Another Year Wiser... ("Void" by Melanie Martinez)

Doubtful, but here we are. Like it does every year, my birthday rolled around again....about two months ago. If you can believe it, I did start writing this in July so....can I count that as progress? Whatever, I'm counting it. You know those fairytales where there's a wizened old woman who lives at the edge of the forest? I'm as old as those witches helped the young heroine on her quest. No, seriously - they were all roughly 37-years-old. People didn't live much longer back in the olden times. Cross my heart and kiss my elbow. Given the age of the typical fairytale ingenue is around 16/17, it does not surprise me that they would think someone of that age was ancient. I mean - just look at how Gen Z views Millennials. They steal all our childhood trends then call us cringe for telling them how things were before the Internet.

Pipe down with the noise, I cannot bear my sorrow

I hate who I was before

I fear I won't live to see the day tomorrow

Someone tell me if this is Hell

Somewhere a few years back, my line of existential questioning switched from "what am I doing with my life?" to "what do I enjoy doing with my life?" And the frustrating thing about it is I know exactly what that answer is but the bounds of time to enjoy those simple pleasures are suffocating. Is this Middle Age? Ugh, it feels gross. It doesn't feel like I've been alive this long...but I have and I'm both impressed and horrified. From my perspective, I'm a teenager stuck in a (near) 40-year-old's body, unsure of what lesson I was supposed to learn to end this Freaky Friday. I'm not grown up enough to make these decisions! Someone, get the manager! And then I realize - oh shit! - I am the manager. I girlboss'd way too hard and now I'm only seven promotions away from being the CEO of a whole company! I'm exaggerating, of course. Yes, it is only 7 promotions, but I'm at a level where it's highly unlikely I'll get promoted unless someone really fucks up (or leaves under mysterious circumstances, which happens disturbingly often). I'm unsure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. All I know is this ambivalence I feel could become a problem.

Like a priest behind confession walls, I judge myself

Kneelin' on a metal grater

Bloody, like a body that has died, and it's myself

Tangled in my own intestines

I realize I never gave an update - I did, in fact, get that promotion I was hoping for back in March. And the raise they gave me wasn't too shabby - they met my (rather high) expectations and effectively brought me up to the same level as other ISSMs. Even so, mo' money, mo' problems. I'm at a point where I'm starting to see the cracks in the foundation and the flaws of our leadership really close up, and it's kind of terrifying. At my last job, our head honcho would have these Section Lead meetings and our four-panels had a section for "Whirlwind." Whirlwind, in corporate speak, is all the stuff - the little fires, the last-minute tasks, the unforeseen consequences of a past decision - that is creating chaos in an otherwise perfect plan. My workdays sometimes seem like nothing but whirlwind. And my direct supervisors (yes, due to uncommunicated corporate reorganization, I've changed supervisors more than once in the last year) are never the leaders I need them to be. Involved, but not overbearing. Reachable when I need them to be, but otherwise letting me do my own thing as a leader. Provides feedback regularly and recognizes how hard I'm working. They always lack the teeth I'm desperately hoping they have. The lack the insight and vision I have but am too low on the totem pole to convey, because it's still way above my pay grade. And yet I keep doing it anyway. I'm burnt out. I'm so burnt out, I read a whole book about how to make it better ("Burnout" by Emily and Amelia Nagoski).

Baby

I'm spinnin' around the corner

It's tastin' kinda lonely

And my mind wants to control me

I chose "Void" as my song of the year primarily because I was already feeling this energy when I started writing in July. I also in soulful agreement with the following lyric in the chorus: I gotta escape the void, there is no other choice.

The truth - my truth - is that I envision a totally different reality for myself. It revolves around writing and creating, which - while being one of those fulfilling outlets cited in "Burnout" that can relieve the overwhelming exhaustion I feel - is simultaneously incredibly hard to do when you're feeling burnt out. It's not even about the time factor. I only need 15-30 minutes a day to make progress! It's that my brain is literal mush when I get home from work. Couple that with having high standards for the work I release and the fear of being seen, and it becomes a vicious cycle continually leading me to feel so disappointed in myself. My seeming lack of discipline. My poor time management skills. My lack of focus. Then, of course, the fear I lack talent. I could go on but, to be honest, I'm a bit tired of punching myself in the gut for being exhausted all the time and for failing to be a creative in a system hellbent on destroying anything and everything, as long as it's profitable. I'm tired, but I'm trying. I want to believe it's worth doing the thing just to say I did the thing. I'm trying to uncouple my writing practice from the need for anything to become of it. One of the podcasts I listen to cited an Aleister Crowley quote to describe the guest's success from projects that initially began as aimless. “For pure will, unassuaged of purpose, delivered from the lust of result, is every way perfect.” Thus, writing for no other reason than to write will manifest this new reality I'm craving. Hey, a girl can hope.....

