Being Amber Rhea

A.k.a. note to self.

I am extraordinary, if you’d ever get to know me…

In honor of the fourth anniversary of my divorce:

(And, honestly… I won’t always post Liz Phair songs!)

I promise it won’t be Liz Phair every time. (Maybe just most of the time.)

I never cry out loud,
I keep my tears to myself
But I woke up one day and I found my life had left me for someone else.
I guess it must be unhappy with me…

I figured if I’m going to post music with any sort of regularity, I should come up with my own regular title instead of ripping off Sara and Griftdrift with “Mood Music / Songs in my Head” as my title.

I want you to know I love you;
You’re my favorite thing from the past.
And all of those nights we spent together,
I never had such a blast…

Anyone could tell you were my instrument, he said, I understand you,
You wanna play me.
Everything about us had an innocence,
But everything around us was changing.

Each is relevant for a different reason, and viscerally reminiscent of a particular time in my life.

“Chopsticks” - Liz Phair

I met him at a party and he told me how to drive him home
He said he liked to do it backwards
I said, “That’s just fine with me,
That way we can fuck and watch TV.”

It was four a.m. and the light was gray, like it always is in paperbacks
He asked if I liked playing jacks
I told him that I was good to sixes
But all hell broke loose after that

I told him that I knew Julia Roberts when I was twelve at summer camp
We didn’t say anything after that
I dropped him off and I drove on home
‘Cause secretly I’m timid

“Fool’s Gold” - Bree Sharp

My head is heavy and bent like a crane
The wrecking ball blues are coming again
And Latham says, “Babe, you know life is a ride”
But living’s no fun when you’re dead inside.

I pierce myself to wake up my veins
I’d pierce my heart if I thought things would change
I’m just like a skin that’s been stung and restung
The campfire songs that are sung and resung
For a girl of my age why am I so numb?

I’ve been chasing a lie I was sold
Running down thieves and fool’s gold
These Christmas dreams are just painted coal

I’ve been swallowed up by greed, I’ve been spat upon by lust
If they ain’t playing with your money, they’re playing with your trust
And I’m trying so hard to stop sitting still
To gather the juice that’s been spent or been spilled
Find a spark in myself that hasn’t been killed
‘Cause if death doesn’t get you, then life surely will.

I’ve been chasing a lie I was sold
Running down thieves and fool’s gold
And these Christmas dreams are just painted–

We’ve been chasing a lie we were sold
We’re running down thieves and fool’s gold
And these Christmas dreams are just painted
Just painted, just painted, just painted
Coal

Talk about an early frost.

(Couldn’t find a video for this one.)

Carry on.

When NaDruBloDa rolls around, maybe I’ll finally let down all of my inhibitions and post all the shit I’ve always WANTED to post but never did, for various reasons. (Except the stuff I haven’t posted because I’m afraid it might get me sued. I doubt I’d get drunk enough to lose ALL sense.)

You know I’ve been trying to battle self-censorship, as much as I can. I need to sit back and remember, sometimes, what this blog was supposed to be for in the first place. A place for me to write whatever I want - and not have to worry about each and every word, turn of phrase, etc. and how it might be interpreted. Because fuck it all, this blog was supposed to be for ME, not for anyone else. And even though I’ve mostly gotten over the fact that, for example, my mom reads it (even though she says she doesn’t), because I’m a goddamn grown woman and I shouldn’t worry about whether or not I have a potty mouth around my mommy… but still, just in general, there’s a block there. I think it’s because I blog under my real name.

Just now, on my iPod, Liz Phair says: “Listen here young lady, all that matters is what makes you happy.”

This is stream of consciousness, while I wait for the software we’re using at work to come back up. (They had to do a server restart or somesuch bullshit.)

Here’s something seemingly random. I’m sick to death of people saying “There are tons of sex positive messages in this society, everywhere I look.” Sorry, no. Cosmo and Glamour aren’t the pinnacles of a sex-positive society. Paris Hilton ain’t it. GGW sure as shit ain’t it. Next.

