sandmansister: (BtVS - Hard on themselves)
Great lyric, but I'm not sure it's true.

Lest anyone worry, there are no deep ends in my immediate vicinity; I'm nowhere near going off one. I just have a surfeit of emotion going on lately and need to wrap my brain/heart around it. For all that I am a passionate creature, I am paradoxically freaked by strong emotion. And as I've come to learn, the things we do to avoid feeling bad tend to leave us far more damaged and worse off than just feeling the badness would.

So in no particular order, I am going to purge the things that are making me crazy/sad/mad/hurt/crazy-oh-wait-I-
already-said-crazy:

  • My job. Didn't even get in 20 hours this week due to administrivia fubar. I'll get paid next week and it will be more than unemployment, but not much. Also, just dealing with change of working from home and trying to develop a routine that won't be so routine that it drives me nuts, but provides the structure I need to be a productive and health-seeking member of society.

  • My job. Again. Apparently in order to get the contract, the company had to make some cuts, which is why I'm getting $3/hr less. But at least as a team lead I am budgeted for 40 hrs/wk for the whole project. Senior IDs? Not so much. I don't like that this was a surprise to them and my project manager. Feels shady, and I don't want to lose good people because of it. I'm already one person short on my team. Project manager is appropriately appalled and working on a fix, but... meh.

  • Being a girl. This is one of those times when I distinctly don't enjoy being a girl. Stupid hormones. Stupid hormones triggering headaches.

  • Jimmy. It was 5 years ago Tuesday that he left us. We're all healing from the loss, but there are still scars and a Jimmy-shaped hole in my heart. It's not crippling or debilitating anymore, but I just plain love and miss my friend.

  • My birthday. Usually, I love any reason to celebrate. I think that any reason to be happy, we should grab and and milk it for all it's worth. Except that I am totally Meh about my birthday this year. I don't mind getting older (for the most part); having a brush with my mortality last year makes it very clear that it's far superior to the alternative. However, I had an idea for a low-key but fun celebration—a slumber party for a few of my favorite girls to relax and be silly together. Except the NBA All-Star game is in Dallas this year and there's nary a hotel room to be found. And it's the only date folks could find to have a baby shower for some dear friends. And SAPA orientation. And stuff. It just makes me a little pouty that my day got co-opted by everyone else's life. I get it, and don't begrudge anyone anything. But there's some pout nonetheless, and I am just Meh about the whole birthday thing.


    OK, I *might* get out of this funk and go to Panoptikon tonight... weather and 'splody head permitting. But Meh anyway.

  • My car. Got a flat earlier this week. Need to get tire fixed; hoping it can be fixed. Dreading to hear, "you need all new tires or you're gonna DIE!" (See aforementioned comment about lack of hours this week.) I know, I know. It's dumb to borrow trouble when I don't know the answer. My brain is clever enough to realize that; organs south of the brain aren't nearly clever enough.

  • My computer. Laptop took a little tumble from the couch to the tile floor. It's OK, but the power cable? Not so much. Or to be more specific, the spot where it plugs in is a little bent and can't connect to stay charged. And because I am dumb, the spreadsheet I need to finish my taxes and get my refund (about $500) is on the desktop on the broken laptop. Gnar.


  • Really, I guess I could group a lot of those things under Stupid Money as a sub-heading. Things could be (and have been) worse, but it's just one more layer of insecurity in this weird layered parfait of my stress.

    A lot of it, I'm sure, is change-related. Even change for the better is stressful. And I have been feeling a slow but epic shift in the tectonic plates of my life. Exciting? Maybe. Terrifying? Absolutely.

    But for now, it's manifesting as a case of the sads. I hugged on [livejournal.com profile] arbiter_of_cool and let him know I'm a little wobbly and in need of more snugs and cuddles in the days to come. It will pass, of course, but I am trying to feel it instead of bury it. Hopefully this purge will make it a little easier to move through it.
    sandmansister: (BtVS - Hard on themselves)
    Great lyric, but I'm not sure it's true.

    Lest anyone worry, there are no deep ends in my immediate vicinity; I'm nowhere near going off one. I just have a surfeit of emotion going on lately and need to wrap my brain/heart around it. For all that I am a passionate creature, I am paradoxically freaked by strong emotion. And as I've come to learn, the things we do to avoid feeling bad tend to leave us far more damaged and worse off than just feeling the badness would.

