Songs

So somebody who I'll be a lady and not name (Jay) found out that we both have a mutual love for the band Our Lady Peace. But when he asked what my favourite song of theirs was, I couldn't give a straight answer. Furthermore, I couldn't even name a favourite album because three of them stand out as being superb in my eyes for totally different reasons. Today I went on a quest to find my favourite song. While I still may not be satisfied with the choice, it will have to do.


Raine's Top Seven Our Lady Peace Songs:

7. "Starseed" from Naveed
This was the first OLP song I ever heard. It is sentimental, it is clean, it is energetic, and it can't be forgotten in my top seven.


6. "4am" from Clumsy
The first time I heard this song I wasn't listening to the words. I was young, I wanted something upbeat, and I changed the track. A few days later, it hit me just how close this song comes to me. Immediately I thought of it as a prediction of what was to come.

I walked around my good intentions
And found that there were none
I blame my father for the wasted years
We hardly talked
I never thought I would forget this hate...


5. "Right Behind You (Mafia)" from Spiritual Machines
For a long time this album was my favourite. I sang this song with all my heart when I was a teenager and all I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and never come out.


4. "Made to Heal" from Spiritual Machines
While this was originally not a song I thought of for the list, it has significance to me personally. It's love and hate. It's.. life.


3. "Potato Girl" from Happiness is Not a Fish that You Can Catch
The buildup, the words, the tune.. it always gets me.

I'm just so tired of waking up on the ground

Oh yes. That just hits me. And so does the rest of the song. Just listen to the lyrics. Listen to his voice.


2. "Is Anybody Home?" from Happiness is Not a Fish that You Can Catch
Not only does it convey the contempt for society that I have, but the song is very well paced. I enjoy when a song that really rocks takes the time to slow down. Those softer words are powerful. They force the listener to pay attention. "Has anybody wasted tears on loneliness that everyone becomes?" Brilliant. Really, how can you not relate?


1. "Annie" from Happiness is Not a Fish that You Can Catch
This song often reminded me of... well, me. Sometimes I wonder if I'd end up like Annie if some little things in my life had been different.

You're a little bit shy, a little too quiet. You're the mixed up girl that everybody leaves behind. A little bit weird, a little to bright. But you just might be that little bomb at their side. They'll pull your hair, they'll leave you wide eyed. But did anybody wonder what Annie might have in mind? Oh no.

This part is very reminiscent of my childhood. While no one pulled my hair (I was very intimidating) they certainly called me names and made me feel like an outcast. I never let it show, but it ate me up inside. I would often imagine the demise of my... enemies.

You're a little bit dry. A little uptight. You're the messed up girl that everyone tries to hide.You've had enough. They're too unkind. But did anyone consider what Annie might have in mind?

I high school I readily identified here. I'd found out that friends of the family had gone years without knowing that I existed, while knowing everything there was to know about my brother. My father didn't find me to be topical because I wasn't accomplishing all the things my brother did. I was also always wearing black, and always looking angry. Because I really /was/ angry.

It wasn't normal teenage angst like my friends. It was anger because I knew my father was cheating on my mother and no one else knew. And what can a kid do about that? I was boiling with rage, and I really would have been considered dangerous had I let anyone know what I was thinking at the time. I often joked that I would be profiled as a school shooter, even though I was a pacifist who made and wore an Anti-War arm band to school from the start of the Iraq war until graduation, and who only skipped school to go to peace rallies in Washington, DC.

Part of me still identifies with Annie. The rest of me knows better.

The weekend

I think I’ve been given the excuse I’ve been looking for to disown my father and never speak to him again. I’d just never imagined it would come around like this.

We tend to argue a lot. And to clarify, I mean that we’ve had three hour long arguments in the past. Since I was about twelve years old he’s been changing. He’s not the same man I waited for at the top of the steps every night when he’d come home from work. He’s a monster. He throws people away like trash and is only concerned with money. He thinks anyone who doesn’t live in a mansion and doesn’t have top-of-the-line everything is a loser. He once told me I was a loser when he asked me what I wanted in life and I replied that all I needed to be happy was to be able to support the family I want in the future and to be happy and live comfortably.

