East who don't want to remove their hijab. They are so used to the privacy, the security of their being hidden - that has less to do with women's rights or freedom - and more to do with (perhaps) unwanted exposure. What do I know?

Sometimes I think I'm just going to go and shave my head again. Take it all off - make a statement to rebel against what exactly? My faded youth (this time) - my vanity?

Unless you're Audrey Hepburn, no matter what you do - aging sucks and there is nothing you can do about it, you can look freaky with too much botox and some face lifts OR you can just look old.

I loved Bill Murray's character and how it was so despicable on the outside - you're left with wondering how someone could possibly be that way - and compare him with despicable people you meet in your life see on TV... or read about in the newspapers. In the end, he's not what he seems to be, or better - he's not all what he is on the surface.

I've known people like this - sort of. People who will say the meanest things - and on the other hand would give you incredible love. I'm a forgiver for sure. I guess I always hope that I am always forgiven as well.

vernal equinox

I'm always trying to fix things visually. I like sharp contrast, clean lines and  a surprise of saturated, vibrant color. I'm leaning towards hard black metal or pewter, black stained and varnished woods, mosaic tiles, carrara marble, freshly washed cotton, cashmere wool and silk. Shiny silver rings, bangles, chains.

The wind is blowing loud and strong out my window. It's winter for sure - no denying it. Busy time - NYC tomorrow... NYNOW at Javits. Looking forward to seeing what's out there hoping for something different. Dinner with friends might be nice.

My guitar lessons are going well. My teacher is very patient. I think you just have to be a really nice person to want to teach people. It must get very frustrating. But he just smiles and just because I want him to feel a sense of progress, I've been practicing nightly. The chords for Angus & Julia Stone's Yellow Brick Road. I am learning how to pick strings instead of only strumming chords. We're also focusing on rhythm. It's a tough song to sing and play at the same time especially since I haven't gotten the rhythm down yet... but I have made progress this week.

I came up with a funny name for a song. I guess it would have to be country? At least that is how I hear it in my head. It's called "I've got a dog named Jesus and a God named Spot". I'm not a fan of country though. The title made me laugh though. It would be so cute to have a puppy named Jesus that you could hug and love, that has unending love for you and brightens you up inside. And you could never really get mad at Jesus.

Loved the half time show at the Superbowl. I'm not a Katy Perry fan, but her music works for a big production and I was entertained. Loved Missy Elliot - that some good funky dance music. I was rooting for the Seahawks... had a little party, lots of good food too.

Today I spent the day working on an excel spreadsheet. I know! sounds boring, right? But it's a nice contrast to the creative work... I like making the formulas work - its kind of fun. 

The other night I watched Forensic files right before I fell asleep and had the worst goriest dreams ever. I have to remember not to do that again - but I do like that show. I think I would've liked to be a forensic scientist.  

Thursday I'm going to see a girlfriend I haven't seen in 7 years. We're having lunch in Lambertville.

Do we start the countdown to spring now? I'll start...

#46daystillspringtime

I need a vacation. Have I mentioned that before... oh yeah - I have.