My next writing assignment is actually to write a love story, but it's special to me, so I'm working on it. In the meantime, I'll do number 11, which is to write about anything currently on my mind. There's a dilemma that's been on my mind for a while. I'll write about that.
It's about that stalker guy I wrote about a couple of blogs ago, George. See, he goes to the same water aerobics I go to in the summer, that's where I met him. Now I'm afraid I don't really want to go because I would feel so uncomfortable, even though I loved it the last three years I've gone. It's a real dilemma and it's sensitive because people will wonder why I'm not going, especially the instructor, who is also my friend and George's cousin. I even filled in for her when she couldn't be there a few times the last summer or two.
On one hand, I want to be brave and just go and if he says anything to me, I'll call him out. On the other hand, I don't really feel like dealing with it and I wonder why I should have to in the first place. I'm pretty pissed off at the whole situation. I have two weeks to decide if I'm going to be brave, yet uncomfortable, or if I'm going to protect myself and not face it.
* * *
Here it is, a couple of weeks later. I put this down when I puppy sat and I'm just now getting back to it. Swimming officially started yesterday and I had every intention of going, but it's just too cold still. I won't back down and I'm surprised at myself for even considering it. The water aerobics will now start a week from now and I will be there, with bells on. Have a good day. Remember the days when I called you my chickadees? Well, have a good day. ;)
Tuesday, June 02, 2015
Thursday, May 07, 2015
420 Festival
420 FESTIVAL
My next writing challenge is to write about anything I want. So, I'm going to describe the festival my brother and I went to a couple of weeks ago.
My brother and I went to a 420/music festival and it was freakin' awesome. We paid ten dollars each to get in, then got the best parking spot in the place, right by the entrance. I thought ten dollars was high, but I would find out soon that it was a bargain instead.
It had rained hard that morning and the road was muddy. I was wearing my baby doll shoes and they didn't stand a chance. The first things we saw were lots of food vendors, mostly barbeque, on either side, and on the right was an incredible bonfire pit, waiting to be lit. That sucker was huge and I could imagine what kind of party that was going to be after dark.
We wandered by the food stands and I was disappointed that there weren't any vedors with items to sell. I was hoping for lots of hippie stuff. We continued on our way and saw a lot of interesting things. See, I thought this was going to be a park but it wasn't. It was one guy and his wife's property. We (my brother, Thomas, his puppy, Oswald, and I) saw shoes hanging in the trees, old, dilapidated school buses and trailers, complete with graffiti and art. There were small tents pitched here and there where people were camping out.
We came to a widening in the road. We passed two more food stands, then saw the music tent to our left, and behind it, a field where people had parked their cars in a large circle and were playing frisbee inside the circle. There were more tents pitched all around. There were Peacocks all over the place. To our right was a structure that turned out to be the owner's home and art studio. It was a quonset hut sprayed with polyurethane foam, so it was bumpy. There was a winding staircase leading up to a deck and the front door.
Thomas got to talking to an old guy who was drinking a beer and it turned out that he was the owner and wanted to give us a tour of his studio. The guy really liked to talk and to show off his place and he was a great story teller. He had painted the floors of his studio, which was the whole downstairs of the house, and painted the other side of the outside. One wall was made of different colored beer bottles. He showed us a lot of his art. There was a forklift that served as an elevator that lead upstairs. I was dying to see the upstairs but did not get to.
When we were finished with our tour, we wandered down to the music tent. There was a great band playing. It was kind of bluegrass/country with very comical lyrics. The frontman was pretty funny. I was impressed that this was the five o'clock band. They really were good. Next up was a three piece band called The Punknics. There was a washtub bass, a tattoo-covered singer/guitar player, and a bad-ass girl on a snare drum and vocals. They were rock/punk/country and they were really good too.
After standing in the music tent for a couple of hours, my back began to hurt, so we decided to make our way back to the car. We stopped on the way out so that Thomas could order a Philly cheese sandwich from one of the vendors next to the music tent. I wasn't hungry but it sure looked good. Across the way, there was a fry bread stand and I vowed to get a fry bread next year.
I plan to make the festival a yearly tradition. In fact, next year, I plan to go early and camp out the whole weekend, really get my money's worth. I'll pitch a tent near the music tent and walk around all weekend, getting to know people. My sister's even talking about coming here from Arizona next year to check it out. There was a very nice vibe and I think that next year I could even perhaps have a magical weekend. We shall see.
My next writing challenge is to write about anything I want. So, I'm going to describe the festival my brother and I went to a couple of weeks ago.
My brother and I went to a 420/music festival and it was freakin' awesome. We paid ten dollars each to get in, then got the best parking spot in the place, right by the entrance. I thought ten dollars was high, but I would find out soon that it was a bargain instead.
It had rained hard that morning and the road was muddy. I was wearing my baby doll shoes and they didn't stand a chance. The first things we saw were lots of food vendors, mostly barbeque, on either side, and on the right was an incredible bonfire pit, waiting to be lit. That sucker was huge and I could imagine what kind of party that was going to be after dark.
We wandered by the food stands and I was disappointed that there weren't any vedors with items to sell. I was hoping for lots of hippie stuff. We continued on our way and saw a lot of interesting things. See, I thought this was going to be a park but it wasn't. It was one guy and his wife's property. We (my brother, Thomas, his puppy, Oswald, and I) saw shoes hanging in the trees, old, dilapidated school buses and trailers, complete with graffiti and art. There were small tents pitched here and there where people were camping out.
We came to a widening in the road. We passed two more food stands, then saw the music tent to our left, and behind it, a field where people had parked their cars in a large circle and were playing frisbee inside the circle. There were more tents pitched all around. There were Peacocks all over the place. To our right was a structure that turned out to be the owner's home and art studio. It was a quonset hut sprayed with polyurethane foam, so it was bumpy. There was a winding staircase leading up to a deck and the front door.
Thomas got to talking to an old guy who was drinking a beer and it turned out that he was the owner and wanted to give us a tour of his studio. The guy really liked to talk and to show off his place and he was a great story teller. He had painted the floors of his studio, which was the whole downstairs of the house, and painted the other side of the outside. One wall was made of different colored beer bottles. He showed us a lot of his art. There was a forklift that served as an elevator that lead upstairs. I was dying to see the upstairs but did not get to.
When we were finished with our tour, we wandered down to the music tent. There was a great band playing. It was kind of bluegrass/country with very comical lyrics. The frontman was pretty funny. I was impressed that this was the five o'clock band. They really were good. Next up was a three piece band called The Punknics. There was a washtub bass, a tattoo-covered singer/guitar player, and a bad-ass girl on a snare drum and vocals. They were rock/punk/country and they were really good too.
After standing in the music tent for a couple of hours, my back began to hurt, so we decided to make our way back to the car. We stopped on the way out so that Thomas could order a Philly cheese sandwich from one of the vendors next to the music tent. I wasn't hungry but it sure looked good. Across the way, there was a fry bread stand and I vowed to get a fry bread next year.
I plan to make the festival a yearly tradition. In fact, next year, I plan to go early and camp out the whole weekend, really get my money's worth. I'll pitch a tent near the music tent and walk around all weekend, getting to know people. My sister's even talking about coming here from Arizona next year to check it out. There was a very nice vibe and I think that next year I could even perhaps have a magical weekend. We shall see.
Monday, May 04, 2015
Ready to Call 911
Ready To Call 911
I've had a stalker for the last few months. He's been very subtly stalking me. I met him at my water aerobics class last summer. He's the cousin of the instructor who's also my friend. He's married and I've met his wife as well. I will call them George and Maryann. Not because I need to change their names, but because it's fun.
The guy wants to be friends and he's tried way too hard. He stopped by my house once when I was sitting on my patio, having a cigarette, and after we chatted a bit, he asked for my phone number. It seemed harmless enough at the time. He seemed like a nice guy and he had only stopped by a couple of times. Well, almost immediately I realized I'd made a mistake. He started calling me every day. There's almost nobody on this earth I want to talk to every day. I don't even talk to my best friend that often. So I told him to stop calling so often and he said ok. Then he called me the next day. Twice. I didn't answer his calls. In fact, I decided to ignore him till he got the hint and went away.
He didn't go away. His calls got fewer and farther between but then a couple of days ago, he called and left a message on my voicemail and he pushed me too far. He's turned his attention to my next-door-neighbor/best friend, whom I will call Jenny. His message said he had driven by her house and there's always a car parked there and he asked me if that was company or what. Then he asked if she had cut her hair. He's lives right behind us and can see what we do.
