How many people do you think forget that there are real people out there defending Freedom? My guess: Too many. But you, my friends, I know you remember.
It’s been a rough past week. Thank God for Mr. Lovett.
Gaze travels outward
To the singing emptiness*
Heart filling with joy
* From The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith
Isn’t “the singing emptiness” a lovely phrase? Sometimes as I read, I’m struck by beautiful passages and try to use those words as inspiration for poems, song lyrics, or even as prompts for short stories. I often wonder if many authors realize just how much they stoke the creative embers in others. Two of my favorite authors these days are the aforementioned McCall Smith and Walter Mosley. Michael Connelly isn’t far behind. His work just tends to draw me inward in other ways — at the moment. But McCall Smith and Mosley…their writing…McCall Smith paints brightly colored and occasionally wistful images in my head, whereas Mosley’s words often conjure up rich, inky notes that sometimes float around and sometimes jab at my brain. Interesting how two very disparate styles can stir up such emotion and desire within me, causing me to break out pen and paper and start writing. Perhaps one day I’ll share the song that came from a Mosley turn of phrase. Perhaps.
As for their books, I’m slowly amassing a collection of their works. I tried going the public library route, but they really frown on you dog-earring and highlighting the way I prefer. Only way to get around that is to buy the books. Thank goodness for eBay and used book stores!
Now, my next move is to take the bits that have inspired words and turn them into images. Doesn’t that sound like a fun project?
Spider monkey on crack, indeed. They know what I’m talkin’ about.
Scott Holt Band (who I just saw last week) playing “Civil War”. This band rocks!
All the photos I’ve taken at one particular venue may now be part of a presentation within that venue. I’ll know for sure next week when I talk to the guy putting the video together.
I’ve vacuumed in here twice since I started dog sitting. And tonight…tonight…tonight, it looks like a snowman was murdered here.
Someone disemboweled a stuffed animal. There is now bits of fluff all over the place.
I shall be vacuuming again in the morning. My friends will be back from their trip, which was NOT to Europe as I thought, but that matters not. It matters to me that I can watch them walk into the house and see it not destroyed by crack monkeys.
On a happier note, I had dinner with Mojo tonight, got her set up with Skype, and we played on our laptops together, just enjoying being in the same room. Things have been changing very quickly in her world lately. She’s been emancipated. Moved out of my sister’s house. Is working a second job. And mostly, she’s just trying to figure out what she’s going to do with herself. She has a lot to deal with and while we did talk about the situation she’s in, this was mostly an evening for us to just be together and for her to relax. Which she did. I love my girl. I get what’s going on in her head. And for now, I’m just giving her a chance to talk it out, cry it out, yell it out as much as she needs to. Later, we can tackle the big stuff. Until that time, she gets a shoulder, an ear, my heart, and a hug.
If things have been light and superficial around here a bit too much for a bit too long, let’s just say there’s been plenty of reasons behind that. Yes, travel/photography work. Yes, not feeling well. But more than that, there have been family things and court stuff and just way too much of everything weighing on my head and heart. This moment with Mo and the time with LD…it means everything to me for a million different reasons.
Love y’all. Thanks for sticking around. Thanks for knowing I’ll catch up soon enough.
Some day I shall rattle on and on about how much I love Cheap Trick and why I think they are THE band. I will. Until that time, here’s a rare one from the band:
By the way, I do feel like a loser since I won’t be seeing CT at the Belly Up in April. Just couldn’t manage that trip out or the $80 ticket for the show. Oh well. I’ll catch them somewhere down the line.
Forget that Ferguson’s a Scot, he’s playin’ with the Wicked Tinkers, dammit.
And now for some Tartanic.
And finally, an Irish drinking song as only Drew Carey and friends could manage.
Two favorites: Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and John Denver. Really, does it get any better?
A lot of sitting and waiting. A lot of talk from the attorney about how evil the governor is. A lot of walking back and forth. A lot of hot air. A lot of nothing.
Except that we did get to the settlement and we did get the stipulation for future medical (meaning I can walk into occupational medicine here and they have to see me…I have a piece of paper stating thus). My total rating (neck and lower back disability) was a whopping 51%, reduced to 46 or 47 (it would have been 41, but my attorney nudged the other into a higher number). That’s not bad considering what most people end up with. And the final amount of the settlement still equals about what I would have made in that first year I was at my last job. There’s no award for pain and suffering or lost income, lost career. Nope, all you’re awarded is based upon your total percentage of disability and the year you were injured. That’s it.