I found this to be an interesting article. I know what the criticisms of it will be, and some of it’s legit, but goddamn, it’s a quick post on the web, not a master’s thesis. I will probably write about this in more detail later, but here is one of my favorite excerpts:

While American culture remains very puritanical and sex-negative - and sex is used to sell everything from car waxes to diet colas to Britney Spears’ “music” - pornography is one of the only genres that advocates for positive sexual experimentation, openness and expression. The porn that we need more of is the kind that portrays men and women as sexual equals and revels in the glories of mutual pleasure between willing individuals, whether involving one, two or more.

It also includes a reference to Ellen Willis. Kickass.

Also, here’s something I wrote on a thread at RenEv’s blog. The italicized part is me quoting another commenter:

*sigh*… for anyone who wonders why RE gets REALLY FUCKING ANNOYED sometimes…

It’s just that I question your motives as to why you prefer the work (really look deep inside - but it’s your choice as to how deep), and you say you have no problem having sex with men you do not fancy - why? I am just trying to understand.

See… if I were RE, I would NOT be able to remain as patient and calm as she does. I mean, *I* am sick of such questions, and I’m not even a sex worker! It gets old real fast when people are constantly demanding you explain yourself, MORE and MORE, no, look DEEPER, what are your REAL motivations, you must tell ME, I need to know, oh and let me pick at you JUST A LITTLE BIT MORE if you don’t mind…

- hey, why are you being so pissy?? Did I hit a nerve? Did I hit a truth you don’t want to admit to yourself??

Um, no, you were just being an insufferable asshole!!

This is how it goes.

And look, Anon? Best of intentions or not? I don’t really care at the moment, because this: “really look deep inside - but it’s your choice as to how deep)” just sounds REALLY assholish.

If it were me you were speaking to, I’d say, “Hey, fuck off! K thx bye.”

Speaking your truth is powerful. In fact, it might be one of the most powerful things out there that we as individuals can do.

Later I will post my pole dancing video and we can take bets as to who will be the first to talk about how falsely conscious I am. Oh, by the way, Kim says:

For our Becauses, we don’t need to explain and justify.

Matter of fact, our Becauses are maybe best kept to ourselves, at least in part.

Because sometimes, our Becauses belong in only in our souls, as trying to explain can change them in ways.

Anyway. Software’s back up. Gotta get back to work. I have so much shit to do today. I’ll be at work til 8:00, then I’ve got plenty of other stuff to do after that. I’m not complaining, just saying. Also, thank god for my iPod, or I think I would punch some of the people I’m sitting in this room with.

Reminder: Rusty and I will be on the radio Thursday.

You can make fun all you want, but the fact of the matter is, I love Christina Aguilera’s “Fighter.” Those lyrics kick ass. And I also think it would be an awesome song to pole dance to. (To which… Shut up, grammarians.)

Oh! And the next song that just came up on my iPod after that one? Liz Phair’s “Mesmerizing,” another personal favorite.

Jmac is always doing those “top 5 [whatever]” lists, so here’s one from me:

5 albums I could (and do!) listen to over and over and they never get old

• Chutes Too Narrow - the Shins
• The Sunlandic Twins - Of Montreal
• Satanic Panic in the Attic - Of Montreal
• Urban Hymns - the Verve
• Liz Phair - (you guessed it) Liz Phair

One of my favorite Liz Phair songs, “Shitloads of Money,” contains the following line:

It’s nice to be liked, but it’s better by far to get paid.

Now, if I may alter that slightly to reflect my own (current) views… hence:

It’s nice to do cool stuff, but it’s better by far to get paid.

And now, to completely butcher it beyond recognition…

It’s nice to do cool stuff, but it’s better by far to get paid to do cool stuff.

That’s the ideal scenario, anyway.

Apologies to Liz Phair.

I finally got the new Liz Phair album, Somebody’s Miracle. I know some people don’t care for it, but I have to say I heartily disagree.

It’s funny - the criticisms I’ve read about this album sound so similar to the ones I read about her eponymous album in 2003, that I start to wonder if the reviewers just got lazy and decided to rehash old articles. Hey, speaking of rehashing old stuff, let’s see what I wrote about Liz Phair a little over two years ago.

