We’re Grabbing at the Fray for Something

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Aimee Mann, Better off Dead, Big Head Todd and the Monsters, children, Election 2016, Hamilton, Hangover, Hillary, Jim Croce, john cusack, Mat Kearney, Paul Simon, Phish, Sam Cooke, school, Teachers, The Samples, The Shins, Trump

You may remember the John Cusack movie, “Better off Dead” from the 80s. There’s a particularly hilarious scene where the main character, Lane, suffers heartache after his girlfriend breaks up with him for someone else, and his radio mocks him. Love song after love song destroys him, and he finally rips the radio out of the car and chucks it into the street. This was Wednesday morning for me.

I woke up needing music more than anything. This year, in general, has been more difficult than easy. With a post-election hangover (and a real one thanks to too much wine), I was bleary eyed, praying that the coffee I made would be strong enough. As I entered the freeway, with more traffic than expected for a city that stayed up to the wee-hours to watch election coverage, song after song pained my heart. Like Lane, I felt as if the radio DJs were digging deep into the chasm of deep female loss. And I took it personally, as someone who voted for Hillary.

It was all too much for me. I cried most of the drive. I think the different DJs on XM Radio were making their own silent protests supporting Hillary, and asking what the hell happened. When Blondie came on, I heard her mantra of “The tide is high, but I’m holding on”.  This resonated with me, so I took it to work.

My first class, a 7th grade social studies class, was subdued. A few kids wore American pride garb, sporting stars and stripes, as well as signs that read “I Wish I was Canadian”,

You’re In Need of Something You Can’t Find

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charm bracelet, dreams, gift, Gram, Lenny Kravitz, lost things, mom, postaday, San Francisco Giants, searching, start again, World Series

I seem to have lost my sense of time in the past few weeks. I don’t know where it has gone. It’s kind of like I am in a hamster wheel. Perhaps it’s not the worst place to be, but this annoys me. To my credit, this fall has been intense. For starters, once again, the San Francisco Giants, the baseball team I grew up with, moves on to the World Series tomorrow night. I have been watching a lot of baseball, which is usually the case in the post-season, regardless of who’s still in. Well, with the exception of the Dodgers and the Yankees.

Since I was a teenager, I have had a reoccurring dream where I am searching everywhere for something I have lost. Sometimes it happens when I really have misplaced something I care about, other times when I am overly tired. I tend to lose everyday things for a few hours–a day or two tops–but for the most part, I am able to have reconnaissance missions to locate them. Except twice.

In high school, I lost a gold and sapphire birthstone ring I received in 3rd grade. It was for my birthday, and I had scoured the Best Catalogue over and over. With enough nagging and proving to my mom that I wouldn’t ever lose it, there it was on the fireplace hearth, ready for me to open after dinner and cake. I bent the hell out of the ring over the years, and had it straightened with my dad’s pliers, broke the shank in half, and even had to have it resized. This ring survived endless abuse, but it was loved. Until I lost it, and then it was adored and revered.

I was in high school, maybe college, and the ring went missing at some point. I didn’t wear it daily; it had a permanent resting place in my jewelry box. But then it didn’t. I stewed, and searched, and got teary. I mentioned it to my mom, who was as baffled as I was. It came up in conversation that Sunday when my Gram came to dinner. The next day, she called our house and asked to talk to me. She told me that she had a dream the night before about my ring, and I should check behind my nightstand, under my bed, anywhere near where I could have taken it off in my sleep. Low and behold, I found it underneath my nightstand. It was the last piece of jewelry I lost. Until 2007.

When I graduated from 8th grade, I received a 14 karat gold charm bracelet from my Gram, with a charm on it. It was a gold filigree cross. That same day, I received a shamrock from my parents, a “13” from the family I babysat, and I was slowly on my

And it’s Time for the Last Rewind

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answers, French, Jimmy Buffett, London, Paris, travel

I went to Paris looking for answers to questions that bothered me so. It was the summer of 2009. While I was studying in Oxford that summer, I found a great deal via the Eurostar from St. Pancras to La Gare du Nord. I disappeared into the French cafes, restaurants and museums for three solid days. I don’t know if I have ever had a more fabulous vacation.

Strolling along the Seine

I decided when I left that I would only speak French. If you know me, you know that’s not necessarily a wise decision. But I figured, if they spoke English, they would reply in English if my French was that bad. Wise decision actually. I did pretty well, and I’m glad that I made that choice. It was fun.

I chose to take a leave from grad work while I was gone despite my better judgment. I had an enormous paper on Ulysses due the following week. But I didn’t care. I took the Metro everywhere, leaving my hotel at nine in the morning, and returning around eleven or midnight. I took probably 500 photos that weekend. I tried on French clothes, only to be disappointed that they didn’t fit a curvy girl well. I smoked French cigarettes, and ordered wine and cheese for my lunch.

So what were these questions that bothered me so?