It doesn't get much better

This is more my idea of romance (nothing personal Twilight fans). We don't need to make matters of the heart seem more dangerous by adding vampires into the mix. People are just as dangerous.

Feeling good was always good enough for me.

Wistful Mother Fuckers

Screw the top ten list, and while I greatly "appreciate" Marybeth's enthusiasm at lending me her copy of Twilight I appreciate David (who she previously lent it to) more for holding off for a beautiful 2 months before finally giving in to Marybeth's nagging and bringing it in for me last Sunday. Honestly, sitting in the break room while Marybeth and Jane hovered over me while I painfully read the preface made me feel like a ignorant, little snot. Jane tried to make me feel better by saying it got philosophical towards the end. To my surprise, it sort of did. I mean the characters all struggle with ethical dilemmas the whole novel through, more so towards the end. While Steph's word choice and sentence syntax leave something to be desired (let's blame the editors for that one) the way she let the plot unravel was indicative of an author who genuinely cared about her characters. Something I can always get behind.

She used "wistful" four more times in the novel. Each time I wanted to fling the book across the room. I did the math, that's a "wistful" every 100 pages pages or so (the novel being just under 500 pages). The symbolism was horrible, but most symbolism in mainstream novels so often is. With all the informational portals at our disposal people still don't like to look up the things they don't know. Honestly, how many of us would have looked to our history books when reading Orwell's Animal Farm to understand the political satire if our English teachers didn't make us? The "love scene," excuse me, that's being generous, the "sniffing scenes" between Edward and Bella made me want to vomit. I don't want to give anything away, but . . . no. I'll end here to be safe. All and all, it seems an over glorified romance novel, but a little romance never hurt anyone. Unless, apparently, you're in love with a vampire. Oh, poor Bella. What will she get herself in to next? I have no idea, and I'm not making any bets or deals with Patty at work that have reading New Moon as one of the conditions. Nope, nope, nope.

RIP Mask

Only the good die young. For more on his death, read here.

For a little more about his life, read here.

Worst Line of the Day from Twilight x 2

First let me just start off by saying I could open the book and on any page find a line worthy of this title.
Yesterday's winner: Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a girl with braces and a bad perm.

First off, I'm a poet of sorts and even I leave "wistful" to the oldies.
Second, fuck you. What's wrong with braces and a bad perm, Bella Swan? Sorry we can't all be as mysterious as you and your vampire boyfriend.

Today's pick: Jacob strolled to a nearby driftwood tree that had its roots sticking out like the attenuated legs of a huge, pale spider.
Are you shitting me?

Tomorrow before work I'll probably just make a list of my top ten because I'm nearly finished with the thing but . . . for sanity's sake, I have to take a break.

Oh, and I'm sooooo on team Edward. That shy, sweet Jacob doesn't fool me one bit.

The King Lives

And so should we.

Wish I Had a Hammock

NPR had it on their list of lesser-known love songs, though I've loved this song from first listen months and months, oh Lawd, almost a year ago. The Book of Love makes you want to swing in a hammock or rock in a rocking chair on the porch enjoying a sunny, lazy day. I enjoy hammocks, swings, and rocking chairs for the same reason I sleep well on boats. There is something so pleasant about finding the rhythm of a scene and being able to become a part of that rhythm. Ahhhh, harmony. Thank you Stephin Merrit of the Magnetic Fields . . . it is a very sweet rhythm to be a part of.

It isn't Philly, and we're no Stallone but . . .

running up similar steps in Boston last night with Kate felt just as good. We even hummed that stupid song. Three cheers for dear friends that not only go along with your silliness, but generally bring their own to the table.

Don't Talk

For Alison, Worst Line of the Day from Twilight

"I'm Isabella Swan," I informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes.

I hate her name. I don't want to talk about it any further. Fuck it, though, I still want a Twilight tee.

This song makes me feel better about everything.
Band: 31Knots
Album: Worried Well
Song: Compass Commands

It's always a good day to start a blog . . .

when the song of the day from NPR is a good old fashioned hate-duet. "45" by Holly Golightly (aside from fantastic folk singer, the name of one of my favorite fictional characters, thank-you Truman) will get your knees a-knocking and your head teetering side to side with the beat, and you'll wonder why the chorus, "When I call your name, you'd better run/You'd better hide my .45" is helplessly banging around in your skull like a stray bullet. I hate guns in the real world. But as tattoos, in stories and on the silver-screen, I have to admit to being in love with the Colt 45. The original Colt Single Action Army Handgun, yes the cute little 6-shooter, is the inspiration behind one of my lastest dream tats. It will, of course, be shooting out hearts. What else would I shoot?

From my heart to yours, Loves, dream hard and play fair. XOXO--- Cindy