I don’t understand why Liz Phair’s new CD has gotten such bad reviews (or at least those that I’ve read). I bought it the other day, and it’s great! I think the “popular” media just has something against her. They first jumped all over her shit back when Exile in Guyville came out because it was sooo scandalous (omigod, she said “blow job”!!), then they criticized Whip Smart and whitechocolatespaceegg for not being as ‘raw’ as Exile in Guyville, and accused her of selling out. WTF? It’s obvious that they really just don’t know what to think of her because she doesn’t fit any pre-defined stereotype or category.

Yep, still applicable.

One of the things I like most about Liz Phair’s music is that it’s never stagnant. Her sound is always evolving, and she’s always finding creative new things to do. (Which is why it baffles me when critics accuse her of “selling out.”) And, as always, the strongest part of her music is her lyrics. Her intelligent and thoughtful songwriting is one thing that doesn’t change.

I would say this album’s lyrics are more mature, but that would imply that the lyrics of previous albums have been immature, which isn’t the case. Maybe a better way to put it is that Somebody’s Miracle seems more introspective overall than her previous albums (which, again, all carried a hefty dose of introspection).

Probably my favorite thing about the album is the transition from “Somebody’s Miracle” to “Got My Own Thing” immediately after it. Some might find the juxtaposition of the following lyrics confusing and off-putting… but I think it’s great.

First, from “Somebody’s Miracle”:

I never cry out loud.
I keep my tears to myself.
But I woke up one day and I found my life had left me for someone else.
I guess it must be unhappy with me.

There goes somebody’s miracle,
Walking down the street.
There goes a modern day fairy tale.
I wish it could happen to me.
But I look at myself,
Wondering if I’m just too weak
To have such faith in myself.

Then, from “Got My Own Thing”:

I’ve got my own thing.
Feel it, it is strong.
As short as people think,
But really it is long.

don’t have to wait for a miracle.
They say I’m pretty as a song.
I don’t have to save for a rainy day,
I know that something comes along (it always comes along).

The placment of these two songs right beside each other reveals something honest and real. Everyone has periods of loneliness, self-doubt, and fear; and everyone also has periods of self-confidence and happiness. One can follow the other with little predictability - that’s real life.

So, if I had to pick one word to describe Somebody’s Miracle, it would be honest. We here at Being Amber Rhea give it two thumbs up; Liz Phair rocks as hard as ever.

Tonight: Liz Phair at the Roxy. Oh yes, this will be a great show. The last time I saw her was in 1998, at NYU. And if I remember correctly, it was FREE (although my memory could be faulty in my old age).

Tonight’s show is not free, and there was almost a disaster. I could have sworn when I ordered tickets last week that I had bought two. But apparently I had bought only one. I discovered this when I opened the PDF of my (assumed) tickets, only to find that there was just one. I checked my receipt, and sure enough, only one ticket was purchased. Son of a…! Fortunately the show wasn’t sold out (and is general admission), so I ordered another on Ticketmaster’s web site just now. It’s a good thing I discovered my dumbassitude (yes, I’m lifting Tony’s word) now and not at, oh, 7:00 PM.

Also, Ticketmaster and their stupid “convenience charges” can proverbially lick my proverbial balls.

Tonight I drove to Borders. -Okay, first, a note of clarification: I spent the afternoon with Niki’s mom. We had lunch at Fazoli’s (yay!), then went to a new Super-Target, and then to her office at Time Warner Cable to clean out the refrigerator (sp?) in the staff room. And get this, she let me borrow her *car*! She said I can have the Passat until Monday night! (One of the first things she said to me when she picked me up at the hotel was, “I’m mad at you, you should have called; if I’d known that you didn’t have any means of transportation, I’d have given you this car!”) They have like 3 cars so it’s not a problem. But I was totally floored, I couldn’t believe it! So now I have a car and it was hilarious what a sudden feeling of freedom came over me. (That sentence was a grammatical disaster.)

