Not Really Random

Very rarely are the song lyrics I quote truly random. Usually they are stuck in my head because something about the words apply to how I'm feeling at that moment. So, I lie, say they are random and hope that people are gullible enough to believe me. Today, though, is honesty. If I were a songwriter, I'd like to think I would've written this song. I try to live my life with the conscious decision to never take anything for granted but I am only human and I'm sure that sometimes I fail at my quest. Anyway, even though I didn't write this song, it is talking to me today.

one part of me just wants to tell you everything

one part of me needs the quiet

and if I'm lonely here, I'm lonely here

and on the telephone

you offer reassurance

I will not take these things for granted

how can I hold the part of me that only you can carry

it needs a strength I haven't found

but if it's frightening, I'll bear the cold

and on the telephone

you offer warm asylum

I'm listening

flowers in the garden

laughter in the hall

children in the park

I will not take these things for granted anymore

to crawl inside the wire and feel something near me

to feel this accepting

that it is lonely here, but not alone

and on the telephone

you offer visions dancing

I'm listening

music in the bedroom

laughter in the hall

dive into the ocean

singing by the fire

running through the forest

and standing in the wind

in rolling canyons

I will not take these things for granted

I will not take these things for granted - Toad the Wet Sprocket

More Secrets Of The MML

Tonight I was thinking about television and my mild love affair with it. I'm not crazy addicted like some people but there are shows I like and shows I want to watch every week (Hello? Hugh Laurie? Duh). With summer quickly approaching and only one finale to go (Lost), I realized that I have to find a way to fill my evenings with some mindless brain mushing activity. This usually means I get hooked on a television show that I didn't actually watch when it was originally aired. Thanks to Netflix, I get my fix and everything's good. Right now, it's Heroes. 6 episodes in and I'm crushing on it.

Anyway, my point. Because there is one. Really. I was thinking about television and the need to have a new summer show which got me thinking about my crazy psychological need to always have some sort of obsession. I realize that this probably isn't a surprise to those of you that know me. Heck, it's probably not even a surprise to those of you that don't. But, it's gotten me incredibly frustrated lately. Why do I always need to be obsessed with something? Insane cravings for whatever the need of the day/week/month is until I burn out, barely bothering to think about it again. What is my problem? And how do I fix it? Because, honestly, it's killing me.

Now, secret number two because my brain often segues in illogical ways: As I was thinking about the obsessions and my current obsession to rid myself of them, I happened to glance in the mirror. Again, not a secret to those who know me but, it's true, I'm going gray. This is not shocking. I've had random silver hairs on my head since I was 9 and my first true tiny streak of gray at the ripe old age of 21. It's my genetic calling...both my parents and both my grandmothers went prematurely gray. (Though how my brother has escaped this, I'm not sure. Geez, he gets all the good stuff!) So, I was dying my hair because that's what 32 year old, graying women do. It's the only socially acceptable option. But the truth is, I hate dying my hair. And, the bigger secret is that I'm sort of fascinated by the amount of gray that is popping up. Is that weird? To want to let the dye grow out to see how gray my hair really is? Yes, it's killing my mom and I think J would rather I cover it up. But aren't you curious? Besides, I'm thinking I could tell people I'm 45 and they'd think I look good for my age. And, really, who doesn't want that?

Almost Summer and I'm Not Sure I'm Ready But The Preview Is Pretty Nice

The kids are due back tomorrow afternoon so you'd think I'd be living it up but, alas, it seems that I'd rather spend my last night alone the same way I spent many summer evenings last year:

Sitting outside, smelling honeysuckle, listening to bullfrogs croaking, cows mooing, random conversations from people who don't realize how well their voices carry at night, and dogs barking. There are no cars driving by and the night is very dark. It's perfect for star gazing and firefly watching. I even got nervous about my old alien nemesis after I heard him lurking across the yard. It's warm and I've had a shooter made entirely of vodka and razzmatazz, the music is loud and I can sing at the top of my lungs without fear of waking anyone. It's my last evening in my long weekend of freedom and I have to admit...it's a little lonely. But, believe it or not, sometimes lonely is a good thing.