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12.27.2005

The Wheel

My family coming together
for the holiday season this
year was special.








It's not that it hasn't been special in the past, but this year I feel like our being together wasn't taken for granted. We're all older, we've had a death in my mother's immediate family this year, and our relationships, as much as they seem very much the same, have gradually become more 'grown-up'.

For too many, this holiday season was a haunting reminder of lives lost, families dissevered and homes destroyed. For some, this will be the last holiday season and for others, this is the first of many.

The end of the year prefaces a new cycle, a new season, a new start.
Once again, this is just the beginning.

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 3:04 PM | link | 1 comments |


12.22.2005

Not as $Negative

This X-Mas is different.









An NYC transit strike meant I 'worked from home' this week. I hope I live to see the day when we all 'work from home.'

A couple of days ago my husband and I were trying to recall what we gave to the family for X-Mas last year. It took a minute, but we both remembered at the same time, full force. We stopped at a gas station one hour away from the eight-hour-journey's destination and bought $50 worth of lottery tickets - we were thinking it was a good thing we showed up with presents BEFORE we arrived for X-Mas celebrations.

Things are different this year. We actually have more that $50 to spend on X-Mas presents, and I've had all week to do some seriously thoughtful shopping - er, I mean 'working'. Direct deposit is scheduled for tomorrow, and I'm feeling calm. For the first time in the history of my being an 'adult,' I feel calm - and it's three days before X-Mas.

The bills are paid, we have gifts that consist of anything but lottery tickets, and I selected tomorrow as a vacation day. Huzby is working tomorrow, so he's in bed. It's giving me the urge to listen to my most requently recorded music. This is Rock*Candy three years ago, before I was married, and before I accepted the fact that I needed my current job more than I needed a band. Listening to this makes me remember why I like playing drums so much.
Note: I'm not singing, I'm playing drums.

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 9:02 PM | link | 0 comments |


12.21.2005

The True Spirit of X-Mas

At work we decided to have
a holiday fundraiser for the
onsite senior programs.







It was a jewelry sale. People donated jewelry and we sold it for a very reasonable price. The fundraiser raked in $630.00 - not bad for an hour selling pretty nice jewelry at $5 and $10 bucks a pop. Toward the end, some of the staff came in to check out the goods. Most bought something, it's a fundraiser.

Shortly after the Jewels Event, I learned that one of the staff members has an 'eye' for authentic gems and had gone out on her lunch break to get her new ring appraised. She learned her ring was worth $700. She didn't donate it to the fundraiser. She came back to the office and made sure everyone in the building knew she just bought a $700 ring for $10 - within an hour. Now that's class.

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 9:15 PM | link | 3 comments |


12.20.2005

Where the Wave Takes Me

Being in a band is like
being in a relationship.








You put yourself out there in search of a meaningful relationship with other musicians. You know that you can't let attraction distract you, and this allows for energy (stored with alternative intentions in mind) to throw itself into the 'dating' portion of your 'sensational music accompaniment' quest. The fact of the matter is that your talent is waiting to be complimented, and there's not enough time in the day to work, practice AND date. But that's just me.

I was introduced to a drum set in college and it was love at first boom. I was playing bass at the time, which was great because it was a lot easier than learning the guitar, but it was missing something: my feet. All four of my limbs took to the drums and I was in a band before I knew what happened. Strap On Fantasy - that was the name of my first band. We were two guitars (both vocals, male) an organ (male), and drums (me, female). We recorded an album, played 8 shows (2 outside), and came in 3rd place at Battle of the Bands. Then we graduated and the four of us went in four different directions all over the continental US. It's 10 years later and I don't remember any specific songs, but I know we rocked. Trust me, sexual tension makes for very good music.

Seven bands later, I found myself being referred to a guitarist via my sister. "But he's so much younger than me...," I remember saying. "Don't worry about it," she said. "Just try it. I think your sounds will work well together." The next week we met, and we made a 'date'. He came over (guitar in hand) and I showed him where the 'sound room' was - I opened the door to the basement. I stalled for a minute and told my roommate, Amy, to join us. "What would I play?" she asked. (She's skilled at the acoustic guitar and banjo.) "Play bass, it's easy - and you'll be able to play around with it - you'll like it." She came with me downstairs. The rest, as they say, is history. Ms. Bassist married Mr. Guitarist, and six years later, RockStarCandy (the band trio) is expecting the newest member in its rock n' roll family. Amy is six months pregnant.

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 11:01 PM | link | 2 comments |


12.17.2005

Bilingual

Tapped! You're it.