I freaked out. It's one thing to fuck with me, but it's another thing to fuck with my friends. I called him and left a message on his voicemail and it wasn't nice. I said that what Jenny has done with her hair and who that is parked at her house were none of his fucking business. I said that neither of us is interested in being his friend and if he bothered either of us again, I would call the cops.
I haven't heard from him since.
I've had a stalker for the last few months. He's been very subtly stalking me. I met him at my water aerobics class last summer. He's the cousin of the instructor who's also my friend. He's married and I've met his wife as well. I will call them George and Maryann. Not because I need to change their names, but because it's fun.
The guy wants to be friends and he's tried way too hard. He stopped by my house once when I was sitting on my patio, having a cigarette, and after we chatted a bit, he asked for my phone number. It seemed harmless enough at the time. He seemed like a nice guy and he had only stopped by a couple of times. Well, almost immediately I realized I'd made a mistake. He started calling me every day. There's almost nobody on this earth I want to talk to every day. I don't even talk to my best friend that often. So I told him to stop calling so often and he said ok. Then he called me the next day. Twice. I didn't answer his calls. In fact, I decided to ignore him till he got the hint and went away.
He didn't go away. His calls got fewer and farther between but then a couple of days ago, he called and left a message on my voicemail and he pushed me too far. He's turned his attention to my next-door-neighbor/best friend, whom I will call Jenny. His message said he had driven by her house and there's always a car parked there and he asked me if that was company or what. Then he asked if she had cut her hair. He's lives right behind us and can see what we do.
I freaked out. It's one thing to fuck with me, but it's another thing to fuck with my friends. I called him and left a message on his voicemail and it wasn't nice. I said that what Jenny has done with her hair and who that is parked at her house were none of his fucking business. I said that neither of us is interested in being his friend and if he bothered either of us again, I would call the cops.
I haven't heard from him since.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
My Special Someone
My next writing challenge assignment is to write about my feelings for someone. So, I decided to write about my current love.
Smitty. Yes, my cat. We love each other to the point of ridiculous. I haven't felt such pure love from any being in my life except from Daisy, my beautiful Persian girl who died two years ago.
Smitty came to me in the same manner that my two older cats did. Out of nowhere. I was sitting out on my patio, in the dark, when I heard a mewing sound coming out of the blackness. Naturally, I stopped what I was doing and followed the sound. It was starting to get light when I saw a kitten run behind my neighbor's trash can. When I tried to get it to come out, it ran next door, to another neighbor's house, and onto their porch. I could see it well now. I guessed it to be about twelve weeks old, with light, Siamese markings. Once more, I tried to catch it, but it got away from me and I lost sight of it.
As I started to walk back home, the neighbor came out. I told him I was trying to catch a kitten, and asked him if he could try to catch it if he saw it. He said that he would. That evening, the neighbor brought the kitten to my door.
He was a male, pretty calm, but a little scared too. He was beautiful, with his Siamese markings and big blue eyes. He spent his first night under my bed, waking me up every so often with loud mews. By the second night, he was sleeping quietly with me. I went to our park office to ask if anyone had called, looking for a lost Siamese kitten, and she told me no, and that I could keep him if I wanted him. I went home and named him. It didn't take long to think of Smitten Kitten, shortened to Smitty. I was in love.
Smitty is now eleven months old, and definitely a Mamma's boy. He's still growing, but he's bigger than seven year old Susie already. He's very friendly and loves most people. He's twenty-five percent brat, and seventy-five percent sweetheart. He gets real wild at times, but the rest of the time he's a little love.
A few weeks ago, I was lying in bed, on my side, when Smitty jumped up on the bed and laid next to me in the spoon position. I wrapped my arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around my arms, and we laid perfectly still for forty-five minutes. I had my eyes closed and I was so absorbed in the love passing between us that I didn't think of anything else the entire time. Not even a cigarette. We didn't move a muscle. I felt pure, unconditional love.
I've lost count of all of the special moments we've had together. He's smart, funny, and adorable. Everyone who meets him wants to take him home. One time, when I was in the beginning of a severe depression, I laid down, and Smitty came to me and loved me up. I felt better immediately. No medication has ever done that.
He's my little angel baby. He's my handsome young man, my sweet prince. I love Smitty as much as I've ever loved anyone. He has my heart.
Smitty. Yes, my cat. We love each other to the point of ridiculous. I haven't felt such pure love from any being in my life except from Daisy, my beautiful Persian girl who died two years ago.
Smitty came to me in the same manner that my two older cats did. Out of nowhere. I was sitting out on my patio, in the dark, when I heard a mewing sound coming out of the blackness. Naturally, I stopped what I was doing and followed the sound. It was starting to get light when I saw a kitten run behind my neighbor's trash can. When I tried to get it to come out, it ran next door, to another neighbor's house, and onto their porch. I could see it well now. I guessed it to be about twelve weeks old, with light, Siamese markings. Once more, I tried to catch it, but it got away from me and I lost sight of it.
As I started to walk back home, the neighbor came out. I told him I was trying to catch a kitten, and asked him if he could try to catch it if he saw it. He said that he would. That evening, the neighbor brought the kitten to my door.
He was a male, pretty calm, but a little scared too. He was beautiful, with his Siamese markings and big blue eyes. He spent his first night under my bed, waking me up every so often with loud mews. By the second night, he was sleeping quietly with me. I went to our park office to ask if anyone had called, looking for a lost Siamese kitten, and she told me no, and that I could keep him if I wanted him. I went home and named him. It didn't take long to think of Smitten Kitten, shortened to Smitty. I was in love.
Smitty is now eleven months old, and definitely a Mamma's boy. He's still growing, but he's bigger than seven year old Susie already. He's very friendly and loves most people. He's twenty-five percent brat, and seventy-five percent sweetheart. He gets real wild at times, but the rest of the time he's a little love.
A few weeks ago, I was lying in bed, on my side, when Smitty jumped up on the bed and laid next to me in the spoon position. I wrapped my arms around him, and he wrapped his arms around my arms, and we laid perfectly still for forty-five minutes. I had my eyes closed and I was so absorbed in the love passing between us that I didn't think of anything else the entire time. Not even a cigarette. We didn't move a muscle. I felt pure, unconditional love.
I've lost count of all of the special moments we've had together. He's smart, funny, and adorable. Everyone who meets him wants to take him home. One time, when I was in the beginning of a severe depression, I laid down, and Smitty came to me and loved me up. I felt better immediately. No medication has ever done that.
He's my little angel baby. He's my handsome young man, my sweet prince. I love Smitty as much as I've ever loved anyone. He has my heart.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Lust Letter
My next writing assignment is write a short poem, and since I haven't been inspired to write any poetry lately, I'm posting an old one.
big
sloppy
stinky
brilliant
sweet lover
that my mouth could be bigger
to take a bigger bite of you
I like your aftertaste
walk down this road
and bring it back
I want to give you me
clean and soft
I want to see
the transformation
in your face
I love your face
and I like your tattoos
you are to me
life itself
bumbling and perfect
and unafraid of death
don’t be afraid of me
I’ll only hurt you well
come let me bathe you
and feed you
and fuck you
and make you strong
then I will
send you back down your road
Saturday, April 18, 2015
Dear Ewan
My next writing challenge is to write a letter to anyone. So, I wrote a short and sweet letter to my Ewan McGregor.
Dear Ewan,
I love you. If there were such a thing as the perfect man, you'd be it. You're a great actor, husband, father, and activist for good causes. You're an adventurer. You're so beautiful that I've actually cried while watching you act. You were a wild boy when you were younger, smoking and drinking and having a good time, but you gave that all up to become a family man. You're such a stand-up guy and I love you for that. You're funny and you cuss like a drunk sailor. Is there anything not to love about you?
Yes, Ewan McGregor, I love you.
All My Heart and Soul,
Kelli
Dear Ewan,
I love you. If there were such a thing as the perfect man, you'd be it. You're a great actor, husband, father, and activist for good causes. You're an adventurer. You're so beautiful that I've actually cried while watching you act. You were a wild boy when you were younger, smoking and drinking and having a good time, but you gave that all up to become a family man. You're such a stand-up guy and I love you for that. You're funny and you cuss like a drunk sailor. Is there anything not to love about you?
Yes, Ewan McGregor, I love you.
All My Heart and Soul,
Kelli
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Christina Perri Review
Ironically, the next writing challenge assignment I'm doing is a review. Having saved the best for last, my friend and fellow writing challenge partner, Toni, chose Christina Perri from three choices and I'm glad she did.
CHRISTINA PERRI
I listened to pop radio for two years and only came away with only two favorites - Ed Sheeran and Christina Perri.
