it's a convoluted mess
I gave up on Facebook almost two years ago. It was getting increasingly more difficult to filter out the shit I didn’t want to see and instead of fighting with the ever-changing (largely non-functional) settings of the site, it was just easier to STOP. It was a fantastic decision. I don’t miss it in the least. Sure I have no idea what’s going on with people I actually know, but really, if they miss me… Keep reading…Twittered out…
A few months back Bob made the observation that I hadn’t had any new music to listen to in a long time and that it was likely a contributing factor to my general disposition and lack of creative inspiration. I conceded that he was probably right—as he usually is—and lamented the nondescript time frames of upcoming releases from some of my favorites. And then everybody released new music at the same time. Better Than Ezra… Keep reading…Just one of them things…
![O.A.R. ... Give Me Something [live]](https://www.getalifebooks.com/media/blog/featured-images/oar-heaven.png)
I read an article somebody posted a link to…somewhere…recently…about how people who write are mentally healthier. I don’t know exactly how “scientific” the studies were, but it made sense to me. When the creativity is in a drought and I’m not doing much writing, there is an obvious gaping void in my life. When the words are flowing, my brain feels like it’s operating like something that resembles a functional adult in her mid-thirties. (MID-THIRTIES—Let’s… Keep reading…Maybe daylight won’t ask me questions…
This band. I love them. So. Fucking. Much. We drove over nine hundred miles to see them in concert. I couldn’t muster the mental fortitude to see them locally at the State Fair on Labor Day, but Colorado, Red Rocks, (and Andy Grammer, let’s be honest) got me to drive 1800+ miles for them. The band’s performance that night mixed with the energy of a crowd of 6000-some-odd people belting out every word along with… Keep reading…I don’t need a reason for anything I feel…
In September 2007, if you’d told me in two months I’d meet the love of my life and in two years I’d be married to him, I would have written you off as bat-shit crazy. Oh ye of little faith. It’s been five years since Bob and I got married. In a lot of ways I feel like I’ve known him forever. In others, HOLY CHRISTMAS how has it been five years already? (Seven together… Keep reading…Five…
I have a tendency to let posts pile up in the drafts folder. Things that are too fragmented, too bitchy, too emotional, too sleep-deprived, too why-are-you-posting-that-on-the-internet, too…whathaveyou. I go through them periodically and purge or use pieces in other posts that actually get published. And some just sit there for months—or years—as I don’t have the heart to delete them because maybe someday they’ll get finished. — Not my fault… S: He’s like a puppy…. Keep reading…Just a shadow fading out…