    So in no particular order, I am going to purge the things that are making me crazy/sad/mad/hurt/crazy-oh-wait-I-
    already-said-crazy:

  • My job. Didn't even get in 20 hours this week due to administrivia fubar. I'll get paid next week and it will be more than unemployment, but not much. Also, just dealing with change of working from home and trying to develop a routine that won't be so routine that it drives me nuts, but provides the structure I need to be a productive and health-seeking member of society.

  • My job. Again. Apparently in order to get the contract, the company had to make some cuts, which is why I'm getting $3/hr less. But at least as a team lead I am budgeted for 40 hrs/wk for the whole project. Senior IDs? Not so much. I don't like that this was a surprise to them and my project manager. Feels shady, and I don't want to lose good people because of it. I'm already one person short on my team. Project manager is appropriately appalled and working on a fix, but... meh.

  • Being a girl. This is one of those times when I distinctly don't enjoy being a girl. Stupid hormones. Stupid hormones triggering headaches.

  • Jimmy. It was 5 years ago Tuesday that he left us. We're all healing from the loss, but there are still scars and a Jimmy-shaped hole in my heart. It's not crippling or debilitating anymore, but I just plain love and miss my friend.

  • My birthday. Usually, I love any reason to celebrate. I think that any reason to be happy, we should grab and and milk it for all it's worth. Except that I am totally Meh about my birthday this year. I don't mind getting older (for the most part); having a brush with my mortality last year makes it very clear that it's far superior to the alternative. However, I had an idea for a low-key but fun celebration—a slumber party for a few of my favorite girls to relax and be silly together. Except the NBA All-Star game is in Dallas this year and there's nary a hotel room to be found. And it's the only date folks could find to have a baby shower for some dear friends. And SAPA orientation. And stuff. It just makes me a little pouty that my day got co-opted by everyone else's life. I get it, and don't begrudge anyone anything. But there's some pout nonetheless, and I am just Meh about the whole birthday thing.


    OK, I *might* get out of this funk and go to Panoptikon tonight... weather and 'splody head permitting. But Meh anyway.

  • My car. Got a flat earlier this week. Need to get tire fixed; hoping it can be fixed. Dreading to hear, "you need all new tires or you're gonna DIE!" (See aforementioned comment about lack of hours this week.) I know, I know. It's dumb to borrow trouble when I don't know the answer. My brain is clever enough to realize that; organs south of the brain aren't nearly clever enough.

  • My computer. Laptop took a little tumble from the couch to the tile floor. It's OK, but the power cable? Not so much. Or to be more specific, the spot where it plugs in is a little bent and can't connect to stay charged. And because I am dumb, the spreadsheet I need to finish my taxes and get my refund (about $500) is on the desktop on the broken laptop. Gnar.


  • Really, I guess I could group a lot of those things under Stupid Money as a sub-heading. Things could be (and have been) worse, but it's just one more layer of insecurity in this weird layered parfait of my stress.

    A lot of it, I'm sure, is change-related. Even change for the better is stressful. And I have been feeling a slow but epic shift in the tectonic plates of my life. Exciting? Maybe. Terrifying? Absolutely.

    But for now, it's manifesting as a case of the sads. I hugged on [livejournal.com profile] arbiter_of_cool and let him know I'm a little wobbly and in need of more snugs and cuddles in the days to come. It will pass, of course, but I am trying to feel it instead of bury it. Hopefully this purge will make it a little easier to move through it.
    sandmansister: (BtVS - Hard on themselves)
    Great lyric, but I'm not sure it's true.

    Lest anyone worry, there are no deep ends in my immediate vicinity; I'm nowhere near going off one. I just have a surfeit of emotion going on lately and need to wrap my brain/heart around it. For all that I am a passionate creature, I am paradoxically freaked by strong emotion. And as I've come to learn, the things we do to avoid feeling bad tend to leave us far more damaged and worse off than just feeling the badness would.

    So in no particular order, I am going to purge the things that are making me crazy/sad/mad/hurt/crazy-oh-wait-I-
    already-said-crazy:

  • My job. Didn't even get in 20 hours this week due to administrivia fubar. I'll get paid next week and it will be more than unemployment, but not much. Also, just dealing with change of working from home and trying to develop a routine that won't be so routine that it drives me nuts, but provides the structure I need to be a productive and health-seeking member of society.

