Sad day...

It’s a pity to me that kind words are only truly shared on a tragic occasion like a funeral. We should practice more the art of making our friends and loved ones feel loved; letting them know the special places they hold in our hearts and minds.

A dear friend of mine lost her husband far too early in life, at the age of 36; their children, lost their father. She has physically been there for me in the past through dark times and when physicality was not available, she provided her ear. She loves nothing more than to torture me by forcing human emotional interactions with hugs and to watch me squirm by telling me ‘I love you’; knowing full well that I am not good with exposing feelings. Today at her husband’s funeral, I freely offered up those words in return. I hope she knows that she’s got me in her corner for anything she needs.

One of my favorite poems came to mind during the service today, as it was spoken about how long her and her husband were involved in each other’s lives…since 7th grade.

Annabelle Lee
Edgar Allen Poe

"It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea. "

It's the end of my car as I know it...and I feel fine

So my general bitching about my car on here is not to warrant the “oh, poor Mel” boo hoo pity party, or a “save my ass” fundraiser, as the ex suggested; but more along the lines of: sparing my friends from yet another needless rambling bitchfest about the woes of being a paycheck to paycheck human like most Americans now of days and the unfortunate event of your 02 Mazda wagon deciding to shit all over itself at once…

So the Friday of said incident begins like this: just finished swimming at the gym and emerge from the parking structure to cold rain-in fucking June; and oh did I mention 7 inches of snow at the local tip-IN JUNE?!- Anywho…the oil light pops on, and before any of you fuckers say “why’d you drive it with no oil?!” fuck you. I am not a car retard female with no concept of a seized up motor…mmm-kay? This particular oil light wouldn’t have mattered if I drove straight to the store to put some in-for I got one mere block from the gym before my car decided to shut itself off in mid flight. After coasting into a construction sight I tried to start it. The starter turns, but the motor doesn’t crank; and to add another pleasantry…my car is dumping all of its oil.

So fast forward to Tuesday this week; as my car made it to a shop at closing on Friday and sat until then…I learn that yes, my car decided to in fact have a nervous breakdown and go into a temper tantrum. The conversation goes like this:
Shop: your car had no oil in the motor
Me: I understand that, because as I had mentioned, it dumped it all in the lot where it died
S: here’s the run down
Me: I’ve got the lube and I’m ready, bring on the hurt
S: oil leaked out of a bad seal on the filter; we replaced the oil and there was no compression. We checked the valves, they’re fine; we checked the timing, the belt was lose and jumped 6 teeth. We fixed the belt and put on a new tensioner. However, we’re not getting any spark to the plugs so we have to run an electrical diagnostic. Basically you’re extremely lucky, normally I’d be making the ‘you need a new motor’ call here with these conditions, but not you.
Me: sweet merciful weirdoes wearing their grannies panties and rubbing themselves in peanut butter and Nutella for small favors (relaxes butt cheeks)
Shop: Your car needs a new computer, its dead
Me: beg pardon? It’s a 02 and a Mazda for that matter, shouldn't these things last forever?
Shop: it happens…$1046 for the new computer and install
Me: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?! I HAD A 17YR MUSTANG whose COMPUTER NEVER SHIT ON ME?!

I remember when I got my sweet little wagon…(cue harps and fuzzy fluffy edges around my memory) I had an 89 5.0, highly supped up; it was my baby, it hauled ass, took corners, made itself known for miles, rocked a sweet system and basically ate shitty rice rockets in So Cal for breakfast. Alas, with all that power and torque, came the wonderful 8-12mpg stat. So enter my wagon…a cute little mom mobile that I could toss all my gear into and still have plenty of room for my friends. With good gas mileage, AC, reliability and most of all, no modifications. (Other than me lowering it, rims and a DVD/Monitor system) I kept the stang and my wagon became my daily driver; and I didn’t even mind so much that it was a 4cylinder when the thing got me home from Vegas in 2.5hours.

Yep, she’s been good to me, and the end is in sight on my payments and I’ll probably keep her when paid off…but I’m realizing, I miss the simplicity of an old car. No computer, no fancy doo-dads, easy electrical, carburetors and when they break they're not requiring of a expensive mechanic's bill

(hit and run victim; story for another day)

Damn you Staley

It's Pledge drive time on good ol KEXP! So I turn to other avenues of music fulfilment...My Pandora radio station just played 'Nutshell' and now I must go on a tangent!

Nutshell (Alice in Chains)

"We chase misprinted lies

We face the path of time

And yet I fight

And yet I fight
This battle all alone

No one to cry to

No place to call home

Oooh...oooh...

Oooh...oooh...

My gift of self is raped

My privacy is raked

And yet I find

And yet I find

Repeating in my head

If I cant be my own

Id feel better dead

Oooh...oooh...

Oooh...oooh..."

Wake Up (Mad Season)

"Wake up young man, it's time to wake up

Your love affair has got to go

For 10 long years, for 10 long years

The leaves to rake up

Slow suicide's no way to go, oh

Blue, clouded grey

You're not a crack up

Dizzy and weakened by the haze

Moving onward

So an infection not a phase

Yeah, oh

The cracks and lines from where you gave up

They make an easy man to read, oh

For all the times you let them bleed you

For little peace from

God you plead, and beg

For little peace from

God you plead Ahhaahh, Yeah, Ahhaahh, Yeah, Ahhaahh, Yeah

Wake up young man, wake up, wake up

Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up Oh, yeah

Wake up young man, it's time to wake up

Your love affair has got to go, yeah

For 10 long years, for 10 long years,

The leaves to rake up

Slow suicide's no way to go, oh

Slow suicide's no way to go

Wake up, wake up, wake up

Wake up, wake up, wake up"

Very few deaths of musicians leaves me melancholy.

John Lennon was one; although I was too young to remember his murder in Dec 1980, I do remember the first anniversary of it; and having grown up in a house of Beatles, I still mourn the loss of a great artist.

Having been unfortunately too close in my life situations to view and live amongst addiction to heavy drugs; I've seen the unfortunate side affects to one self and those that surrounded. Even with that fact, I CANNOT understand how anyone can let themselves continue on with a losing battle, without help, when they can acknowledge their problem; yet let it consume them till death. I understand depression and addiction can be a debilitating problem, but suicide is the easy way out. When Layne Staley died, I was literally pissed. He was robbing not only everyone, but mostly my selfish ass, of his distinctive voice and home hitting lyrics.

Alice in Chains' Jar of Flies was one of earliest CD's purchased (Pearl Jam's Ten, was the first). I may not have been a crazy huge fan learning every tidbit about them, but I could fully appreciate the scale of their talents and the strong core shaking music they produced. I found them vastly better on all fronts than Nirvana (spare your knife slinging to my head Cobain fans, he too left an amazing short libbed mark on the world). Jerry Cantrell is also an incredible musician, but without Staley he's kinda a peanut butter sammy without the perfectly matched jelly.

le sigh