The music started. There was a certain kind of mood. And I thought there would be words. And there were, but they weren't adding up right. So I moved them around. More music came and went. I traded most of the words and sentences and titles and tones for new ones. Then I moved them around some more. And I still wasn't happy with any of it. Frustrated, I closed out the tab. Stubbornly, I returned to it a few more times over the next couple of hours.
Now it's 1:41 in the morning and I'm out of ideas. Out of words. For tonight, at least, I suck.
April 1 is an obnoxious day to be on the internet. Just sayin'...
I refuse to click on the Typepad-provided "Need exciting new blog topics? Get a dose of inspiration with our 10 Tips for finding new blog topics" link. My hunch is that my seven regulars would take to the streets and riot if I veered too far from all this incredible original programming. (Seven, oddly enough, being the legal minimum to label a fractuous get together as a "riot"). At any rate, I picture venomous protest signs and lots of shouting, perhaps a paper mache me being burned in effigy...you know, the usual shenanigans.
I started what would have been a train wreck of a blog on the topic of online dating earlier today, after two different friends brought it up. Best of luck to you all, I say, but I don't think I could do it. Probably for the same reason I struggle with accepting the numerous
blind dates that perfectly awesome friends of mine have pitched (Jay/Jackie,
Curt/Amy, other Amy, etc). Stubborn to a fault or not, this is one area I don't want the internet's help with (and this, coming from a guy who once used askjeeves to find a better way to tie a tie). If I don't meet Mrs. Right at Barnes & Noble or Starbucks or some other way all on my own, then so be it. But as the Verve so angstily put it a few years back -
No change, I can't change, I can't change, I can't change,
but I'm here in my mold, I am here in my mold.
But I'm a million different people from one day to the next...
I can't change my mold, no,no,no,no,no,no,no
and I don't want to be the wrong end of one of those blind date stories because a mutual friend or an online bio gave some poor, innocent girl the wrong impression of what to expect from an evening with me - which, let's face it, is a roll of the dice on a good day. No, my belief is that Penelope (or whatever her name is) will have to know what she's getting into first. (/mini-train wreck paragraph)
Opening Day is this upcoming Monday (well, depending on where you live / what team you follow). Not that I had tickets or anything, but I was still bummed to notice that I have Robbery Training that afternoon. (Assumably it will be more of the "Prevention / What To Do If..." variety, and not the "How To" variety). Either way, that's just one game out of 81 that I'll miss...there will be others...but still, wish I was gonna be at Minute Maid Park.
How did I miss out on the Matt Pond PA party until now? One of many musical discoveries from blip.fm. Too bad my being one of the best DJs on the internet doesn't pay anything. Or help with that whole "music snob" tag.
Work has been good lately. Mostly. Might jinx it if I say too much. Different bosses have taken me to lunch the last few weeks. Wasn't fired or chewed out either time. Always a good sign.
Rocket Science and Rachel Getting Married are two awesome movies, but for different reasons. Thank you, Netflix. I do love a good movie.
Speaking of movies, Curt's "No Dark Knight? WTF?" comment the other day cracked me up. And speaking of comments, another friend said to me today, "Sometimes I read your blog and pray for you. That happened yesterday." That, my friends, is an example of writing that draws a reaction from the audience. I will now take my bow.
I'm listening to Clem Snide's Moment In The Sun, and thinking that would make for an excellent blog title. Not that I need any more blogs to write (or not write) for (as the case may be). Anywho, good song. Video and lyrics below.
