“Well, they recognized Jerry from the Super Terrific Happy Hour.”

So, this happened.  Yep.  I squeed through tears.  It’s catchy, and I was singing along before it even ended the first time.  It’s identified as a country song, but I choose to see it as Sheryl Crow Rock.  Yep, it’s a genre.  She has country and rock roots and combines them with beautiful results.  As a student of both Stevie Nicks and Sheryl Crow, I automatically know the song includes life lessons.  Bonus.

I’ve never heard of Maren Morris, but they have a lovely voice.  Like if Dolly Parton and Kristen Chenoweth had a baby, (not sure if we’re there yet scientifically, but humor me, please.)  Add to that Stevie Nicks lending her range, edge, and harmonizing skills, and Sheryl Crow being herself, and you’ll see why I’m having one of those days that are so joyful, I can’t help but thank the universe.

The song is empowering to me.  It’s saying don’t put snarky expectations on how I will react to a breakup.  Just because it would make you feel better is no reason to assume I’m going to fall apart over you.  I know how to work with my feelings, and fluidly move on to whatever comes next.  In heels.  (No bitch for emphasis necessary because if the shoe fits, it’s implied.  So ninja.) 😂  I love songs that celebrate healthy thinking.  I’m off to listen on repeat.  I can’t wait for the video! ✌🏽💜

p.s. My janky foot is almost healed enough for open hi-hatting.  Yay, body!

“What was a man with a cape doing with my father?”

flower pots around an entry

No Game of Thrones, I promise.  Heh.  I’ve been hanging out with Amy Poehler (as Leslie Knope, and in ((thank you, the universe!!!)) the movie, Wine Country, now streaming on Netflix.)  I’m binging the entire series of Parks and Recreation, presently.  (The scene where Retta loses her shit over someone shooting her Mercedes wrecked me for at least 30 minutes.) 🤣

I’m spending lots of time listening to Solange’s latest album.  Solange quickly went from Beyoncè’s sister to the second artist whose music wraps around my soul and rocks me until all the pain I carry stops hurting, and I can catch my breath.  (Amy Lee is the other.)  I’m tripping because I’m so blessed to have two.  Yay!  (Thanks, Fran! 💜)

the nerve

I’m having a weirdly beautiful day.  (I don’t have bad days, ever since I realized I get to decide.)  I made several mistakes related to common sense, this morning.  It’s just that in my case, common sense often means commonly expressed by someone barely suppressing a strong urge to slap me senseless.  Whoops.

I’ve arrived at that age where I recognize I’m doing tech wrong.  I’m the auntie whom the cool kid’s meme about when they compare notes.  (And I laugh along because even though I don’t get the joke, I love laughing.) I upgraded to the iPhone XR.  In the process of moving my data and learning the phone, I failed to activate the new one before boxing up the old (for shipping.)

cool kids

I found out about my error when my groceries didn’t show up during the designated delivery window.  I had to unbox the old phone while in a chat with customer service, where we walked through the process of activation step-by-step, hand held.  I’m a geek. (This event made my inner selves, ages 5-27, fall to the floor and weep with indulgent shame.)

I suppose outgrowing geek pride (see what I did there?) is alright.  Still flexing, because yes, I do have some nerve.  🙃 So far, the most challenging thing about being an auntie is refraining from perpetually gushing over friends, artists, and my favorite millennials who happen to create podcasts for which I live.

