2021-02-17 Having an Out-of-Body Without Ever Leaving My Body

It’s another random ordinary Wednesday and there’s once again not a single noteworthy thing I have to contribute. Not a thought in my head worthy of writing about for the gazilllionth time. 

Late yesterday I ingested some citrus ginseng fizz I bought from a newish acquaintance of mine whose business is selling these Earth friendly health products. I’ve spent a fair bit of coin on protein powder, energy boosters, body washes and hair gels from her and this company. It’s part of my plan to try and live a healthier lifestyle and also be a better caretaker of our planet.

No matter, as that’s not relevant to my point. But this citrus ginseng powder which I mixed into water and drank about 6pm has caffeine. I think that’s what resulted in me being wide awake at 10pm.

At 10 Pm I was laying in my bed unable to fall asleep and thinking about all sorts of things including how much of a broken record I always am with my writing. I mean really thinking. 

Like I’m watching the needle on the track as it spins, a little swing arm with a tiny bit of metal digging into a groove on a piece of rotating black plastic. I zoomed in and saw the smallest wavering as the rectangular head holding the needle was moved by the imperfections of the spinning vinyl.

Round and round with each rotation ending in a small, almost imperceptible click and jump, back to the beginning of that same track. I zoomed in a little more to confirm what I was seeing. Sure enough, there it was, over and over. Click……..click…….click. How had I missed this before? Why did I think that the song had been changing? After all this time, it’s still the same song. I remember thinking it’s a good song but how can this be?

I thought about how to get to a new song. I mean, really get unstuck and find a new track, and that only led to a terrible scratching sound like fingernails across a chalkboard. Cliche I know! But that’s exactly the feeling. That sound and shiver you might do anything to avoid if you knew it was about to happen. All of a sudden I’m staring at a girl with pointy polished nails positioning her fingers precariously at the top of the blackboard. I say,“DONT.”

Turning my attention back to the record player, I balanced the swing arm on the tip of my index finger, not allowing it to move a centimeter in any direction, record spinning benieth it. I held it in place as I held my breath waiting for whatever was going to happen next.

This moment was one infantesimal moment in the grand orchestra of time. 

In a way I felt paralyzed by the math of it. For every possible move, an incalculable number of outcomes: actions, reactions, and ripples of consequence. In the biz we call this paralysis from over analysis which is something I’ve often been afflicted by.

An unseen amount of time passed as I sat there, hovering above the earth somewhere inexplicable. Where could I possibly be that neither the moon nor the sun were in view? The earth, a powder blue orb, was in front of me and a field of stars far behind. Defying the lack of gravity, my finger still balanced the swing arm of the record player. I would have asked (of no one) “how on Earth is this happening?” But I wasn’t on Earth anymore so the question seemed entirely irrelevant.

Is this a joke? I thought. Some sort of a test? Some survivor challenge I forgot I entered? Some random episode of Punkd? My finger began to cramp and suddenly the weight of the swing arm became a concern. How long could I hold this position? I’d have to decide what to do soon.

As the muscles in my forearm began to tense and quiver I conjured a conductor. This moment, as small as it was in the grand scheme, was too big for me to navigate on my own. An invisible index finger slipped under my index finger, helping me hold the needle in place and I immediately felt relief.

The song that had never stopped playing returned to my ear. I didn’t move but the scene surrounding me was transformed back to the familiar room I sleep in. I stared at the record player, my finger miraculously still balancing the arm that held the needle that dug its pin point into that familiar groove. I slowly pulled my aching finger away, curled it back into my palm with my other fingers, and pressed my thumb around it. The song never missed a beat. 

***

This was all very strange, considering that I don’t even own a record player.

With peace and love, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2020-12-20 Stand in the Mirror and Wait for Feedback

Sunday again. Lacking sleep again. Still working on that lecture. On and on. 

I’m trying not to freak out. You know, but there’s so much to do. Res. GLR. Christmas. Bills. You know I’ve got bills that are like 60 days past due and I can’t even begin. 

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Something must be. It must. 

Creature comfort make it painless. 

At least today I don’t have a hangover. Today it’s just cramps which in some ways brings welcome relief to the emotional roller coaster I sometimes live for about a week before my period with regard to my emotions. 

It’s just past 8am and I’ve just had my caffeine. I’m just now on the treadmill but have been awake off and on for like 100 hours. 

Somewhere around 5am I switched from reading about Adrienne Rich to Diane di Prima. The quintessential example of a poet embracing experience and freedom when it comes to both poetry and life. 

