I'm "It"

I've been "tagged" by Nikki at My Cyberhouse Rules ( which you can check out here: http://mycyberhouserules.com, so, do that.)


So that means I'm "It", just like the lovely Clara Bow. ( if you don't know what I mean, please educate yourself:http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/It_(1927_film)). Well, I always knew I was "It", so it's nice to finally get some damn validation. And I have a little Q&A to get to now, since I'm "It".   I thought it might be fun to make this a mostly visual thing, with the occasional sentence of explanation thrown in when a picture alone might not be enough. So, without further ado...




1. If you have pets, do you see them as merely animals, or are they members of your family? 

2. If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be? 

3. What is the one thing most hated by you? 

4. What would you do with a billion dollars? 

      




                                   or maybe...

5. What helps to pull you out of a bad mood?

6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?  


Hmm. Not sure either is so blessed. WIth love comes a lot of pain. But we do keep taking our chances, don't we...

7. What is your bedtime routine?


                                                                      First...

                                                                followed by....

                                                         
                                                            Then, of course....

                                                                  and...

                                                               and finally, 

              until I'm so exhausted I literally just collapse into bed. I know, I know, I'm boring. 










8. If you are currently in a relationship, how did you meet your partner? 


 N/A, since I'm not currently with anyone. But I plan to meet my next partner in the Crystal Palace at the Great Exhibition of 1851.  I'll be the one in the crinoline. 

9. If you could watch a creative person in the act of the creative process, who would it be?

10. What kinds of books do you read?

                                                         (That would be library books, kids )




11. Where do you see yourself in ten years time?


                                   Either

                                                                             Or......

12. What’s your fear? 

and...

                                                                        and...

     
                                                                and especially.....

13. Would you give up all junk food for the rest of your life for the opportunity to visit outer space? 

 
                           Judging by the photo evidence I've found, I won't have to. 

14. Would you rather be single and rich or married, but poor? 

15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up? 

16. If you could change one thing about your spouse/partner what would it be?


I could resort to black comedy right now, but I won't. I'll just say, "N/A"












17. If you could pick a new name for yourself, what would it be? 

                                 "Lady Fantastica Queen Elizabetta Montoya". Of course.            






                   




18. Would you forgive and forget no matter how horrible a thing that special someone has done?

19. If you could only eat one thing for the next 6 months, what would it be?  

                                                                           
                                                            That's easy.  Food. 






*Question #11 has been edited. It originally read, "How would you see yourself in ten years". And the answer to THAT would be: 

Now, in order to complete the tagging process...I can share the blog taggy-ness with four others, those I think may give it the old college try. And so I shall: I tag thee, I tag thee, I tag thee: 
Sunny from http://sunnysingstheblues.blogspot.com
and THEE, Rache, from http://redundantobsession.blogspot.com, so get your patoot in gear.
 I tag thee, as well, Barreness, at  http://www.thebarreness.com , because I am curious as hell to see your answers to some of these seemingly innocuous questions. 
And I tag THEE, Gillian, at http://owlsripple.blogspot.com, because I am so glad you have started writing on your blog again, and maybe you can have some fun with this. Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going to go speak like a Nantucket Quaker circa 1849 for the rest of the evening. Avast! Good day and good morrow to ye all! 

To All The Boys I've Loved Before

    
  I've loved you all. Friends and boyfriends, lovers and perfect strangers. I've loved you for a minute, or an hour, or days or months or years. I think of you occasionally or often, and I say your name fondly, unless I don't quite recall it, or never even knew it. But I've loved you, none the less. Each one of you has shone your light on the bright side of my life, and so, on this Valentine's Day, I want to thank you and tell you when I knew love was here to stay, at least for the blink of an eye.