Christina Perri is my newest favorite music artist. She writes her own songs and she uses cords that give her music that atmospheric, haunting quality that I love. Her sound is unique. Her voice is beautiful, yet has a little bit of that edge I'm so crazy about. The girl's never written a bad song that I've ever heard. She moved to L.A. from Philadelphia and struggled to pay rent while also trying to get her songs heard. Her song, Jar of Hearts, was played on So You Think You Can Dance and received a lot of attention and she rose from obscurity to fame in a short amount of time.
Her current hit on pop radio is Jar of Hearts. It's a good song, but not my favorite, which is Tragedy. Before I knew the name of it, I called it the la la song because it's got la las. It's so very Christina Perri. It's reminiscent of something perhaps heard in the late 60s in it's style.
NEWS FLASH:
I just heard one of her songs on Pandora and found it to be relatively lame. However, I have to say that her worst songs are still head and shoulders above all of the other watered-down songs heard on poop radio.
I find Christina Perri to be an extraordinary, gifted, and special talent. Really though, as if that's not enough, she's also drop-dead gorgeous. Though charismatic in her videos, she seems a little shy when performing live. She likes to keep those beautiful eyes almost closed when she sings. I've watched tons of her videos and I never tire of watching her. I've included two videos, so that you can see her live and in one of her production videos.
I think she's extremely endearing. What do you think?
CHRISTINA PERRI
I listened to pop radio for two years and only came away with only two favorites - Ed Sheeran and Christina Perri.
Christina Perri is my newest favorite music artist. She writes her own songs and she uses cords that give her music that atmospheric, haunting quality that I love. Her sound is unique. Her voice is beautiful, yet has a little bit of that edge I'm so crazy about. The girl's never written a bad song that I've ever heard. She moved to L.A. from Philadelphia and struggled to pay rent while also trying to get her songs heard. Her song, Jar of Hearts, was played on So You Think You Can Dance and received a lot of attention and she rose from obscurity to fame in a short amount of time.
Her current hit on pop radio is Jar of Hearts. It's a good song, but not my favorite, which is Tragedy. Before I knew the name of it, I called it the la la song because it's got la las. It's so very Christina Perri. It's reminiscent of something perhaps heard in the late 60s in it's style.
NEWS FLASH:
I just heard one of her songs on Pandora and found it to be relatively lame. However, I have to say that her worst songs are still head and shoulders above all of the other watered-down songs heard on poop radio.
I find Christina Perri to be an extraordinary, gifted, and special talent. Really though, as if that's not enough, she's also drop-dead gorgeous. Though charismatic in her videos, she seems a little shy when performing live. She likes to keep those beautiful eyes almost closed when she sings. I've watched tons of her videos and I never tire of watching her. I've included two videos, so that you can see her live and in one of her production videos.
I think she's extremely endearing. What do you think?
Sunday, April 12, 2015
Another Rant
ANOTHER RANT
Censorship. It's often absurd and usually unnecessary, in my opinion. What are swear words, really? They're just words. We'll always find another word to express what we need to say, so why is that word ok and the other, swear word, is not? Who decided that one word was ok and one was not, anyway? I will admit, it gets a little better all the time. Twenty years ago, you could not say a lot of the things you can say now. It tickles me, though, that the uptight people who get their panties in a bind over words, with all the horrible problems this world needs help with, spend their energy on something so trite. Oh well, I guess. It takes all kinds, right?
Censorship. It's often absurd and usually unnecessary, in my opinion. What are swear words, really? They're just words. We'll always find another word to express what we need to say, so why is that word ok and the other, swear word, is not? Who decided that one word was ok and one was not, anyway? I will admit, it gets a little better all the time. Twenty years ago, you could not say a lot of the things you can say now. It tickles me, though, that the uptight people who get their panties in a bind over words, with all the horrible problems this world needs help with, spend their energy on something so trite. Oh well, I guess. It takes all kinds, right?
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Rant About Boobs
Rant About Boobs
The hardest part of this assignment was deciding which rant to choose. I had a long list going, then yesterday I found myself ranting to The Geez about a subject that has long been sore with me. Man boobs.
I have nothing against any boobs, actually. I think they should be allowed to fly free anywhere, at any time. For men and women. I personally like to keep mine under wraps almost 24/7 because they are getting up there in age and they're falling down and I sweat under them without a bra. When they were young, I let them be as free as I could without getting arrested. I didn't wear a bra unless I was at work.
What irks me to the core is how a man, with boobs just as big as mine, is allowed to let them fly, free as a bird, but I am not. How is that right? I have an ample breast size, but I've seen guys just as ample, walking around shirtless.
I have a neighbor, I'll call him George, (who is also sort of stalking me, but that's a whole other story, which I'll save for another time) and I swear this guy doesn't believe in wearing a shirt. It has been 35° outside and I've been sitting out on my patio, wearing my warm coat, and this guy comes driving up to talk to me, not wearing a shirt. I can see his house from where I sit, and I see him outside, doing outside things, always without his shirt. He's quite fat and I kid you not, his boobs are every bit as big as mine.
It's downright sexist. Granted, women's breasts are probably more alluring than old George's, but not all women's are and why aren't they allowed to let them air out every once in a while? It's not fair. That's what I think. What do you think?
The hardest part of this assignment was deciding which rant to choose. I had a long list going, then yesterday I found myself ranting to The Geez about a subject that has long been sore with me. Man boobs.
I have nothing against any boobs, actually. I think they should be allowed to fly free anywhere, at any time. For men and women. I personally like to keep mine under wraps almost 24/7 because they are getting up there in age and they're falling down and I sweat under them without a bra. When they were young, I let them be as free as I could without getting arrested. I didn't wear a bra unless I was at work.
What irks me to the core is how a man, with boobs just as big as mine, is allowed to let them fly, free as a bird, but I am not. How is that right? I have an ample breast size, but I've seen guys just as ample, walking around shirtless.
I have a neighbor, I'll call him George, (who is also sort of stalking me, but that's a whole other story, which I'll save for another time) and I swear this guy doesn't believe in wearing a shirt. It has been 35° outside and I've been sitting out on my patio, wearing my warm coat, and this guy comes driving up to talk to me, not wearing a shirt. I can see his house from where I sit, and I see him outside, doing outside things, always without his shirt. He's quite fat and I kid you not, his boobs are every bit as big as mine.
It's downright sexist. Granted, women's breasts are probably more alluring than old George's, but not all women's are and why aren't they allowed to let them air out every once in a while? It's not fair. That's what I think. What do you think?
Tuesday, April 07, 2015
My Roller Coaster Life ~ Part Two
My Roller Coaster Life (part two)
After a short stay at my dad's in Kansas, I moved to Tulsa again, this time on my own. I slept on my mom's couch until I had a job and an apartment close to where I worked. I only lived in Tulsa for four years, but those four years were so full of memories that I could literally write a book on that subject alone. But this is supposed to be a short autobiography, so I will try to keep it that way.
I always look back at my times in Tulsa as my good old days. I made friends, went out often, and heard loads of music. I had more than my fair share of boyfriends. I kept my head above water financially, and just generally had a good time.
Then I met Spike. He was the second love of my life. He was young, only seventeen when we got together. I was twenty-five. I always looked young for my age and Spike looked older, so our age difference wasn't noticeable to most people. He was tall at 6'-'7". When I met him, he was a skinny, gawky kid with bad skin and bad hair. By the time I left him, three years later, he had filled out, grown his hair out a little, and really transformed into a cute guy. He had wonderful blue eyes. When he came to work at Louie Ds, where I worked, we were practically enemies. I thought he was immature and a pain in the ass. Then one day, out of the blue, I watched him hand a plate to a customer with those beautiful long hands of his, and I fell in love. I thought it must be a joke. I couldn't possibly take those feelings seriously, but, the longer I was around him, the more I fell in love. The night we finally got together, I couldn't stop giggling at the absurdity of the whole situation. I was, however, stone cold in love for the next three years and for years afterwards. However, there was a problem that was big enough to make me leave. Spike was extremely jealous. Lord help me if I went without a bra, or was fifteen minute late coming home from work. It never got better, only got worse, until I couldn't take it anymore. I wasn't happy with my job either. Things had just slowly fallen apart and once again, I called my dad, and he came and got me.
This time I spent two years in the small town of Pittsburg, Kansas. I worked part-time in my dad's flea market and saved money to move back to Arizona. I had a small circle of friends and went out a couple of times a week. Nothing really extraordinary happened, and when I turned thirty, I moved back home to Arizona.
