Classic Cher

Cher is woman one who has always enjoyed being edgy. I think it takes a strong person to step out of the box and be different. Besides her power-ladened voice and her obvious charisma, it is the one thing that draws me to her music. Her eccentricity, if you will, reminds me much younger performers: Pink and Lady Gaga. They both push the envelop just as Cher has done and I like that. Stick yourself out on a limb and be different than the crowd around you. And there are many ways to do that; you don't have to dress in almost nothing and cake on the make up. Just be creative and stand your ground.

Cher - If I Could Turn Back Time



Pink - Please Don't Leave Me (I think this video is comical with its take on the film Misery.)



Lady Gaga - Bad Romance (as bizarre as they come!)

Off the bookshelf

For the longest time I have had a copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith (originally published in 1943) sitting on my bookshelf in my home "office". I found this particular copy at the secondhand bookshop (Cornerstone Bookshop) here in town some time ago and bought it because I have wanted to read that book since I was a teen and never got around to it.

The first time I came across this book, it had been loaned to me by my then sister-in-law, Louise Fillman. It just so happens (and I had not specifically planned it this way) that I decided to read this book after I was finished with Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. Coincidentally enough, the start of my reading coincided with reuniting with Louise after 25 years of no contact.

This book always reminded me of her, because when she had lent it to me, my father read the back of the book and decided on the spot that it was not an appropriate book for me, at age 16, to read. He made me give it back to her. I think that made me want to read it more. Being the typical 16 year old, I soon forgot about it and life went on. The copy I presently have was publised in 1947 and there is only a very short review of the novel, that has no eye-brow raising content to it. So I don't know what my father read on the back of that copy so long ago that would have raised concern for him. (You know, I never realized they had paperback books that early on.)

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is a bildungsroman about an 11 year old girl growing up in the early 1900s in, where else, Brooklyn. I haven't gotten too far into it, but am enjoying it immensely so far. This little girl is poor and loves books. The library is her favorite place to be and when not there, the tree-covered metal fire escape of her Williamsburg, Brooklyn tenement where she escapes with her books. I know there is a movie based on this book and had once come across it on tv, but expressly avoided watching it because I wanted to read the book first. I think in this particular case I wanted more keenly to read the book first rather than get a chopped version in the movie because of it's reminder to me of Louise and because of the "mystique" my father had created in forbidding me to read the book. (I should have snuck it into the house to read, but I didn't...chicken liver that I was of getting in trouble.) Perhaps that "mystique" adds to its current enjoyment.

Additionally, I have a particular liking for bildungsroman novels for which I cannot account. Perhaps somehow they fill some void I sense from my own process of maturation. Maybe I identify with the protagonists somehow. Or it could be that their ease of reading makes them fling me back to my past when reading was primarily for enjoyment and not material required for some college course. (Sometimes it is difficult to enjoy a book when you have to read it so quickly because you have a dozen or more others to read in only a few months. Some pleasure is certainly losted in that process.) Whatever the case, I am devouring it (as fast as this very slow reader can), mostly in snippets of time in waiting rooms or when I find I don't have enough time to accomplish a larger task. I have sorely missed the pleasure of reading for enjoyment, since most of my reading of the last decade has been geared toward coursework. I have decided that putting reading for pleasure on hold will not happen again in my life. It is not that I don't enjoy the material I do read for class, but rather the pace has become overwhelming to me after so many years of trying to "do it all". I enjoy learning and I almost always enjoy the novels I am assigned. But there is nothing that compares with curling up with a favorite mug filled to the brim with hot coffee and a good novel to read at leisure. It is one of the pleasures one must take advantage of amidst real life's more numerable, less pleasurable moments.

Love this song and Nickelback in general

Gotta Be Somebody - Nickelback



I pay particular attention to lyrics, and if I like the lyrics I generally like the melody or it grows on me. It is a kind of like when I meet people. When I get a feeling that a particular person's personality is something special, looks don't matter or they grow on me.

Much to my detriment (it seems), I believe in "the one". You click with someone on a deep, soul level when you meet that person. Unfortunately, not all of us find that person or if we do, there are always reasons it won't work and that are out of our control. So what do you do then? You don't just go out and look for anyone to fill the void. You find out that YOU are that special "one" and learn to appreciate who you are instead of waiting for someone else to see what you see in yourself.

Seems depressing, but really it isn't. The trick is to have patience (something conspicously absent in the society we live in...ever notice?). That someone is just inside ourselves waiting to be discovered and loved. And since I will forever be with me, I am truly learning to enjoy my own company at moments when I am alone.