  • My job. Again. Apparently in order to get the contract, the company had to make some cuts, which is why I'm getting $3/hr less. But at least as a team lead I am budgeted for 40 hrs/wk for the whole project. Senior IDs? Not so much. I don't like that this was a surprise to them and my project manager. Feels shady, and I don't want to lose good people because of it. I'm already one person short on my team. Project manager is appropriately appalled and working on a fix, but... meh.

  • Being a girl. This is one of those times when I distinctly don't enjoy being a girl. Stupid hormones. Stupid hormones triggering headaches.

  • Jimmy. It was 5 years ago Tuesday that he left us. We're all healing from the loss, but there are still scars and a Jimmy-shaped hole in my heart. It's not crippling or debilitating anymore, but I just plain love and miss my friend.

  • My birthday. Usually, I love any reason to celebrate. I think that any reason to be happy, we should grab and and milk it for all it's worth. Except that I am totally Meh about my birthday this year. I don't mind getting older (for the most part); having a brush with my mortality last year makes it very clear that it's far superior to the alternative. However, I had an idea for a low-key but fun celebration—a slumber party for a few of my favorite girls to relax and be silly together. Except the NBA All-Star game is in Dallas this year and there's nary a hotel room to be found. And it's the only date folks could find to have a baby shower for some dear friends. And SAPA orientation. And stuff. It just makes me a little pouty that my day got co-opted by everyone else's life. I get it, and don't begrudge anyone anything. But there's some pout nonetheless, and I am just Meh about the whole birthday thing.


    OK, I *might* get out of this funk and go to Panoptikon tonight... weather and 'splody head permitting. But Meh anyway.

  • My car. Got a flat earlier this week. Need to get tire fixed; hoping it can be fixed. Dreading to hear, "you need all new tires or you're gonna DIE!" (See aforementioned comment about lack of hours this week.) I know, I know. It's dumb to borrow trouble when I don't know the answer. My brain is clever enough to realize that; organs south of the brain aren't nearly clever enough.

  • My computer. Laptop took a little tumble from the couch to the tile floor. It's OK, but the power cable? Not so much. Or to be more specific, the spot where it plugs in is a little bent and can't connect to stay charged. And because I am dumb, the spreadsheet I need to finish my taxes and get my refund (about $500) is on the desktop on the broken laptop. Gnar.


  • Really, I guess I could group a lot of those things under Stupid Money as a sub-heading. Things could be (and have been) worse, but it's just one more layer of insecurity in this weird layered parfait of my stress.

    A lot of it, I'm sure, is change-related. Even change for the better is stressful. And I have been feeling a slow but epic shift in the tectonic plates of my life. Exciting? Maybe. Terrifying? Absolutely.

    But for now, it's manifesting as a case of the sads. I hugged on [livejournal.com profile] arbiter_of_cool and let him know I'm a little wobbly and in need of more snugs and cuddles in the days to come. It will pass, of course, but I am trying to feel it instead of bury it. Hopefully this purge will make it a little easier to move through it.
    sandmansister: (BtVS - Hard on themselves)
    Great lyric, but I'm not sure it's true.

    Lest anyone worry, there are no deep ends in my immediate vicinity; I'm nowhere near going off one. I just have a surfeit of emotion going on lately and need to wrap my brain/heart around it. For all that I am a passionate creature, I am paradoxically freaked by strong emotion. And as I've come to learn, the things we do to avoid feeling bad tend to leave us far more damaged and worse off than just feeling the badness would.

    So in no particular order, I am going to purge the things that are making me crazy/sad/mad/hurt/crazy-oh-wait-I-
    already-said-crazy:

  • My job. Didn't even get in 20 hours this week due to administrivia fubar. I'll get paid next week and it will be more than unemployment, but not much. Also, just dealing with change of working from home and trying to develop a routine that won't be so routine that it drives me nuts, but provides the structure I need to be a productive and health-seeking member of society.

  • My job. Again. Apparently in order to get the contract, the company had to make some cuts, which is why I'm getting $3/hr less. But at least as a team lead I am budgeted for 40 hrs/wk for the whole project. Senior IDs? Not so much. I don't like that this was a surprise to them and my project manager. Feels shady, and I don't want to lose good people because of it. I'm already one person short on my team. Project manager is appropriately appalled and working on a fix, but... meh.

  • Being a girl. This is one of those times when I distinctly don't enjoy being a girl. Stupid hormones. Stupid hormones triggering headaches.