C-c-c-collect

My fickle insecurities

And turn them into beauty

Alchemize the dark within me (ah)

Before this turned into a rant about my shortcomings, I was going to go over what my Solar Return chart looks like. Well, we're several paragraphs in already, so I'll try to keep it to the Cliff's Notes. I'm in a 2nd House profection year, so heavy emphasis on income, values, and purpose. Cancer is the sign in my natal 2nd House, which means the ruler - the Moon - is my timelord for this year. That means every time the moon shifts into a new sign or makes a critical aspect, it's significant in some way for my life (Oh, goody...). My rising sign for this solar year is Taurus, placing the Sun in the 3rd House, so the other big themes for this year are Community, Communication, Siblings/Extended Family, and a lot of other Mercury-related stuff. It's not surprising - my sister is getting married this year and (as previously noted) I'm trying to put more emphasis on my writing goals. The Moon was almost at the New Moon in my solar return chart, so a New Beginning related to the 3rd House topics is likely to happen this year. With my ascendent-descendent on the Taurus-Scorpio axis, it's a very stable year in terms of self and partnerships. A quite grounded, sensual, deeply loving energy - that's what I normally associate with this axis. 

Pluto is squarely on top of the solar return Midheaven in Aquarius, so some innovative transformation is in store for my public image and possibly my overall career. My natal Midheaven is in Aquarius (9th House - Higher Education, Philosophy, Religion, Publishing), so this possibly represents a pivotal moment in that area of my life. Finally, Jupiter is in Gemini (finally), which is my natal 1st House and is the 2nd House in my 2024 solar return house. Good fortune and blessing around my identity, income, values, and possessions. Overall, the aspects for this year were largely beneficial but the scattering of placements is kind of messy. I feel like that's a metaphor - the year will feel chaotic but things will likely end in a good place for me. At least, that is how I'm choosing to see it. 

I gotta escape the void, there is no other choice, yeah

Tryna turn off the voices, the void ate me

Look at the mess I've done, there is nowhere to run, yeah

Holdin' a loaded gun, the void

Part of my new birthday tradition is to make a playlist celebrating me and where I am at that given moment in my life. A sort of time capsule, if you will. Check it out if you want - Jessica is Awesome! Mix, Vol 2: In My Feels. 

"Void" Music Video

Accept the Loss ("Let It Go" by Lo Spirit and Chandler Leighton)

One of the actionable habits to reach my writing goals in 2023 is to read more books about the writing process and put the knowledge to use in my own writing. Thus far this year, I've read "Bird by Bird" by Anne Lamott and recently, I finished reading "Writing Down the Bones" by Natalie Goldberg (and I read this because it was recommended in "Bird by Bird"....you gotta follow the breadcrumbs). I loved "Writing Down the Bones" because - in addition to her advice being both practical and easily digestible - she describes the process of writing as a lifestyle. Because that's what it is. It's not a habit, it's a way of looking at life. And that's how I've always seen it. I write because I have some sick obsession around releasing my thoughts and my story into the void. Although I'm grateful for you (i.e., whoever is reading this) and I hope you get something out of it, I honestly don't care if anyone reads it. The mere fact that it's out there is enough. Every published post brings with it a relief I've rarely found in any other part of my life. But there's also a pain and a struggle to it that isn't easy to convey.

Goldberg draws a lot of her guidance for writing from other writers. Sounds legit - I do the same thing. I follow a number of other writers on Instagram, from aspiring novelists like myself to more established authors (reference my rant about V.E. Schwab earlier this year). In "Writing Down the Bones," one of the chapters defers to Jack Kerouac's advice for better writing and she identifies four that have shaped her writing journey:

• Accept loss forever.
• Be submissive to everything, open, listening.
• No fear or shame in the dignity of your experience, language, and knowledge.
• Be in love with your life.

Guess which one I've struggled the most with, especially in recent months.