         I knew I loved you that day in June when you casually rested your hand on my knee  on the drive out to Herring Cove beach. I knew I loved you when we were crossing 5th Avenue and you put your hand protectively at the small of my back, to usher me safely through traffic.  I knew I loved you the first time I heard you play your viola. I knew I loved you when you took my hand and led me through the dark woods, because the moon had been overrun by clouds and I couldn't see well enough to find my own way. I knew I loved you in first grade when you were the Professor and I was Ginger during our game of  "Gilligan's Island" at recess.  I knew I loved you when you were in the mood for Indian and I was in the mood for sushi, and....we went out for sushi. I knew I loved you that Harvard-Yale weekend when you did the propeller dance to "The Tide is High"  at that Lampoon party.  I knew I loved you when I found myself wondering how you'd ever get out of that carbonite.
        I knew it was true love when you pulled me back as we walked down by City Hall one night, because you saw a rat scamper across the sidewalk ahead of us. I knew I loved you when we were fifteen and you nervously grabbed my hand in the European Paintings section of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I knew I loved you when I saw you that day on the bus and you looked so much like a young Denzel Washington I had to do a double take. I knew I loved you when I saw you looked so handsome in your uniform. I knew I loved you when you shared your umbrella with me, all the way down to 41st Street, which was out of your way. I knew our love was meant to be the moment I heard Scully say, "Agent Mulder believes we are not alone". I knew I loved you in summer camp when you asked me to dance, despite my unfortunate attempt at curling my hair.
       I knew I loved you the second time you won the World Series. It was definitely love in San Francisco when you left the bar earlier than the rest of us, and when we got home we found you listening to Parliament while carpet-sweeping the rugs in your underwear. I knew I loved you when you took time out of your incredibly busy day to call me back and give me advice and information. I knew I loved you when you hung out the window to serenade the whole quad during what should have been a fire drill.  My heart sang out with love when you gave me a 3-D postcard of parrots in a home-made red and gold macaroni shell frame for my 20th birthday. I knew I loved you when we cut school and spent the whole day hanging out in Central Park. I knew I loved you when the towers fell and I was frantic because you weren't answering your phone and I didn't know where you were, and I knew again when I finally reached you.
        I knew I loved you the minute I first saw you, because you were the most beautiful boy I had ever seen, in all my eighteen long years. It was true love forever when I saw you playing with dry leaves in the yard, and my mother said, "We have to catch that kitten and bring him inside! He can't stay out there, it's going to get cold soon.". I knew it was love when I heard you say, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn". I loved you for sure when you got back out of the cab so you could kiss me one more time, in the middle of the night, in the middle of Flatbush  Avenue. I knew I loved you that time down in Georgetown when you draped your arm around me like you'd known me for years, even though we'd met just days before.
         I loved you most definitely when you offered me your seat on the subway the time I was wearing those really cute sling backs that were murder on my feet. I knew I loved you that snowy night in Old Montreal, with all the little white lights making the streets into a fairyland. I knew I loved you when we were crammed into the car with four other people but it felt like it was just the two of us. I knew I loved you when we would sit together in the back during those obligatory Classics receptions and break into the wine during the more boring lectures.  I knew it had to be love when you spent three hours trying to fix my car and somehow made it even worse. It was love when you rescued me from that boring, crowded party in TribeCa and gave me a ride home, in the limo! I loved you truly when you said you had to be home by midnight, but stayed 'til 4 because we were all having so much fun. I knew it was love when you gave me your brand new Beastie Boys CD, just because I said I wanted to listen to it. I knew I loved you when I watched you finally tie the knot with your boyfriend of so many years.  I knew I loved you when you told me you loved me. Thank you all for walking through my life, sometimes for a minute, sometimes forever, and making it that much more special.

    
 I do like Valentine's Day. So much strife in the world, it's nice to have at least one day devoted to love. I don't have a Valentine this year, and I didn't have one last year either. I don't want a Valentine right now, it's not the right time for me. But maybe some day I'll have one again, and I can buy him an unabashedly sentimental card and maybe a nice little gift, and he can send me flowers and take me out for a romantic meal. And the world will be pink and white and red and full of roses and sappy love songs and date movies for a day, and that will be just fine. I'll love that.

Hubba Hubba  

Video Spotlight: Mark Gormley, Rock Star

      Many people have never even heard of Mark Gormley. I don't remember exactly how I came across him, but I have a feeling it was a search for " weird music videos" on Youtube.  If I hadn't been diligent in my research, I would never have known he exists. But oh, he does. And he is going to ROCK. YOUR. WORLD.

      When you first see a Mark Gormley video, you may say to yourself, "Huh, I didn't know Ned Flanders was a real person". But then you'll have a closer look and think, "Oh, it couldn't be Ned Flanders, Ned has a better physique. And he's a cartoon..." And you'd be right, on both counts.  Mark Gormley may not have the fame of Ned Flanders, cartoon neighbor of Marge and Homer Simpson, but what he does have is THAT SPECIAL SOMETHING.  Yes. Behind those unfashionable glasses, behind that unassuming outfit, lurks the makings of a rock star. Come along, don't be shy. Press "play" and surrender to the inevitable...