I know my love and enthusiasm for people who fascinate me can get annoying to those who don’t share my perspective, so I hold back.  (Mostly because I don’t want the subjects of my adoration to block me IRL.)  Plus, I have auntie instincts, all of a sudden.  (They help guide me away from sending Shit From Some Random Auntie -SFSRA, that could probably only confuse.)  So, there’s that.  👍🏽 I’m off to beat my drums with sticks.  💜✌🏽

“George, you can’t show up at someones house with Ring-dings and Pepsi.”

candy

Homecoming:  a film by Beyoncè Knowles-Carter, is presently streaming on Netflix.  It was on my welcome screen, where it belongs.  Well done, Netflix.  (The HBCU documentary series is next, right Netflix?) 👍🏽  My face hurts from grinning nonstop since I found Homecoming.  I don’t care.  Two hours and seventeen minutes with Beyoncè and her hand-picked talent have lifted me all the way through.  I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve streamed it, so far.  Thank you, Beyoncè;  I’m incredibly proud of you!  💜💜

I’m thrilled by how it’s led to my feeling compelled to play my violin.  And drums, guitar, and bass.  (I’m fighting off an urge to play my keyboard as I type.)  I’m inspired to create music again.  As I rewatch, I’m studying the complexities of Beyoncè’s music.  Also, fantasizing about how amazing it must feel to be in a band with Beyoncè.  She had people, some of whom look like me (!!!) playing the violin in the middle of all the festivities, and they rocked!  Yep.  I squeed so hard.

I love that Beyoncè has harnessed her superpowers to build others up.  Also, her leading superpower is hard work.  Beyoncè leads by example, and successfully demonstrated the same leadership skills I studied in Army training.  She gifted us with footage of her beautiful family, and herself unmasked.  I’m grateful whenever Beyoncè reminds us she’s human.  She’s continuously striving to be the best Beyoncè she can be, and it makes me want to be the best Alison I can be.

roller skates

Aside from clips with her children, my favorite part is when Solange joins her at the pyramid base, and they dance together.  It felt like the joyful moment with my sister, Heather, I’ve longed for since her passing.  It was sisterhood celebrated in a manner so healing to me.  I’m using my augmented morale to develop a new skill.  It entails installing a stop and think before allowing my pain to speak.

I don’t ever want to weaponize my pain.  I recognize I’ve made this mistake in the past.  I’ve lashed out and felt justified in my sloppy aim because I was injured.  It didn’t make it stop.  It just added guilt to the pain.  Fail.  I’m sorry to those I’ve hurt with hasty, ugly words.  New strategy:  Say, ow, when the pain hits.  Pause and think before saying anything further.  Focus on shaping the pain into something beautiful, (rather than allowing it to leak all willy nilly.)  Turn ow into wow.  Heh. (Too corny to trademark.) 🤭

I’m watching Game of Thrones in realtime for the first time.  It’s excruciatingly fabulous.  It feels like HBO is teasing me, but I don’t mind, because they’re also giving me candy, and there might be cake.  (Isn’t this how heroin works?)  Glued.  Also, I picked up on a hint to cease all speculative info dumping regarding the story.  (It was from a fellow autistic, but it still counts.  Maybe double.)  Ceased.  💪🏽🙃 I’m off to resume the adulting I’ve neglected, recently, (for some reason.)  ✌🏽💜

“Now, what are you going to do about my Twix?”

water droplet

Congratulations go out to Stevie Nicks and Janet Jackson; both inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  Stevie Nicks is now the first woman to be inducted twice.  Legendary, yo.  Watching her perform live was a bucket list moment for me.  I immediately put it back on the list, too.  (Please, sir.  I want some more.)  Fran recently put me on to Solange Knowles during The Friend Zone podcast, and I’m hooked whooked. 😆

I watched all the existing episodes of One Strange Rock on Netflix, recently.  It’s Will Smith hosting a show where eight astronauts talk about their experiences in space.  In doing so, they teach a lot about the earth and our universe.  It’s fabulous.  I watch documentaries often, but I learned some life-changing information that never once crossed my mind while watching and pondering.

