A Little Night Musing

Tonight, I'm on youtube and listening to music from the 90's to the early 2000's- basically, my growing up music from high school and early college. It's this whole playlist of over 200 songs and I know most of them. Plus a few more playlists and single song searches that yielded more songs and playlists since searches yield more songs.

It's amazing some of the memories but mostly the feelings. Just the way the songs make me feel even now. A little lonely, a little sad, a little I don't know what I want or where I'm going but I'm on my way. It's the feeling of so much in front of you and aching to get out.

And it's the way it makes me feel now. Like wanting to dance when I hear "Mr. Jones." Or be a little sad with "Round Here." Live's Throwing Copper album wants me to just up and leave in the middle of the night and go- anywhere but here. "Breakfast at Tiffany's" will just always make me feel happy and I have to roll down the windows of the car, turn it up, and just belt it out. The magic of "Return to Innocence" and that one dance in 8th grade where we ended up singing "Basket Case" out in the parking lot because of a bomb threat and being cold. This was 1995, so Dookie had just come out and I'd only started school in that district that year. A few years later, I graduated high school at the other end of the road from where we were. Our class song? "(Good Riddance) Time of Your Life"- also by Green Day.

Then there's the memories of buses. A lot of songs that remind me of buses- band, drum corps, driving on trips, getting stuck in New Mexico, driving somewhere in the middle of the night and I've no idea where I am or when I'll get there.

Sometimes things don't change; but sometimes they do. We grow up and move on. But the music's still there. Those old feelings come and go and the music's there to remind us.

Maybe I'm making no sense as it's 12:19 am as I'm writing this and ten hours ago I was leaving Waco. Maybe it's because on the way back, I went to a town I lived on over 25 years ago- which is crazy- and it was the first move I ever had and still I remembered how to get to the house where we lived- the back way. Maybe I'm just having wishful thinking and wished for different things. Maybe I'm just having a night where I feel a little lost and I'm trying to reclaim who I wanted to be when I was 10 or 15 or whatever age so long ago.

Maybe I just don't know. Until I do, I figure I'll just keep listening.

You're never alone cause you can put on the phones
And let the drummer tell your heart what to do
Keep on believing 
And you'll discover baby

There's always something magic
There's always something new
And when you really, really need it the most
That's when rock and roll dreams come through

For you

~Meat Loaf, "Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through"

It's a little ironic (maybe, I have no sense of irony and I don't get people saying "I'm ironic;" like are you ironic all the time? What? I don't get it so please explain. But, I digress) that I've been thinking about what I really what to do with my life and what and where and now, here I am, faced with all the options of doing just what I want.

It's also more than just a little scary. I worry about finances. I worry about paying my phone bill and paying the new phone off. I worry about having enough for possible classes so I can be a better massage therapists.

I don't, however, worry about yarn. I hit up a few sales and have more than enough for a few blankets or loads of smaller things- bags, scarves, dish cloths, etc. It's not as organized as I'd like, but I know that will happen and it's already getting better.

I do wonder how many blankets and bags and scarves and non-wintry things I could make and sell though. I wonder often if I could really make a living do that. Or at least enough to cover at least a few basics like the phone and my upkeep in Dr Pepper.

Oh well. I have an interview tomorrow which is rather exciting. It's at a chiropractor.

Another Suitcase in Another Hall

Yesterday I lost my job. Yes, there are reasons, but they're neither here nor there; just know it happened. I'm moving on. I don't know how this will effect future things; I'll just have to see.

I should get one more paycheck on Tuesday. I'll pay a bill or two and get my oil changed. I'll probably buy some Dr Pepper cause- Dr Pepper.

I have options. I've thought about various different things before yesterday and lots more since. as well as being given options from other. I just need a couple of days to sort through emotions. Then, I'll sit down and start going through all the other things- applications, excel spreadsheets, all the choices and option, etc. and figure out what to do next. Over the past few months, I've been given to what/if/then thoughts. If I had the time/availability/money/whatever, could/would I be able to do certain things? Guess I do now.