When it's my moment in the sun
Oh, how beautiful I'll be
But in a normal sort of way
Like I am you and you are me
'Cause I have a lot of things to say
And you'd be wise to listen good
I think that hunger, war and death
Are bringin' everybody down
Laaa lala laaaaa
Lala laaaaaaa lala
Laaaaaa laaaaa
When it's my moment in the sun
I'll share my problems with the world
And psychosomatically I'll sing
To God and all His pretty girls
Laaa lala laaaaa
Lala laaaaaaa lala
Laaaaaa laaaaa
When it's my moment in the sun
I won't forget that I am blessed
But every hero walks alone
Thinking of more things to confess
Like half of the "good" blog entries I've ever posted, this one was inspired by Vanilla Dr. Pepper (thanks, Sonic!) and a to-go order of chinese food. Or rather, the wait for the Vanilla DP, since a certain song was on Sonic Radio while I waited. This one's also especially for Curt, who is the only person on the planet foolish enough to bookmark this site on his iPhone's main menu. It will make a little more sense (and be marginally more interesting) if sung/read along with to the tune of Sara Bareilles's "Love Song" (click here to play the video in another window if you need the tune):
(impossibly catchy piano plunking...)
Hands on my laptop
And you tell me that the net's been missing me
posting gets harder, even I know that
You made bookmarks for me but it's too soon to see
If I can be wordy and on time
I'm usually hard to catch on to
Blank stares at blank pages
No new way to say this
You mean well, but you make this hard on me
I'm not gonna write you a new blog
'cause you're bored for it
'cause you need one, you see
I'm not gonna write you a new blog
'cause you tell me it
Makes or breaks your day Or you're clicking away
I'm not gonna write you to stay
If all you are is lurking I am not the kind of blogger
to write you a new blog today
I learned the hard way
That they all leave comments they wanna read
And my moody heart sinks deep down under them and
Five hundred posts, Edit til it hurts
They have not been here since "paperclips"
Hello to no new news
Convinced me to post this
Made me think that I need this too
I'm trying to let you read me as I am
I'm not gonna write you a new blog
'cause you asked for it
'cause you need one, you see
I'm not gonna write you a new blog
'cause you tell me it
Make or breaks your day
If you're clicking away
I'm not gonna write you to stay
If all you want is reading I'm asking you to take a seat
and wait for a good blog someday
Promise me that you'll leave Google Reader on
To let you see when updates and news breaks
'cause I believe there's a way you can love me
Because I say
I won't write you a new blog
'cause you asked for it
'cause you need one, you see
I'm not gonna put up a new blog
'cause you tell me it's been a couple a days
Is that why you wanted a new blog
'cause you asked for it
'cause you need one, you see
I'm not gonna write you a new blog
'cause you tell me it's make or breaking this
If you're on your way
I'm not gonna write you to stay
If my heart is nowhere in it
I won't type it for a minute
Babe, I'll write you War and Peace when I believe that
There's a reason to
Write you a new blog today
I read somewhere (someone's blog, perhaps?) that November is National Blog Posting Month. The challenge is to blog daily for the month of November, so maybe I'll have to post a little more than a few videos every Tuesday.
I love the BEGIN A NEW POST button here at the typepad homepage. I'm just one click away from bringing up a clean white page that exists solely for me to pour out the contents of my head. And then I get to highlight and delete the rough draft, fine tune the next few drafts, and settle on a final draft that will only change once or twice more afterwards. I guess for some people that does not sound like the ideal way to spend a Saturday night (or Tuesday afternoon, or whenever) but it's equal parts fun, exciting, soothing and cathartic for me.
I feel more like me when I'm behind the keyboard.
But that's not what this post is about. It's really about an otherwise non-eventful, non-newsworthy Saturday night. I'm spinning through my recent itunes purchases, wishing my venti iced hazelnut latte came in a bottomless cup, and researching plane fares and assorted other things online. It's a quiet night in room 207 here in East Greenbush, New York.
But it's the kind of quiet night that I want to remember. It's not exciting for you guys to read about, but I'll need the reminder for myself. That there were quiet nights in solitude when I wasn't stressed out from work, wasn't lonely for anything or anyone in particular...wasn't wishing for life to be any different than it is right. this. minute. There's a verse that talks about being content no matter what circumstances you find yourself in. That's me tonight.