  • Jimmy. It was 5 years ago Tuesday that he left us. We're all healing from the loss, but there are still scars and a Jimmy-shaped hole in my heart. It's not crippling or debilitating anymore, but I just plain love and miss my friend.

  • My birthday. Usually, I love any reason to celebrate. I think that any reason to be happy, we should grab and and milk it for all it's worth. Except that I am totally Meh about my birthday this year. I don't mind getting older (for the most part); having a brush with my mortality last year makes it very clear that it's far superior to the alternative. However, I had an idea for a low-key but fun celebration—a slumber party for a few of my favorite girls to relax and be silly together. Except the NBA All-Star game is in Dallas this year and there's nary a hotel room to be found. And it's the only date folks could find to have a baby shower for some dear friends. And SAPA orientation. And stuff. It just makes me a little pouty that my day got co-opted by everyone else's life. I get it, and don't begrudge anyone anything. But there's some pout nonetheless, and I am just Meh about the whole birthday thing.


    OK, I *might* get out of this funk and go to Panoptikon tonight... weather and 'splody head permitting. But Meh anyway.

  • My car. Got a flat earlier this week. Need to get tire fixed; hoping it can be fixed. Dreading to hear, "you need all new tires or you're gonna DIE!" (See aforementioned comment about lack of hours this week.) I know, I know. It's dumb to borrow trouble when I don't know the answer. My brain is clever enough to realize that; organs south of the brain aren't nearly clever enough.

  • My computer. Laptop took a little tumble from the couch to the tile floor. It's OK, but the power cable? Not so much. Or to be more specific, the spot where it plugs in is a little bent and can't connect to stay charged. And because I am dumb, the spreadsheet I need to finish my taxes and get my refund (about $500) is on the desktop on the broken laptop. Gnar.


  • Really, I guess I could group a lot of those things under Stupid Money as a sub-heading. Things could be (and have been) worse, but it's just one more layer of insecurity in this weird layered parfait of my stress.

    A lot of it, I'm sure, is change-related. Even change for the better is stressful. And I have been feeling a slow but epic shift in the tectonic plates of my life. Exciting? Maybe. Terrifying? Absolutely.

    But for now, it's manifesting as a case of the sads. I hugged on [livejournal.com profile] arbiter_of_cool and let him know I'm a little wobbly and in need of more snugs and cuddles in the days to come. It will pass, of course, but I am trying to feel it instead of bury it. Hopefully this purge will make it a little easier to move through it.
    sandmansister: (Spock calm)
    First and foremost, thank you all for your words of support during my weeks of wibble. When I begin to doubt the Universe and my place in it, I have only to think of my Tribe to put things in perspective.

    Now that I’ve had some chance to consider things more, I stand by my “Not OK” diagnosis. But I think—for myself and those who interact with me regularly—I need to clarify just a bit.

    There’s depression, sure. But I’m (mostly) functional, which is why things are so tricky. I’m not so bad that I can’t get out of bed (OK, that’s never been easy for me; just go with it). I still have happy moments. The National Anthem gig at the Allen Americans game last Saturday was great, as was dinner afterwards. Lace time is always healing (mainly because laughter—much of it inappropriate— is plentiful).

    If I were caught in a Tar Baby of Misery, I think I’d feel more entitled. Or at least it would make more sense. As it is, things are just a little off. That’s much harder for me to notice and deal with. And keep in mind that I’m talking about what my heart knows, not my brain. Rationally, I get that my responses are reasonable and expected. That doesn’t mean I’m emotionally smart enough to apply that to myself. (I’m working on it!)

    It also helped to realize that one of the tamoxifen side effects is depression. (So is weight gain... and I’m here to tell you that in and of itself is depressing!) So there are definitely a number of factors at play, chemical and emotional.

    Many of you have said, “Whatever you need.” Thank you. A thousand times, thank you. I just wish that wasn’t such a moving target! I go from wanting to be covered up by my nearest and dearest to wishing for a cabin for one in the woods somewhere far away.

    I can say this much, though: I need you all. (Don’t I always? But now it’s more keenly felt.) Big gatherings feel intimidating right now. But small, spontaneous things? That’s of the good. And please don’t wait for me to be smart enough to set something up. I can’t. I’m just depressed enough that reaching out is hard—this is as close as I get. Help me get the ball rolling.