No peace of mind

It's all I've ever known

My hands are tied

I pretend I'm fine

But my thoughts aren't my own

So I just lie

'Cause I hate not bein' in control

Accepting loss feels too much to me like giving up. And I really don't like giving up, not when I've put so much hope and time and devotion into something. Not when it means leaving something that was supposed to be wonderful unfinished, because leaving it unfinished means it wasn't as wonderful as I thought it was. Not when accepting the loss means that I sunk so much effort into a situation that maybe wasn't worth it. I have to remember this is a normal human experience. So normal, in fact, that it has a name - the "Sunk Cost Fallacy." After investing so much time and effort into something - a relationship, a home, a job - we are reluctant to abandon it, even if doing so would be more beneficial. Even if walking away from the thing will eventually make you happier than you would be if you stayed. So we stay and we throw more time and energy away, hoping it will get better, even though we have a sinking feeling it won't, despite our best efforts.

Natalie Goldberg explains it is important to accept the loss because only then can you process it and use it for inspiration. When something is on-going, we're hesitant to write about it. We're too worried about what other people will think. Or maybe the situation will get better and we'll regret what we wrote because it casts others in a negative light, even if we were writing from a place of honesty and authenticity. Or, most often, we're holding onto a fantasy that provides comfort, even if it's not the most helpful thing for us. If we write it down, all the delusion fades and what you're left with is broken shards of reality for us to examine. That guy wasn't Prince Charming, he was a narcissist who played on your earnest belief in true love and soulmates. That workplace wasn't your second home, it was where your hard work was exploited and devalued. Your childhood wasn't all rainbows and butterflies, you just spent a lot of time in your imagination because you were severely neglected. Those sentences hurt, don't they? Good. Now that you've pulled the knife out, you can heal.

All I do is, all I do is, run away from, run away

All the things that I can't change, like

Growing older, growing older, being scared of, being scared of

Losing friends and staying the same

Waitin' to feel like I'm someone again (Hm)

(I'm just waitin' to feel something)

'Cause I'm tired of bein' the way that I am (Oh)

I learned recently that it's pretty normal to forget about childhood and, inversely, when people do remember things about their childhood, it's usually the traumatic stuff. Even people with an abnormally good memory (and I would count myself among those people) tend to forget as they grow older. Things are supposed to get fuzzy and less clear. Taking that into consideration, I remember nearly all of my childhood. Sometimes so vividly that I have to remind myself it was a long time ago. There are good memories but I realize now huge swathes of that time were not normal things for children to experience. This is one loss I've accepted - I will never get my childhood back. However, what I'm finding is that - after I accepted this - I've really started to understand how my childhood shaped me. I have this intense fear of rejection, which results in either extreme attention-seeking or withdrawal. I simultaneously want others to know me yet hide who I am out of self-preservation. I seem like an open-book but I'm actually really secretive - I'm really careful about who I provide details of my life to. Even so, I'm not above admitting I've made a few bad judgement calls. And now there are people out there walking around knowing exactly how to manipulate me to get what they want. I'm trying to get over it, but accepting that loss - that I've misplaced my trust and must reap the consequences - is a hard pill to swallow.

And I can't seem to let it go

All of this noise gets stuck in my head (Stuck in my head)

And I can't seem to let it go

Tune it all out so I can forget

But I can't seem to let it go

I've thought about writing a fictionalized (or maybe even a partially honest) version of events down, in these situations, like Anne Lamott suggests in "Bird by Bird." It's my story, why shouldn't I? Anne Lamott would say fuck the other people involved, tell the truth - but fictionalize parts so you can avoid lawsuits. (This is a paraphrase but that's the gist of her advice towards the end of the book.) You're not writing it down for them, you're writing it down for you. But that seems decidedly one-sided to me. It's not the whole truth, only one part - should I really write down my naive, delulu (gen Z for "delusional") perspective on the roaring (and at times, boring) dumpster fire that is my life? There's a version of the story where Romeo & Juliet are star-cross'd lovers doomed by fate and a version where they're stupid, selfish teenagers. Both versions are true, in some sense. The truth is always somewhere in the middle and more nuanced than we realize. 

Maybe the solution is to write down both. And let the reader decide.