But tonight, I'm going to chill. Later, I'll turn off the lights and stare at the glow in the dark stuff on the ceiling and listen to the 1976 Broadway Evita- the one with Mandy Patikin as Che. That musical always gets me through times like these.

Call in three months time and I'll be fine, I know
Well maybe not that fine, but I'll survive anyhow
I won't recall the names and places of each sad occasion
But that's no consolation here and now.

So what happens now?
Another suitcase in another hall
So what happens now?
Take your picture off another wall
So what happens now?
You'll get by you always have before
Where am I going to?....
Don't ask any more. 

Ideal Life

Lately, with all the stress of trying to find a place to live and issues at work that make me feel like less of a therapist and wanting more, I've been thinking/dreaming/whatever about what I really want out of life.

How I see how my ideal life would be lived is pretty easy. I'd own a bit of land that ideally has lots of trees. There's a place in Denton that I think of, though last I knew it was owned by someone else. But, there are other places I think of when I think of this land. It's also not completely country like in the middle of nowhere. I'd be within 15-20 minutes of a town. So it's pseudo-country.

Anyway. I'd have a house there and maybe an out building that was where I'd do my massages. The out building wouldn't be overly large; probably a small house or a place built out of hay like I've seen in Mother Earth News. The house would be just enough for me and include a craft room.

On Sundays, I'd go to church (UU if possible) and then enjoy the afternoon. In the evening, I'd plan my to do list for the week.

Most days, I'd write and crochet and massage. I'd have some sort of schedule. Like, I'm available to do massages certain times like I do now. Then, with that to do list I'd written, I'd plan accordingly. Do I need to finish a blanket? Great! On Monday I'd work on said blanket around my massage schedule. I'd listen to audiobooks and podcasts or watch TV whilst crafting.

I'd write some. Maybe get those rewrites finished and work on the one series and short stories.

I'd spend the evening on the porch- because of course I'd have a porch- and read or think or whatever.

I'd have friends over.

I'd laugh.

I'd be less anxious.

Wanderlust, Runaways, and Blue Highways

My spirit animal is a Bear. As I look back in my past years, I can see this as so. Every year for many now, once November hits, I want to start hibernating. I hate driving at night once that time of year hits. It doesn't wear off until spring officially hits.

But, it starts off slow. Like coming out of the cave and seeing the world anew.

And them comes Memorial Day weekend. That's when my wanderlust hits full force. It's the last weekend of faire. It's move-in weekend for drum corps (has it really been 15  years since I marched?). That's the weekend I see before me a full and invincible summer. I start playing my summer playlist. I pull out tattered and underlined copies of Travels with Charley and Blue Highways. I bring out more Steinbeck novels that are stuffed in an old Doc Marten box and Kate Chopin's The Awakening.

I long to drive again at night. I long for putting the radio on and good songs just start pouring out and I just keep driving. Anywhere. Everywhere.

I dream of my wanderlust and need to run away to merge and I drive until morning finds me and a new perspective. That's the real reason I so often want to run away.

I did once. Run. I was 10 and it was after my first big move from my home town and state to a new town in a completely different state. Fast forward about 10 years and I start dreaming of running away again. I just wanted to get away and start over. I needed to get away from people. I started dreaming of the routes I'd take. I'm over a decade older and maybe none the wiser; but the routes are still there and still the same.

Some days I do still dream of running away. When things start going crazy and I just need to leave the two hour comfort zone that DFW provides. I want to follow William Least-Heat Moon's blue highways. Follow the road Steinbeck took with Charley. Find a way to Chicago and route 66. Go my own run away routes and just see what happens.

I always know the problems and worries will still be around. But sometimes, it feels like running away for even just a little while will help. New perspectives. Time to just walk away for a moment and think. Ask myself the big questions and maybe find answers.

Quo vadimus?