      "Little Wings"  is my favorite Mark Gormley song. I will admit to humming it sometimes and not even realizing I am doing so. I can also do a pretty excellent  Gormley impression to this song, so, I like to work that.  In this video, you were introduced to the Mark Gormley stance. This is a very important part of what gives Mark THAT SPECIAL SOMETHING.  Note how he artfully shifts his weight constantly from one baggy-jeaned leg to the other.  His retro plaid shirt and sneakers are perhaps an homage to Kurt Cobain and the grunge movement. His voice is uniquely Gormley, but perhaps a touch of Neil Young's high plains whine sneaks in at times( yeah, I know, Neil was born in Toronto. Make it a high CANADIAN plains whine,ok?).  His whistle is masterful, comparable to the whistling in the Lovin' Spoonful's "What a Day for a Daydream". His double take at the end of this video is a classic Gormley moment that all his true fans can appreciate. In this song, the Maestro manages to span four decades of rock and distill it into his own song about redemption and reward at the end of a long day's work.  "Will you make the morning light, oh, little wings in flight?" We can only hope so.






    "Without You" was Mark's breakthrough video. It is a take no prisoners art rock festival, taking us along on Mr. Mark's Wild Ride through the stratosphere. He strides upon snowcapped mountains one moment and stands isolated in front of the Northern Lights the next. He shift his weight from side to side on Caribbean sands, gazes out over the Mojave desert, cavorts in haunted forests. One especially poignant split second scene shows the Laura Ingalls style log cabin love shack that was obviously the shared abode of Mark and his video love. Lusty Times on the  Prairie.  Note how he bravely marches on while ever looking to his right, hoping his lady love is there. But alas, she is not. She cavorts upon the beach, leaning on their favorite tree and walking up and down the same strip of sand while looking vaguely hung-over. Later we find that she is obviously working as an exotic dancer, flaunting herself in front of the beer-bellied patrons of a non-descript bar while wearing a shiny, Barbarella-esque bikini. Has she no shame?
    Poor Mark. They have shared so many memories all over the Earth, he cannot stand to tread upon its surface one minute longer. He intrepidly blasts into space on the next lunar launch outta here, and goes to live alone on our previously unknown secret lunar space station. Meanwhile, showing no remorse whatsoever, his lady love parades up and down the beach, hoping to attract the attentions of a local windsurfer.
      This is a powerful, emotionally wrenching song.  Mark's take-no-prisoners lyrics, "don't play around with my affection, woman", apparently delivered at the Medical Arts building after an intense session with his therapist, tell it like it is. Do not mess with the Gorminator. He WILL send you, or perhaps himself, to the moon!  Hasta la Vista, baby.
     In this song you can really hear how much Mark was influenced by his predecessors, like  Journey, Rush, and especially,  Yes. And is that a touch of Jethro Tull I hear when Mark takes it to the bridge? Oh, I think it is. Yet Mark takes the influences and turns out a song all his own, about his sadly shattered relationship with his video vixen, who is at last look seen smiling at the camera wearing her one-shouldered top.  Foul temptress! She cares not that Mark is suffering in space. She is only concerned with her tree and maybe that windsurfer we saw earlier. But Mark soldiers on, even though is spirit is now broken.
    





      This is a sadder, darker Mark, a Mark who has loved and lost, and loved again and lost again, and then maybe placed a personal ad and got not too many responses.   This is the Mark who does tequila shots with Jimmy Page and Robert Plant after a long, hard time on the road. I find this video is notable especially for the band-aid clearly visible on Mark's chest throughout. Why is it there? What has happened to him? Has he been bitten by an especially ornery mosquito, or snake, perhaps? Did he, in typical rock star mode, trash his hotel room and get hurt in the process? Was it a tuberculosis test gone horribly awry?   And will it hurt when he has to take it off, since it is obviously adhered to  his manly, hirsute chest? Hmm. Ponderous.