But as he said, only losers don’t want a castle and 40 cars.

So we get into fights over a lot of things. This weekend we went out of town together to visit my brother. He was okay on the flight out, and even pleasant the first day there. I mean, we’ve gotten along so well for months now and it was refreshing to see that we could coexist peacefully. This wouldn’t be the case for long.

He picks a fight with me on the second day just before noon. According to him, I don’t care about looking feminine (his definition is pretty much a skanky whore) and I need to start caring about my appearance. “Everyone I know says you could be a knockout. Why don’t you act and dress the part?” Blah blah blah.

We argue, it gets very heated, I throw up my hands and go inside, and he and my brother go out to the store. Three hours later? He picks the SAME FIGHT again. Only this time he’s insulting me more personally, and then insults my mother for good measure. Long story shorter than it would be otherwise, he says all the right things to get me furious, I call him out on being a jackass, and he transforms even further into a monster, holds his fist up to my face, and then a second later hits me.

It did not hurt. Not physically, anyway.

I yell at him not to hit me. He yells at me to keep quiet. I get off the couch (yeah, he was standing over me the whole time) and leave for a walk. My brother races after me, not knowing what happened other than knowing there was yelling going on in his house. I tell him, he gets pissed at our dad and brings me to sit in his car while he goes inside to give our dad the “what the FUCK were you THINKING?” talk.

I’ve never had anyone stand up for me. Ever. It was nice. I wish I could have heard or seen it. I almost don’t believe it. Not because my brother wouldn’t do that, but because he NEVER stands up to our dad, and no one, ever in the history of my existence, has stood up and fought for me. I was never able to rely on others because no one would ever be there. No one cared enough to get mad over my mistreatment. And honestly to this day I can’t understand why anyone would. I’m so used to thinking I’m unworthy and unwanted that I can’t accept it when someone steps up for me.

But that’s another story.

So my dad and I played nice after a few hours. I think he really thought I was okay with everything. He was wrong. We are completely not okay. I always said that any man who raised a hand to me would be tossed out of my life faster than he could blink. I just never factored in my blood relatives.

So as soon as we got to the airport and my brother was gone, I steadfastly ignored the man. I could not change my seat next to him on the flight, because everything was booked. I was at the window, so I leaned away from him and looked out and listened to my iPod for the duration of the flight. When we got to the airport, I told him I was getting a ride with someone else.

That someone was Shy. I’d sent him text messages about the ordeal after it happened, and asked if he was free to maybe give me a ride to my car from the airport. He doesn’t live far from there. He wasn’t free. But he made the time for me. In the car he told me how he needed to get home before his dad did or there would be hell to pay – while Shy is not religious, his dad is and they’re Muslim. If he didn’t get home in time for prayer for Ramadan, his dad would be really mad. I mean, it’s their major holiday. It’s when he makes his kids observe his religion.

But he got me from the airport anyway. And he talked. And told me stories. And I was laughing and giggling. And I felt like me again after 4 hours of airport/flight crappiness. When we got to my car I dropped my bag on the ground and then got back in the car and leaned over and gave him a hug and thanked him yet again for everything. I told him it meant a lot to me. He told me it was nothing.

I love how boys ALWAYS look like deer in headlights when a girl hugs them and says something sincere =)

So now I have to figure out if I’m throwing my dad out of my life forever. Yep. Decision making is overrated.

oh god

Long talk with The Captain.

Chest hurts. Can't breathe. Heart ripped to shreds and glued back together. Scar tissue. Love.

Hope.

Goddamnit.

The votes are in!