    Going for dinner? Call me. Coffee date? Let me know. Wanna come watch movies? Drop a line. Holiday bake-a-thon? I might mix, blend, and/or whip. I can’t guarantee I will say yes, but the asking should help me feel more connected—especially because I can trust you all to get it if I say, “I just can’t.” But eventually, I will say yes. You can count on it.

    And yes, I am writing my book. Right now most of it’s in my head (at least the bits I haven’t written here), but I am Having Thoughts. And I think I know the title: I’m Not OK (and That’s OK): Happy Endings Are Hard, Too.

    As ever, I love you all. Wishing you peace, love, and the decadent confection of your choice.
    sandmansister: (Spock calm)
    First and foremost, thank you all for your words of support during my weeks of wibble. When I begin to doubt the Universe and my place in it, I have only to think of my Tribe to put things in perspective.

    Now that I’ve had some chance to consider things more, I stand by my “Not OK” diagnosis. But I think—for myself and those who interact with me regularly—I need to clarify just a bit.

    There’s depression, sure. But I’m (mostly) functional, which is why things are so tricky. I’m not so bad that I can’t get out of bed (OK, that’s never been easy for me; just go with it). I still have happy moments. The National Anthem gig at the Allen Americans game last Saturday was great, as was dinner afterwards. Lace time is always healing (mainly because laughter—much of it inappropriate— is plentiful).

    If I were caught in a Tar Baby of Misery, I think I’d feel more entitled. Or at least it would make more sense. As it is, things are just a little off. That’s much harder for me to notice and deal with. And keep in mind that I’m talking about what my heart knows, not my brain. Rationally, I get that my responses are reasonable and expected. That doesn’t mean I’m emotionally smart enough to apply that to myself. (I’m working on it!)

    It also helped to realize that one of the tamoxifen side effects is depression. (So is weight gain... and I’m here to tell you that in and of itself is depressing!) So there are definitely a number of factors at play, chemical and emotional.

    Many of you have said, “Whatever you need.” Thank you. A thousand times, thank you. I just wish that wasn’t such a moving target! I go from wanting to be covered up by my nearest and dearest to wishing for a cabin for one in the woods somewhere far away.

    I can say this much, though: I need you all. (Don’t I always? But now it’s more keenly felt.) Big gatherings feel intimidating right now. But small, spontaneous things? That’s of the good. And please don’t wait for me to be smart enough to set something up. I can’t. I’m just depressed enough that reaching out is hard—this is as close as I get. Help me get the ball rolling.

    Going for dinner? Call me. Coffee date? Let me know. Wanna come watch movies? Drop a line. Holiday bake-a-thon? I might mix, blend, and/or whip. I can’t guarantee I will say yes, but the asking should help me feel more connected—especially because I can trust you all to get it if I say, “I just can’t.” But eventually, I will say yes. You can count on it.

    And yes, I am writing my book. Right now most of it’s in my head (at least the bits I haven’t written here), but I am Having Thoughts. And I think I know the title: I’m Not OK (and That’s OK): Happy Endings Are Hard, Too.

    As ever, I love you all. Wishing you peace, love, and the decadent confection of your choice.
    sandmansister: (Spock calm)
    First and foremost, thank you all for your words of support during my weeks of wibble. When I begin to doubt the Universe and my place in it, I have only to think of my Tribe to put things in perspective.

    Now that I’ve had some chance to consider things more, I stand by my “Not OK” diagnosis. But I think—for myself and those who interact with me regularly—I need to clarify just a bit.

    There’s depression, sure. But I’m (mostly) functional, which is why things are so tricky. I’m not so bad that I can’t get out of bed (OK, that’s never been easy for me; just go with it). I still have happy moments. The National Anthem gig at the Allen Americans game last Saturday was great, as was dinner afterwards. Lace time is always healing (mainly because laughter—much of it inappropriate— is plentiful).

    If I were caught in a Tar Baby of Misery, I think I’d feel more entitled. Or at least it would make more sense. As it is, things are just a little off. That’s much harder for me to notice and deal with. And keep in mind that I’m talking about what my heart knows, not my brain. Rationally, I get that my responses are reasonable and expected. That doesn’t mean I’m emotionally smart enough to apply that to myself. (I’m working on it!)

    It also helped to realize that one of the tamoxifen side effects is depression. (So is weight gain... and I’m here to tell you that in and of itself is depressing!) So there are definitely a number of factors at play, chemical and emotional.

