I'll Be Lightning and Punch

Two things I have been waiting for are reality now! One is Chis Thile's new CD, Punch. Well, actually, it's not just Chris anymore. The formerly named How To Grow a Band morphed into Punch Brothers, and released their debut album yesterday. Which I bought and listened to promptly. I had heard that Chris had written a four-movement suite about his divorce called The Blind Leaving the Blind, and had played it at Carnegie Hall, and was giddy to realize that Punch Brothers had included it on this album. If you're a fan of Chris' work in the past, I can say that Punch doesn't disappoint. It continues in its musical seriousness, leaning away from the acoustic bluegrass/rock niche that Nickel Creek had created, and instead creating a melting pot of classical, bluegrass, folk, and rock. Also, don't forget you've got some classic Thile wailing and good ol' timey bluegrass harmonies from everyone, though I'm personally partial to Gabe Witcher's vocal contributions.

The arrangement, composition, and performance on this album are incredible, and as a band it is clear to see why Chris brought them all together in the first place. It's just top notch musicianship, and an album that keeps growing on me the more I play it.

This is clearly a beginning for Punch Brothers, and with such a beginning I can't wait to a)hear more and b)see them live. Check out the first track off the album!


Punch Bowl- Punch Brothers


Second thing that I've been waiting for; seeing Liam Finn live in a week and a half!
I'm a huge fan of Neil Finn, Liam's father and former front man of Crowded House, but when I heard that Liam Finn had released a solo album, I'll Be Lightning, the first thought I had was,

"Hey...wasn't he part of the kiddie band on 7 Worlds Collide?"

So I yanked out the DVD, skipped ahead...and sure enough, Neil introduces his son's band, the famous Betchadupa. Of course, then, they looked like eleven year olds, but they could still rock. Especially with Eddie Vedder helping out!

Anyway, I got so excited over this, that I went straight out and bought the CD, and I can't say I regret it. It's fun, and sparkly, and not to box him in with his dad, but the influence is hard to miss. Unlike Neil, though, Liam brings a new freshness and edginess to his pop leanings, and I can't seem to get enough. Which is why I'm super psyched to go see him at the Hi Dive, one of my favorite venues, here soon. I recommend anyone looking for a good show to check it out!
Here's the single off I'll Be Lightning, Second Chance

Second Chance-Liam Finn

Garfield Minus Garfield

A mastermind took Garfield out of the Garfield strips and consequently made them ten times as hilarious!

Ex:


You can find a whole plethora of them here!

More Blind Than I Thought

My cousin and I dug around my parents old ski equipment and found some real gems. This is an example of the "intense skiing face."


The story so far;

The first day back in Colorado, my entire extended family shows up in a whirlwind of ski equipment and cliche, but well meant, exclamations (You look fabulous! Did you dye your hair? So I hear you're becoming a bum!). And the next few days were spent flying down slopes of new snow, making comic pratfalls the likes of which haven't been seen since the Three Stooges reigned. I snowboard, by the way, and was terrified that I had lost all skill since I had last gone (around the age of seventeen)so I took a lesson with my cousin Lauren. I noticed that our instructor was from Israel, a country that sparks my imagination. I imagine it to be some perfect representation of the Old World orthodox Jewish community. Oh, also a country full of superhuman fighters due to the mandatory two year military training everyone receives. Our instructor, Lanny, however has an American accent, told us to come back up to party for Spring Break (hangovers are helped by cold air and carving through new powder), and joked about parents who kept telling him to "grow up." Also, he was about two inches shorter than me, and pretty skinny.



My perceptions were totally off. What did I expect from someone from Israel? Some Hulk-sized dude wearing a yarmulke?

And that was lesson one of my first few days back. The other big one is that I shouldn't even bother making plans because God has made much more cosmically aligned ones already. I thought I was coming home to hang out and paint and play and write and sleep...but then...

my mom broke her ankle. Therefore, I will be filling in at the gym my parents own and training new employees often.

Trust me, I wanted to whine and cry and moan, but it can't be coincidence that I came home right when my parents needed me to. It's the difference between taking care of, and being taken care of.

This blog is sort of all over the place. I guess the whole point of it is...very rarely do my perceptions, preconceived notions, or plans ever really end up how I thought they would.

Also, I'll be right up front with you; I want to sell all I own and become a mountain-type bum.


The following song is what I've been listening to while writing this. And the album, The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place, is an amazing sonic trip. They don't use words to explain, so maybe I should just let them do their thing.