I’m not ready to talk about it yet.  I need more time to process and translate into words.  I think everyone should see it.  It broadened my perspective in a manner that accepts the universe in all her glory.  It reminds me of Game of Thrones when Maester Aemon says, “Kill the boy and let the man be born.”  I feel a bit long in the tooth compared to Jon Snow, but it’s all relative, eh?  🤣

person in cave looking out

I’ve almost finished with my second viewing of HBO’s Westworld (seasons 1-2.)  I’m so impressed by it.  The attention to detail is astonishing.  The performances are excellent cast-wide.  The delivery of historically-accurate, and thus, often campy dialogue in a completely believable manner by so many actors is fabulous.  The costumes!  The production; as meticulously crafted as the world it portrays.  I’m so proud of the people who work on it.  It’s a shiny gem.  And that doesn’t even include the soundtrack, which is a significant part of the storytelling process.  Chills!

I had a scary low cognitive abilities day, recently.  I think I triggered it accidentally by blundering into a Chasm of Fascination.  I only meant to peek in, but I fell head first.  (I’m safely distant from the edge now.  Whew.)  Dimensional space speculation is dangerous ground for me.  I got deep in thought, and after several hours, I felt a bit stuck.  Then I panicked and tried to shift to practicing guitar.  Sadly, I merely held my guitar for a few hours while I thought more about dimensional space.

To function while in this state, I have to talk myself through everything.  To get a drink of water, I have to chant aloud, drink water, or I’ll lose a few more hours halfway through the process of fetching it.  It’s like being stuck between two worlds while trying to pay attention to both at the same time.  It takes all available resources to perform the simplest tasks.  These are the times when Amelia Bedelia is more service animal than companion pet.  She’ll persistently demand my presence until I claw my way back, (and she knows when I’m faking it with autopilot.)  I give her a treat each time.

I’m back to typical, today, but I’m still a bit disoriented time-wise.  It seems like this should be Friday, not Sunday.  (I believe the consensus regarding treatment for time disorientation is to tell someone about it. 👍🏽)  Shrill on Hulu is a super fun binge.  I can’t wait till they add more.  I’m off to read.  💜✌🏽

“For I have seen the nipple on your soul!”

why so curious?

I’m in a weird mood.  I’m having fun with it.  It’s probably vibrations of joy and contemplation from the recent Fleetwood Mac concert I attended.  It takes me a while to process everything I took in that night.  I’m also a bit stingy about sharing what I experienced.  (I’ll work on that.)  Here’s a gem:  After singing Gold Dust Woman, Stevie Nicks swirled into gold dust and faded to black.  The FX was so ingenious, I was compelled to turn and ask the nearest person, “Did you see that?!”  😆

I caught up on a few of my TV shows.  I can’t wait for season 6 of Grace and Frankie to begin (next year.)  I had a blast binge-watching it.  I started over with Westworld.  Season 3 airs soon, and I need at least one more viewing first.  The show is lush with depth and detail.  I’m learning so much about music from the soundtrack.  When I heard the instrumental cover of Nirvana’s Heart-Shaped Box by Ramin Djawadi, I gasped from being smacked by genius.  (It’s on Tidal.)

everything is connected

Now I need Amy Lee to record this song.  Just her and a magnificent grand piano of her choosing under a foggy spotlight.  And when you think it can’t get any better, enter Beyoncè singing the chorus and moving however the music takes her.  Their haunting harmonies on the next verse hold us hostage until Jay Z walks in and starts freestyling, and the beat surfaces and swells.

Freeze on a 360° image that slowly pans around, revealing all three artists in an intense moment of complete release.  Then resume at normal speed as they all meld into a beautiful, painful explosion of music so powerful it moves the world.  And finally, cut to me in the ER, and a doctor is yelling, clear!  Because my heart would explode like a heart-shaped box.  Heh.  Weird mood, indeed.  🙃

We got a fair amount of snow and some freezing rain on top.  It was knee-high on my balcony, yesterday.  Today it’s melting away, resulting in several icicles forming about a foot in front of (and above) the door.  The temptation to jump up and slap them away is more significant than I’m willing to admit this far into my forties.  Wait.  Dammit, ego!  Lay by your bowl!  I’d do it if not for the icy landing zone.  (I’m newly considerate of my hips years old.)  I’m off to band practice.  💜✌🏽