I loved my little home in Arizona where I lived for the next three years. It was a park model travel trailer, just the right size for me, and I had it parked by the river in a really peaceful park. It was a relatively uneventful time except for the crazy boyfriend I had for a year. I kicked him out on a weekly basis, but he'd wait until I fell asleep, then crawl back in through the window. He'd be next to me in the morning and we would make up for the next week. It was a crazy year. I could write a whole story about that year alone.
After three years of happily living on my own, but sick of being broke, I decided to move back to Kansas again. I worked at my dad's flea market full-time and didn't go out at all. My best friends were a married couple who were in their mid eighties. She was my mentor, and he was a sweet man who always knew the right thing to say. I loved them dearly.
After working there for five years, I was extremely burned out. Both the customers and the dealers in the flea market were driving me crazy, so I saved enough money to live on for a year, and I quit.
The next year was very interesting. I fell in love with Ewan McGregor after watching Moulin Rouge, and I discovered the internet. I printed out enough Ewan pictures to wallpaper my whole bathroom. Then I found a chat room called PalTalk and I practically lived there. I met a woman from Denmark with whom I'm still friends to this day. I met tons of guys and was really juggling the boyfriends. Then I met a man from London, and everything changed.
He was different. He was soft spoken and sweet, and I fell in cyber-love. After talking online and by telephone for several months, he bought me a plane ticket to London, and off I went. He had a ten year-old daughter and I stayed with the two of them for three months. We went everywhere. He took me to every tourist attraction in London, we went to the seaside several times, and I got to see a lot of the countryside. I adored London. What I liked best was simply going for walks, taking it all in. One night, I went alone to a pub nearby and met a bunch of people, and I had a blast. I fell in love with fish and chips too. After having the real thing, nothing else will ever do again.
Unfortunately, there were bad times as well. I have memories of arguments and battles of wills. I was supposed to stay six months, but left after three. Looking back, I remember the good times most, and I'll cherish those always.
Not long after I returned home from London, my dad brought the mail in one day and handed me a letter. It was from my first love, Jimmy. I was in shock, and I didn't even open the letter for hours until I regained my composure. He said he was out of prison, where he'd been for the last thirteen years, that he finally had his life together, and wondered if I was interested in calling him. I called the next night. We were both very nervous, and it was a little awkward at first. So I said something funny and he laughed. It was the same laugh that I remembered from twenty-three years before, and I just knew our chemistry was still there. We spoke on the phone every day for a month before I flew to Arizona to see him. We got married a month later.
I've written a whole, long story about Jimmy and myself, and if I write it again here, this will become a long story instead of a short one. So I will just sum it up the best I can.
Our marriage was a roller coaster. Jimmy would leave, and I would have episodes of depression, often accompanied by drunken rages. We couldn't live with or without each other. I can't count the times my heart was broken, and I'm sure it was the same thing for Jimmy. But I also can't count the beautiful, heartfelt, intimate memories Jimmy and I made together. Then, right before Thanksgiving, seven years ago, Jimmy left me for the last time, and went back to Arizona. This time, he didn't come back. He wanted to, but he got sick. He went to the hospital and found out that he had MRSA. I tried to go to him, but the only bus ticket I could afford was a twelve day in advance ticket, but Jimmy only lived eight days. Part of me died with him, and I doubt that I'll ever be completely over him.
I've been here in Kansas ever since. We moved to Topeka three years ago, which was a big step up from Pittsburg. I call this my bored period. I've pretty much been bored ever since Jimmy died. Also, around that time, I was diagnosed with bipolar and clinical depression, and started taking medication. I also have a couple of physical limitations, so I applied for disability and, while I've been denied twice, I have a good lawyer this time, and I'm pretty confident that I will win my case this time. When I do, I'll be moving to Portland, Oregon, and starting a simple little life on my own with my cats.
So, that's the story of the first half of my life. I'm really psyched about the next chapter. I shall be letting you know in time...
After a short stay at my dad's in Kansas, I moved to Tulsa again, this time on my own. I slept on my mom's couch until I had a job and an apartment close to where I worked. I only lived in Tulsa for four years, but those four years were so full of memories that I could literally write a book on that subject alone. But this is supposed to be a short autobiography, so I will try to keep it that way.
I always look back at my times in Tulsa as my good old days. I made friends, went out often, and heard loads of music. I had more than my fair share of boyfriends. I kept my head above water financially, and just generally had a good time.
Then I met Spike. He was the second love of my life. He was young, only seventeen when we got together. I was twenty-five. I always looked young for my age and Spike looked older, so our age difference wasn't noticeable to most people. He was tall at 6'-'7". When I met him, he was a skinny, gawky kid with bad skin and bad hair. By the time I left him, three years later, he had filled out, grown his hair out a little, and really transformed into a cute guy. He had wonderful blue eyes. When he came to work at Louie Ds, where I worked, we were practically enemies. I thought he was immature and a pain in the ass. Then one day, out of the blue, I watched him hand a plate to a customer with those beautiful long hands of his, and I fell in love. I thought it must be a joke. I couldn't possibly take those feelings seriously, but, the longer I was around him, the more I fell in love. The night we finally got together, I couldn't stop giggling at the absurdity of the whole situation. I was, however, stone cold in love for the next three years and for years afterwards. However, there was a problem that was big enough to make me leave. Spike was extremely jealous. Lord help me if I went without a bra, or was fifteen minute late coming home from work. It never got better, only got worse, until I couldn't take it anymore. I wasn't happy with my job either. Things had just slowly fallen apart and once again, I called my dad, and he came and got me.
This time I spent two years in the small town of Pittsburg, Kansas. I worked part-time in my dad's flea market and saved money to move back to Arizona. I had a small circle of friends and went out a couple of times a week. Nothing really extraordinary happened, and when I turned thirty, I moved back home to Arizona.
I loved my little home in Arizona where I lived for the next three years. It was a park model travel trailer, just the right size for me, and I had it parked by the river in a really peaceful park. It was a relatively uneventful time except for the crazy boyfriend I had for a year. I kicked him out on a weekly basis, but he'd wait until I fell asleep, then crawl back in through the window. He'd be next to me in the morning and we would make up for the next week. It was a crazy year. I could write a whole story about that year alone.
After three years of happily living on my own, but sick of being broke, I decided to move back to Kansas again. I worked at my dad's flea market full-time and didn't go out at all. My best friends were a married couple who were in their mid eighties. She was my mentor, and he was a sweet man who always knew the right thing to say. I loved them dearly.
After working there for five years, I was extremely burned out. Both the customers and the dealers in the flea market were driving me crazy, so I saved enough money to live on for a year, and I quit.
The next year was very interesting. I fell in love with Ewan McGregor after watching Moulin Rouge, and I discovered the internet. I printed out enough Ewan pictures to wallpaper my whole bathroom. Then I found a chat room called PalTalk and I practically lived there. I met a woman from Denmark with whom I'm still friends to this day. I met tons of guys and was really juggling the boyfriends. Then I met a man from London, and everything changed.
He was different. He was soft spoken and sweet, and I fell in cyber-love. After talking online and by telephone for several months, he bought me a plane ticket to London, and off I went. He had a ten year-old daughter and I stayed with the two of them for three months. We went everywhere. He took me to every tourist attraction in London, we went to the seaside several times, and I got to see a lot of the countryside. I adored London. What I liked best was simply going for walks, taking it all in. One night, I went alone to a pub nearby and met a bunch of people, and I had a blast. I fell in love with fish and chips too. After having the real thing, nothing else will ever do again.
Unfortunately, there were bad times as well. I have memories of arguments and battles of wills. I was supposed to stay six months, but left after three. Looking back, I remember the good times most, and I'll cherish those always.
Not long after I returned home from London, my dad brought the mail in one day and handed me a letter. It was from my first love, Jimmy. I was in shock, and I didn't even open the letter for hours until I regained my composure. He said he was out of prison, where he'd been for the last thirteen years, that he finally had his life together, and wondered if I was interested in calling him. I called the next night. We were both very nervous, and it was a little awkward at first. So I said something funny and he laughed. It was the same laugh that I remembered from twenty-three years before, and I just knew our chemistry was still there. We spoke on the phone every day for a month before I flew to Arizona to see him. We got married a month later.
I've written a whole, long story about Jimmy and myself, and if I write it again here, this will become a long story instead of a short one. So I will just sum it up the best I can.
Our marriage was a roller coaster. Jimmy would leave, and I would have episodes of depression, often accompanied by drunken rages. We couldn't live with or without each other. I can't count the times my heart was broken, and I'm sure it was the same thing for Jimmy. But I also can't count the beautiful, heartfelt, intimate memories Jimmy and I made together. Then, right before Thanksgiving, seven years ago, Jimmy left me for the last time, and went back to Arizona. This time, he didn't come back. He wanted to, but he got sick. He went to the hospital and found out that he had MRSA. I tried to go to him, but the only bus ticket I could afford was a twelve day in advance ticket, but Jimmy only lived eight days. Part of me died with him, and I doubt that I'll ever be completely over him.
