Tuesday, May 30, 2006

you stole my heart and that's what really hurts

Many things happening today:

1) I "finished" the newest video. I just need to tweak it a li'l bit and then we'll be all set to rock 'n' roll.

2) The Hunter and I are going to do a reading at Powell's at some point in the near/distant future. wee-ha.

3) I reconciled with an old friend whom I wronged almost 17 months ago. Sometimes saying "sorry" feels really very good.

4) I just discovered that many months ago that I had made the most wonderful mix and buried it on my computer. Currently, I am listening to "Maggie May" as sung by Rod Stewart before he was terrifically lame.

5) I'm a full blown smoker again. Ahh, yes, many many years ago, when I was a misguided youth I used to sneak smokes behind this shed/that shed. It wasn't uncommon for me to climb out of my bedroom window or, heck, walk out the back door and go for a late night stroll. Cigarette in hand. It was my dirty little secret. Made like I was lady non-smoker to all my friends. And then, all through college and the following years smoked maybe the total of a pack of cigarettes, maybe. But now, well, you know, I really like cigarettes.

Totally unrelated, or maybe completely related, some months ago I started work on a story ("Cigarettes Will Kill You" is the title) about a girl smoking cigarettes. I like this story very much so I will share a paragraph with you:

She likes a gentle cigarette. Something clean. So she can concentrate on what’s actually happening to her. Concentrate on the death of her lungs. On the pollution of the cells, the flesh that is dying from the inside out. The loss of bone density. The hardening arteries. The strangulation of her heart. Because she is old enough to know better, she focuses her attention on the effects of the poison that she so enthusiastically seeks out. She carefully considers the smoke that burns her eyes. A nice burn that makes her remember why she started to breathe like this in the first place. She watches the ash of her cigarette extend. Stay red and cling to the body of the stem, barely pinched between her index and middle finger. She gets a little dizzy. Her throat gets a little raw.

This is a post-it note on my wall, it reads "old enough to know better"

And also, here is a link to a wonderful essay by Jeremy Huggins. (This will open a pdf file. It is worth your time to open it.)

new radio dept.


Elisson said...

"Currently, I am listening to "Maggie May" as sung by Rod Stewart before he was terrifically lame."

Which explains the post title, of course. And, yes, Rod Stewart is now Officially a Lame-Ass Lounge Lizard. Feh.

jeremy said...

Thanks so much for the kind words.