I’ve asked around, and it seems there is one clear reason that no guy wants me: I am intimidating. When my ex-boyfriend told me this, I laughed. And no, he wasn’t citing it as the reason we broke up – for I broke up with him. But after a few seconds, I realized that he was probably right. So I polled my male friends – the ones I’m absolutely just friends with, and asked them to be as honest as possible. These were the results:


Boy One: You’re intimidating. I know you’re just being you, but that’s often tough to compete with.

Boy Two: You have a really strong personality. Anyone who knows you knows they can’t dominate you and that turns some guys off.

Boy Three: Scowling. You’re “relaxed” face is something that would make mothers scoop of their kids and run away. It’s ironic because when you’re talking I can’t recall a time when you weren't smiling or grinning.

Boy Four: Intimidation is your middle name. Right?

Boy Five: You’re a guy. You don’t understand decorative-pillows. You give directions with street names and distances, not landmarks. You game and you vie for world domination. Just now when you said you wouldn’t get mad at me for my answer, I knew it wasn’t some girly ploy to use something against me later. You say what you mean. You’re smart. Men compete for alpha male status. They don’t want to compete with a girl for that.

Boy Six: Intimidation. You’re not intimidating to me, because I’ve known you so long I think. But I can definitely see you being so.



I thought I’d get more varied answers. I thought maybe it was some group of things. I didn’t expect the answer to simply be that so long as I’m being myself, I’m just not dateable. I wonder if there are any boys in the world who like a girl with a strong personality, a brain, and an apparent need to compete for alpha male status.

These are a few of my favourite things…

I was going to write a post about a US Senator who is suing god. To prove a point about frivolous lawsuits, he’s seeking a permanent injunction ordering god to cease harmful activities, citing “fearsome floods, egregious earthquakes, horrendous hurricanes, terrifying tornadoes, pestilential plagues, ferocious famines, devastating droughts, genocidal wars, birth defects, and the like.”

It accuses god “of making and continuing to make terroristic threats of grave harm to innumerable persons, including constituents of Plaintiff who Plaintiff has the duty to represent… [as well as] calamitous catastrophes resulting in the wide-spread death, destruction and terrorization of millions upon millions of the Earth’s inhabitants including innocent babes, infants, children, the aged and infirm without mercy or distinction.”

The lawsuit even goes so far as to say that god goes by many aliases, and because god is “omnipresent” it is safe to assume that after reasonable attempts to contact the plaintiff, that god will know of the lawsuit, even though he was unreachable.

I find it pretty ridiculous. Personally I hold all religion in the same contempt, but this? I don’t think it proves his point. Well… maybe a little, but it saddens me that a Senator would make such a mockery of our legal system. Is it also sad that I had a dream last night in which I finally got a copy of the US Constitution small enough to fit in my pocket? I was so happy when I got it.

And… wait a minute! It looks like I wrote the post I’d previously agreed not to write. Very well.

Knock some sense into yourself

I met myself on a busy Philadelphia street. It was late afternoon, and I was buying Water Ice from Pop’s down on the coolest address in Philly: 1337 Oregon Avenue. [get it? 1337? Oh yes, I am a nerd.]

Twelve years old, dressed in black from head to tow, sarcastic and cynical, I was quite the sight to behold. So what does my 22 year old self say to 12 year old me?

Never be afraid to say what you feel or think, because you’re going to have a shitload of regrets when you don’t. Eventually you’ll get over them, but they’ll always haunt you. And when you feel a connection with someone, always, ALWAYS tell them.

Kiss that boy, damnit. Shyness is not cute when it makes you miserable. Don’t repeat my mistakes. Don’t date a guy for two years and let him get away with never kissing you once. Yeah, he’ll be a ton of fun. Yeah, you’ll care about each other. But it’s not love. Especially when he won’t kiss you because he doesn’t want to get close. He’s right that you’ll leave him behind and go to college. But get your act together and live, damnit! Don’t be me: a college graduate whose never been in a real relationship, let alone hooked up with or even kissed anyone.