I've been here in Kansas ever since. We moved to Topeka three years ago, which was a big step up from Pittsburg. I call this my bored period. I've pretty much been bored ever since Jimmy died. Also, around that time, I was diagnosed with bipolar and clinical depression, and started taking medication. I also have a couple of physical limitations, so I applied for disability and, while I've been denied twice, I have a good lawyer this time, and I'm pretty confident that I will win my case this time. When I do, I'll be moving to Portland, Oregon, and starting a simple little life on my own with my cats.
So, that's the story of the first half of my life. I'm really psyched about the next chapter. I shall be letting you know in time...
Saturday, April 04, 2015
My Roller Coaster Life ~ Part One
My Roller Coaster Life (part one)
I was the first Kemper girl born in eighty years. That was fifty years ago. I call it my roller coaster life because of all the moving and starts and finishes I've experienced in my time on this planet. I've lived in Topeka, Kansas, all over Southern California, the Verde Valley in Arizona, Tulsa, Oklahoma, Seattle, Washington, and I've spent a lot of time in Portland, Oregon. I was born to a vagabond family and I've pretty much stayed one throughout my adult years.
The first ten years of my life were spent moving between Topeka and Southern California. We never stayed in either place more than a year and I was constantly changing schools, which was hard on a painfully shy kid. We never had much but we were a close family and the first ten years were pretty happy. I'd usually just have one close friend and I was kind of a loner and a bookworm.
At ten years old, we moved to the small town of Cottonwood, in the Verde Valley in Arizona for the first time and it was a turning point in my life. I fell madly in love with the place. At that time, the Verde Valley, Arizona was relatively undiscovered. It was so beautiful and wild. The whole valley was our playground. There was a river running through it and we spent a lot of time at different cool spots on the river. We climbed rocks and could ride a bike all the way through town without seeing a car. It was glorious. These days, all the places where we used to roam free, you now have to pay to get into and everything is tightly controlled. A lot of people from California have moved there and it's become a fast-paced, rapidly growing little city. I'm just glad I got to live there when I did.
We moved briefly back to Kansas after that first move to Arizona but then we moved back and actually stayed for a whole ten years. That's why I tell people I'm from Arizona. It's always felt like my true home.
Between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, I was was quite the wild child, sneaking out of my bedroom window to go party with the boys at night and my mom would send me to California to live with my dad when I got too incorrigible for her to handle. At age sixteen, I met and fell in love with Jimmy Murray and I settled down. At age seventeen, we moved up the mountain to a little town called Jerome and the people in that town would play a big part of shaping who I would become. It was formerly a ghost town that was reinhabited in the 50s or 60s by hippies and artists and it was a very mind-opening experience. Unfortunately, soon after I turned eighteen, Jimmy and I broke up.
When I turned nineteen, I was old enough to get into the bars and I began to dance. While the crowd was sitting out the first couple of sets, I would dance, with the whole floor to myself. Once the crowd got drunk enough to get up there, that's when I would mostly sit it out. It was too crowded for me. I never danced the same way twice. It was ever-changing, free-flow dancing. I was in my element.
At twenty-one, I left Arizona to move to Kansas with my new boyfriend, Leonard. We stayed with my dad and Leonard worked until he'd saved enough money for a car and a move to Tulsa. I didn't really get to know Tulsa that first time living there. We both worked multiple jobs for a year to save money to move to Seattle. Leonard was sometimes abusive to me and I left him once, after he gave me a black eye, taking the cat and everything I owned to my mom's for a couple of weeks. My mom's new husband had a little chat with Leonard and he never touched me again. We moved to Seattle after all.
I loved Seattle. I've lived in quite a few cities and Seattle was by far the coolest. We only lived there for a year but it was a year with plenty of ups and downs. The first six months were full of great memories but the second six months were hell.
First of all, Seattle is lovely. Secondly, there's so much to do! We both had decent jobs and really had our shit together. Leonard worked at the Space Needle and I had a job downtown, working in a little deli, which was walking distance from our tiny studio apartment. Life was good. We went out to hear music often. This was actually right before the big Seattle explosion and the music was free, with no cover charge. There was one street that had a dozen bars all in a row, all with live bands and we hopped from one to the other. To this day, I'm not really sure whom all I heard play. Could be I saw bands that later became famous.
This was also the time when I opened up to movies and became such a big fan of them. There were no less than a half dozen cool little theaters within walking distance from our apartment. Each one was uniquely full of character and cheap. We went as often as three or four times a week. There was a film festival once with preview openings. Many directors attended and spoke about their films. There were six hundred films played in a couple of weeks and we saw so many cool movies.
Then there were the beer places, with every kind of imported beer imaginable, the coffee houses, and my favorite, the juice bars, where even the the ice was made of fresh-squeezed orange juice, and bowls of shelled sunflower seeds were provided at no extra charge.
I made some good friends from my job and would go out with them occasionally. I was cuter than kittens in my fake leopard fur coat, my 50s cat style sunglasses, and hair in a Pebbles pony tail. Leonard and I kind of stuck out in our wild, colorful garb while Seattle was still a sea of black-haired, black-clothed, pale-skinned people. It was the end of a goth period and the beginning of grunge. I would wear my big, purple hippie skirt with my converse shoes and a flannel shirt before it was fashionable. It was a really good time.
Every other weekend, Leonard and I would drive to Portland to stay with friends and do drugs. We vowed to each other that we'd only do them every other weekend and never at home. Then came the day that Leonard brought them home. His excuse was that I was sick and he thought it would help. We got hooked. Days melted into days and everything slowly fell apart. My friends looked at me with worry on their faces and we never went anywhere except to cop drugs. Then came the day that we were apartment sitting for our landlord when Leonard suggested that we pawn some of his things for drug money. I said no fucking way! I was scared out of my drug-induced coma by visions of living behind dumpsters with our drug dealer friends. I called my dad and told him what was happening. He sent me a plane ticket, so my cat and I got the hell out of Dodge. Sadly, Leonard continued down that path but I never touched drugs again.
I was the first Kemper girl born in eighty years. That was fifty years ago. I call it my roller coaster life because of all the moving and starts and finishes I've experienced in my time on this planet. I've lived in Topeka, Kansas, all over Southern California, the Verde Valley in Arizona, Tulsa, Oklahoma, Seattle, Washington, and I've spent a lot of time in Portland, Oregon. I was born to a vagabond family and I've pretty much stayed one throughout my adult years.
The first ten years of my life were spent moving between Topeka and Southern California. We never stayed in either place more than a year and I was constantly changing schools, which was hard on a painfully shy kid. We never had much but we were a close family and the first ten years were pretty happy. I'd usually just have one close friend and I was kind of a loner and a bookworm.
At ten years old, we moved to the small town of Cottonwood, in the Verde Valley in Arizona for the first time and it was a turning point in my life. I fell madly in love with the place. At that time, the Verde Valley, Arizona was relatively undiscovered. It was so beautiful and wild. The whole valley was our playground. There was a river running through it and we spent a lot of time at different cool spots on the river. We climbed rocks and could ride a bike all the way through town without seeing a car. It was glorious. These days, all the places where we used to roam free, you now have to pay to get into and everything is tightly controlled. A lot of people from California have moved there and it's become a fast-paced, rapidly growing little city. I'm just glad I got to live there when I did.
We moved briefly back to Kansas after that first move to Arizona but then we moved back and actually stayed for a whole ten years. That's why I tell people I'm from Arizona. It's always felt like my true home.
Between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, I was was quite the wild child, sneaking out of my bedroom window to go party with the boys at night and my mom would send me to California to live with my dad when I got too incorrigible for her to handle. At age sixteen, I met and fell in love with Jimmy Murray and I settled down. At age seventeen, we moved up the mountain to a little town called Jerome and the people in that town would play a big part of shaping who I would become. It was formerly a ghost town that was reinhabited in the 50s or 60s by hippies and artists and it was a very mind-opening experience. Unfortunately, soon after I turned eighteen, Jimmy and I broke up.
When I turned nineteen, I was old enough to get into the bars and I began to dance. While the crowd was sitting out the first couple of sets, I would dance, with the whole floor to myself. Once the crowd got drunk enough to get up there, that's when I would mostly sit it out. It was too crowded for me. I never danced the same way twice. It was ever-changing, free-flow dancing. I was in my element.
