Entry: Las Vegas
(lôs vāɡ’əs)
Of Overpopulated English. Geonoun.
1. A much-too-expensive electric bill.
1(a). A much-too-expensive everything bill.
2. Prime escapist masking of unhappiness, rejection, and self-loathing.
3. A buffet table of the world’s best buffet tables.
4. The inspiration to introverted solitude upon departure.
When you
are alone,
the world’s left you
behind, don’t you find that
Lonely
ain’t kind.
You’ve got your
freedom you want
to hold on to. Don’t you
know… don’t
you know
someone should
hold on to you?
Hold on to you… Hold on
to you.
I can’t
see what’s been
keeping you from
me. You got kicked around,
found a
lonely
sound. Darling,
Please pick yourself
up off the ground, so I
can hold
on to
you, hold on
to you, hold on
to you, darling, when you’re
Alone.
Lyrics by B. Wolff,
Arrangement by B. Rider
It’s the simple things that keep this life pleasant – like a musical crescendo to satisfaction. If these things were looped to crescendo forever, I’d have zero complaints.
1. Hearing a song I used to love and completely forgot about. Recently: “Fernando,” by ABBA. I then fell down a rabbit hole which revealed that Benny Andersson is still putting out music! If all my favorite artists could just suddenly resurrect ten years from now, I’d be okay with it. “If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend.”
2. The sound of a baseball smacking a bat. Not the other way around, and whether it’s destined to be a home run or not. Yes, there’s a degree of nostalgia, probably, but still.
3. Seeing someone walking alone randomly smile at their phone. I’ve done this while alone in public, and there’s something about that feeling of being unable to hold in that smile because I don’t want to look like a loony. Pure pleasure. I’d wish that particular smile on anybody.
4. Wildflowers across the fields of Texas when spring arrives. Likewise, the first really wintery day of the year. Just bring me some very grassy daisies and buy me a new coat, and I’ll love you forever.
5. Hearing that my friends landed a desirable gig. Even better: hearing that my favesies band from another state landed a desirable gig in my town and I finally get to see them play live. AND they’re sharing a bill with more friends of mine. To make this paragraph even longer: finding new music, stumbling across a new band, and then finding out that they’re going to be in my town later that month, is the best in the world. Totes meant to be.
6. Getting to visit little-known vinyl/book stores. Maybe it’s the things I’ve filled my newsfeeds with… but hearing about such great, semi-invisible indie book and music stores and then finally getting to visit them in real life is the literal best.
7. Late-night showings at off-the-beaten-path movie theaters. It’s like I get the whooooole couch AND the remote to myself. Even better if I’m lucky enough to score a long-distance movie buddy and our cities are showing the same thing at the same time. Group text has never been more fun.
8. Turning a corner and being faced with something I didn’t realize I was going to get to see that day. Like stepping into a new room at a museum and being smacked in the face with a work by my favesies artist. Or, waking up in a new city and realizing that you’re literally across the street from the best music school in America. And then, being unable to move.
9. Coming home to a clean house after a trip. Even if I have to stay up late the night before a flight, cleaning my house so I can come back to a clean space is one-hundred-percent worth it.
10. Eating dessert out of a stemmed wine glass. Here’s my life hack gift to you: Bake something that’s yummy when it’s warm (brownies, cupcakes, muffins, cookies, basically everything (realized that after I opened that parenthetical comment)). Scoop a few forkfuls of your warm yummy into a wine glass, or champagne flute, if you’re real fancy. Scoop some ice cream on top of that. If you’re so inclined, pour a little wine over your fruity yummy, or a little Scotch over your chocolate yummy. It’s basically like getting away with ALL the things… and SO yummy.
And on Wednesdays with dates containing strobogrammatic numbers, we write.
While out with a friend of mine this past holiday, the topic of blogging came up within conversation. Though our shared brunch proved to be a worthy distraction, I came to a realization that is about to change one of my oldest defining characteristics as a person. Some years ago, I began blogging for several reasons, some reasons a mere variation of others… Today marks the first day that I choose to say that I blog for very different reasons than the ones that originally set me down this path.
Perhaps the most cliché blogging excuse is my oldest one (naturally). As a one-and-twenty female who had been through more than her share of learning experiences, I felt driven to see if journaling was as therapeutic as therapists say. It’s my fear and anticipation of disruption and confrontation that keeps me from being the strong communicator that I once was; when I first began to write, I basked in the idea of being able to spit anonymously, having control over who could be affected by the things that I thought. Waverly At Dawn has since become a little less anonymous (don’t worry, entries have been changed to protect the innocent), but I’m not so desperate to “spit” as often.
As a self-proclaimed non-writer, I also wondered if I could actually write. While in grade school, I discovered quite the disdain for creative writing assignments – not because I didn’t want to write, but because I could never figure out what to write about. In another sense, as a musician with some extremely talented songwriters as role models, I have zero confidence in my lyricism, and for the same reason. I not only never know what to write about, but I also have the worst of times trying to put any thought into the right combination of words (unless there’s rules, like the fun ones that helped me write Repeat.). I’ve since learned that this is something that exactly 100% of the other writers in this world struggle with, at least once. So much for THAT excuse.
While running around as a newly active member within the arts community in the city in which I was living, I began to recognize the impact that a good write-up can have on an artist’s renown and potential opportunities. I am an INTJ with a personality profile of a “Companion,” and I am most fulfilled when I find myself in a position to help somebody else reach their goals. This passion was almost immediately manifested into my sister blog, a bookish blog that I use to help authors market their writing (ironically enough). I am also currently working on my inaugural music review entry for my new arts review blog – stay tuned for that one. If I haven’t been one for opinionating, I’ve been forced to move closer to it.
All this to say, I no longer can honestly state, “I can’t write, I’m no good with words,” like I’m so used to saying. Writing is therapeutic, and writer’s block is a real thing. But, I can write. I know some great words, and I like to use them. I am a writer.
A mere personal challenge born from a desire to change a state of being is all it takes to inspire kinetic movement.
Entry: city limits
(sit’ē lim’itz)
Of Outed English. Geonoun.
1. The physical point beyond which all responsibility fades into the cloud of smog behind you.
2. A favorite party house for remote, incandescent balls of gas similar in nature to the sun.
3. A motivating force behind music blastation.
Waverly At Dawn 