Learn to open up. Don’t wait until you’ve had three nervous breakdowns to realize that keeping everything to yourself is a bad idea. You are going to experience terrible things. Lots of death: both slow and horrible and quick and accidental. Your entire childhood will be turned upside down. You’ll be dragged through hell and back like a see-saw. It’s NOT good to bare all of that on your own. It’s okay to act your age and ask for help. Or just find someone to listen.

Cut your hair. I don’t care how much twelve year old me loved having hair so long it went all the way down her back. You freakin’ look better when it’s shorter and just past the shoulders.

Get your hands x-rayed. Yeah, this is a weird one, but sometime between six years old and fifteen years old I broke both my wrists and didn’t think it hurt enough to complain about it. By the time my doctors took an x-ray because I had pain from a week-old injury, my radii had long since healed themselves incorrectly. Breaking a bone into three parts and letting it set itself isn’t good. It will cause a lifetime of pain. Especially when you manage it on two hands!

Stop being a cold-hearted bitch. You know you’re not. You know you’re.. how did Shy put it? A “sweetie pie.” So don’t scare the world away.

Learn to study. Yes, you’re a freakin’ genius. Everyone knows it. You coast through school doing nothing, getting Fs at mid-terms, and then doing a little work and pulling your 62% failing grade to anywhere from 80-95%. I know. So why the hell don’t you just work a little all year? You’ll coast through school, get a 4-year academic scholarship to an excellent university, and then have NO DAMN CLUE what to do in college. Study? YOU? Blasphemy! Right up until you choke and lose your scholarship and barely pass your classes because you still refuse to open a book or do ANY kind of studying. Good job.

Lastly, I’d say, “You’ve traveled the world. Seen 19 different countries. Learned one foreign language and are well on the road to learning another. Drag raced a Camero and won. Made a two-time heavyweight champion of the world cry. Wowed audiences with your original fiction. Had your heart broken by everyone you ever cared for. Lost most of the people you loved. And learned that following your gut will never, ever lead you down the wrong path. And you’re only 22 years old. So chill out, and don’t hate the world and yourself. Because you’ll find out it just doesn’t get better than you, in this lifetime.

And what would my twelve year old self say to me?


“Leave me alone.”

“I can’t believe you cut my hair.”

“You’ve NEVER had a real boyfriend?”

“I can see why no one wants you.”

“Go away.”




Yep. I sure was a “sweetie pie” when I was a kid =P

So I figured...

If random internet people can immediately point out a major flaw in my life, then I've just been a lazy person. Thanks, Jay. I just booked a non-refundable flight to see the Captain in the spring. He is very excited to be seeing me. Who says the internet is full of crazies?

Well... I do, but I'm one of them!

Talked to Shy a whole lot last night. Stupid boy keeps me up late hours with conversation because he's unemployed and doesn't need to wake up early. There were a few very personal moments, but I don't think any went beyond "very good friends." There was also a lot of talk about HBO's Flight of the Conchords. I freakin' love that show. One day I need a guy to sing "If you're into it" to me. Hahahah!

What the hell?

Oh shit. I just remembered something: What do you do when you find yourself wanting to say "I love you" to someone you don't love?

I caught myself with Shy. We were saying goodbye last night, and I felt my throat tighten just a little the way it always does when I'm about to speak, and in my head I heard "I love you." Sometimes when I think about saying something I can feel myself making the words with my mouth, even though I'm not moving. That's what it was like. I felt it. I felt myself mouthing those words but it was an illusion while I just looked at him with my lips firmly shut. And I don't understand it. I have done this on the phone, too, but I always figured that it was reflexive - as my mother's about the only one who calls me regularly, so maybe Shy catches me in a habit. When I'm not physically in his presence, or hearing his voice, I have no desire or impulse to say those words.

When I think about him, and I mean really think about him, I know I don't love him. So.. deep down I know the truth and for some reason it's not registering? Sounds lame, but it's true. I can search my heart and say that I don't love him with certainty. So why all of this?

With Shy, it's being with him and hearing him that makes me want to blurt out such false sentiments. But with The Captain, I think it regularly, without provocation. That's love. Not this... thing with Shy.