I’m almost wrapped with the research on this lecture. And I’ve probably got twice what I need for talking for 40 minutes. I’ll be polishing tomorrow while Jim is at work and then I’ll know for sure how much overage there is. 

Did I mention Christmas is in 5 days??!! Thankfully the family gatherings and gift exchanges are at a minimum. Thanks Covid. If I had my way it would be a repeat of Thanksgiving. 

Good food and just us. But.. being the good daughter that I am I’m going to CB Christmas Eve to visit with my dad and having my mom over Christmas Day. Part of me has wondered when it will feel ok to have them both over at the same time. So many levels of questions there. Least of which is the side-eye I’m certain I would get from my siblings. But whatever. 

It’s not like they make much effort. We were just not raised that way. 

Anyway. So I’ve got presents to wrap today and work to do on the GLR. 

Incidentally my newest side-gig is teaching my kitten Gus Gus to walk on the treadmill. Any day now he’ll be good enough that I can try getting some video footage. Then I’ll be making bank when the Instagram account I created for my cats blows up! I’ll put them on tic tok too or whatever the latest craze is the teenagers are wasting their time with these days. 

Every damn time I think about my distaste for the technological age, I feel old. I mean like seriously. I’m THAT person saying “back in my day we didn’t have no internet. We had to keep ourselves entertained. We rode bikes and explored the outdoors.” 

Yeah, and then a bunch of kids got abducted and that was the end of that. My poor little sisters, caught between the end of the latch-key era and before the advent of the internet. Stuck being raised by endless hours of mindless television. 

To be fair, I was a TV junkie too, more later though like in my twenties. 

Yeah. Any day now these cats are going to make me famous. 

The other night I created a new Instagram account for my cats. I had been drinking so the details are fuzzy but at one point my daughter takes the phone from me and just “fixes” everything. She declared that I didn’t know what I was doing. Said the username I picked was boring. Changed it to “kittens_shenanigans” and then we talked about hash tags. Yeah, I really have no business in that business but with her help, we can do it. 

The thing that makes me bad at social media (besides the constant resistance) is that I just don’t give a fuck. I just don’t. 

Post or don’t post. Tweet or retweet. Share, like, lick, suck, fuck… I DONT CARE!! 

There. I said it. So what? Perhaps I’m channeling Diane di Prima from the great beyond. 

It’s all just funny money anyway. Like titles. Tiny little boxes. Tiktok, ticky tacky. Little boxes on the hillside. Little boxes all the same. 

It reminds me of that theme song from the show “Weeds.” That was a good show. 

Little boxes on the hillside,

Little boxes made of ticky tacky

Little boxes on the hillside,

Little boxes all the same.

There’s a green one and a pink one 

And a blue one and a yellow one,

And they’re all made out of ticky tacky

And they all look just the same.

And the beat goes on, you know. But instead of little boxes were like zombies inside our little houses exploring the world with even smaller boxes in front of our faces, with all our creature comforts an arms reach from our couches and poorly lit desks and beds. 

Where’s the spirit of adventure? How do you teach that? You can’t just talk about it. You have to teach by doing, by example, and sometimes with a healthy dose of tough love. 

As it is with poetry, show, don’t tell. 

That’s enough wandering today I think. Gotta go get dressed to run errands. 

Peace and Love, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2020-11-26 Rock Out With Your Turkey Out

I’m cooking the traditional today, for the 3 or so other people who also live here and want to partake. 3 people with picky palates and tummies and are used to getting exactly what they want and when. Today.. at the Castle, I’m making it all about me. I’m cooking food that I like to eat and will serve it when I want to eat it. And I’m not doing any ducking dishes when I’m done. None!

Zip, zero, zilch!

And since we are having holiday dinner Miss SugarCookie style, there will be no salad, veggies, or casserole. Efffff that noise.

I mean, I love me a mean broccoli-cheese casserole or veg tray with a savory dill dip but why not skip it and make more room for pie. Yes, there are only 4 of us here today but I bought two pies. Pumpkin and apple. Hey, ho, let’s go.

Say Yo?! What’s up with the voice today? The tone, the attitude? Must be the caffeine. Oh yeah, and imma have coffee today too and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Say Yo?! Do you ever feel like you’re just walking along having a conversation with yourself? Heh. Me too. 😏

Yesterday was a pretty good day. Productive despite not getting exercise or eating right. My four stats, in case you’re the newest member of the team and don’t know yet, are sleep, Exercise, productivity/mood, and healthy eating. I was going to say that since keeping track again I’ve not yet hit a day where I “achieved” my goal in all four categories but I just flipped back through the book I’m using to keep track and there have actually been 3 days where I hit 4 out of 4. 💃💃💃💃

November 6, 16, and 23rd. Despite the really rotten days, this is actually encouraging. That’s why it’s good to keep track. It’s also good to have days that you just toss into the wind, throw your hands in the air and tell the world that you just don’t care.