At twenty-one, I left Arizona to move to Kansas with my new boyfriend, Leonard. We stayed with my dad and Leonard worked until he'd saved enough money for a car and a move to Tulsa. I didn't really get to know Tulsa that first time living there. We both worked multiple jobs for a year to save money to move to Seattle. Leonard was sometimes abusive to me and I left him once, after he gave me a black eye, taking the cat and everything I owned to my mom's for a couple of weeks. My mom's new husband had a little chat with Leonard and he never touched me again. We moved to Seattle after all.
I loved Seattle. I've lived in quite a few cities and Seattle was by far the coolest. We only lived there for a year but it was a year with plenty of ups and downs. The first six months were full of great memories but the second six months were hell.
First of all, Seattle is lovely. Secondly, there's so much to do! We both had decent jobs and really had our shit together. Leonard worked at the Space Needle and I had a job downtown, working in a little deli, which was walking distance from our tiny studio apartment. Life was good. We went out to hear music often. This was actually right before the big Seattle explosion and the music was free, with no cover charge. There was one street that had a dozen bars all in a row, all with live bands and we hopped from one to the other. To this day, I'm not really sure whom all I heard play. Could be I saw bands that later became famous.
This was also the time when I opened up to movies and became such a big fan of them. There were no less than a half dozen cool little theaters within walking distance from our apartment. Each one was uniquely full of character and cheap. We went as often as three or four times a week. There was a film festival once with preview openings. Many directors attended and spoke about their films. There were six hundred films played in a couple of weeks and we saw so many cool movies.
Then there were the beer places, with every kind of imported beer imaginable, the coffee houses, and my favorite, the juice bars, where even the the ice was made of fresh-squeezed orange juice, and bowls of shelled sunflower seeds were provided at no extra charge.
I made some good friends from my job and would go out with them occasionally. I was cuter than kittens in my fake leopard fur coat, my 50s cat style sunglasses, and hair in a Pebbles pony tail. Leonard and I kind of stuck out in our wild, colorful garb while Seattle was still a sea of black-haired, black-clothed, pale-skinned people. It was the end of a goth period and the beginning of grunge. I would wear my big, purple hippie skirt with my converse shoes and a flannel shirt before it was fashionable. It was a really good time.
Every other weekend, Leonard and I would drive to Portland to stay with friends and do drugs. We vowed to each other that we'd only do them every other weekend and never at home. Then came the day that Leonard brought them home. His excuse was that I was sick and he thought it would help. We got hooked. Days melted into days and everything slowly fell apart. My friends looked at me with worry on their faces and we never went anywhere except to cop drugs. Then came the day that we were apartment sitting for our landlord when Leonard suggested that we pawn some of his things for drug money. I said no fucking way! I was scared out of my drug-induced coma by visions of living behind dumpsters with our drug dealer friends. I called my dad and told him what was happening. He sent me a plane ticket, so my cat and I got the hell out of Dodge. Sadly, Leonard continued down that path but I never touched drugs again.
Monday, March 16, 2015
Serena Ryder
SERENA RYDER
One of my top five favorite vocalists, Serena Ryder can take the cake. She has a wonderfully gravely, deep, bluesy, passionate and strong voice. Her voice is truly a gift and she could sing acappella and that would be alright with me. It would seem that nobody's heard of her, I mention her to people and they always say, "Who?" When really, it should be whom but I digress.
She's a songwriter as well, in fact, all five of my top favorite vocalists write their own songs and/or have written them for other, sometimes famous people. Her songwriting is unique and heartfelt.
Serena Ryder needs to be heard. She's phenomenal. I'm going to try to include a video but so far, my Blogger isn't letting me use HTML and I can't add a video. I'll keep trying. If I ever get it on here, enjoy, dang it!
p.s. You can always go to YouTube and check her out.
Another p.s. I got this video and I'm so happy because it's the song that made me notice her.
One of my top five favorite vocalists, Serena Ryder can take the cake. She has a wonderfully gravely, deep, bluesy, passionate and strong voice. Her voice is truly a gift and she could sing acappella and that would be alright with me. It would seem that nobody's heard of her, I mention her to people and they always say, "Who?" When really, it should be whom but I digress.
She's a songwriter as well, in fact, all five of my top favorite vocalists write their own songs and/or have written them for other, sometimes famous people. Her songwriting is unique and heartfelt.
Serena Ryder needs to be heard. She's phenomenal. I'm going to try to include a video but so far, my Blogger isn't letting me use HTML and I can't add a video. I'll keep trying. If I ever get it on here, enjoy, dang it!
p.s. You can always go to YouTube and check her out.
Another p.s. I got this video and I'm so happy because it's the song that made me notice her.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
The Civil Wars
THE CIVIL WARS
I simply adore The Civil Wars, especially the vocals of Joy Williams, who sings harmony and occasionally plays piano. She's so funny, their lyrics are all dark and depressing, yet she sings with a huge smile on her face, as if she's just so freakin' happy to be singing.
The Civil Wars are a duo, with John Paul White on guitar and vocals and Joy Williams accompanying him. They both write their songs and they are just so very gifted. They broke up not long ago and it broke my heart. I know they still had a lot of good music up their sleeves. However, I'm happy that they gave us as much music as they did, I treasure it.
Please watch the video for their song, Poison and Wine. It's excellent.
Love and peace,
Kelli
I simply adore The Civil Wars, especially the vocals of Joy Williams, who sings harmony and occasionally plays piano. She's so funny, their lyrics are all dark and depressing, yet she sings with a huge smile on her face, as if she's just so freakin' happy to be singing.
The Civil Wars are a duo, with John Paul White on guitar and vocals and Joy Williams accompanying him. They both write their songs and they are just so very gifted. They broke up not long ago and it broke my heart. I know they still had a lot of good music up their sleeves. However, I'm happy that they gave us as much music as they did, I treasure it.
Please watch the video for their song, Poison and Wine. It's excellent.
Love and peace,
Kelli
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Third Eye Blind (How's It Going To Be)
HOW'S IT GOING TO BE
This review is about Third Eye Blind but only about this one song because I'm not crazy about the rest of their stuff.
How's It Gonna Be is a great song that reminds me of an ex boyfriend. It's soulful and real and shows off Third Eye Blind's unique style. Watch the video and think of me with my crazy, brilliant, old boyfriend who looked like a cross between a Stray Cat and Franenstein.
This review is about Third Eye Blind but only about this one song because I'm not crazy about the rest of their stuff.
How's It Gonna Be is a great song that reminds me of an ex boyfriend. It's soulful and real and shows off Third Eye Blind's unique style. Watch the video and think of me with my crazy, brilliant, old boyfriend who looked like a cross between a Stray Cat and Franenstein.
Making Room for the Positive
Making Room for the Positive
I have made a vow to myself to only allow positive things and people into my life. In order to do this, I've been cleaning out all the negative things in my life. To start with, I stopped listening to watered down, lousy pop radio and switched to Pandora and increased the quality of my daily life ten fold. Secondly, I stopped drinking nasty tap water and started buying good water (I drink a lot of water). Then, last but not least, I dumped a bad friend out of my life. He was rude, insensitive and weird, and not in a good way. I've been hanging out with him for two years and he was annoying at the very least. I haven't made many friends since I moved to Topeka and I guess I was just desperate for a friend. But I decided I'd rather be alone than hang out with a guy who got on my damned nerves.
In order to allow only positive, I think I need to get rid of all the negative first. I'm making great progress and I'm rather proud of myself. I'm going a to have a major life change in the not-so-distant future. I'm going to win my disability and move to Portland, Oregon and start a simple life of my own.
Just wanted to share. Have a great day!
Love and peace,
Kelli
I have made a vow to myself to only allow positive things and people into my life. In order to do this, I've been cleaning out all the negative things in my life. To start with, I stopped listening to watered down, lousy pop radio and switched to Pandora and increased the quality of my daily life ten fold. Secondly, I stopped drinking nasty tap water and started buying good water (I drink a lot of water). Then, last but not least, I dumped a bad friend out of my life. He was rude, insensitive and weird, and not in a good way. I've been hanging out with him for two years and he was annoying at the very least. I haven't made many friends since I moved to Topeka and I guess I was just desperate for a friend. But I decided I'd rather be alone than hang out with a guy who got on my damned nerves.
In order to allow only positive, I think I need to get rid of all the negative first. I'm making great progress and I'm rather proud of myself. I'm going a to have a major life change in the not-so-distant future. I'm going to win my disability and move to Portland, Oregon and start a simple life of my own.
Just wanted to share. Have a great day!