Here are the lyrics:

This time I wonder what it feels like
To find the one in this life
The one we all dream of
But dreams just aren't enough
So I´ll be waiting for the real thing.
I'll know it by the feeling.
The moment when we´re meeting
will play out like a scene straight off the silver screen
So I`ll be holdin’ my own breath
Right up to the end
Until that moment when
I find the one that I'll spend forever with

`Cause nobody wants to be the last one there.
'Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares.
Someone to love with my life in their hands.
There`s gotta be somebody for me like that.

`Cause nobody wants to do it on their own
And everyone wants to know they´re not alone.
There's somebody else that feels the same somewhere.
There`s gotta be somebody for me out there.

Tonight, out on the street out in the moonlight
And dammit this feels too right
It´s just like Déjà Vu
Me standin’ here with you
So I´ll be holdin`my own breath
Could this be the end?
Is it that moment when
I find the one that I'll spend forever with?

‘Cause nobody wants to be the last one there
'Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares.
Someone to love with my life in their hands.
There´s gotta be somebody for me like that.

`Cause nobody wants to do it on their own
And everyone wants to know they´re not alone.
There's somebody else that feels the same somewhere
There`s gotta be somebody for me out there.

You can´t give up!
Lookin´ for that diamond in the rough
You never know but when it shows up
Make sure you´re holdin` on
‘Cause it could be the one, the one you´re waiting on

‘Cause nobody wants to be the last one there.
And everyone wants to feel like someone cares.
Someone to love with my life in their hands.
There has gotta be somebody for me
Ohhhhhh.


Nobody wants to do it on their own
And everyone wants to know they´re not alone.
Is there somebody else that feels the same somewhere?
There`s gotta be somebody for me out there.

Nobody wants to be the last one there
'Cause everyone wants to feel like someone cares.
Is there somebody else that feels the same somewhere?
There has gotta be somebody for me out there.

When you thought you've heard it all, along comes something new

While at work today, I took a phone call from an older gentleman who had lost his traffic ticket and wanted to know the right way to take care of it. He proceeded to apologize to me for his slow speech and explained that "they hadn't removed his jaw yet". I didn't ask, but braced myself for a conversation of psychiatric proportions. lol. Anyway, after assisting him with his lost ticket dilemna, he was very grateful. So grateful, in fact, that he asked me "Do you like cookies?" I responded with a question, not holding back my chuckle, "Sure doesn't everybody like cookies?" He said "Well, write this down." He proceeded to give me the following recipe:

1 cake mix (duncan hines fudge swirl, precisely)
2 eggs
1/3 cup vegetable oil (or applesauce as a substitute for a low-fat version)

Place rounded balls of batter on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 11 minutes.

Actually, I have tried a recipe just like this before and it does turn out some good cookies. And the bonus is: You can use whatever flavor cake mix you want. I've added things like nuts, marshmallows, m&ms, raisins, etc to them too. And since the ingredients are few and simple you can easily make them with kids.

Happy cookie baking from my caller to you!

For your listening pleasure

I have found these little gem websites while surfing for literature

Many, many of the audiobooks are free, or reasonably priced. You can listen online or download them to your mp3 players. Too cool! So I just had to share them.

http://librivox.org/

http://www.learnoutloud.com/Home

And a site for literature in Spanish: (I am really loving this one right now!)

http://www.albalearning.com/


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One of my favorites

What I love best about this poem by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz is the timelessness of the message it conveys.

Hombres necios por Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (translated version below)

Hombres necios que acusáis
a la mujer sin razón,
sin ver que sois la ocasión
de lo mismo que culpáis:

si con ansia sin igual 5
solicitáis su desdén,
¿por qué queréis que obren bien
si las incitáis al mal?

Combatís su resistencia,
y luego con gravedad 10
decís que fue liviandad
lo que hizo la diligencia.

Queréis con presunción necia
hallar a la que buscáis,
para pretendida, Tais, 15
y en la posesión, Lucrecia.

¿Qué humor puede ser más raro
que el que falta de consejo,
él mismo empaña el espejo
y siente que no esté claro? 20

Con el favor y el desdén
tenéis condición igual,
quejándoos, si os tratan mal,
burlándoos, si os quieren bien.

Opinión ninguna gana, 25
pues la que más se recata,
si no os admite, es ingrata
y si os admite, es liviana.

Siempre tan necios andáis
que con desigual nivel 30
a una culpáis por cruel
y a otra por fácil culpáis.

¿Pues cómo ha de estar templada
la que vuestro amor pretende,
si la que es ingrata ofende 35
y la que es fácil enfada?

Mas entre el enfado y pena
que vuestro gusto refiere,
bien haya la que no os quiere
y quejaos enhorabuena. 40

Dan vuestras amantes penas
a sus libertades alas,
y después de hacerlas malas
las queréis hallar muy buenas.