Say Yo? Guess what else? Two nights ago I did my first real honest to goodness public poetry reading. For realz. Now for some people I can guess that this is no big deal but for this SugarCookie it’s a BIG DILL.

Blog intermission: There should be a pickle emoji. Why is there no pickle emoji? Somebody needs to get on that.

One of the poems I read was “Cake at the Castle” which has several layers of meaning (pun intended) but people would not understand the layers unless they know me. I mean really know me. I’d like to imagine a scenario where I’m surrounded by all my favorite people and I read that poem and it makes them all smile. Not just for the attitude, but because they get it. They get me.

On the surface, it’s a fun poem, lamenting about hating cake, which is true. I don’t care for cake and when folks made a good god damned big deal about the cake that would be served at my first wedding I did not have the words to explain how much I did not care about the cake. I also didn’t really care much for all the wedding and reception planning, decisions, decor, food, yadda-yadda. I just wanted to focus on finishing my associates degree so I could  run away to Vegas with my love, which is where he was stationed in the Air Force and where we would live for the first two years of our marriage.

Fast forward 25 years and I’m getting married again and I STILL don’t care about cake. It’s just like it says the lines of the poem. But with this go round I had to make all the decisions and do all the planning because there was no future MIL who was going to do it all for me.

I literally waited till the last possible minute and ended up ordering from the grocery store down the block. I mean, I suppose I could have had pie, but in the end I realized I DID want that tall display and to stand beside my love, shoving a piece of stupid cake in his mouth. Oh for the love of a moment.

That’s what’s on the surface, of the poem. Dig deeper with some of the other lines though and one would have to know me and that one of my favorite bands is Cake. There was a time in my life where I crossed the line from fan to fanatic. I mean, as much as one can with a life of responsibility.

I traveled to watch them play live and collected stories about my failed attempts  to bring home a free tree to plant in my yard. I’d get drunk at parties and tell people all about how I had failed but was analyzing their selection process and figuring out how best to get their (the bands) attention the next time so I could win a free tree. 

I even participated in the music video experiment they orchestrated with fans around 2010/2011 for their song, “The Winter.” I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned it before. I’m in the video for a fraction of a second.

A fraction of a second of fame is all I’ll ever squeeze out of this life. But I’m satisfied.

But that’s just the middle layer of the poem. Going deeper requires an understanding of my connection to the Cake song referenced in the poem, “I Bombed Korea.” And here, my friends, is where the meaning is mired in the mind(s)—the intersection of my introspection and the interpretation by other interested minds peering in, drawing conclusions from their own experiences. Mysterious roads leading to mysterious places. So mysterious, in fact, that sometimes even I don’t know the deeper meaning of a poem I have written. Here are the full lyrics of the song: 

I bombed Korea every night.
My engine sang into the salty sky.
I didn’t know if I would live or die.
I bombed Korea every night.
I bombed Korea every night.
I bombed Korea every night.
Red flowers bursting down below us.
Those people didn’t even know us.
We didn’t know if we would live or die.
We didn’t know if it was wrong or right.
I bombed Korea every night.
And so I sit here at this bar.
I’m not a hero.
I’m not a movie star.
I’ve got my beer.
I’ve got my stories to tell,
But they won’t tell you what it’s like in hell.
Red flowers bursting down below us.
Those people didn’t even know us.
We didn’t know if we would live or die.
We didn’t know if it was wrong or right.
We didn’t know if we would live or die.
I bombed Korea every night.

I really dig that song. 

It never fails to amaze me, when I do this—Analyze one of my own poems and find some other meaning. Or return to one years later, reading with a fresh perspective and uncover a different spin on it. The deeper meaning hidden in “Cake at the Castle” shifts as my life shifts, though it has only been a year or so since it was born. I listen to the song today while walking the treadmill and am filled again with that “fuck yeah” feeling. Freedom. Don’t even get me started on not knowing if what you’re doing is wrong or right or being in the midst of life and just doing what it is you are “supposed” to do. Or telling stories about it, years later and knowing that the stories don’t do justice to the original experience in either meaning or implication. 