It's messed up

But I'm scared of what's in my head

And it's fucked up

That I'm scared of what's in my head, what's in my head (Oh)

I found Lo Spirit on Instagram when "Running up that Hill" by Kate Bush was having its resurgence of popularity and everyone was doing a cover of it. Lo Spirit did a cover that sounded (and this is how he advertised it) as if it was sung by My Chemical Romance. It's a great cover - highly recommend - and since I liked his style, I went through the rest of his discography on Spotify. He's a new artist so there's not much, but he's been gradually adding more as he releases stuff (which is often featured in his IG reels, as is true with all up-and-coming artists). I found "Let It Go" at that time and fell in love with it. But over this summer, I fell into a minor depression episode - a lot was going on, not least of which was the death of my beloved paternal grandfather - and I found myself playing this song on repeat. I'm feeling better after a couple months of good cries, self-care, and finally taking some actions I should've taken years ago. But when I was in it, the thing that frustrated me most was why I couldn't just get over certain things. Why I couldn't just move on from the situation? Why was I still hoping things - people - would change? It wasn't just sadness I was overtaken by, but a deep well of anger, carrying out shadow arguments in my head with people who weren't there and didn't care. And when I wasn't angry or crying, I was hollow. That was the worst part. I don't want to be just going through the motions. I want a life of purpose. Anyway, "Let It Go" gave voice to a lot of what I was feeling and became one of my favorite songs to pole dance to. It has a dramatic rhythm to it - it ebbs and flows with the verses, and then the bridge comes crashing down at the end (which is a good backdrop for some of the more impressive pole tricks I know). Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I did! Video below.

"Let It Go" Video

"Snuff" by Slipknot

So, I caved and joined Reddit. Initially, it was to share any notable Randonauting experiences I had but I found myself quickly jumping into conversations in the witchcraft, tarot, and astrology subreddits. I've learned two things - 1. Maybe I actually know a little something about these topics and 2. Too many people want to use witchcraft/tarot/astrology for things that require either therapy, communication, or both. Yes, spirituality and New Age concepts can be powerful tools for cultivating self-awareness and enhancing one's quality of life but you still need to do the work - the "work" being analyzing your subconscious programming and patterns and using the knowledge to actively change your behavior for the better. I've also been hanging around the music and writing subreddits for inspiration. I've been working on a short story (eh...more of a novella) inspired by "Horror of Our Love," tentatively titled "The Beast of South Boston." Apparently, the genre I gravitate towards writing is Horror/Paranormal Romance, so I've been looking for music that inspires that kind of vibe. Naturally, I found my way into a lot of Heavy Metal, which is how I ended up revisiting the collected works of Slipknot. And for the record, I find that the singers of metal bands often have the most lovely singing voices. David Draiman, Trent Reznor, Jonathan Davis, Chester Bennington, Corey Taylor - all very talented vocalists and among some of my favorites.

Bury all your secrets in my skin

Come away with innocence and leave me with my sins

The air around me still feels like a cage

And love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage again

So if you love me let me go

And run away before I know

My heart is just too dark to care

I can't destroy what isn't there

Deliver me into my fate

If I'm alone I cannot hate

I don't deserve to have you

Ooh, my smile was taken long ago

If I can change I hope I never know

Let's talk about these lyrics a bit, because they are intense. That's another thing to love about metal - a lot of the lyrics are beautifully poetic and fraught with meaning, in a way you don't normally see in other genres. "Snuff" exposes the vulnerability of someone's darkest thoughts. The plot is straightforward. From what I gathered, it sounds like the singer fucked up a relationship with someone he really loved and now he's angry she walked away. The song starts with his inner thoughts, which are super negative. He doesn't deserve her, she needs to leave him before he destroys her, he has a dark heart, and he doesn't care (except he does care...a whole lot), blah, blah, blah. He ends up pushing her away - however that looks like in his patterning. Depending on what core wounds he's operating from, this could manifest as addictions, withdrawal, or abusive behaviors. And, contrary to what some societal beliefs about love say, people don't have to stick around for that bullshit. In fact, it's unhealthy if they do. That's not love, that's trauma bonding. People who don't love you can stay forever (often because the relationship fulfills some need) and people who love you a lot may leave (because they love themselves enough to know enabling your destructive patterns is not good for you or for them). It may be counterintuitive but sometimes the most loving thing a person can do is leave. Alternatively, the most destructive thing they can do is stay. Unfortunately, leaving can make someone see you as the "bad guy," which is what happens at the end of "Snuff." Instead of taking the loss of a loved one as a sign to examine his own destructive patterns, he becomes angry that she left to "save [herself]," just like everyone else in his life. Clearly, he's not doing the work.

