sometimes you gotta kiss your lady in the graveyard.
Just one more re-blog for my friend Yoey. <3 he’s real good.
I’m back. I’m here. I’m writing again. I’m singing again.
I wrote this song a few months ago. The first half came while sitting at work- an empty restaurant filled with nothing but me, a cook, my manager, the meatloaf special and my emotions. I was hungry, bored, feeling particularly alone, staring out the window at wealthy people scaling up and down Walnut street for the perfect pants suit or the best sushi roll or the skinniest latte. That kind of stuff. Everyone looking for everything that would somehow improve them or keep them busy from themselves for just a little bit longer.
The next morning I wrote the second verse sitting in a coffee shop staring at everyone- no shame staring. Me staring at couples staring at each other over those lattes. Coffee cup love. I had that once in high school. I thought I was going to marry the first boy I ever loved. We’d go to Starbucks, we’d get drinks, we’d be perfectly content with our plans to rent a movie at Blockbuster (there’s a real time stamp for you) indulge in high school social gatherings, experiment with alcohol, sex and the like. He was truly wonderful. I thought I was set, just like these couples in the coffee shop enjoying their daily doses of coffee cup love. But it faded. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just life happening to our little never-been-broken hearts.
But on this day in the coffee shop, years later, I felt like I was the only one in the room without any idea regarding my other half’s whereabouts. So I felt like I had to look for him. So, as I sing in the song, I look for him in cigarettes and gin and the company of the lonely. It’s so wonderful to join up with the other lonely troops. Form the lonely hearts club, drink a few cocktails and smoke out on the fire escape. Forget about it being alone. But that doesn’t really work, does it? The smoke clears. You’re still lonely you at the end of the night when people leave. But this song really was about embracing it. Embracing the lonely and letting myself be a 20-something, unsteady loving, little girl.
It’s been my favorite song to play out, as of late. It is Coffee Cup Love.
Hunger pains and window panes and lonely all the same-
roaming knowing there’s no bus for catching.
And if I did bet, I’d wager that I’m on my way to loving..
But my luck left me some time ago- same with my sense of direction.
Now I’m closer to old than yesterday. I’m farther from 16
I’m wondering if everyone in here has found it.
Cause they got coffee cup love. It keeps them young and it makes them run for each other
As for me, I think I ran myself right around it.
So I look for him in cigarettes and gin and the company of the lonely,
but the smoke it clears and I’m drunk on tears & I wonder if I’m the only
little girl here with a little fear that hides behind a pretty face.
It can’t just be me. There’s gotta be my second heart.
He’s just sitting at a different window.
So there’s a boy out here I’ve known for years
and he says ‘you’re such a story; I never know which way your pages turn.’
He says ‘you’re a 20-something unsteady loving little girl inside.
Why don’t you just sit back & enjoy the ride?’
But still I look for him in cigarettes and gin and the company of the lonely,
but the smoke it clears and I’m drunk on tears & I wonder if I’m the only
little girl here with a little fear that hides behind a pretty face.
It can’t just be me. There’s gotta be my second heart.
He’s just sitting at a different window.
“And suddenly the world of music makes a little bit of sense. Not that it needs to or should.” - M. Ward
I’ve been gone from Tumblr for so long the website forgot who I was. It was like we broke up. They moved on! I had to re-log in. That says a lot.
I’ve been wondering how many lulls and moments of zero inspiration it takes to finally reach that constant state of need, move, go get exactly what you want. Go find the perfect space. Are there a certain number of Tumblr hiatuses and days without touching my guitar because the thought of writing makes me feel inadequate and moments of doubt and fear before I am actually ready to dedicate my entire life to what I want to do?
No.
I guess if it were that easy, (if we had a quota of moments of self-doubt before being okay), then finally getting where we want or where the universe needs us—whether it’s a state of mind or a physical place or a feeling— wouldn’t feel as euphoric.