Kind of like me writing about setting up my camera and tripod at the kids’s elementary school park and shooting video of myself singing a few lines of the cake song, “The Winter” with the hope of making it into their music video. You just can’t know what that really meant to me. 

Say Yo?! So what’s a girl to do? I gush. I rush. I crush. And I mush and mash potatoes. Bake bread. Serve stuffing from the stove top. Yeah, that’s the only kind of Thanksgiving dinner I’ve cared for since I was just nineteen. 

Anyhow, that’s enough wandering for one day. Time now, to get that bird in the oven. 

With Peace an Gratitude,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-11-05 Nothing New to Say Thursday

Day 7 without a good nights sleep. It’s sort of like having a newborn without having to breastfeed. You go a little cray-cray after a while. I find myself being irritated at small things. I find myself giving up on stuff too easily. I’m walking a lot to try and compensate.

I try to take naps. Three days this week so far I’ve forced myself to lay down and try and sleep in the afternoon. I maybe have gotten 20 minutes sleep tops if anything and I would say I wake up feeling more tired because I didn’t really get a full restorative cycle. Damnit Janet!

What else? What can I possibly write about that is different?


I’ve literally been walking for 15 minutes listening to random music on shuffle. I have nothing to say.

So here are a few brief glimpses of what I’m thinking based on the music in my ears:

Lemonheads (insert any song from “Come on and Feel”): Reminds me about the better parts of my life in Vegas. 20 years old, laying outside by my apartment on the patio or at the pool playing super Mario or Tetris on my game boy. I must have listened to that album a gazillion times. The relentless sun warming my pale skin. Ignorant of the world and free from responsibility, it was a carefree, albeit fairly lonely time.

R.E.M. (any song): Elicits a strange mix of memories from both my ex husband and the maddest crush I had in HS, Scott. He doesn’t go by that name now. He’s used his middle name, Christian, for so long Most folks probably don’t know his real given first name. Last I heard he was a professor at Stanford. He had it all going for him in HS. The brains, the hair, the eyes, the shoes. When we were seniors I lived across the street from him. Yeah, serious wonder years kind of shit. I’m sure my journals from that time are full of fluff about that boy.

Both he and my ex were fans of REM and as such, I too became a fan. There are a lot of songs and bands I’ve liked in the past that I elect to skip now when they come up. But not R.E.M. I never skip them.

Blue October it depends on the song. Some of them are solid Joshua. Joshua the first time I fell for him. And oh the irony because he hated Blue October.

Yeah, I was reeled in by that guy twice. I don’t think there was music associated the second time around.

Arcade Fire: Is Jackson and the residency we spent in adjacent rooms, knocking on the wall good morning and good night. He would wander over to my room to nom on my snacks late in the day. That’s when he introduced me to the band.

He’s literally half my age and I just enjoyed listening to him talk. Partially for his enthusiasm and fresh ideas and partially because it reminded me how glad I’m not that age anymore.

Counting Crows: There’s a lot from this band that comes up but I don’t think I associate them with any person, place, or experience. Perhaps there are one or two songs that elicit certain thought, like Murder of One, which kind of reminds me of the end of my marriage. “You don’t want to waste tour life now darlin / change change change.”

And possibly that time near the end when my sisters and I did a road trip to Chicago to sight see and go to their concert. That was a fun weekend. Oh the stories.

Ohhhhh “Separate Lives” by Phil Collins is an interesting one. It reminds me of my parents and how I imagine their relationship would have been after their divorce. The male and female vocals, the conversational lyrics, and the hope at the end of the song that they would someday be “looking in each other’s eyes”. Probably projecting my own hope for my parents.

Maroon 5 belongs to Matt as do the Foo Fighters.

Sheryl Crow is also Vegas.

Dave Mathews is another strange mix, reminding me of both a guy I dated for a hot minute and an ex-boss who both were really into the band. The guy is a good guy that I’m still friends with on FB but I ended up hating my ex boss so much that I literally can’t listen to Dave Mathews without getting angry so I always skip those songs. Always. And I’m never getting over that.

Kelly Clarkson reminds me of watching American Idol. Haha.

Taylor Swift always makes me happy. Reminds me of my strength as an independent woman. There’s a few songs that remind me of Matt but mostly the power I found putting my life back together after our relationship ended and I was finally “Clean.”

Now I’m just fast forwarding through songs to see how long it takes for Jason Mraz to come up. There’s a point in my life I hijacked like every one of his songs off the inter-webs and my library literally has hundreds of songs from albums and live recordings. It’s an anomaly none has come up in the shuffle.