I still press your letters to my lips

And cherish them in parts of me that savor every kiss

I couldn't face a life without your lights

But all of that was ripped apart when you refused to fight

So save your breath, I will not care

I think I made it very clear

You couldn't hate enough to love

Is that supposed to be enough?

I only wish you weren't my friend

Then I could hurt you in the end

I never claimed to be a saint

Ooh, my own was banished long ago

It took the death of hope to let you go

Based on what I could find regarding the meaning of the lyrics, Slipknot vocalist Corey Taylor wrote it about a relationship that ended because of his self-destructive habits (drug/alcohol addiction fueled by depression and suicidal ideation). At the time, he was disappointed because she didn't stay with him, but it ultimately motivated him to do better for himself. Taylor still struggled with addiction throughout his life but as of late, he's succeeded in staying sober. I came across a piece of Internet wisdom I really resonated with recently (the person might have said it came from their therapist but I can't remember). Fear of rejection is fueled by the underlying belief you don't deserve what you want and fear of abandonment is the belief that you don't deserve to keep it. These two underlying beliefs often lead to self-sabotage. If you don't believe yourself worthy and deserving of good things, your subconscious will motivate you to ruin positive situations in your life. Alternatively, you may hold on to toxic/destructive situations because they are confirming your subconscious beliefs that you deserve bad things in your life. Your behaviors fuel self-fulfilling prophesies. Unfortunately, most people are so ingrained with these beliefs due to societal conditioning and generational trauma that they can't get off the hamster wheel without help. That's not a bad thing. It's not a bad thing to want to be better, but you have to take tangible steps to change.

And I won't listen to your shame

You ran away, you're all the same

Angels lie to keep control

Ooh, my love was punished long ago

If you still care don't ever let me know

If you still care don't ever let me know

I had my first counseling session yesterday. I almost cancelled it because I was feeling better (more self-sabotage). Not much better but good enough to cope on my own. I think I was mainly nervous about sharing personal things with a stranger and I was developing unconscious stories (I don't have time, it's not worth the money, I'm coping fine on my own) to justify cancelling. However, talking to someone neutral about thoughts and feelings I've been holding onto for what feels like decades felt amazing. I like the therapist they paired me up with - she's nice and we're in the same stage of life, so she understands some of the pressures I'm under. After a lot of shadow work, I'm hyper-aware of my own self-destructive patterns and subconscious programming. However, the changes I need to make seem scary and overwhelming. I know in theory that I deserve a happy, fulfilling life - believing that I deserve it and advocating for my own happiness (because I'm unskilled at prioritizing myself) is another story. I really noticed yesterday how difficult it is for me to voice my anger, resentment, disappointment, and hurt. My counselor had to affirm several times that it's okay for me to admit someone's actions hurt me, because that's my reality. In many ways, I still find myself apologizing for just being human. For giving everything I have to others and still feeling like it isn't enough. It's weird and scary, to take my own advice for once. I'm wired to take care of other people - I like it, it makes me happy - but I don't expect others to take care of me. And my life reflects it. My own self-fulfilling prophesy.

"Snuff" gets it's name from the genre of film where real murders are filmed. Naturally, the music video was shot like a psychological thriller - with a twist ending. The band's percussionist, Shawn Crahan, co-directed the video and included a cameo by British film actor Malcolm McDowell. For dramatic purposes, the music cuts out during the third verse, which is a music video editing tactic that really annoys me, especially when the song is this good. Highly recommend looking for the uncut version of the song to enjoy it uninterrupted.

"Snuff" Video

"Bleed It Out" by Linkin Park

I've been struggling with regaining the spark these past few weeks. Exhaustion has taken up a lot of my time and I hate sleeping all the time. I know my body is going through something but it's taking my mind with it. A whole month wasted like this, going to bed early and missing my morning pages because I'm still tired when I wake up. The problem with inspiration is that you have to feed it - that's why writer's block can last for months to years. You get caught up in the anxiety of not writing that you stop writing altogether. But, as Ernest Hemingway (might have) said, "writing is easy...you just open a vein and bleed." That's why Julia Cameron, in "The Artist's Way," insists morning pages are so essential. You're purging. Sure, it starts out mundane, because you think your head is empty (as I've increasingly felt these past couple of weeks). I had cereal this morning. I went for a walk. But slowly, as you build confidence, images build up and bits and pieces of your psyche start leaking out. Shattered fragments of something. Sometimes pain. Sometimes more pleasant. Sometimes truths you don't want to admit to yourself. That you're in love or heartbroken (occasionally both). That you're lost and afraid. Or that you don't know what to do. Or maybe you do know what to do, you just don't want to. After the stopper is removed on all that stuff, that's when the real inspiration comes. It's a long process. Cameron's "Artist's Way" course takes 12 weeks. Eventually, I'll be able to finish it. If I'm able to stay awake long enough. 