The First Breath After a Coma- Explosions in the Sky


And oh...right...on an unrelated musical tangent. Check out this incredible live recording of Jesus, Etc with Andrew Bird on violin during Wilco's five night stint in Chicago. No joke.

Jesus, Etc.- Wilco feat. Andrew Bird


One last thing. I watched the Oscars with the family and was so happy that the song from Once won over all those insipid Enchanted songs. Here's the lovely tune, played by Glen Hansard's band, The Frames.

Falling Slowly- The Frames


OK, now really, go do something else. I should!

That Fresh Feeling

So that's it! I'm doing it, finally. I'm taking a hiatus from stress, from the routine that has been slowly but surely sucking the me out of me. I'm going back to Colorado for a month. I am not dropping out, my professors are kind enough to let me continue reading and doing assignments without going to class (three semesters of not flaking are paying off). I decided this on Saturday, thought about it Sunday, talked with a couple people Monday, and booked the ticket today.

I was running this morning, and contemplating if I'm crazy at all for leaving (and barely telling anyone...it's a weird subject to bring up and doesn't seem permanent enough to call people for) for a month...and something about the fresh air and the sunrise waking up the world along with the sound of my thudding feet just...reminded me. Of how freedom feels and why it's important to feel it in a real, significant way. And I'm going to. I can't really explain why, except for that after feeling so horrible for so long, I'm ready to pick myself back up. I guess... I can explain it through a couple songs, as usual. One being the title of this blog, and a couple others that helped me make this really difficult decision to put my plan (which I've had for a long time) on hold and retreat for a while.

Fresh Feeling- Eels
Orchestral tunage and the buttery cello loop...delicious.


Jane- Aaron Roche
make friends with should have beens/ who love the sound of your voice


Kathleen- Josh Ritter
I don't think it's narcissism. At least, I hope not.


New Soul- Yael Naim





So there it is. I'll be traveling back on Thursday, and starting my month of using my membership at the Denver Art Museum, going up the mountains, writing letters, cooking, walking...you know, stuff that I forget that I like to do when I forget that I like life. And I'm definitely not ashamed to say that I really need to remind myself of that.

There are so few times in life that we're able to drop everything and gain something. Somehow the circumstances are all working out perfectly, and that is so encouraging. My flight is scheduled for Thursday afternoon, and I'm scheduled to return the day after Easter.

I think life might be quiet enough to listen to God in the stillness. I'm ready for that voice, and I know He's ready for me.

Honesty

Hey friends!

I am a big advocate of emotional honesty. You know, the kind where if I'm feeling terrible, I don't try to smack on a smile and end up feeling fake. Unfortunately, I'm a hypocrite and that's what I've been doing.

My biggest instinct right now is to run far away from everything I know and start over. There really isn't an overriding reason for this. Life seems to be all right. I have good grades, I have good friends, my family is awesome. But I don't have...me. At least, I don't see me very well. I know I've said on my MySpace blog that I've felt awkward before...I guess I don't feel awkward anymore, which is good, I just feel...like an ellipses I guess. Sort of like I'm trailing off.

I'm sort of on the edge of doing that very thing, running away. For someone who has always been pretty grounded and happy in reality, this is the most horrible feeling I've ever had. I don't know how to act around people, and I am terrified of letting anyone get to know me, because I'm convinced I'm going to be horrible.

I keep having the scary feeling that I'm fading away on the inside, and I don't want to end up filling myself with things that will only make me feel less alive. I wrote a song about this recently...and part of it goes; I love coffee because it makes me shake/ Like I used to when I was awake/And I know I should ask if you like the rain/Before stepping into your sunny place/ But I swear I'm not insane/ I'm just tired of turning your dirt into mud

When I was in high school, my aunt passed away because of an eating disorder. So, since I went to an all-girls school, my family and I organized sort of Emotional Awareness Day for everyone. We had speakers come in about eating disorders, emotional disorders, and even the gym teacher's wife came in and taught us some self-defense (I can now effectively break noses, knee caps...and other delicate appendages). During that time I remember thinking, and saying, that I hated how down some girls got on themselves, caring too much about the opinions of others. Seeing themselves through everyone else's eyes. I couldn't understand it.

Whoo...I get it now!

I've been trying to snap out of it. But I can't. I'm also trying not to dump on people, which I sincerely hope is working. I don't want to be a raincloud during an already gray winter.

I just thought that since I've heard a couple people ask where I've been recently...this is where I've been.

I have complete faith that it will get better. I certainly don't know when, and I don't feel like it will be soon. God willing I can make it through a little more until I can start to see why He put me here, and why He seems to like me so much.