Forget that I would have had a raise coming soon and that I’d had the best review in my life. Forget that there’s nothing left for me to do as a nurse. Forget that it’s all gone. I have to. I HAVE to. If I don’t, I’ll go crazy. None of it matters.
What does matter is that I have a piece of paper requiring that a doctor treat me, that medication be provided, that money will still come my way, that my attorney will be paid, and this particularly nasty bit of legal business is officially concluded. The insurance company has been ordered to do right by me. I won’t be without treatment. I’ll always have to take medication. I’ll have to always watch what I do because of the potential for more surgery. That’s okay. I’d accepted the medical portion of this long ago. The relief is in knowing the insurance company now must comply with the ruling from the judge.
The worst part is that they always DID have to follow the law, but there were little tiny loopholes just big enough for them to slip through and to mess with me. They can do that with anyone. They got out of retraining me. They got out of a lot of things. But now, it’s all on paper and it’s been signed by their attorney, my attorney, me, and the judge. And so it’s done.
With any luck, you’ll never hear me say another word about what assholes they are. Because, you know, they’ll play by the rules now. (I know, I’m not holding my breath either.)
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I dunno know about you, but I hope I sparkle like a different girl* after today.
Court today. Wish me luck.
* For anyone not going to click that link, just let me say it’s one of the best Bowie songs ever.
Show of hands: who’s really dug into the lyrics from Crowded House? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
Absolutely brilliant stuff. Dig in deep, my friends. I’ve always loved them. Always. Even when Neil Finn was with Split Enz. (I know I’ve blogged this before…somewhere in the “lost archives”…) And even since then.
You probably remember this Split Enz tune:
But this is the song I loved:
Bringing this back full circle, here’s one of the sweetest tunes from Crowded House (for the official video, watch this one). This version is beautiful, too:
I know, I know, you were waiting for me to lob “Don’t Dream it’s Over” your way. Nope. You already know that song. But the pictures they paint within that song are rather amazing, aren’t they? Try “Four Seasons In One Day”. Try “Weather With You”. Try…the whole damn song library.
Ann Marie used to always exclaim, “Oh, Donald!” when she’d get exasperated over things.
I’m saying it because The Donald cast the dreamy Curtis Stone in this season’s Celebrity Apprentice. I’ve missed him. Take Home Chef was one of my favorite shows. I mean, who wouldn’t want to invite that man into their home and spend a couple hours cooking alongside him?
Thank you, Mr. Trump. Best casting decision you’ve ever made. You even got me to not watch Undercover Boss, which I love.
Anyhow, I’m happy to see Curtis back on TV (and no, I don’t watch Biggest Loser or The Today Show and yes, I know he’s on those shows sometimes). TLC screwed up on this one. Instead of a fun show like Take Home Chef, we get yet another show about addiction. Yawn. Sorry, I don’t find addiction entertaining. And don’t we already have enough of these shows on TV? A&E has one. VH1 has a couple. I just don’t see the need for yet another. Bring me something upbeat and cheerful like a hot chef who could conceivably pop up in my kitchen sometime and I’m so there.
Off to wrangle dogs now. I’ve drooled enough over that blond hotness for a while.
P.S. Anyone else miss That Girl?
I’ve probably seen Eddie & the Cruisers a million and four times. I used to work in a video store and this was one of our favorite movies to play. I knew all the lines. I knew every look. I knew every note played. In short, I loved the movie in a most unhealthy manner.
I heard this song on the radio today and now you must join in the fun.
I obviously made it safely to San Diego. The flight itself was good, but I was in bad shape. My back… sheesh. Just scary. I spent a couple hours in the emergency room this afternoon. Got a shot of dilaudid and vistaril. Got a refill on my meds, finally. The attorney is working on getting me into a regular doctor. I may be having to fly back here every month or two to see someone, but if that means my pain will be properly managed, I’m cool with that.
Little Dude is here with me and the four dogs we’re caring for this week. So far, it’s been just a little noisy and lots of fun. LD and the puppy are getting along well. Miss Molly even let him pick her up (she’s been running away from me unless I have food for her).
And now we’re going to hang out and do a lot of nothing for tonight.
I’m a bit sore, but I’m happy to be here.