Yeah, here we go for the hundredth time

Hand grenade pins in every line

Throw 'em up and let something shine

Going out of my fucking mind

As I've said, my process is rather sporadic - usually triggered by music, but it's the visions I see when I hear the music that give me the inspiration. In a way, it makes things easier. Once there's a vision, I just describe what I can see and hear and feel. To be honest, I'm weak on smell and taste but I'm working on it. Otherwise, these pictures are fairly vivid, almost like memories. On Thursday, for example, I could see my arms, covered up to the elbow in slick redness. Blood, I'm assuming, but it could've been red corn syrup. I could see my face in the mirror, pale against a slash of dark hair, determined. It looked like a scene from a movie - my job now is to figure out where it belongs. I had an idea for a movie once - it was about a man who thought he was trapped in a stalker situation with a woman he'd been dating. The twist at the end was that he had a psychiatric disorder that made him paranoid and the woman was his wife. But the movie would initially be edited to be seen from his point of view, so that the audience would be convinced that the woman was a crazy stalker, too. One of my favorite French movies, "He Loves Me/He Loves Me Not," is laid out like this. The audience is made to believe that the main character (played by Audrey Tautou) is having a secret love affair with a man from her building but then the film is rewound and played from his point of view. From his point of view, they had an inconsequential encounter where he performed a simple act of kindness and she built an entire relationship from it. She has Erotomanic Delusional Disorder, which is quite common among stalkers and frequently comorbid with BPD. This was also the basis of the brilliant film, "The Crush," starring Cary Elwes and Alicia Silverstone. I realize I'm just ranting about films now, but to be honest, these feel like the most intelligent thoughts I've had all week so I'm just going with it.

Truth is you can stop and stare

Bled myself out and no one cares

Dug a trench out, laid down there

With a shovel up out of reach somewhere

This song is about how hard it is to create something good and meaningful. Mike Shinoda was speaking about writing rap lyrics, but I think it can be applied to any art, especially generative arts where you're trying to create something new. I've spoken about it before but to create something meaningful, you have to be willing to get vulnerable. To shake some skeletons out of the closet, to free those shadows. "Bleed It Out" isn't about physical wounds, but psychological ones, too. And to heal some wounds, you have to re-open them. It's like when a break heals incorrectly and the doctor has to break the limb again to set it correctly. Most of the time, we think something has healed because "enough time" has passed. But time doesn't heal wounds. You have to uncover and address the things that created them in the first place before any real healing begins. This is the aching process of repeatedly questioning your thoughts and your choices. Why did I go down the path that led to this pain? Was it avoidable? Why didn't I trust my intuition? What was I seeking? How do I really feel about the situation? And how do I stop the self-betraying behaviors? When you have the answers to those questions, it helps to write them down so you'll remember them the next time. Especially if you have trouble remembering. 

"Bleed It Out" Video

"Bad Things" by Jace Everett

I meant to feature this song during September, during the "Where have I heard that before?" theme but I ran out of month. This song is played during the title sequence of "True Blood." Before Netflix got really popular and added the "Skip Intro" option, the most recent Golden Age of TV also went hand-in-hand with the Golden Age of Opening Sequences. The best shows of the early 2000s - "True Blood," "Mad Men," and "Grey's Anatomy" - had iconic title sequences to start off the show and set the tone. Netflix has been trying to bring that back - all of the Marvel shows had pretty brilliant title sequences, as do many of its other shows, but - let's face it - people don't feel like that's worth their time anymore. Which is a shame, in a way, because I know someone works really hard on those intros who I'm sure is super proud of what they created. As I was saying, the "True Blood" title sequence was wonderful, partially because of this song and partially because of the imagery used in the sequence. First off, this song is indelibly sexy, which is perfect for a show where the sexual undertones were a key factor for both its popular appeal and subject matter. All paranormal romance - no matter how "wholesome" the author tries to make it seem (lookin' at you, Stephanie Meyer and "Twilight") - is about society's uncomfortable relationship with sex. Particularly the "wrong" kind of sex, which is usually outside the confines of marriage and with people it shouldn't be with. Vampires and werewolves have an especially torrid subtext, which is why they are featured most often in these types of stories. Vampires often have powers of mind control and hypnosis - in a psychological context, seduction (even the non-paranormal kind) is about using sexuality to influence the behavior of another for your own benefit. Vampires do this prolifically, often with horrifying consequences for the victim. Werewolves, on the other hand, get at the animalistic side of human lust and the fear of not being able to control our urges for another. Again, the underlying context is that carnal lust leads to extreme pain, shame, and heartbreak for both the object of lust and the person trying to control it within themselves. The lyrics to "Bad Things" combines both of these concepts perfectly into one badass country song.