Valen-times are Happy-times

Yes, yes, I know...it's so fashionable to be either really against Valentines Day, or really into it. I have to confess, after flip flopping for a long time...I'm not either. It's a day, and it's full of expectation, which is silly, but what's wrong with a day that condones the mass consumption of chocolate?

Tell me, really?

But a great way to spend Valentines Day is to listen to heart wrenchingly good music. So, for your listening pleasure, I've composed a Valentines Day mix. It's not about storybook love, or anything... it's those songs that describe every stage of love, from the unrequited to the ended, to the ridiculous. Understand...there are infinity songs out there, so to pick just a few almost hurts a little (time and bandwidth limitations), but here's a nice random sampling. (Honorable mention to; Fresh Feeling by Eels, Love You Madly by Cake, Harbor by Vienna Teng).

Valentines Day in Juarez- The Ike Reilly Assassination
Yesterday I smoked, today I don't.
Not very cheery, but still awesome.




Spit on a Stranger- Pavement
Honey I'm a prize, and you're a catch, and we're a perfect match.



You Left the Water Running- Otis Redding
The man can sing a good break up song. It moves the guts.




Wedding Day- Rosie Thomas
Falling in love with the world is definitely worth doing.



Foundations- Kate Nash
Clever, spunky, and a little bitter, and a great song. Kate, in her always cheeky way, tells of that time in a relationship when it can be harder to call it quits than to stay in a situation that isn't quite right. What an astute observation!



Sex Bomb- Tom Jones
It's not dirty, it's tastefully lurid.


On Ice- Chris Thile
This is off Chris' solo album Deceiver, written for his now ex-wife. In his lyrical (and musical) brilliance, Thile honestly talks about his own relationship insecurities and his mistake of running away from what he really wanted.



I'm Always in Love- Wilco
It was between this and I'm the Man Who Loves You. Wilco never fails to deliver a poignant, fun song. I always liked Summerteeth because it's fun and spunky, and this song so simply delivers its title. Yeah. I'm always in love.


I Know You By Heart- Eva Cassidy
When I first heard this song, it drove me to tears, really. Sixteen years old, and Cassidy got me to cry over the idea of losing love. Her voice is haunting, the melody is haunting, and it's all just beautiful.



The Promise- Michael Nyman
Sometimes no words are needed.



Songs of Love- Ben Folds
Off of the EP Supersunnyspeedgraphic, Ben Folds analyzes prepubescent love through the eyes of a musician. Spot on!


Anything You Want- Spoon
This song always jumps out at me from Girls Can Tell, but I do have that theory that the sixth track on any album is bound to be good. I don't know why, but Spoon proves me right in this ditty about that someone that never leaves your brain no matter how hard you try.


Wading in the Velvet Sea- Phish
OK, so this song has some significance given that it is the first song anyone has ever played for me, but it's still right on in all of its lyrical simplicity. Wait through the super long intro, and you will be rewarded.



Ophelia- The Band
They've got soul, and in my opinion, what some of these heartache ballads need is a little more of that.



Young- Nickel Creek
OK, so I feel bad putting a Chris Thile and Nickel Creek song on here, but Young is a much-overlooked song about why does everything have to be so serious? It's not like I want to get married/ I never asked you to kiss me/Just don't want you to be sorry you didn't try. Everyone has those times that we realize we just take everything so darn seriously, and sometimes it's just time to let go!



Hard to Get- Rich Mullins
This happens to be my personal Valentines Day Song, because everything ends up coming back to my love with God, and honestly...it's the relationship I abuse and can't figure out the most. Rich understands. He always understands. Also, this is the demo version off his The Jesus Record, and it is much less finished than the produced track. It's just Rich in a church with his guitar and a mic. Powerful. Still I'm so scared/ I'm holding my breath/ While you're up there just playing hard to get.



Wonderwall- Ryan Adams
Originally an Oasis song, yes, but I prefer the nitty gritty Love is Hell version that Ryan Adams put out. The original is most often put on Luv Mixes to significant others, so I love the context of Ryan's Wonderwall, in the midst of an album laden with rainy day, hit the bottom reflections.


And, well, there you go. My Valentines Mix 2008. I hope you have a delightful day full of love, whatever kind of love it is. Love for you, love for someone else, love for love, you choose!

Living in Extremes

Thinking too much...it's something I've been accused of a lot in my lifetime. The first time I remember being told I let my brain do too much wandering and exploring was when I was in kindergarten, and it was cold outside.