Have I gotten to a point where loving and being loved are so important that I trick myself into thinking that I might want and be wanted in return? Why does it suddenly seem like wanting someone is important to me. I think I'm looking for some way to prove to myself that I'm capable of loving someone in te physical world. Loving The Captain is like loving a literary character. It's so true and not real - because all we have is writing.

This is clearly not the best scenario.

Another night out? Is that a record?

After an hour of figuring out what we were going to do, I saw Shy again. The guy has no decision-making skills, and I have learned that he can’t plan even a few hours in advance for things. He over thinks.

He was less strange, but I only felt once in the whole night that I saw a glimpse of his real personality. The rest of the night it was clouded by other friends with us, the group dynamic, and his irrepressible need to both be close to me and push me away like I’m diseased. I wonder if maybe he doesn't know how to act with a girl who is his friend, not his girlfriend? Funny. And they say girls are complicated.

Also, every time I see him I end the night with odd bug bites on my legs. Maybe he’s a shaman in disguise, and he is plotting my eventual death via slowly getting bitten by a million bugs until one night a deadly, venomous one shows up? Then again, maybe I’m just outside more often when we’re hanging out. Who knows?

Slow Sunday

Today I listened to music and cleaned. The new Spoon album didn't fit my mood and I need a new needle for my record player. I listened to a whole bunch of songs of different genres, but I specifically I threw on a mix with a softer side for a good mid-day rest on my new sofa. It had songs like:

Piano Man, Billy Joel
1979, Smashing Pumpkins
Piazza, New York Catcher, Belle and Sebastian
Current Therapist, In Civilian Clothing
Sway, Jessica King
Stairway to Heaven , Rodrigo y Gabriela
Freeze The Saints, Stephen Malkmus
Beyond the Sea, Royal Crown Revue
Sky Blue Sky, Wilco

Completely wonderful. I doubt there could have been anything more relaxing at that moment in time. It felt like I'd become one with the sofa: and I was comfort.

Had some fun with Illustrator CS3 this evening. Made a few t-shirt designs, and I'm hoping I get the design job I want. I've been saving up money, so I've got enough to buy myself CS3 (I currently use a copy from work) but now I'm thinking my money may be better spent on a new laptop. The Powerbook G4 is three years old now, and Macs leave a horrible taste in my mouth. The time for a PC laptop is approaching. I can feel it in my bones. It will be nice to be dual platform at home again.

Mr. Shy didn't get in touch, but it's been one day - why would he? I thought about it on and off all day. Not because I feel anything for him beyond friendship, but because I'm just tired of complications and I don't want him hurt. I'd considered the idea that I seek complication, and perhaps all of this is in my head - but I'm not that kind of girl. I like things to be clear cut and honest. It's never been honesty and clarity that lacked on my part of things, so I can only assume for now that it's the other person.

Complications

I have been talking to this amazing guy, Captain Wonderful, online for a few years. He loves me. He told me as much. I am friends with all of his friends. I am possibly his best friend. He told me that, too. And I don’t think he wants me. If he does, he has a strange way of showing it – by dating someone else and replacing me.

I have another guy I’ve been talking to for far less. We’ll call him Mr. Shy. I haven’t been able to figure out if he has a thing for me or not. There are big hints, and there are big possibilities that I’m making it all up because The Captain hurt me.

I met Shy in person last night. We were in a group and didn’t get much time to talk directly with each other, but it was fun. I was kind of a 5th wheel type in the group, but I participated and had a great time. I would love to get to know him, as friends, with some time together that doesn’t involve 800 other people. I am not in love with him. I am fully in love with The Captain. But I would like to get to know Shy a little better. He’s a good friend, and I could use another good friend.

Is it weird that he called me 30 seconds after we said goodbye and got in our cars and left the restaurant where everyone went for drinks? I hope he doesn’t like me, like me. That would make my life far more complicated than it needs to be.

He has pretty blue eyes. Just like The Captain.