¿Cuál mayor culpa ha tenido 45
en una pasión errada,
la que cae de rogada
o el que ruega de caído?

¿O cuál es más de culpar,
aunque cualquiera mal haga: 50
la que peca por la paga
o el que paga por pecar?

Pues ¿para qué os espantáis
de la culpa que tenéis?
Queredlas cual las hacéis 55
o hacedlas cual las buscáis.

Dejad de solicitar
y después con más razón
acusaréis la afición
de la que os fuere a rogar. 60

Bien con muchas armas fundo
que lidia vuestra arrogancia,
pues en promesa e instancia
juntáis diablo, carne y mundo.


(source is http://users.ipfw.edu/jehle/poesia/hombresn.htm)


You Men (Necios means foolish or silly, and it is implied here in the wording of the English title in the form of an accusation)


Silly, you men-so very adept
at wrongly faulting womankind,
not seeing you're alone to blame
for faults you plant in woman's mind.

After you've won by urgent plea
the right to tarnish her good name,
you still expect her to behave--
you, that coaxed her into shame.

You batter her resistance down
and then, all righteousness, proclaim
that feminine frivolity,
not your persistence, is to blame.

When it comes to bravely posturing,
your witlessness must take the prize:
you're the child that makes a bogeyman,
and then recoils in fear and cries.

Presumptuous beyond belief,
you'd have the woman you pursue
be Thais when you're courting her,
Lucretia once she falls to you.

For plain default of common sense,
could any action be so queer
as oneself to cloud the mirror,
then complain that it's not clear?

Whether you're favored or disdained,
nothing can leave you satisfied.
You whimper if you're turned away,
you sneer if you've been gratified.

With you, no woman can hope to score;
whichever way, she's bound to lose;
spurning you, she's ungrateful--
succumbing, you call her lewd.

Your folly is always the same:
you apply a single rule
to the one you accuse of looseness
and the one you brand as cruel.

What happy mean could there be
for the woman who catches your eye,
if, unresponsive, she offends,
yet whose complaisance you decry?

Still, whether it's torment or anger--
and both ways you've yourselves to blame--
God bless the woman who won't have you,
no matter how loud you complain.

It's your persistent entreaties
that change her from timid to bold.
Having made her thereby naughty,
you would have her good as gold.

So where does the greater guilt lie
for a passion that should not be:
with the man who pleads out of baseness
or the woman debased by his plea?

Or which is more to be blamed--
though both will have cause for chagrin:
the woman who sins for money
or the man who pays money to sin?

So why are you men all so stunned
at the thought you're all guilty alike?
Either like them for what you've made them
or make of them what you can like.

If you'd give up pursuing them,
you'd discover, without a doubt,
you've a stronger case to make
against those who seek you out.

I well know what powerful arms
you wield in pressing for evil:
your arrogance is allied
with the world, the flesh, and the devil!

(source is http://www.sappho.com/poetry/j_ines.html#Death)

The reason I chose the English version from a different site is because the one at the previous site was too abridged. This English version, although one stanza longer, conveys the general ideas in the poem. A little background: Sor (Sister) Juana Inés de la Cruz was a nun in 17th century Mexico. She was an apparently outspoken woman who thought that females should not be denied the pursuit interests that were considered back then as only being in the realm of men. She was very much ahead of her time. She has a very interesting life story. If you'd like to read more, here's the Wikipedia link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juana_In%C3%A9s_de_la_Cruz

My man

If there is one man I could have just by wishing for him, it would be Sting. He fascinates me.



Fragile lyrics:

If blood will flow when flesh and steel are one
Drying in the colour of the evening sun
Tomorrow's rain will wash the stains away
But something in our minds will always stay
Perhaps this final act was meant
To clinch a lifetime's argument
That nothing comes from violence and nothing ever could
For all those born beneath an angry star
Lest we forget how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are

On and on the rain will fall
Like tears from a star like tears from a star
On and on the rain will say
How fragile we are how fragile we are
How fragile we are how fragile we are

And he sings in Spanish too!! heh heh! I bet some of you didn't know that.



Mañana ya la sangre no estará
Al caer la lluvia se la llevará
Acero y piel combinación tan cruel
Pero algo en nuestras mentes quedará

Un acto así terminará
Con una vida y nada más
Nada se logra con violencia
Ni se logrará
Aquellos que han nacido en un mundo así
No olviden su fragilidad

Lloras tu y lloro yo
Y el cielo también, y el cielo también
Lloras tu y lloro yo
Que fragilidad, que fragilidad

Lloras tu y lloro yo
Y el cielo también, y el cielo también
Lloras tu y lloro yo
Que fragilidad, que fragilidad

There is a reason my heart returns over and over to Sting.
His music is a bit of paradise in an otherwise lousy world.