    Many of you have said, “Whatever you need.” Thank you. A thousand times, thank you. I just wish that wasn’t such a moving target! I go from wanting to be covered up by my nearest and dearest to wishing for a cabin for one in the woods somewhere far away.

    I can say this much, though: I need you all. (Don’t I always? But now it’s more keenly felt.) Big gatherings feel intimidating right now. But small, spontaneous things? That’s of the good. And please don’t wait for me to be smart enough to set something up. I can’t. I’m just depressed enough that reaching out is hard—this is as close as I get. Help me get the ball rolling.

    Going for dinner? Call me. Coffee date? Let me know. Wanna come watch movies? Drop a line. Holiday bake-a-thon? I might mix, blend, and/or whip. I can’t guarantee I will say yes, but the asking should help me feel more connected—especially because I can trust you all to get it if I say, “I just can’t.” But eventually, I will say yes. You can count on it.

    And yes, I am writing my book. Right now most of it’s in my head (at least the bits I haven’t written here), but I am Having Thoughts. And I think I know the title: I’m Not OK (and That’s OK): Happy Endings Are Hard, Too.

    As ever, I love you all. Wishing you peace, love, and the decadent confection of your choice.
    sandmansister: (Spock calm)
    First and foremost, thank you all for your words of support during my weeks of wibble. When I begin to doubt the Universe and my place in it, I have only to think of my Tribe to put things in perspective.

    Now that I’ve had some chance to consider things more, I stand by my “Not OK” diagnosis. But I think—for myself and those who interact with me regularly—I need to clarify just a bit.

    There’s depression, sure. But I’m (mostly) functional, which is why things are so tricky. I’m not so bad that I can’t get out of bed (OK, that’s never been easy for me; just go with it). I still have happy moments. The National Anthem gig at the Allen Americans game last Saturday was great, as was dinner afterwards. Lace time is always healing (mainly because laughter—much of it inappropriate— is plentiful).

    If I were caught in a Tar Baby of Misery, I think I’d feel more entitled. Or at least it would make more sense. As it is, things are just a little off. That’s much harder for me to notice and deal with. And keep in mind that I’m talking about what my heart knows, not my brain. Rationally, I get that my responses are reasonable and expected. That doesn’t mean I’m emotionally smart enough to apply that to myself. (I’m working on it!)

    It also helped to realize that one of the tamoxifen side effects is depression. (So is weight gain... and I’m here to tell you that in and of itself is depressing!) So there are definitely a number of factors at play, chemical and emotional.

    Many of you have said, “Whatever you need.” Thank you. A thousand times, thank you. I just wish that wasn’t such a moving target! I go from wanting to be covered up by my nearest and dearest to wishing for a cabin for one in the woods somewhere far away.

    I can say this much, though: I need you all. (Don’t I always? But now it’s more keenly felt.) Big gatherings feel intimidating right now. But small, spontaneous things? That’s of the good. And please don’t wait for me to be smart enough to set something up. I can’t. I’m just depressed enough that reaching out is hard—this is as close as I get. Help me get the ball rolling.

    Going for dinner? Call me. Coffee date? Let me know. Wanna come watch movies? Drop a line. Holiday bake-a-thon? I might mix, blend, and/or whip. I can’t guarantee I will say yes, but the asking should help me feel more connected—especially because I can trust you all to get it if I say, “I just can’t.” But eventually, I will say yes. You can count on it.

    And yes, I am writing my book. Right now most of it’s in my head (at least the bits I haven’t written here), but I am Having Thoughts. And I think I know the title: I’m Not OK (and That’s OK): Happy Endings Are Hard, Too.

    As ever, I love you all. Wishing you peace, love, and the decadent confection of your choice.
    sandmansister: (Dance1)
    I have probably mentioned this before, but I suspend my usual dislike of pop music when it comes to Pink. She is a big exception to that admittedly flexible rule in my world.

    Don't know why—and the "why" isn't important here, anyway—but just now, singing along with this brought an unexpected swell in my heart and a tear to my eye (in a schmoobly-overwhelmed-but-in-a-good-I-love-life kind of way)...