An article in the New York Times recounts a live radio broadcast from President Bush on Saturday during which he confirmed that he has ordered "...the National Security Agency to conduct an electronic eavesdropping program in the United States without first obtaining warrants, and said he would continue the highly classified program because it was 'a vital tool in our war against the terrorists.'"

Just who are the terrorists? In a seemingly unrelated article, a post by Miss Hag enlightened me to the fact that cannabis-smoking New Yorkers have reached the tip of the very-short-supply iceburg.

What will we do? What we've always done. Americans are bilingual, though not in the literal sense. We have the ability to pick any number of words to take on a new meaning. Whether it's drugs or war tactics, the lag time created before the code is cracked is all the time needed to get the job done.

So while President Bush is claiming that this deliberate invasion of Americans' right to privacy is for our own protection, it's continually apparent to me that the "War on Terror" is a guise being used to slowly chip away at our already diminishing freedoms.

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 1:30 PM | link | 1 comments |


12.15.2005

One-Way

Why am I wondering where
I made a mistake?








Through all the rest of it, I've managed to figure out emotions on a logical level. In fact, I have the ability to 'explain' my way in or out of any given emotion. For a while I was thinking it was a talent. Now I realize it's just a shortcut to creating my very own ultimate hurdle.

While every choice anyone ever makes in any given moment is the only one a person feels is 'right' at the time, the sequence of events invokes in a feeling of entrapment. I got myself in this situation, but how did I end up here?

It's happening again. I'm getting curious. Curious about what life would be like if I took yet another direction. I'm still me. And I'm still here. But I have a strong urge to be that person. That person over there. It's me. You'll see.

photo by: my sister
:: posted by chumpsrock, 10:58 PM | link | 6 comments |


12.14.2005

Uh oh

What will become of the
children's children?








Today, I read in the New York Times that the President of Iran is very publicly attesting to the idea that the countries who fought in World War II should be held responsible for Israel's nation location and he called "...the Nazi Holocaust a 'myth' used as a pretext for carving out a Jewish state in the heart of the Muslim world."

I guess I really didn't see this one coming.
Full article

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 9:45 PM | link | 0 comments |


12.11.2005

Us vs. Them

Today was pivotal.
The premise to this web log is:
Plant the seed of thought and watch it grow.







For the second time in two months, I'm going to claim to not be much of a movie buff. But today, something strange happened. My web log (as a unit) visited me in my everyday non-blog reality.

I started the log by writing about how tendencies of the universe are in my favor, only because why not assume it's my choice? And then I started asking my questions and wondering if I put them out there, whether my questions would be answered. Wouldn't you know it, I've been getting responses ever since.

Countless times I was told to read the book, 1984. I never read it because I prefer a cheat sheet (and I hate being told what to do.) I feel comfortable enough taking a stab at what I think the book is probably about: Politicals reign, Big Business rules and us human beings are tricked into being monitored and recorded for our own protection. This 'protection' is the very thing that strips away our human freedom. Well, I consider The Island to be the modern-day version of my interpretive non-read of 1984.

The movie is said to take place in 2019, which isn't far from now. It's a terrifying exploration into the possible evolution of 'big business,' intellectual properties and medical advancements. The movie made me wonder how long it will be before someone actually 'buys the rights' to God.

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 11:09 PM | link | 0 comments |


12.10.2005

Mum's the Word

No more I'll publish the al Jazeera memo button for me.








OK, Mom?

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 2:45 AM | link | 0 comments |


12.07.2005

Broaching an Inkling

A web log provides freedom of expression.
This comes in many forms, as I found out
one night while randomly searching for a blog
I'd care to revisit.

It was a long night, but I found it.
Diogenesian Discourse has introduced me to
a world I was beginning to think didn't exist.


He's an Australian Vietnam Veteran who simply speaks his mind, and in that, he's answered the questions I've never had the 'balls' to ask.

Since the beginning of the "War on Terror" I've seen many military recruitment stations throughout the course of my everyday commute. Yes, I take the subway in New York City.

Part of me wants to approach these young men and commend them. The other part of me doesn't want to start a conversation which will result in my wondering why I haven't joined the army. The second part of me always wins. I won't be able to explain myself to someone so young who is full of heart and good intentions. This doesn't mean I don't have the highest respect for these youthful, courageous wo/men who aren't afraid to defend and fight for our country. I do. I thank you with a kind of sincerity that can't be expressed in words, only tears.