Upon further investigation, it appears that the music library on my phone currently has zero MR.AZ. This will have to be remedied in short order after my treadmill time is done. 

Jason, of course, reminds me of my friend Vis. As does David Ford and Death Cab for Cutie. All in the best ways. The one negative song. “Wish List” by Pearl Jam will forever be a scar on my brain from the night I realized he was truly going to pursue another girl over staying with me. My heart broke that night and kept on breaking for weeks. Years would go by before I could listen to that song again without getting upset. Strange how music has that kind of power over our minds.

I think that’s enough random shuffle memories for…. A long time! 😉 

No News is Good News.. I Guess, 🤷‍♀️
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-05-16 Every Little Thing Gonna Be Alright

Bob Marley got it right.

Three Little Birds is just one of those iconic songs from my past that returns to my mind again again in new situations and brings with it the history that my brain has attached to it. And despite all the hurt I’ve ever experienced, and negative nostalgia attached with some of those times, the song still makes me smile.

It’s like those words are untouchable. untarnishable, and timeless. That’s when you know something is truly golden. The return and remembrance and power to evoke thoughts and, bigger still.. feelings.

The first time I heard that song was in high school at a house party that my friend Danielle threw while her parents were out of town. Danielle was the youngest of 7 children and she was born on Christmas Day. Her parents were strict and very religious. But I suppose having 7 kids would wear anyone down to turning a blind eye to unwanted teenage antics. Like throwing parties when you are out of town.

I was a goodie-two-shoes and didn’t drink, save for a wine cooler or two. And the “getting drunk” was something I didn’t understand. I remember sitting with people I didn’t know and that song came on and I just sat and listened to the words as the conversation swirled around me. It was a beautiful moment.

That’s all I remember but I still have a picture someone took (probably me) of my friend standing next to the open refrigerator like Vanna White proudly displaying all the adult beverages. I can count on one hand the number of house parties I went to in high school. Yup.. that’s just how it was for me.

I also remember hearing the song when I was dating my first boyfriend and I knew the song and he knew it too so it was a connection for us. It reminds me of falling in love. And like I said, despite all the hurt he’s caused me over the years what I feel when I hear that song is our falling in love. That’s incredible.

I sang the song to my babies when they were babies and remember the overstuffed rocking recliner I bought to nurse them in their room. Quiet moments in the early morning filled with love for them and also hope that they would go back to sleep for a little while longer. I don’t connect it with the colic or crying.. just peace and quiet.

Now, as this pandemic wrecks havoc on our lives, I have had the occasion to think about that song and find peace in it.

More info than anyone needs to know, but Jim and I have a chalkboard in our master bathroom and right now I’ve got that iconic line “every little thing gonna be alright” written out with a pic of a tiny bird sitting on a branch.

Every time I see it, it makes me smile. It also makes me think.. I should draw two more little birds to round out the trio. But then I don’t.

This morning I woke with the rising sun. The sunrise was absolutely amazing, from what I could see from our east facing windows (not a great view because of the trees and the position of our house in the neighborhood). The house was quiet and the only other life awake in that moment were the birds outside and the cats.

I tried to get a picture and then retreated back to the living room for a little quiet time alone with my thoughts. Besides that song, the other words that are repeating in my head right now are “this too shall pass”.

The pandemic will end. Life will go back to normal. We will all be affected by what has happened in big and small ways and probably normal life will be a little different too. But in the end, every little thing IS going to be all right.

Peace and Love,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-04-28 Hidden Tracks, Nostalgia, and Serious Feels

I’m listening to a new playlist I created last week. It’s pretty much the bomb and full of songs I’ve forgotten I loved so much and some new ones I didn’t even know I owned.

Each new selection leads down another road of thought, which is pretty incredible, but it makes me feel sort of ADHD. I can’t focus.

One minute I’m sad because I’m reminded of Matt and how our relationship ended (“Poetry by Dead Men” by Sara Bareilles) and the next one leaves me dancing where I stand (“In Your Room” by the Bangles) or laughing out loud (Sweet As Whole by Sara Bareilles). Then there’s “You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morissette.

That came on just as I was finishing up on the treadmill and though I like that song, it doesn’t really do anything for me. I listen all the way through though, because I know what comes after… a song that was “hidden” on the CD on the same track as “You Oughta Know”, but you have to wait through a minute or so of silence to hear it.

That’s right. Some of my music comes from CDs I ripped and imported into my music library years ago and the “Jagged Little Pill” CD was one of those I’ve had since I was 20. My first thought when I knew what was coming was how kids today will never understand hidden tracks or secret songs. They get their music streaming from some service and so those golden nuggets died off with the CD.