Let it be said that I hate the cold. Anything under forty degrees and I practically refuse to leave the heated building I am so fortunate to call home.

Anyway, I was in kindergarten and my teacher, who I can't remember the name of, but who worked at Target and always gave me an employee discount when I went to buy barretes on sale, told me to put on my snow suit and go outside. I, instead of putting on the cushy onesie, looked at her and said (apparently), "No, I don't like the cold, and I don't want to go outside. I want to play inside." My teacher...I think her name started with an 'R' the more I think about it, told me that I had to go outside or keep learning. It's no surprise to me that I chose to stay inside. So I learned how to read. That whole entire kindergarten winter Ms. R taught me how to read while my friends would go outside into the frigid Chicago winter amidst the blackened city snow and play dodgeball. I don't regret a single second.

My brother, though, told me around that age that I analyzed things too much. I thought that was stupid at the time. Probably because as a six year old, I thought my brother was the stupidest person ever to exist. What six year old doesn't? Except for when he chased down those bullies with the double-gallon Super Soakers, he seemed to live to steal my stuffed animals and play nothing but Hootie and the Blowfish too loudly. So there was my prognosis as given by my then fourteen year old brother, I analyzed too much.

Dear God, if I analyzed too much at the age of six, what kind of malcontent am I now?

But it's true, I do. I just finished rereading High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, which centers around Rob Fleming, who is a classic over-analyzer. I really relate to him. There is a quote in that book that resounds with me.

"It seems to me that if you place music (and books, probably, and films and plays, and anything that makes you feel) at the center of your being, then you can't afford to sort out your love life, start to think of it as the finished product. You've got to pick at it, keep it alive and in turmoil, and you're compelled to start it all over again. Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional thing all day, and as a consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid, relationship."

I mean, holy cow, I pick away at little details in life constantly. And maybe that's the curse of our modern world; we have too much to pick away at and too much time to do it in. I spend a good chunk of my time reading about people who live in extremes, or listening to songs about extremes. I don't know if I've ever heard a song with these lyrics:

Life's up and down/ It's all right/ I met a guy last night/ The conversation was vaguely awkward over one too many beers/ That I drank just to loosen the mood/ We went dutch to show that we didn't want too much commitment/ When we held hands it was sweaty/ Conversation was about what we had in common/ Which didn't seem to matter/ I'm out ten bucks and whatever a medium latte costs

Granted, if there was a song with those lyrics, it should be resigned to the Land of Horrible Lyricists, but you get the idea. The poor unfortunate over-thinkers, those who spend the time reading and listening and creating, want everything to be as fulfilling as those few brilliant moments we find the right notes and the right words. And those notes stay there. Those words stay there. They are, in a sense, eternal. No one is going to come round and flick those notes from the song we wrote, or delete the words that we typed (unless you have a real, professional editor). I think everyone has this; their momentary high. And many, including me, just want that high to go on. Because that's what feels so darn right, that sense of completion and fulfillment.

Unlike in real human relationships, where in one moment a person can leave and make you feel like everything you worked at was just not quite enough. Or, arguably worse since it's not extreme, you can fall into life's ho-hum routine and look around one morning and think, "crap, what am I doing?" Control has been lost to the everyday cycle, an ancient, boring rhythm that traps us. All the excitement of a relationship can be sucked out, friendships can become only safety nets, and what was once fulfilling work can be only something to do during the day.

When we (I) try to live in extremes, it ends up feeling like we're (I'm) failing most of the time, because real life doesn't happen in extremes. It happens in the small, satisfactory moments of the day. Waking up on time, the end of a long run when your legs feel like they don't particularly care to observe the laws of gravity, at the last sentence of a book when the last word resonates like a bell ringing, or the blissful hour spent in the company of an album that stirs your bowels. Not so extreme, but certainly nice.

Yes, I over-analyze. I admit it. I pick things, and people, apart into bite-size pieces because I can't seem to handle too much. But the only cure I can possibly imagine is what I mentioned above; not letting my momentary highs get in the way of human experience. So I can actually experience what it is to be human, as so many have been trying to do since Adam first clubbed a Mastodon. Let's try it out, yes?

Sail to the Moon

Except for the cobwebs of the sky are going to be spun very thickly coming February 20! Check it out, and then...check it out!

Thumbs Up or Out?

It's a lazy Saturday morning, and I thought I would write a lazy blog while listening to lazy music with my guitar on my lap, occasionally playing lazy chord progressions along with the music, disregarding the frequent need for a capo.