So, new color scheme. But no new site. At least not for now. I like what I created with my Mac, but (of all things) I didn't care for the blogging setup that's built into it, so for now I'm staying here. Plus I'm sappy and sentimental, so that part of me hated to give up this space. It's like my favorite pair of jeans at this point - comfy and worn in. And I'd hate to have to re-train the 17 people that surf over here to adjust their bookmarks and / or update links from their blogs.
I also added a few new gadgets to the columns. You can link over to Pandora and dig into some cool music. It's a great site for finding music similar to stuff you already like. This is the site that keeps you from saying, "Why didn't anyone ever tell me about THIS BAND?!" The internet dropped another cool map feature I had added in the wee hours of the morning, so that will be re-added when I get home from work today. Oh, and the Community and I Support sections have been / will be updated as well.
So faithful readers, those who have stuck around through think and thin, through song lyrics and laundry excursions, through travelogues and lengthy ramblings....stick around a little longer, will you? I'll do my best to make this an interesting place to spend a few minutes.
Tonight's blog had the working title No Matter What I Title This Last Post, I'll Think of Something Better Tomorrow...and for the last month I've been changing and re-changing my mind (on the title, on the content, on everything but the font color...) But here it is, folks, the swan song of Three Words Back.
I've barely announced that it's over, and already I miss certain aspects of having this blog - the spark of an idea, the physical need to sit down and get it all out on "paper", the discipline required to spend an extra five or fifty minutes to find the very best way to say it, and the pride in reading the finished product for the twentieth time and knowing that it reads exactly the way it feels. In fact, the two minutes spent in putting together that first run-on sentence was almost enough to make me re-think the whole thing...but the fact that it's even a question in my mind tells me all I really need to know - that it's time to retire the space known as Three Words Back.
This blog has been a lot of fun to write for and maintain. It started out as a cheap form of therapy for my particular case of the "quarter-life crisis" and evolved into a great creative outlet and a way to keep tabs with friends - some of which I would not have met without the blog. Whether I wrote anything or not, this site has been an integral part of my daily life for the last three years....but it's time to cut the chord and move on.
"Move on to what, exactly?" I hear you asking your monitor. Well, I've got some ideas. Ideas that won't come to fruition at this particular website. But I do have the lease on this one paid up for a while, so sooner or later I'll post some news about the next site.
Thanks for reading, and don't be an internet stranger.
The view from this balcony, which sits on the cliffs above Pismo Beach, is nothing short of stunning. And truth be known, every other adjective in the book was fighting for a spot in that first sentence. Beautiful, breath-taking, gorgeous...I could string them together in any order...no matter, they'll just serve as placeholders until I can also post some more photos.
It's a two-tone blue sky, underlined just above the horizon by one long slender cloud. The shoreline to the north carves a little farther out into the ocean. I watched the early rays of sunlight paint the water and the rocks while waiting on the coffee maker to do its thing. It's been almost two hours since sunlight reached this coast and I have yet to grab my camera today. Before I try another photograph, I want to try and commemorate this scene to memory. The whimsical flight patterns of the birds, the sound of the tides rolling in, and most captivating of all - California sky and the Pacific Ocean as far as I can see.
If I wrote poetry, I'd be spilling ink all over a lined leather journal. If I played guitar I'd be strumming away on the balcony and singing a few bars. But I get my kicks doing this, so between sips of coffee I'm casting a wide net for all the best words, sizing them up, and calling out their marching orders. It's not an easy assignment, though. All these words existed yesterday and the day before that, but I'm pretty sure that all the elements before me improvise fresh collaborations on a minute-by-minute basis every day. Such is the challenge for any writer though, trying to pin such a big world down with only the help of a few overmatched words.