     Well, I hoped you enjoyed your introduction to the great Mark Gormley. You can view many more of his videos on Youtube. There is even one that apparently takes place after his blast-off into space towards the end of  "Without You". In it, you can see Mark cavorting on the moon, playing some sort of lunar hacky-golf or maybe moon hockey, I'm not sure. It also contains various scenes of his lady love eating Cheetos. I don't know whether this is product placement or whether that girl really likes her corn-based cheese flavored snack foods. If you are really hooked, you may be glad to hear that Mark has released a new CD. It includes all the original songs heard here, and plenty more.
     The thing is, I really have to give the guy props. I mean,  if he looked more like a male model and less like a cartoon character, some record producer may very well have snapped him up by now. His songs are not bad at all. His voice is not bad, either, if you like that whole power ballad shout out or acoustic semi-falsetto.  And he's a damn fine whistler.  Bob Dylan is no looker and his voice, to me, sounds a lot like fingernails on a black board. Tom Waits sounds like he's singing to you from the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. There's gotta be a niche somewhere for Mark Gormley. There are plenty of bands out there that out-right suck, yet people keep buying their music. There are hip hop artists who couldn't do a thing without Auto-Tune. And I am still perplexed as to the popularity of that little monkey-boy, Justin Bieber. That kid can't even shave yet and he has a movie out about his life? That's just stupid, America. ( HAH! Yes, I went for it!)
       I read on Wikipedia that Mr. Gormley was once a member of the United States Marine Corps. Who would have ever guessed?!  I cannot imagine Mark Gormley as a U.S. Marine, but  a Marine he most definitely was. So, you may not imagine Mark Gormley as a Rock Star, but a Rock Star he most definitely is.

Oh So Stylish!

  

So! I have been given a "Stylish Blogger Award", and I must shout loudly out to my fellow bloggista, Sunny, of "Sunny Sings the Blues" fame. Thank you, Sunny, for thinking of me. Her blog, which puts mine to shame,  can be found here: http://sunnysingstheblues.blogspot.com.

      This award comes with some rules attached, so I will now attempt to follow them. Rule 1:  I am to acknowledge the blogger who gave me this award, and duly thank them, (which I would have done without some rule telling me to do so) and list/link their blog and URL.  Done and done.
 Rule 2: I am to list seven things you may not know about me. OK, here I go:

                          Seven Things You May Not Know About Me    


And these are all completely random...

1.  I knew I wanted to be an archaeologist since 2nd grade, and so I did it. I became an archaeologist.  I lived the dream, as it were. This means I have a degree that enables me to scientifically dig a trench with a toothpick and tell a rock that was used to bang on another rock from one that was not.  I are scientist. Can you say, "OCD"? Can you say, "over-educated, underpaid"? Can you say, "career change"? Yeah, well. I sometimes wish I had gone with my other great passion...which leads me to:

2. I love silent films. I love movies in general, really truly LOVE them,  but I think silent films are almost a separate art form. They are the perfect combination of motion picure and visual arts. You can experience the whole story without words, and it can be just as compelling ( or stupid or funny or thrilling, etc) as any modern film.  If I hadn't gone into archaeology, I would have gone to film school. I wonder,  if I had, would I be sitting in my fabulous house in the Hollywood Hills right now and wishing I had become an archaeologist? There is always a road not taken.

3. I love silent film, sure, but I REALLY love cult movies, and bad movies. And cheesy funny movies. Oh, how I loves me some John Waters and his Trash masterpieces. I can practically recite each one, from "Desperate Living" to "Pecker". No teabagging, please.  And  I delight in every soul sistah  outfit worn by Pam Grier in films like "Foxy Brown" and "Friday Foster". "Blades of Glory" gets my vote, and so do "Napoleon Dynamite", "Harold and Maude", "Plan 9 From Outer Space", "The Warriors", "Showgirls", "The Big Lebowski", "Cobra Woman", and of course, "This is Spinal Tap". This blog goes to eleven. But don't try to force me to watch a Bergman film, or any of the "serious" Woody Allen movies, or I will go all sorts of Kill Bill on yo' ass.

4. I was once detained and questioned by the FBI. Yes, really. It was in Chicago, and I was all of 23 years old. Oh, you wanna know why? Well, keep reading my blog, maybe I'll write about it. Mayyyybeeeeee......It was a little scary at the time, but now it's just a really great story to tell Alex Trebek when I finally get on Jeopardy. Which leads me to...

5. I have passed the Jeopardy test every time I've taken it, which is thrice. Twice they even took my photo and asked me to write down some interesting anecdotes for Alex to discuss with me during the time he chats with the contestants. I figure, my FBI story beats the crap out of some of those nerds' tales of forgetting to put the yeast in their pizza dough during a town cook off,  or wearing the same plaid jumper as Janet Reno that time they ran into her at Comic Con. Well, I'm still here, Mr. Trebek, and I'm still waiting. I'll take "The people at Jeopardy are big fat liars" for 600.