I wonder if CDs nowadays still have those things? Hmmmm.

My second thought? Well… I gotta listen to the song but it always makes me cry. She sings about going to her lovers house and enjoying spending time there alone, thinking of him and musing about their love. Then she finds a letter on his desk from another woman and it takes a turn. She’s instantly heartbroken and leaving salt in the bed. It’s an incredibly moving song for me and, well, the tears always come.

But then the song ends, you know, and then it’s Lily Allen singing “The Fear” in my ear and it just makes me bouncy again. That song s from a very different era of my life and hearing it takes me back.

35 years old and getting a divorce and as challenging as that was, my nostalgia about it is the color of freedom. I finally felt like I was in charge of my own life for the first time of my life. I was 35 and had never lived alone. Never picked out my own dishes or paint colors without someone else’s ok. Just listen to the song “I Could Say” by Lily and that’s the essence of my life back then.

I mean, I’ve tried to capture this in a poem, but it’s one of those elusive things. And frankly, since that was years ago, I’m not inclined to try anymore. I’ve got plenty of content from the present. I thought the other day that I could write a bunch of poems about that time in my life, but I ask myself “do you want to spend your precious time in the past, or do you wanna focus on now?”

The answer (right now) is now.

And right now, I’m just enjoying these tunes and the feels and whatever will be will be. Poetry or no poetry.

That’s all I’ve got time for on this taco Tuesday.

Peace and Love and Music, 🎶
~Miss SugarCookie

2018-11-17 Hey Mr. DJ – What’s Up?

This morning I woke up around 6 and that would normally be fine, but I didn’t go to bed until close to midnight. That equates to less than 6 hours of good sleep. I was doing great for the week and then, WHAM, it all went down the drain because of one night. In any case I’m at the gym early and it’s Saturday so the kids won’t be up for hours. I’m totally sick of all my play lists and feeling really uninspired. There’s nothing worse than an uninspired poet. 😜
My go-to in this situation is to give up the reins to the Universe and see what I will be served up from the master shuffle. I can’t go too wrong because the set is still limited to music on my phone — all my favorite artists and albums. So far, the Universe has not disappointed me. It’s been Cake and Snow Patrol and Pearl Jam. (Just accidentally spelled Pearl “Perl”, such a nerd). I’m feeling better already.
Now I have a serious work rant brewing, but “ain’t nobody got time for that”. I’ve been whining and complaining too much lately. I mean what hourly person – ever – complained about having too many hours??! But enough about that, how about that new Fantastic Beasts movie?
The kids and I had dinner and a movies night last night and we are pretty solid Harry Potter fans so anything that has to do with the wizarding world is a must see. My memory for movies is really poor. I see them for entertainment value only and don’t ever retain much of the characters and plot after. As is the case, I didn’t remember much from the first Fantastic Beasts movie so I went into this one cold.
Sometimes sequels do a good job of filling the audience in on important plot items from the first movie. If done correctly, you could watch a sequel without even having watched the first movie and not be lost. This movie either did not do that well or was just generally confusing. I’m inclined to think it was the latter as there were things I was still confused about toward the end of the movie.
I mean, the general plot is pretty basic. Bad guy escapes detainment by the ministry of magic (that’s not a spoiler, yo, cuz there would not be a movie if this didn’t happen) and they need to recapture him before he gets to some other important character who is connected to another prophecy. Oh, by the way, they refer to this prophecy as poetry and I dig that! Anyway, that was the stage that was set. Beyond that it was a lot going on from scene to scene that my brain struggled with.
The special effects were bad-ass of course but unless what you are seeing makes sense, you kind of just go “uhhh cool??”. It is not lost on me that this is #2 in a series and so if there are questionable characters introduced that we don’t yet understand or areas of the plot that did not get resolved, it’s because they are setting up for #3.
Again, if you do that too much, it leaves the audience unsatisfied with the movie as a singular unit. I know I left feeling unsatisfied. It wasn’t just me. Talking with my kids on the way home they were confused about it too. I mentioned the prophecy which was a major plot element and in my daughter’s head, she mixed that up with some other “prophesy like” things that were also mentioned. I said all that business about the Phoenix was foreshadowing, and then we had an argument about it (teenagers 🙄).
To be fair, she was partially confused because what takes place in the movie precedes the Harry Potter story by many, many years. She didn’t connect that the Dumbledore character was a younDumbledoreor. I can see where that would throw everything off. Was it a good movie? Yes. But it definitely left something more to be desired. More resolution maybe. More explanation or connecting the dots. I dunno. I think when #3 comes out, we should watch the first two again, just to prepare. I’d watch it again anyway to see if I catch something I missed the first time around. So there’s that.
My personal DJ started out great a half hour ago but the last few songs have been total “skippers”. Hmmm, what’s up with that? 🤔
In other news, we are rolling into the end of the semester and I have like 10 days to finish my last packet. I really only just had a conversation with my mentor about my last packet a few days ago. This weekend I plan to do a fair bit of reading and research for my final essays and revisions based on feedback. I’d love to roll into the upcoming holiday week/weekend with some of that all wrapped up and off my mind.
I solidified my decision this week to skip a semester of school because of my workload and the pending move. There are things I want to do really well, and I recognized after this semester’s constant struggle that trying to do all that AND move would probably push me off some edge. I want to take my time and enjoy this transition. I don’t want to have to split my time and consequently not be able to put my whole attention to any task in front of me. That includes school. When I go back in the fall, I want to be able to devote a lot of attention to that.
I talked to my MFA program coordinator about alternate pathways that would allow me to take classes and I think that’s something I really want to do. There is no way I can do that this spring so the timing for going back in the fall will be perfect. By then the move will be ancient history and I will have minimized my work hours back to 20 a week. 👍🏻👍🏻
Ok, now my DJ is serving me all kinds of crap and I’m not cool with that. And here I thought there wasn’t that much garbage in my library?! It’s that or I’m just not in the mood for Adele or Dave Matthews or John Mayer. Yeah, Mr. DJ, it’s not you, it’s me.
I’m not breaking up with you over this though, I’ll still be back for more tomorrow! 🙂
Spin Me Right Round,
~Miss SugarCookie