    God Is a DJ
    ~ Pink


    I've been the girl with her skirt pulled high
    Been the outcast never running with mascara eyes
    Now I see the world as a candy store
    With a cigarette smile, saying things you can't ignore
    Like Mommy I love you
    Daddy I hate you
    Brother I need you
    Lover, hey "fuck you"
    I can see everything here with my third eye
    Like the blue in the sky

    [CHORUS:]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it

    [Verse 2:]
    I've been the girl—middle finger in the air
    Unaffected by rumors, the truth: I don't care
    So open your mouth and stick out your tongue
    You might as well let go, you can't take back what you've done
    So find a new lifestyle
    A new reason to smile
    Look for Nirvana
    Under the strobe lights
    Sequins and sex dreams
    You whisper to me
    There's no reason to cry

    [CHORUS:]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it

    [BRIDGE:]
    You take what you get and you get what you give
    I say don't run from yourself, man, that's no way to live
    I've got a record in my bag you should give it a spin
    Lift your hands in the air so that life can begin

    If God Is a DJ... If God
    If God is a DJ (life is a dance floor)
    Get your ass on the dance floor

    [CHORUS (2X):]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it
    sandmansister: (Dance1)
    I have probably mentioned this before, but I suspend my usual dislike of pop music when it comes to Pink. She is a big exception to that admittedly flexible rule in my world.

    Don't know why—and the "why" isn't important here, anyway—but just now, singing along with this brought an unexpected swell in my heart and a tear to my eye (in a schmoobly-overwhelmed-but-in-a-good-I-love-life kind of way)...

    God Is a DJ
    ~ Pink


    I've been the girl with her skirt pulled high
    Been the outcast never running with mascara eyes
    Now I see the world as a candy store
    With a cigarette smile, saying things you can't ignore
    Like Mommy I love you
    Daddy I hate you
    Brother I need you
    Lover, hey "fuck you"
    I can see everything here with my third eye
    Like the blue in the sky

    [CHORUS:]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it

    [Verse 2:]
    I've been the girl—middle finger in the air
    Unaffected by rumors, the truth: I don't care
    So open your mouth and stick out your tongue
    You might as well let go, you can't take back what you've done
    So find a new lifestyle
    A new reason to smile
    Look for Nirvana
    Under the strobe lights
    Sequins and sex dreams
    You whisper to me
    There's no reason to cry

    [CHORUS:]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it

    [BRIDGE:]
    You take what you get and you get what you give
    I say don't run from yourself, man, that's no way to live
    I've got a record in my bag you should give it a spin
    Lift your hands in the air so that life can begin

    If God Is a DJ... If God
    If God is a DJ (life is a dance floor)
    Get your ass on the dance floor

    [CHORUS (2X):]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it
    sandmansister: (Dance1)
    I have probably mentioned this before, but I suspend my usual dislike of pop music when it comes to Pink. She is a big exception to that admittedly flexible rule in my world.

    Don't know why—and the "why" isn't important here, anyway—but just now, singing along with this brought an unexpected swell in my heart and a tear to my eye (in a schmoobly-overwhelmed-but-in-a-good-I-love-life kind of way)...

    God Is a DJ
    ~ Pink


    I've been the girl with her skirt pulled high
    Been the outcast never running with mascara eyes
    Now I see the world as a candy store
    With a cigarette smile, saying things you can't ignore
    Like Mommy I love you
    Daddy I hate you
    Brother I need you
    Lover, hey "fuck you"
    I can see everything here with my third eye
    Like the blue in the sky

    [CHORUS:]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it

    [Verse 2:]
    I've been the girl—middle finger in the air
    Unaffected by rumors, the truth: I don't care
    So open your mouth and stick out your tongue
    You might as well let go, you can't take back what you've done
    So find a new lifestyle
    A new reason to smile
    Look for Nirvana
    Under the strobe lights
    Sequins and sex dreams
    You whisper to me
    There's no reason to cry

    [CHORUS:]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it

    [BRIDGE:]
    You take what you get and you get what you give
    I say don't run from yourself, man, that's no way to live
    I've got a record in my bag you should give it a spin
    Lift your hands in the air so that life can begin

    If God Is a DJ... If God
    If God is a DJ (life is a dance floor)
    Get your ass on the dance floor

    [CHORUS (2X):]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it
    sandmansister: (Dance1)
    I have probably mentioned this before, but I suspend my usual dislike of pop music when it comes to Pink. She is a big exception to that admittedly flexible rule in my world.

    Don't know why—and the "why" isn't important here, anyway—but just now, singing along with this brought an unexpected swell in my heart and a tear to my eye (in a schmoobly-overwhelmed-but-in-a-good-I-love-life kind of way)...

