I've been going back and forth all day, trying to decide if I was going to make this a happy entry or a not-happy entry. I have many happy things to write about. There's a holiday coming up, and therefore I'm going to see my family in less than 48 hours. That makes me very, very happy. At this moment, my cat is sitting indignantly in the middle of my suitcase, which brings a smile to my face. I saw Harry Potter 48 hours ago, and it was so magical to me, I still can't find words to explain it to people who haven't seen it, nor even to people who have.
But for whatever reason, the melancholy has won the day, and although there is optimism at the core, I still feel I should apologize for boo-hooing all over the Monday of your holiday week.
it's catching up on you
when your race is run
your faint-hearted faith follows through
always, always, always
That's Cousteau, who I had not heard nor heard of until Saturday, when I went to Barnes & Noble in search of books about my new artsy-craftsy hobby, which is going to remain a secret until I decrease the gift deficit that currently exists between me and my girls. (Also, I'm probably going to be making everyone else's Christmas gift this way too, so I don't want to ruin it. I'm kind of proud of myself for discovering this particular hobby, because I don't yet know of anyone else who does it.) (Well, obviously, many other people do it, because there are books about it, but I don't know of anyone personally, so I'm excited about finding something a little different.)
Anyway. For some reason, at this B&N, I always end up parking next to the door that enters you into the music section. So I meandered by the wall with all the featured music and pulled on the headphones to listen to what's there. I spied this CD, the last one on the list, probably attracted by the smoky black and white cover and the lead singer clutching a 1940's-style microphone and words like "smouldering" and "lush late-night melodrama" in the blurb. I punched it up and heard this song, the first one on the disc.
(And yes, I did steal the idea of uploading the actual song from Jessamyn, who did it in this entry, with a simple, beautiful song that is about as polar an opposite from mine as you can get.)
roll by the lonely parade and it's gone
what a delight
to unravel the fabric of love
it's the way, it's a crime,
it's all the same
but it's not your time
no it's not your time
I was sort of bawling by the time it was over. This isn't a huge deal, though, because I have been crying for about three days. I tried to play Christmas music in the car on Friday, but it kept making me cry, because all I could think about were the holiday dinners and Christmas mornings that will be happening in this country where people will be missing, and it didn't seem appropriate for me to be enjoying my holiday music. I sat in the parking garage at work waiting for Mannheim Steamroller's Silent Night to be over, sobbing for everyone sleeping in heavenly peace because they went to work or got on a plane on the wrong stupid Tuesday morning.
Then I went to Harry Potter that night and it was so beautiful and pure and my heart just exploded every single time that boy's face was on the screen, so I cried through the whole movie, but in a good way.
All that by way of saying it wasn't so surprising that I welled up over this song this weekend because I've been welling up at everything. I'm blaming hormones, if only so insanity doesn't have to be an option.
scatter your pearls with the hungry remains
lipstick and trust
and hope rides another day
hope rides another day
The lead singer's voice is absolute velvet, the epitome of a crooner, and this is a torch song if ever there was one. And, you know, I can kind of identify with it. Sort of. Just a little.
In both a conscious and unconscious way, I've spent this year trying to figure out how to live my life the fullest way I can, instead of letting it live me, which is sort of what's been going on so far. So far, it's been all about tomorrow, about the possibility of tomorrow being different and better, instead of making today different and better.
I will be 30 in one month and one day. It's not exactly a secret that I've been having a bit of a crisis about this. Most of its effects have been positive, though, and I'm not too dense to see that. I weigh less now than I have in at least five years. I'm in the planning stages of a move that will (hopefully) jump-start my career, as well as (definitely) get me closer to my dearest friends and my beloved family.
I've done what I can with the things that are in my power to change. But there are still some things that I can't do alone, that I can't have complete control over, because they involve another person, thinking and acting independently of me.
it's a crime all the same
but it's not your time
no it's not your time
it's not your time
Here's to lipstick and trust and hope riding another day. Have a good Thanksgiving, everyone, and I'll bring the cheer in when I get back, I promise.