More than 2,000 American men have perished in an effort to win the "War on Terror" which I firmly believe to be a war of power being played by the 'big businessmen.' The winner is the 'man' who finishes with the most oil. That's it. There's not a second thought given to the repercussions on a personal level - a human level. Our bravest and boldest aren't even old enough to fully comprehend how brave and bold they really are before they die.

I am truly grateful to read the words of a man who speaks from experience:

"...I'm just an uneducated vet spewing forth rants and hyperbole.

About soldiers, especially vets. Many believe (because of the propaganda and brainwashing in their training), that they are truly fighting for freedom and democracy. I too believed that in my Vietnam days. They don't know they've been fed a mountain of lies. They trust the government and the military. Their crime is trusting but trusting should not be a crime. That's what makes me so angry at those lying bastards.

They take basically good people who are trusting, loyal, courageous, willing to put their lives on the line, and then corrupt them with their lies and their brainwashing. If you want a definition of evil, that's one right there.

I believed I was fighting for freedom and democracy. I was badly deceived. But now, with this blog, I am fighting for freedom and democracy. I'm home at last.

They are extremely lucky I've become a pacifist along the way (no thanks to them), or who knows, I might have used some of those killing skills they taught me to make the ultimate protest right in their lying faces.

(Note to ASIO (our Homeland Security/FBI): Go get a woolly bull up ya!!!) (A typical Australian insult.)"

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 9:47 PM | link | 4 comments |


12.04.2005

A Pretty Penny

I live in a basement.
With 2.5 basement windows.








Since Meteorolgists get paid to tell fairytales, Fox (my dog) and I were pleastantly surprised to see snow on the ground when we walked up the seven stairs to the ground level this a.m.

I'd like to have a profession that pays me (decently) to be honest. But in this country, such jobs are hard to come by. If a person isn't applying for his dream job, the interview is a lie, the attire is a false impression and if hired, the employee is paid to be an asset to the employer. Not meeting the expectations results in poor reviews and will directly impact pursuing a different career.

A profession has surfaced in the last 20 years which deals with the repercussions of this career scenerio full of lies: Psychotherapy. Essentially, a psychotherapist is paid to shut up & listen. The sad part is that a person visiting a psychotherapist doesn't have anyone else to confide in (for free). Now we're charged to speak our minds? I suppose we're living in a world which is continually coming up with creative ways to make a buck. Even web logs have well-publicized links claiming to earn a few cents per click.

How are billions of people left feeling alone in this existence?
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a world where it's actually acceptable to be ourselves?

photo by: my sister
:: posted by chumpsrock, 9:52 PM | link | 0 comments |


12.02.2005

Anonymity

I'm not a New York native.
I'm a New Yorker.







I grew up in Maine.
I've lived in a few places on the West Coast and a few places on the East Coast.

I've driven cross-country six times.

I spend the holidays with my family in my hometown, and I disguise myself before going to the grocery store in an effort to avoid potential conversations with anyone I know from my past. I'm not ashamed of who I am or where I've been, but I don't care much for providing an explanation - a history.

I favor elbow room. My mind space requires a three-foot radius. Close quarters make me nauseous, but I feel completely comfortable riding in a subway car an hour a day each way.

Somehow, in a town of eight million people, New York makes me feel optimal. Lost in a sea of faces, I don't have to explain anything. I'm surrounded by strangers I feel friendly with.

A New Yorker is observant, not nosy.
A New Yorker is a friend when you need one disguised as a stranger.
A New Yorker is forthright to a fault, not rude.
A New Yorker requires room to move among the dreamers.

A New Yorker needs no explanation because New York is what you make of it.

I'm home.

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 11:37 PM | link | 2 comments |


12.01.2005

Bathroom Blather

Today marks the beginning of
HeartBeat's third month.








When I sat down to write this evening, I was staring at the blankest of slates. It may have had something to do with the fact that The Daily Show & The Colbert Report were so fabulously distracting. Luckily, I collected myself in my safe haven: the bathroom. It was truly a spiritual experience, and I decided I'd like to find a quote from a famous person born on my birthday to use as a springboard for my keyboard.

A brief cyber-search found me in tangent land, and I discovered a man full of brilliant prose who died on my birthday in 1939.

His name is Havelock Ellis, and these are the wonderful words he left behind:

"Every artist writes his own autobiography."

"Pain and death are a part of life. To reject them is to reject life itself."

"Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is no mere translation, or abstraction from life; it is life itself."

After reading these quotes, I decided to ditch the keyboard springboard and just go to bed. Good night.

photo by: LL
:: posted by chumpsrock, 10:13 PM | link | 0 comments |