6. In college I lived in a haunted house.  I don't care whether you believe me or not. I lived there, and trust me, it was haunted. Things literally went "bump" in the night. Heels clicked on carpeted stairs, shadows floated down halls, the whole deal. We ( myself and two friends) lived in a beautiful brownstone that had been built in 1865. The place had a rich history, including being used as a flop house/gambling den during the Jazz Age before it was restored and turned into two lovely duplex apartments.  At first the strange goings-on freaked us out, but then we just accepted it and got used to it. In my room I would sometimes feel a playful tug on my hair, or a book on my desk would suddenly riffle its own pages. The stereo tuner would change on its own, and I would just say out loud, "Come on, I was listening to that!" and it would go back to where it had been.
      We once had two Japanese students stay with us as guests. I don't know what exactly happened, but early one morning one of them woke up screaming and would not stay another night in the house. Once we were cat-sitting for a friend and the cat would not stop staring and growling at the third floor staircase and landing the entire weekend it was there. That is the staircase ( carpeted) where the click of ascending heels on a wooden floor was sometimes heard in the middle of the night.  Faucets and lights would go on by themselves, personal belongings would be found someplace other than where we left them. Ah, fun times. When we moved out, I think all of us were sort of sad to say goodbye to our "other" roommates. Like I said, I don't care if you believe me or not. I don't think I would have believed it if I hadn't lived there and experienced it year after year. Well, when all was said and done, it was a great apartment and we had great times there. The rent was right, too. I wonder if the landlords weren't telling us something...

7. A little over a year ago, someone I love very much took his own life. I have written and  then deleted that sentence at least two dozen times from this very post, which is why I am going to leave it here now. Because his death left a huge hole in my life, and in the lives of all his friends and family, and I can't even seem to commit to writing down the words, "he took his own life". I think I need to be able to write it down, at least. It's a step closer to actually accepting it, though I have to wonder if I will ever truly accept it. It still seems like something that happens in the movies, or, you know,  "to other people".
      I started this blog at what was shaping up to be a very bleak time for me. It was just after his birthday and before the  first anniversary of his death. I needed something else to focus on, and writing this blog, my stupid little blog  that nobody really reads ( present company excluded), gave me that.  Because no one calls me a zillion times a week or sends me questionable picture messages any more. And no one imitates my mother and makes her sound sort of like Queen Elizabeth crossed with Paris Hilton. And no one says the most ridiculous things just to make me laugh. And I miss all that, terribly. I miss him every day, some days even more than others. And I'll always miss him. His death has become a big part of who and how I am right now, even though I don't like to talk about it. But I think about it all the time. So that's why I'm mentioning it here. Like I said, it's one more step on a long, long walk.

Well, that last one wasn't much fun, now, was it. But it's something you may not have known about me, and...now you know.

The third rule of accepting this stylish award is to share it with other bloggers who are starting out.  Fifteen, to be exact. Hmm. I don't actually know fifteen bloggers who are starting out.  I do know a few, though, and so I will bestow this award upon those I do know, or know of, anyway.  I wish them luck. It's a  bit daunting, when you see how many blogs are out there, and how many of them are really very good.  Hard not to feel swallowed up in the cyber void. All the best to them:

http://redundantobsession.blogspot.com , who found MY blog first. I  like her blog, and she is just starting out, so go on, give her a visit, let her see her page view count rise on up. Testify!!

http://joygrad.wordpress.com , who truly is a STYLISH blogger. One of the most personally stylish people you will ever meet, to be honest. And a friend of mine, I'm very happy to say.

http://femalebookreader.blogspot.com , whose blog I just came across on the site, "She Writes". And so she does. I loves me a good discussion about books.

http://salmonshavefeelings.blogspot.com , who is also just starting out. I took a look at her blog just yesterday. She lives in Salem but she doesn't say which one, ( there are plenty) so I'm guessing it's Salem, MA, a wonderful town. AND...I know her blog address would read, "salmons HAVE feelings", but I choose to read it as, "salmon shave feelings". Don't ask me why. No, really. Don't.

http://twilightgazings.blogspot.com, who is on the always fun blogger site, Studio 30+, and who is Australian. And I'm not, so, HEY!

http://www.mollieisokinuk.blogspot.com , who is also a Studio 30+ member, and whose blog is truly pimped OUT. You can say "stylish", but I'll go with "stylin' ", thankya very much.

OK. That's that. Party on, Garth. Party on, indeed.