Love and peace,
Kelli
Primus (2)
PRIMUS (2)
Since writing a short blog about Primus a while back, I've heard a lot more of them and would like to update that blog here.
I mean, wow! Primus is freakin' killer. Their drums and bass are incredible. They've quickly become one of my favorite bands and I just love them. They are a hard, rockin' band with delightful lyrics. They're very comical and creative. I'm proud to ever have known Tim Alexander. You just have to hear him to believe it. Go back to my original blog about them and watch the video. Go on, I dare ya.
Iron and Wine
IRON AND WINE
Now we're talking. My brother turned me onto Iron and Wine and I was pleasantly surprised when I realized they were the ones who did Flightless Bird, American Mouth, which I already knew from the Twighlight soundtrack and in fact, is my favorite song from that album.
Singer, song writer , Samuel Beam is a true poet and his poetry is set to quiet and mellow music and I absolutely love him. He writes stream of consciousness poetry and his vocals make love to his words and I savor them like a fine wine. It's listening music. I put the lyrics up every time one of their songs come on my radio.
So, watch the video and read the lyrics and enjoy.
Love and peace,
Kelli
Now we're talking. My brother turned me onto Iron and Wine and I was pleasantly surprised when I realized they were the ones who did Flightless Bird, American Mouth, which I already knew from the Twighlight soundtrack and in fact, is my favorite song from that album.
Singer, song writer , Samuel Beam is a true poet and his poetry is set to quiet and mellow music and I absolutely love him. He writes stream of consciousness poetry and his vocals make love to his words and I savor them like a fine wine. It's listening music. I put the lyrics up every time one of their songs come on my radio.
So, watch the video and read the lyrics and enjoy.
Love and peace,
Kelli
Sunday, March 08, 2015
Everlast
Everlast is actually the stage name of musician, Erik Francis Schrody and I adore him. What It's Like is a phenominal song as are most of his songs which are heavy on the lyrics. What It's Like is a brutally honest and poetic song about the forgotten misfits in this world. The lyrics are heavy but the music is strong too, he reminds me a little of Sublime, with his funky rock music and low, gravely voice.
So far, I've not heard an Everlast song that I didn't love and I highly recommend listening to his songs with the lyrics up.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
So far, I've not heard an Everlast song that I didn't love and I highly recommend listening to his songs with the lyrics up.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
Friday, March 06, 2015
Why I Hate My Old Radio Station (some of the Other Stuff)
It's bad enough that I was stuck listening to pop music on my radio, as there are no good stations in this hick-ass part of the country. My only other options were classic rock or country, which I cannot abide listening to all the time. So, I settled for a pop station (majic 107.7). I would have it on all the time and kept the volume real low, just waiting for a very small handful of songs I liked. I'd say I absolutely hated 95% of the music and waited for that 5% of music I actually liked. Artists like Ed Sheeran and Christina Perry. Artists who, although they are much better than all the other pop shit, have broken into pop radio. I mean, good for them I guess, at least they're making some money.
What finally put me over the edge was a commercial endorsing a tax that our lovely governor, Sam Brownback, whom I completely dispise, on cigarettes. He's proposing $1.50 tax on cigarettes per pack and my old station obviously endorses him. It's not that I have anything against political ads but when they don't play ads telling the other sides to the story, that makes it propaganda and I will not abide by that.
So, I turned my radio off for good. Then, my sister, Dusti, reminded me to listen to Pandora, which I had forgotten about. It literally changed my daily life. I am so much happier listening to really good music and I love her for that. Pandora is an internet station that you basically create yourself. You pick the artists you like and put them on your list and then Pandora plays them and plays suggested songs as well. You can skip songs you don't like (which doesn't happen often) and you can pause it to go pee or whatever. It's freakin' awesome. I love that they play obscure stuff too. I really had no idea there was such good new music out there.
Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
What finally put me over the edge was a commercial endorsing a tax that our lovely governor, Sam Brownback, whom I completely dispise, on cigarettes. He's proposing $1.50 tax on cigarettes per pack and my old station obviously endorses him. It's not that I have anything against political ads but when they don't play ads telling the other sides to the story, that makes it propaganda and I will not abide by that.
So, I turned my radio off for good. Then, my sister, Dusti, reminded me to listen to Pandora, which I had forgotten about. It literally changed my daily life. I am so much happier listening to really good music and I love her for that. Pandora is an internet station that you basically create yourself. You pick the artists you like and put them on your list and then Pandora plays them and plays suggested songs as well. You can skip songs you don't like (which doesn't happen often) and you can pause it to go pee or whatever. It's freakin' awesome. I love that they play obscure stuff too. I really had no idea there was such good new music out there.
Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
Three Doors Down (Here Without You)
THREE DOORS DOWN
I'm actually not all that crazy about 3 Doors Down but their song, Here Without You, happens to be one of my favorite songs in the world and it was my husband's and my song. So, this blog will focus on that one song.
The singer's name is Brad Arnold and in the video for Here Without You, he is so soulful and sexy. However, I've heard some of their live stuff and he's one of those performers who encourages the crowd to get into the songs and does things like having the crowd sing a whole verse of the song and that gets on my nerves.
However! Here Without You is my favorite rock ballad in the world. The lyrics are lovely and they totally fit me and my late husband to a tee. When he was alive, it was his song to me and now that he's gone, the song is perfect for me to him. I am, indeed, here without him.
I'm including the beautiful video. Please watch it and listen to the words and think of me and Jimmy. Enjoy.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
I'm actually not all that crazy about 3 Doors Down but their song, Here Without You, happens to be one of my favorite songs in the world and it was my husband's and my song. So, this blog will focus on that one song.
The singer's name is Brad Arnold and in the video for Here Without You, he is so soulful and sexy. However, I've heard some of their live stuff and he's one of those performers who encourages the crowd to get into the songs and does things like having the crowd sing a whole verse of the song and that gets on my nerves.
However! Here Without You is my favorite rock ballad in the world. The lyrics are lovely and they totally fit me and my late husband to a tee. When he was alive, it was his song to me and now that he's gone, the song is perfect for me to him. I am, indeed, here without him.
I'm including the beautiful video. Please watch it and listen to the words and think of me and Jimmy. Enjoy.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
Wednesday, March 04, 2015
Rickie Lee Jones
RICKIE LEE JONES
I'll mainly be talking about Rickie Lee Jones' first and second albums as her later stuff I can't seem to find the lyrics for, which makes it hard to critique.
I know her first, self-titled album intimately. I used to sing every word and I simply absorbed it.
Her poetry on her first and second albums astounds me. The arrangement of the music is phenominal as well. She's multi-talented and just so ultimately cool.
When I was fifteen, Rickie Lee Jones was my hero. I even went so far as to go to Phoenix when I was about nineteen to stay in an old hotel that reminded me of her songs. The carpet was old and flowery. There were grand stairs and the old style, wooden reception desk complete with window and slots for mail. Old guys on their last dime hung around in the lobby where there was a t.v. The flashing hotel sign right outside our window made it perfect.
My favorite songs from Rickie Lee Jones are Easy Money, The Last Chance Texaco, Danny's All-Star Joint and Company. Easy Money is a hip, street-smart song with lyrics that really spin a tale, as most of her songs do. The Last Chance Texaco is a clever song about a man and his big rig. Danny's All-Star Joint is a happy, upbeat song with great lyrics about the owner of a jukebox joint. She slows it way down on Company, a sweet song about friendship and lonliness.
She's a one-of-a-kind artist and poet and her songs are well crafted as well as well written. If you haven't noticed by now, I adore Rickie Lee Jones.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
I'll mainly be talking about Rickie Lee Jones' first and second albums as her later stuff I can't seem to find the lyrics for, which makes it hard to critique.
I know her first, self-titled album intimately. I used to sing every word and I simply absorbed it.
Her poetry on her first and second albums astounds me. The arrangement of the music is phenominal as well. She's multi-talented and just so ultimately cool.
When I was fifteen, Rickie Lee Jones was my hero. I even went so far as to go to Phoenix when I was about nineteen to stay in an old hotel that reminded me of her songs. The carpet was old and flowery. There were grand stairs and the old style, wooden reception desk complete with window and slots for mail. Old guys on their last dime hung around in the lobby where there was a t.v. The flashing hotel sign right outside our window made it perfect.
My favorite songs from Rickie Lee Jones are Easy Money, The Last Chance Texaco, Danny's All-Star Joint and Company. Easy Money is a hip, street-smart song with lyrics that really spin a tale, as most of her songs do. The Last Chance Texaco is a clever song about a man and his big rig. Danny's All-Star Joint is a happy, upbeat song with great lyrics about the owner of a jukebox joint. She slows it way down on Company, a sweet song about friendship and lonliness.