Anyway. I’m back. I’m ready again. I met someone who is showing me not only adequacy but belief in doing what my heart needs me to do whether it means not sleeping or being terrified or rejected. It’s about embracing the fear and the rejection and the potential failure and the endless coffee late into the night to finish a song.
“When you want to succeed as bad as you want to breathe, then you’ll be successful.”
It’s about everything in this video. Yes, I realize this is a video about hockey, but what it really comes down to- whether it’s hockey, music, art, photography, stripping, WHATEVER- is being passionate about finding exactly what you are meant to do while you’re on this earth.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Remember that Little Window? As sorry as I am to disappoint all the hopeless romantics out there: it closed. Clearly some relationships really ARE only meant to last a brief, bittersweet 7 days… similar to that haircut I was sporting.
So, here I am.
I’m back in Pittsburgh, my goldfish Minkus survived, it’s raining, I have new recording equipment, I have one less phone number in my Contacts, I’m lost, I’m happy, I’m embracing the struggle, etc. I’m elated to be back.
I wanted to write one more song about this person- send him off, in a way. I think my disappointment lies mostly in the fact that I never asked for this experience to happen in the first place. It just did. It presented itself to me in the form of a drunken kiss, and I happily played along. As the song says, “I was just a girl with no plans; you planned to play.” It was so that.
But that ended.
That was replaced with a new girl. Cue my embarrassment, my resentment, my confusion, my feelings, my song.
I had 7.5 long, snowy hours to think about all of these things and wrote them down after collapsing in my bed post-drive. I may have even cried. It’s amazing that writing these things down made the feelings rush back. I was lovesick all over again in that brief hour. That, however, has faded as well since recording the music.
So, to you: I left it all in the song and that’s that. I’m not heartbroken; I’m not even bitter. I just don’t like the way it ended and that’s all there is to it. You could have been beautiful.
I’m cold in here & it’s tired outside
this city moves faster, I’m out of line
I don’t know the sky you see or where the hell you are
but I know the hardest know: tonight I ain’t your star
I was back in town a little, wanted to mess up the bed
silence told me no- a silence still in my head
now my hearts embarrassed- yours, somewhere new.
I was waiting. I’m fading. It’s a dark grayish blue
Cause sweet summer danced you my way
I was just a girl with no plans- you just planned to play
now like the leaves on these trees & the wine in your glass
I wasn’t your first and I won’t be your last
Now while I write it down, it happens again
your fast-talking smile pours out of my pen
then I remember the new girl; I met her.
does she get all wrapped up in you, too?
You probably let her.
Sweet summer danced you my way
I was just a girl with no plans- you just planned to play
now like the leaves on these trees & the wine in your glass
I wasn’t your first & I won’t be your last.
“I’m back for a few days, let’s mess up the bed. You don’t look the same; was it something I said? My heart is embarrassed. Yours is somewhere new. I was waiting. I’m fading. It’s a dark grayish blue.
I don’t recall telling you it was alright, but you left some of you on me on that night. Still like leaves on these trees and the wine in your glass: I wasn’t your first. I won’t be your last.
While I write it all down, it happens again. Your fast-talking smile pours out of my pen. Then I remember the new girl- I met her. Did she sleep in my spot? You probably let her.
I don’t recall telling you it was alright, but you left some of you on me on that night. Still like the leaves on these trees and the wine in your glass: I wasn’t your first. I won’t be your last.”
It’s a Christmas cover! Or Christmas cover(s)! A medley, if you will. Hohoholy December, where have I been?
Christmas, Baby Please Come Home primarily along with, All I Want for Christmas is (…products, boots, unlimited gift cards to Whole Foods and a bathrobe) You, and I’ll Be (more aware of binge eating, more willing to shovel snow, more creative with my side of the gingerbread house and less of a cookie hog) Home for Christmas.
right now. again.
Closer to old than yesterday- much farther from sixteen
and i’m wondering if everyone in here has found it.
Cause they’ve got coffee cup love. It makes them young. It gives them something to run for.
As for me, I think I ran myself right around it.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
