Why does the thought of regressing to being a little girl seem comforting sometimes? Well, I definitely don’t have a bike with a banana seat, streamers on the handlebars, and a basket anymore. Wearing my hair in pigtails isn’t so hip these days (yet I still do it from time to time). And no one sings lullabies to me, although I bet my grandma would if I asked. Eh, it’s just not the same. But who other than Ingrid Michaelson could remind me of how great it felt? I heart this song and especially this live version.
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Yup, I like to be hugged. I like to hold hands (even with friends). I used to have a girlfriend who loved to hold the skin of my elbow between her thumb and index finger; I loved it back. I’m like a loyal dog that will love you forever if you wrap one of my curls around your finger. Weird, huh? This video makes me feel sligthly more “normal.”
Last year (wow, it feels good to say that), I developed a rather nasty tendency to be anxious and wound up. To make matters worse, I had lost a familiar outlet for relieving it, so the tension really grew like a weed. Luckily, a few weeks back I discovered an unexpected way of letting some of it go in the form of listening to jazz music. Well, not just any jazz; I went to hear my dear friend Harry Pickens play at U of L. My breath and thoughts slowed down, I felt calm, and later noticed I was smiling. I actually felt I had gained some energy when I left. Aaaaaah! THANK YOU HARRY!!!
No other holiday can hold a candle to Halloween! It’s a shame we don’t dress in hysterical costumes, give treats away to strangers, and illuminate weird carved faces into root vegetables more often. I should also add to the activities list: dance to sassy pop songs choreographed by amateur dancers who took a dance class once in college. Hey look, I got the shimmy down! Thanks Erin for the lesson.
You can see all of the photos from last night’s festivities here.
About every 6 months, I’ll hear a new song on the radio that hits me like a truck and I think it’s the best thing my ears have ever heard. I discovered this new Ray LaMontagne song on WFPK this week and was blown over. I immediately started day-dreaming about being the muse for the lyrical poetry (sigh, I’m such a girly-girl some days).