Occasionally I read what I've written and I want to throw up on my shoes. And when something is really puke-inducing AND includes typos at the crescendo and I leave them there, I want to hit myself in the face with a metal object until I die. And then I want to take it away. So I do. I'm strange right now. So strange. (Incidentally, I've typed "strange" with an "ai" THRICE, now, because I just did it again in this parenthetical comment. Strain=Freudian?)
Natalie Maines drove to work with me this morning, and when she said that "There's a thin line, baby, between wrong and right, between black and white," I totally agreed with her, because she's right. Then she sat herself back in my passenger seat, took another drag on her American Spirit, and said, "Besides, it's much more empowering to be pissed off than it is to be all fuckin' crazy and shit."
Hey, she said it.
"Did I give you one of my George W. Bush countdown keychains?" she said. "I mean, you can totally have extras. And by the way, you're probably going to still feel like shit today, but eventually you're going to be okay because that's the way it works for - you know - chicks like you and me." And then she was gone.
Alice put it very well today, also, about her own recent emotional post:
"First of all, I apologize for writing a post like that, which captured my feelings at that exact moment, feelings which changed fifteen minutes later and why don’t I wait an hour or so before posting something? It’s lovely, the way I puke all over the Internet, and all you nice people come rushing to clean me up."
She's exaggerating, because hers was just really an expression of a feeling - not at all irrational or unwarranted, and nothing I would consider "puking". I don't really want to do that, anymore or often. The truth is that there are experiences and feelings that are better placed in a bathtub, with a magazine and a glass of, er, something soothing. ; ) It's just that I find some kind of solace behind the keyboard that I don't really find much of anywhere right now. I used to be a person who bludgeoned people verbally with my "problems." I complained and whined and bitched, and there are probaby some people who would say, "used to?" to that, and totally mean it, and they can really all just go to hell, I say while smiling sweetly. But the things that I...give SOMETIMES INFLAMMATORY COMMENTARY on now, are usually much less personal. The more I've experienced things over the years that upset me and changed me in some fundamental ways, the more choosy I became about how and where and with whom I discussed them. Because you learn over time that unless you're doing it with some distinct purpose in mind, it doesn't really help.
I haven't had a significant significant other for a while, and I kind of fumble around on the outskirts of a variety of wonderful friends, and a workplace that is mostly supportive. But I do spend lots of time on my own, which is actually perfectly fine the vast majority of the time. It was out of this solitude that most of my online life was born, and probably this site, too. But the deal is now that when things go sideways like they have lately, I maybe come here first when I shouldn't. I don't know. I don't even really e-mail that much anymore. It's weird.
The Natalie Maines thing is really kind of true, also, because one thing I do find connection and solace in is music, still. And although yesterday was a throwback "Swamp Ophelia" Day, most days have been Dixie Chicks (or, you know, Audioslave) days lately. Her voice is so big and strong and warm, and I listen to their new cd every morning on my way to work lately. It's one of those records that came along at a perfect time in my life, which doesn't happen very often anymore either. I consume a lot of music, as in, I listen to new bands and new cds by old favorites, and I have enough friends who are into music that we share a lot of it amongst ourselves. But rarely am I excessively moved by a record, or do I enjoy it so much that I talk about it alot, or that I want to hear it all the time. I do feel that way about the new Dixie Chicks album. The songs feel very personal to me, even though I know they're both very specific to the ladies and could be construed as universal to many situations and people. That's really a sign of a truly meaningful work of...music, actually....or a story, or a poem or an article or a photo. If it doesn't matter if you've really understood what something was supposed to apply to, but you can coopt a piece of it for yourself - to motivate you, or to soothe your soul, or to make you laugh, or pick up the phone and call someone you haven't spoken to in a while (which I am dreadful at doing. It's become pathological.) and say, "Hey, I really think you would like this," or "Hey, remember that time?..." - that's pretty great.
I've been listening since I got it and that's not so revolutionary, considering that I've been a fan since "Wide Open Spaces" and indeed own not only a "Free Natalie" t-shirt but also an "Earl's in the trunk" bumper sticker (AND know all the words to Joe Diffie's "John Deere Green" and that crazy tune "Watermelon Crawl, so could be accused of being down with the coun-TRAY at one point.) Still, this album is a little different. I loved watching them take more charge of their songs, with some incredible help, of course, from Dan Wilson of Semisonic, no less and some others (even my boyfriend Pete Yorn.) I liked hearing them speak their minds about the shaft they got for the criticism of GWB, although my most conservative uncle was heard to say recently, "That idiot needs to go," at which point I passed out from shock. I wrote a paper about the group and the mixing of politics and their music for my English class this summer, the first class I've EVER received an A+ in in college, much less the University of Maryland. An A+. I giggled like a little girl for a whole day. So yeah, I'm a fan.
So I don't really know what all that is to say, except that "Thin Line" is a great song. And I'm glad sometimes for the voices in my head that don't mean I'm crazy - they just actually help me get it together just a little bit, especially when they take the form of famous not-specifically country music stars who dare to speak their minds.
Thin Line
Some days rock and some days roll
And some seem to last forever
Some days it's all you want
And some days it's never never
Won't you tell me why
Things couldn't be a little easier
Some days everything is cool
And some days I can't get it together
'Cause there's a thin line, yeah,
Between wrong and right, between black and white
It's been a long time, yeah,
Since I could close my eyes and see the light
And there's some sunshine, baby,
Shining down on me and it's all I need
To see the thin line, between me and you and you and me
How do things get so messed up
And seem so out of control
It's time to wake up, make our minds up
Time to get out of this hole
Won't you tell me why
It's as easy as you let it be
It's so hard to see the other side
When you won't let go of what you think you know
Cause there's a thin line, yeah,
Between wrong and right, between black and white
It's been a long time, yeah,
Since I could close my eyes and see the light
And there's some sunshine, baby,
Shining down on me and it's all I need to see
The thin line between me and you and you and me
Don't look so sad
Let's see if we can find
A way to make things right between us
And while we can't change each other's minds
We'll pick each other up again every time
And there's a thin line, yeah,
Between wrong and right, between black and white
It's been a long time, yeah,
Since I could close my eyes and see the light
There's some sunshine, baby,
Shining down on me and it's all I need
To see the thin line between me and you and you and me
'Cause it's a thin line, yeah,
Between wrong and right, between black and white
It's been a long time, yeah,
Since I could close my eyes and see the light
There's some sunshine, baby,
Shining down on me and it's all I need
To see the thin line between me and you and you and me
Because it's a mighty thin line
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