Okay, back to the story at hand. I drove to Borders tonight and bought The Language Police by Diane Ravitch. I managed to read one chapter of it before the store closed. Fascinating topic, and one which I would like to blog about (ack! I used blog as a verb! not to mention ending a clause with a preposition!) at a later time. This entry is more ethereal (read: cheesy). So anyway, as I was driving back from Borders I was listening to Automatic for the People, which, to my good fortune, had been left in the CD player. I stopped at the traffic light at the intersection across from the hotel, and I sat there… and sat there… there was no one else around and the light wasn’t changing, it was like those crazy lights in Athens that refuse to change even when there’s no one else coming for miles. But as I was sitting there at that intersection, with no sign of any other cars or people around, listening to Find the River and looking around at the dark, still night sky, it was just… I don’t know, a moment. I sang along quietly with the song and everything just felt kind of right. -Actually, it wasn’t so much that everything felt right, but more like the absence of feeling, but in a good way… -argh, I can’t describe this, I was never meant to be a metaphysicist. Maybe you get what I’m trying to say.

I parked the car in the parking lot and it was kind of funny because it was perfect timing — Find the River ended as soon as I stopped the car. I got out and walked toward the hotel; there was a breeze coming up and who knows, it might actually rain tonight (I doubt it though). As I walked through the parking lot I felt profoundly okay. My line of sight into the future was completely blind, but that didn’t bother me. A couple was walking a little ways ahead of me and they just seemed like another part of the surroundings. I took a second and thought about not thinking, and then went on into the hotel.

Now I’m here with my faithful little iBook, listening to Liz Phair mp3s and relaxing. The feelings that inspired me to write this entry have dissipated a bit. Starting to worry again about things like whether I have to pay a $100 deposit to TXU, and where the hell my new cell phone might be, and if there will be any problems with the moving truck, and so on. But today was a good day (don’t worry, I’m not going to make any Ice Cube references) and for the most part I still feel pretty good. Here’s hoping tomorrow will be a good day too. [takes a swig of Sprite]

That reminds me of something else kinda funny and noteworthy. Last night we were somewhere (dinner?) and I said that I wanted to buy myself an iPod as a present to myself for getting a job. One of my fellow TCs asked how much iPods cost. I said about $250 (okay, I see now that they start at $299, but whatever) and he made a noise that was meant to convey his feeling that that was expensive. I said, “It’s really not that expensive if you consider everything you get.” He was like, “Yeah, but I’d rather spend my $250 on — oh wait, you don’t drink…” So we had a little laugh at that. I don’t know what the hell I would do if I *did* drink — I mean, I’ve been broke enough for the past few years as it is, I can’t imagine what a hole I’d be in if I had to account for a “beer budget.” I said something to that effect, and the response was something along the lines of, “Well we make adjustments, we all have our priorities…” Yeah, okay, anyway… I do want an iPod, btw. It will have to wait until after several paychecks because I’m gonna be racking up even more debt with this move, but hopefully sometime in the not too distant future I will be stylin’ and profilin’ with my mp3 player/hard drive/PDA/Solitaire console.

Wow, this is pretty long; I haven’t been this verbose in a long time. Here’s your referrer search-o-the-day:

 26 Jul, Sat, 14:12:06 Google: g3 for gay urban women from june 2003

As well as your daily dose of Liz Phair:

What if I’m not able
To put my cards on the table?
And would it liberate you
If you knew what I knew?

And that’ll be all for now!

We had “Apple training” today, and it was awesome (and that’s not even considering how painful yesterday’s “Microsoft training” was). The guy from Apple was great and was very thorough — and not only that, but he showed us stuff that would be really relevant to our jobs. People were particularly impressed by the Postscript basis of all OS X graphics. (But then, they were impressed by lots of things, so it’s hard to pick just one.) We even got to make our own short movies in iMovie, because they had enough cameras for all of us to use! It was awesome — my first foray into filmmaking. (And what a masterpiece it was, let me tell you. I should have saved it.)

I had more to say, but I’m pretty tired now. Another long day tomorrow; unfortunately it’s back to peecees tomorrow. :P Anyway, here are some more Liz Phair lyrics before I go to bed; she’s great.

I feel the sun on my back…
I smell the earth in my skin…
I see the sky above me
Like a full recovery…