2018-10-06 Hell Yeah, That’s My Jam

I’ve seen some good concerts in my day. I’ve also been to some seriously crappy ones and some take-or-leave-it gigs. Last night was one of the better ones. My friend Leah and I took a little road trip to Lincoln to see Fall Out Boy at the arena downtown. It was a great time.

It was a good reminder how much I dig live music. First off, I’m not a seeker of new music, I often leave it to fate to serve up something awesome I’ve not heard before. The “pre-game” show featured a group called Machine Gun Kelly and it’s no surprise I hadn’t heard of them before, but they were good. As I sat through the songs at the end of their set (we arrived about halfway through that), I could feel the beat of the bass reverberating inside of me and was all like “hell yeah!”. That’s the stuff. As a poet you would think I would have better words to describe how it made me feel, but “hell yeah”, pretty much sums it up the best.

It’s something special when you can feel connected to music you have never heard before and just be moved by it. I would totally spend money on their tunes. It kinda makes me regret missing the opening act, I think there was one, but we were having dinner downtown and it took for-ever.

In any case, MGK was a great primer for the sick FOB jams. They played a good mix of old stuff and new and since they’ve been fans of mine for so long, I knew just about every song. The typical concert accompaniments, lights, screens, fire, smoke, etc were good and not overdone. It was just the right amount of flair to not distract too much from the songs or artists. Much better than the shit-show we saw at the Pumpkins concert where I was disturbed by the creepy video going on behind the stage.

The band and the songs didn’t disappoint either. It’s actually not tough to do with such great music. Song after song that elicit memories and feelings. Though we were fairly high in the arena, we were still on our feet rocking out. We were in the front row of our section and I’m sure it pissed people off behind us when we stood up, but I was channeling my boyfriends on stage in “not giving a fuck”. I can’t remember what song it was, but they had vid behind one of the songs which was entirely compose of clips from film and tv and even video games where someone was giving someone else the finger. It was awesome. And then all of a sudden there it was again, that “hell yeah” coursing through my veins.

Unlike most concerts I’ve been to, the lead singer was not the talkative one during the show. It was the guy who is the bass guitarist. I think that’s what his role is, you think I would know since he’s been writing songs for me since like 2008.

His main message to the crowd was that “you, each individual, is worthy” and can do whatever they want. He shared a bit of history about the band in being rejected by studios and labels over 20 times before some company took a chance on them. You can read the outcome in the almighty Wiki. He also randomly bought people beers and called People out of the auduence to come jam out by the stage. That was cool. The lead singer, by contrast, never said anything. Apparently the two of them are the originators of the band and there have been change ups of the other band members over time. The Wiki would know more about that too. I’m not very good at random music facts I guess. I just know what I like.