It's snowing outside, and for once I am actually happy about it. Snow can be horrible sometimes; it can be fast and wet, stinging your eyes and biting through even the most hardy layers of fleece and wool, or it can be dry and thick, choking the air so any attempt to walk ends up in tripping over yourself or someone you didn't see until they were six inches away from you.

This snow is snowglobe snow. Big, fat, lethargic puffs of white drifting down from the clouds, almost reluctant to reach the ground where they seem to know they will be trampled and salted and compressed into disgusting piles of gray sludge.

From the first few paragraphs, I think I've almost convinced myself that I'm not stir-crazy. But that's a lie. I am so incredibly stir-crazy, and I think I have been for a long time. I know so many people who are content to stay in one place forever, and I envy them. I am not that way. Maybe it comes from two significant moves when I was growing up, or that I spent all my summers away from home, tramping around the Rockies.

It could even be genetic. My mom took a semester off college to go live in Colorado, where she knew no one, and work at a ski resort. I have a sweater knit in 1969 to prove that escapade. My dad got out of his hometown in Waymouth, Massachusetts because he didn't want to end up like everyone in his hometown; working at the factory and never leaving the house they grew up in.

Genetic, environmental, or spiritual...all I know is that I spend a good chunk of my time dreaming of the places I could live. I've had many wise people tell me to be happy wherever I am, and I'm certainly trying. The problem is...

I'm not that wise.

I'm restless. The inner peace that makes a person's eyes light up with warmth, and their shoulders relax, and their posture become welcoming...well, I haven't necessarily felt that for a significant amount of time yet. Sure, I'll get snippets, when I'm playing guitar, or writing, or reading, or eating with friends, or sprawled out on warm grass in the summer with three stereos playing This Side or Takk simultaneously...but I haven't been able to sustain that peace.

My heart is still jumping out of my chest at the thought of adventure, of far off places, and creating my own future.

Living in the moment, without thinking about the next one, is a huge challenge. I just need the world to stop spinning so madly so I can find that inner quiet without my head traveling without my body to Seattle, New York, Florence, London, Prague, Portland, Santa Fe, Wellington, Zurich, Sydney, Bordeaux, and everywhere else.

On a snowy day like today, I at least feel content to be in my little mountain snowglobe, watching from the inside, and holding on to the peace that the world tries so hard to distract me from.

The Headphones

So I really recently started listening to Pedro the Lion's former creative fire; David Bazan. His Pandora station has in fact been mostly what I've enjoyed for a couple weeks now. So I decided to explore some more, and I stumbled across The Headphones, his synth-based side project that sounds as though Pedro the Lion and Postal Service had a beautiful love child together, but it grew up as a fan of the Flaming Lips.

Different from the sound that I was used to, being an old Pedro fan and a new solo David fan, but definitely awesome. Their self-titled album, released almost three years ago, is definitely worth a listen.

Content-wise, the album is much more rooted in relatable experiences. For instance, in the song I put below Pink and Brown;


all the stolen kisses all the pink and brown/if you want to end it you just pull the plug and shut it down/no one sees it coming but every body knows/if you want the money then just have to take it/or you'll never make it

Listen.

Bonnaroo-hoo!!

Bonnaroo 2008 artist list is up! And oh...boy...check out the full list for yourself, but let me share some personal favorites:

Pearl Jam
Robert Plant and Alison Krauss
My Morning Jacket
Rilo Kiley
Ben Folds
Sigur Ros
BB King
Death Cab for Cutie
Iron and Wine
Yonder Mountain String Band
Mason Jennings
Bela Fleck
The Raconteurs
Jakob Dylan
Minus the Bear

Not to mention David Cross is once more making a comedic appearance (and maybe doing some more impromptu dancing?), and so is Janeane Garofalo.


Can't wait for Feb. 16, when you can bet I'll be buying my tickets. Nashville is going to be a sweet sound-escape in June!

Go kick its ash

"What I do, I do not understand. For I do not do what I want, but I do what I hate...The willing is ready at hand, but doing the good is not. For I do not do the good I want, but I do the evil I do not want...Miserable one that I am! Who will deliver me from this mortal body? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord."
-Romans 7: 15, 18b-19, 24-25

Happy Ash Wednesday! The joyful day when we're reminded of our impending mortality, and its effect on us. But...let's set aside the "Jesus now enters the desert for 40 days and probably craves bacon" portion of today, and I'd like to share my musings on the bible verse above. It was mentioned in the mass today, and it caught my ear.