I came to California to feel small again. To feel inconsequential - and yet, also a little invincible - with every whiff of ocean spray. To watch as the moon sends wave after wave rolling onto the beach, only to have them all fall back and retreat time and time again. It's even a little inspiring, if you think about it. Tides alternate high and low, but the water never covers all of the sand. But it keeps trying. And maybe it's not trying to conquer the shore so much as it is simply rushing towards land to meet it. Waves crest, then settle down to mingle with the coastline and it's like creation is having its own private party for all to see.
Yesterday I wondered about the life of the billion water particles making up a single wave. Do they spend their entire life cycle working towards reaching the shore just once? Or do they all regroup and take turns with each other in advancing on the land - returning again and again, the way we all go to work every day? My little reverie was broken up when I saw some kids hard at work, digging a moat for their new sand castle. I smiled, remembering how my own sand castles always had to have at least one tunnel. Whatever we are on most days, the beach seems to transform us all into something new - architects, poets, dreamers....I'm sure the list goes on. These days I'm happy as a dreamer.
It's been almost three hours now since I sat down at this table. The coffee is now long gone, and my stomach promises that I could be even wordier if I went and got some breakfast. And there's a new camera sitting on my bed, just begging to get a look at what it's been hearing about all morning. So for now I will drag myself away from this window view, but not before listening to a favorite song of mine that perfectly captures both the melancholy and the "sticky optimism hardening in me."
PCH One by the Pernice Brothers
Let's leave on Saturday, let's leave Friday night I can't promise I'm not really sure we'll be alright I don't know much but I'm not too messed up to see Baby you're the only thing I know I hate to leave Now I guess we never will, pull the trigger I dont care which myth we kill
Struggle through the S's, through the talents in the trees Through the sticky optimism hardending in me It might do some good just to wake up by the sea to the smell of breath and greasy hair and car seats Now I guess we never will, pull the trigger I don't care which myth I kill
Play the one that works out for the best and the best is always yet to come PCH One might be a catalyst of panacea... Play the one where no one's really gone, every answer's buried in a song PCH One might send a mending kit, I need some mending...
Let's leave on Saturday, let's leave Friday night I can't promise I'm not really sure we'll be alright Now I guess we never will, pull the trigger I don't care which myth I kill Play the one that works out for the best and the best is always yet to come
PCH One might be a catalyst of panacea... Play the one where no one's really gone, every answer's buried in a song PCH One might send a mending kit, I need somr mending... Play the one that works out for the best and the best is always yet to come PCH One might be a catalyst of panacea PCH One might be a, PCH One might be a, PCH One might be a catalyst of panacea...
PCH One might be, PCH One might be a, PCH One might be a catalyst...
And it is true what you say I live like a hermit in my own head But when the sun shines again I'll pull the curtains and blinds to let the light in...
Days like today I struggle to keep this blog alive. Because honestly, sometimes I think about throwing a Going Out Of Business, Everything Must Go clearance sale and then locking the doors one last time. There are days when I feel out of opinions, completely void of things to say or jokes to make, and Lord knows there are other places on the internet for you folks to read song lyrics. Three Words Back could be six feet under and the sun would still be moving around in circles, you know?
And it's not that today was really all that interesting. I skipped every part of breakfast but the coffee, I went to work, and then I ran some errands. Or at least I tried to run some errands. The dry cleaners here in Town Number Seven (is it Seven? I forget, so Seven it is for now) need a full week to get three shirts dry-cleaned. Seven. Days. People, Genesis 1 didn't take that long to unfold. Stop and think about that for a second.
Ok, moving on.
...
...
And for the last thirty minutes I've alternated between trying to remember what made me want to log on in the first place and reading dumb articles from around the internet. So for now I'm signing off and popping in a dvd.
Oh writerly impulse, why must you visit me at the most inopportune of times? When I am harried with first week activities at a new branch, and a little unsure if I'm coming or going? When temperatures are flirting with negative numbers and the wind threatens to carry me off to Pennsylvania? When I should be concentrating more on a shower and a shave instead of a subject and a verb......