She's a one-of-a-kind artist and poet and her songs are well crafted as well as well written. If you haven't noticed by now, I adore Rickie Lee Jones.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
Mazzy Star
MAZZY STAR
Mazzy Star is not a woman's name, it is a band. The true 'star' of the band, however, is the vocalist, Hope Sandoval. Her voice and style are truly unique and quite wonderful, I think. She, as well as Amy Winehouse (review #3), has a perfect score with the Pandora 'likes'. I love everything they do.
Her vocals are soft and quiet, though not as much so as Margo Timmins of Cowboy Junkies. Their lyrics are poetic, a little more literate than the poetry I'm used to but lovely just the same.
I don't think it's possible to stick them in a genre because they really are that unique. I think they're in a league of their own and I highly recommend them.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
Mazzy Star is not a woman's name, it is a band. The true 'star' of the band, however, is the vocalist, Hope Sandoval. Her voice and style are truly unique and quite wonderful, I think. She, as well as Amy Winehouse (review #3), has a perfect score with the Pandora 'likes'. I love everything they do.
Her vocals are soft and quiet, though not as much so as Margo Timmins of Cowboy Junkies. Their lyrics are poetic, a little more literate than the poetry I'm used to but lovely just the same.
I don't think it's possible to stick them in a genre because they really are that unique. I think they're in a league of their own and I highly recommend them.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
Cowboy Junkies (The Trinity Sessions)
COWBOY JUNKIES
This review is mostly about one album, The Trinity Sessions. I've listened to it a million times and I've only heard a little of their newer stuff.
The Trinity Sessions was recorded in a church and it's a beautiful album. Margo Timmins' vocals are soft and floating. It's a very quiet album. I used to love listening to it as I fell asleep. If I was to play that album now, I'd know every word. The lyrics are gorgeous. They, like Iron and Wine and Nirvana, are poetry set to good music. I'm not comparing them except for the fact that they're alike in that way and that puts them high on my list of favorites.
Their songs are haunting, bordering on creepy at times and I love that. I liked falling asleep to them because her vocals are soothing, almost hypnotic.
They take me back to my times in Tulsa, where I listened to that album endlessly. Those were good times. In the four years I lived on my own in Tulsa, I was opened up to a lot of good music, both locally and recorded. Some of my fondest memories are from that time and this album, The Trinity Sessions, is one of them and I highly recommend it. If you only like hard, upbeat music, this album is not for you.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
This review is mostly about one album, The Trinity Sessions. I've listened to it a million times and I've only heard a little of their newer stuff.
The Trinity Sessions was recorded in a church and it's a beautiful album. Margo Timmins' vocals are soft and floating. It's a very quiet album. I used to love listening to it as I fell asleep. If I was to play that album now, I'd know every word. The lyrics are gorgeous. They, like Iron and Wine and Nirvana, are poetry set to good music. I'm not comparing them except for the fact that they're alike in that way and that puts them high on my list of favorites.
Their songs are haunting, bordering on creepy at times and I love that. I liked falling asleep to them because her vocals are soothing, almost hypnotic.
They take me back to my times in Tulsa, where I listened to that album endlessly. Those were good times. In the four years I lived on my own in Tulsa, I was opened up to a lot of good music, both locally and recorded. Some of my fondest memories are from that time and this album, The Trinity Sessions, is one of them and I highly recommend it. If you only like hard, upbeat music, this album is not for you.
Love and Peace,
Kelli
Amy Winehouse
AMY WINEHOUSE
I'm skipping to Amy Winehouse because I'm listening to her right now.
On Pandora, there's a place to 'like' or 'dislike' a song. Amy Winehouse has a perfect record. I've never not 'liked' one of her songs. I think she was phenomenal in her short career. She is way at the top of my list of favorite vocalists. Her voice was like velvet with a rough edge, so gravely and soulful. She was unique to the core.
I get wrapped up in Amy Winehouse songs. I hope you do too.
I'm skipping to Amy Winehouse because I'm listening to her right now.
On Pandora, there's a place to 'like' or 'dislike' a song. Amy Winehouse has a perfect record. I've never not 'liked' one of her songs. I think she was phenomenal in her short career. She is way at the top of my list of favorite vocalists. Her voice was like velvet with a rough edge, so gravely and soulful. She was unique to the core.
I get wrapped up in Amy Winehouse songs. I hope you do too.
Julee Cruise
JULEE CRUISE
I love Julee Cruise. Her voice and her song choices are haunting and mellow and lovely.
I heard a story about her collaboration with David Lynch. She was actually a theater singer with a lot of female singers working for her and her job was to find the right singer for his song on the movie, Blue Velvet. It turned out that David Lynch was very particular about what he wanted and turned down singer after singer. So, exasperated and even though she was a belt-it-out theater singer, Julee Cruise said, "You mean like this?" and she sang how she thought he wanted it, kind of sweet and ethereal and he said, "That's it!"
The rest, as they say, is history.
My favorite Julee Cruise song.
I love Julee Cruise. Her voice and her song choices are haunting and mellow and lovely.
I heard a story about her collaboration with David Lynch. She was actually a theater singer with a lot of female singers working for her and her job was to find the right singer for his song on the movie, Blue Velvet. It turned out that David Lynch was very particular about what he wanted and turned down singer after singer. So, exasperated and even though she was a belt-it-out theater singer, Julee Cruise said, "You mean like this?" and she sang how she thought he wanted it, kind of sweet and ethereal and he said, "That's it!"
The rest, as they say, is history.
My favorite Julee Cruise song.
Primus
PRIMUS
Unfortunately, I'm just recently finally getting familiar with Primus. So far, I've loved every song I've heard on Pandora. They're up tempo and unique and funky. A little campy maybe. Good camp, not the cheesy kind of camp.
The most noteworthy thing I can say about them is that I used to know the on again, off again drummer, Tim Alexander, when he was in his very first band, Major Lingo. He's the most excellent drummer I've ever watched and many other people say the same thing. He's extremely talented. One of the times he left Primus, he played with Blue Group for a while.
One of my friends dated him. I don't date drummers.
Well, there you have it. My first review and it's nice and short.
That's Tim Alexander on the drums in the video.
Unfortunately, I'm just recently finally getting familiar with Primus. So far, I've loved every song I've heard on Pandora. They're up tempo and unique and funky. A little campy maybe. Good camp, not the cheesy kind of camp.
The most noteworthy thing I can say about them is that I used to know the on again, off again drummer, Tim Alexander, when he was in his very first band, Major Lingo. He's the most excellent drummer I've ever watched and many other people say the same thing. He's extremely talented. One of the times he left Primus, he played with Blue Group for a while.
One of my friends dated him. I don't date drummers.
Well, there you have it. My first review and it's nice and short.
That's Tim Alexander on the drums in the video.
Tuesday, March 03, 2015
Why I'm Here
Well, hello y'all. I'm here because I have been reading a lot of music reviews and every time I read one, I think I could do better, so I'm here to prove it. I hope you all enjoy.
I'm going to review the artists I have on my Pandora list to begin with and then I'm going to review individual songs.
My Pandora list:
Primus *Julee Cruise *Cowboy Junkies *Mazzy Star *Rickie Lee Jones *Alison Krauss *Red Hot Chili Peppers *Everlast *Iron & Wine *Grace Potter & The Nocturnals *Kate Bush *Sublime *Coldplay *Adele *Ed Sheeran *The Civil Wars *Christina Perri *Serena Ryder *ABBA *Tori Amos *Dixie Chicks *Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova *Alanis Morissette *Fiona Apple *Bonnie Raitt *Amy Winehouse *Sheryl Crow *Snow Patrol *Keane *Muse *Third Eye Blind *Nirvana *Radiohead *Live *3 Doors Down
I'm going to review the artists I have on my Pandora list to begin with and then I'm going to review individual songs.
My Pandora list:
Primus *Julee Cruise *Cowboy Junkies *Mazzy Star *Rickie Lee Jones *Alison Krauss *Red Hot Chili Peppers *Everlast *Iron & Wine *Grace Potter & The Nocturnals *Kate Bush *Sublime *Coldplay *Adele *Ed Sheeran *The Civil Wars *Christina Perri *Serena Ryder *ABBA *Tori Amos *Dixie Chicks *Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova *Alanis Morissette *Fiona Apple *Bonnie Raitt *Amy Winehouse *Sheryl Crow *Snow Patrol *Keane *Muse *Third Eye Blind *Nirvana *Radiohead *Live *3 Doors Down
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