I'm not one to take the Bible out of context (see: Kathleen's Pet Peeves), but this pretty much speaks for itself. It's not even a particularly revolutionary message. It is basically;

WHY CAN'T I GET SOMETHING RIGHT FOR ONCE? A;LCNE;OIHAO4EHTAOHLAN;LN!!!

Sincerely,
Paul, #1 Reformed Bully and Telemarketer for God

I took some comfort in that knowledge; that a guy who had literally been struck with holy lightning couldn't get it through his skull to just do the right thing, yahwehdammit! Perfection has never been the aim of Christianity. If this passage doesn't say that loud and clear, the gospels definitely should. But modern Christianity holds its nose high and lofty, giving off the impression, "No thanks, I've got this one all held down...now fall in line."

Really? If perfection was the aim of Christianity, then why on Earth would Earth still be as broken as it is? Some of the most devout Christians I know hold their "imperfections" at bay, refusing to take responsibility for them or let others see them, so instead of moving on, they hold on to that horrible faker of progress; guilt.

Guilt (see; Kathleen's Pet Peeves), has to be one of the most useless things out there. It's the ego's way of tricking us into thinking we're making progress, all the while bogging us down in everything that is selfish. Paul got that. He was saying, again, "I accept that I suck."

Awesome.

Here's my dream for the post-modern Church (don't ask denomination, Church is Church);

A total and complete love of being imperfect. The permanent lowering of the nostrils of judgment, and the total turn outward. The official end to beating ourselves up on the inside while maintaining an air of "I'm so together I'm practically threegether" (that was bad, but I'm sticking with it) on the outside.

Paul admitted his struggle with doing the most basic right for all of posterity, and I hope that I can open my heart enough to admit this struggle to myself, and to give it up. Another phrase that I brush over...but that's it. I give up! Instead of giving something up this Lent, I'm going to try to give myself up; because I too easily agree with Paul that I never end up doing what I wanted to do. There's one reason for this; I'm irreversibly human. Maybe 40 days will be a good amount of time to process that imperfection and embrace it...

Maybe I should get a bolt of lighting, after all?

Dream Brother

So I decided to settle down with a new book for a while, after my foray into the world of classic novels and theological musings. I decided to tickle my musical itch, and read about the lives and deaths of Jeff and Tim Buckley. I've been a Jeff Buckley fan for a while now, Grace playing very frequently from my speakers, but I never gave Tim Buckley a listen until I cracked this book. A little on the bizarre side, but definitely worth a listen.

I don't think I've ever spent as much time on search engines while reading a book as I have with this one. There are songs I wanted to look up, and more background information I needed to have after reading certain parts.

One of my favorite bloggers reviewed this book a couple years ago, which sparked my interest first, because she provided links to Jeff's live performance at his father's memorial service. His voice is powerful enough without the emotional significance or explanation, but because I wanted to be an even bigger dork, when I got to the part about his performance at that concert, I turned on the tracks that I had downloaded.

I really recommend doing this.

If you're into any of the following; biographies, music, the Buckleys, reading...I would highly recommend this book. It sheds some light on the people behind the incredible music. If you know me personally, I'd be happy to hand over the book. Otherwise, do it the old-fashioned way!

Wearing circles in the floor

Question: What happens when a person picks up their old check book from a bank back in Colorado and accidentally uses it six times?
Answer: A lot of guilt and frantic phone calls to establishments probably sharpening their financial pitchforks.

I feel as though I'm so absent-minded sometimes that I will one day fall into an open manhole and never be found again. It's concerning, really. I forget to call people five minutes after I told them I would call them right back. I put down my keys when I walk into a room, and have to spend twenty minutes figuring out where the heck I put them. My purses are battlefields when it comes to me trying to remember where I put my Chapstick (which is of vital importance).

Lent starts this Wednesday, and I've been searching for something to do for this season of renewal. I wish I could give up forgetting everything...but I am increasingly suspicious that it's a part of my personality.

Where is the line between who we are and habits? Is my forgetfulness some God-given trait, or can it be dropped or mastered? It's interesting to me when someone says "It's just who I am." That statement feels like a cop-out in so many situations. If we feel like we have to explain something away with that tricky sentence, then maybe it's not who we are. Maybe it's some alien habit or trait that requires rationalization to exist.

My forgetfulness is hopefully one of those temporary residences in my psyche that God never intended me to harbor, who I can push out with some discipline. At least, that's what I'll be telling myself in the hopes of one day being able to find my keys before I lose my mind.