Fall Out Boy is definitely in my top ten. If there was any question, yesterday sealed that deal. Lincoln was great too. We got lucky with parking and had a good dinner (“hell yeah” I had a cheeseburger). Getting out of town after was even not as bad as expected. 👍🏻 Despite arriving home just after midnight, I was too amped up to fall asleep until some time in the 1 o’clock hour. That made for a short night.. 4.5 hours – ouch!

No rest for the wicked I guess. Today I have Saturday full of adulting which started at 6:45 when I had to get up with Z and take her to the school for ACT testing today. That meant I was at the gym early for cardio which is good because mid-morning I’m headed to Jim’s because we are going to pick out carpet for the house. Fun fun. I find it strange that I’ve made it this far in life and have never had to pick out carpet? 🤷‍♀️

Anyway. That’s it for this SugarCookie today. The weekend is waiting. 😘

Thank You, More Please,

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-10-05 Bandwagon’s Full, Please Catch Another

I’m nearing the end of this cardio set and I’ve spent almost the entire hour writing down (typing in) brilliant lines from random Fall Out Boy songs coming up in this morning’s Shuffle. Today it’s all FOB cuz I’m preparing myself for the concert tonight. It will be total immersion all day today and Hopefully I’ll be more in the mood for a quick little road trip. Why on earth they would come all this way to see me and then NOT show up in my city. Seems like poor planning. I should talk to their manager about that. 😜

It’s nice to listen to the complete collection from an artist because then you start to detect their themes and, if you listen chronologically, the story arc of their inspiration. Is it a fine design of an artists mind or just a product of their honesty? The world may never know.

I find myself skipping over all the songs that sound like love songs. Any “me and you” song is not what I’m really after. I’m not into that beat. I’m more interested in the tormented artist, the life gone wrong success story, the one where they tell the truth. It’s the “Hum Hallelujah” and “Thriller” that gets to me, moves my mind to places it likes to sink and swim in. Add a little bit of “Wilson (Expensive Mustakes)”, don’t give a fuck what you think attitude, and I’m in Love.

I’m listening on shuffle cuz ordering things chronologically feels like it might be too much work. After all, I still have other things I have to do. Sure it would be nice to sit all day with my music library creating master playlists for the future me, but I’m too busy writing postcards to the future me, addressing them all to house numbers in ghost towns.

“We keep the beat with your blistered feet

We bullet the words at the mockingbirds singing

Slept through the weekend and dreaming

Of sinking with the melody of the cliffs of eternity

Got postcards from my former selves saying, “How you been?””

Fall In and then Fall Out, Boy.

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-08-21 It’s Not Even Halloween Yet…

And I’m already Smashing Pumpkins. (Ok, that should probably be past tense now since the concert was last night but whatev). William came to town to see me and decided to put on a show for the masses who are old enough to remember the Siamese Dreams Of their youth. I gave him the green light on that like 20 years ago but so much time has passed that I’ve truly forgotten how madly in love with me he was. Ahhh, but those were the days. Am I right?!

I guess I also never realized how strange he was. That dude is weird. Must be nice to be that way AND despite that have enough talent to carry on for so long. I just hope in 25 years after my fame has come and gone I can still sit on stage for like three hours and pull in that kind of cash. I can see him getting low with the dough and nudging his band buddies saying “hey guys, we should tour.” And just like that.. Waaa-laaa.. more 💵💰🤑❗️

The show was way too long for my taste and I enjoy the music he wrote for me but the rest of it I could have done without. And what’s with all the super strange video playing behind the band? That was weird squared. Some would call it art but I would never stand in front of a slow-motion weeping Marilyn Monroe with glitter eye shadow and black tears reaching up to a creepy-red robed religious statue for 2 hours in a museum so I certainly don’t want to do it during a concert. Just play the damn songs already.

At the beginning of the concert everyone was standing.. they opened with a few great tunes. Then it waned in the middle and got depressing and everyone sat down (thank the Universe). Of course they wait until the end to play the biggest hits. Once I heard “Today”, I was ready to jet. F the back stage pass he sent me back in March, I’d seen enough. As Jim and I were exciting the event center, they came on with “The World Is a Vampire”. I looked at Jim and said, “this is a good one too. Let’s get outta here”.

Today I might send William a message letting him know that if he really wants to see me, he’ll need to arrange a more intimate setting. Or maybe I won’t. Best to let those Siamese Dreams die in the past where they belong. Goodness knows we don’t need it when melancholy and the Infinute sadness will live on forever.

Rock On! 🤘

~Miss SugarCookie