    God Is a DJ
    ~ Pink


    I've been the girl with her skirt pulled high
    Been the outcast never running with mascara eyes
    Now I see the world as a candy store
    With a cigarette smile, saying things you can't ignore
    Like Mommy I love you
    Daddy I hate you
    Brother I need you
    Lover, hey "fuck you"
    I can see everything here with my third eye
    Like the blue in the sky

    [CHORUS:]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it

    [Verse 2:]
    I've been the girl—middle finger in the air
    Unaffected by rumors, the truth: I don't care
    So open your mouth and stick out your tongue
    You might as well let go, you can't take back what you've done
    So find a new lifestyle
    A new reason to smile
    Look for Nirvana
    Under the strobe lights
    Sequins and sex dreams
    You whisper to me
    There's no reason to cry

    [CHORUS:]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it

    [BRIDGE:]
    You take what you get and you get what you give
    I say don't run from yourself, man, that's no way to live
    I've got a record in my bag you should give it a spin
    Lift your hands in the air so that life can begin

    If God Is a DJ... If God
    If God is a DJ (life is a dance floor)
    Get your ass on the dance floor

    [CHORUS (2X):]
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    Love is the rhythm
    You are the music
    If God is a DJ
    Life is a dance floor
    You get what you're given
    It's all how you use it
    sandmansister: (Fish out of water)
    ... but (fortunately) not the infinite sadness. [/stupid music jokes] Just the garden variety of such.

    Online time is still limited by lack of home computer, so I've found myself composing a post in my head for days. Don't have time for all that navel gazing, but it comes down to this: I am sad.

    Not a huge, looming, depressive kind of sad, just a tad dejected. My skin is a little thinner (would that it were true of the rest of me!); my heart a little further out on my sleeve.

    Don't know why. Can name 1,000 reasons all of which may be contributors (missing my KC friends, living in an unsettled space, lack of down time, job dissatisfaction, general loneliness, Jimmy's birthday coming soon) but the reasons don't seem to matter. SSDD syndrome, it seems.

    Bah.

    It will pass. It always does.

    But for now I find myself a little quieter, more reflective and just a little melancholy. Be patient with me as I learn what lessons this state of being brings.




    Do not doubt that I love you all.
    sandmansister: (Fish out of water)
    ... but (fortunately) not the infinite sadness. [/stupid music jokes] Just the garden variety of such.

    Online time is still limited by lack of home computer, so I've found myself composing a post in my head for days. Don't have time for all that navel gazing, but it comes down to this: I am sad.

    Not a huge, looming, depressive kind of sad, just a tad dejected. My skin is a little thinner (would that it were true of the rest of me!); my heart a little further out on my sleeve.

    Don't know why. Can name 1,000 reasons all of which may be contributors (missing my KC friends, living in an unsettled space, lack of down time, job dissatisfaction, general loneliness, Jimmy's birthday coming soon) but the reasons don't seem to matter. SSDD syndrome, it seems.

    Bah.

    It will pass. It always does.

    But for now I find myself a little quieter, more reflective and just a little melancholy. Be patient with me as I learn what lessons this state of being brings.




    Do not doubt that I love you all.
    sandmansister: (Fish out of water)
    ... but (fortunately) not the infinite sadness. [/stupid music jokes] Just the garden variety of such.

    Online time is still limited by lack of home computer, so I've found myself composing a post in my head for days. Don't have time for all that navel gazing, but it comes down to this: I am sad.

    Not a huge, looming, depressive kind of sad, just a tad dejected. My skin is a little thinner (would that it were true of the rest of me!); my heart a little further out on my sleeve.

    Don't know why. Can name 1,000 reasons all of which may be contributors (missing my KC friends, living in an unsettled space, lack of down time, job dissatisfaction, general loneliness, Jimmy's birthday coming soon) but the reasons don't seem to matter. SSDD syndrome, it seems.

    Bah.

    It will pass. It always does.

    But for now I find myself a little quieter, more reflective and just a little melancholy. Be patient with me as I learn what lessons this state of being brings.




    Do not doubt that I love you all.

    May 2015

    S M T W T F S
         12
    3456789
    10111213141516
    17 181920212223
    24252627282930
    31      

    Syndicate

    RSS Atom

    Most Popular Tags

    Style Credit

    Expand Cut Tags

    No cut tags
    Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 10:12 am
    Powered by Dreamwidth Studios