The second reason the "True Blood" intro is awesome is the imagery. As I've mentioned, I love the Southern Gothic aesthetic and the title sequence plays the song against a series of images that sum up the underlying contradictions of this style. The wholesome, hospitable image of the American South contrasted starkly against the unsavory underbelly of its history and culture, along with the heavy occult themes that give the region its distinctive flavor. "True Blood" takes place in a small town in Louisiana, deep in the bayou, where the locals seem normal enough until you get to know them. For every church, there's a seedy strip club or bar. For every welcoming face, there's a hidden viper pit of contempt and suspicion. The cinematographer very cleverly inserts an image of a Baptist church with a sign that says "God Hates Fangs," a play on the vampire underworld the story brings to the surface and the very real bigotry towards the LGBT community that exists in the South. Bigotry and standing up against it is a central theme in the Sookie Stackhouse series that Charlaine Harris used her writing to draw attention to. The diversity of characters in the world that Harris has built is definitely something to emulate as a writer. This dedication to showcasing the range of personalities within Bon Temps carries over into the show. The show does not really follow the books and, weirdly enough, it's one of the few instances where that doesn't bother me. The screenwriters took the idea - what if the invention of synthetic blood allowed vampires (and other supernatural creatures) to live out in the open? - and ran with it. Although the plot points changed a lot, they were true to the material and to the message of the story.

When you came in, the air went out

And every shadow filled up with doubt

I don't know who you think you are

But before the night is through

I wanna do bad things with you

I'm the kind to sit up in his room

Heart sick and eyes filled up with blue

I don't know what you've done to me

But I know this much is true

I wanna do bad things with you, okay

The lyrics are fairly straightforward. A man is hanging out in a bar or wherever....I don't think the lyrics mention a bar specifically, but I like to picture a dive bar with wooden accents, pool tables, and dirty glasses. And possibly a pay phone. Yes, there is definitely an old-school pay phone for some reason, even in 2019. Anyway, there's a man - probably wearing jeans, a leather jacket, and cowboy boots - sitting in a bar, minding his own business. Then, a woman walks in. He doesn't know who she is, all he knows is she's beautiful. And she has dark hair, because all femme fatales have dark hair. It's a weird theatre trope that everyone follows - ingenues (good girls) have blonde hair, femme fatales (sexy troublemakers) have dark hair, and redheads are wild cards - and when you know about it, you see it everywhere. Look at any movie with Megan Fox, Angelina Jolie, or Eva Green - all excellent "femme fatale" type actresses. Moving on, she walks in and he's just consumed by her presence. He can't think of anything but bending her over one of the tables, lifting up her skirt, and just going for it. But he writes a song about it instead of talking to her. Because he's lame, in spite of his sexy voice. Obviously, I've pictured this scene a lot. It's a good scene.

And, thus, I reveal the guiltiest of my guilty pleasures. I read a surprising amount of paranormal/fantasy romance novels. I call them "junk food" books but the truth is, after reading a classic by Jane Austen or Victor Hugo, your brain needs a break. I can read these novels quickly (usually within a weekend, if I have enough free time) and they're always fun to read. Also - and I'm just now realizing it - but this is basically my genre. It's what I feel most comfortable and skilled at when writing. As much as I'd like to be super literary and write the Great American Novel™, I enjoy writing about horror, magic, fictional monsters, and sex. And the best advice I've ever heard on writing is you should write what you know and what you would enjoy reading. Write for yourself. And so I do.

"Bad Things" Video

"True Blood" Title Sequence

"In Hell I'll Be Good Company" by The Dead South

Another one of my son's favorite songs. He insisted on watching this video on YouTube one day - turns out this band is awesome. And my three-year-old's music street cred has been solidified. I'm a big fan of the Southern Gothic genre in general, but the music has this haunting quality that you can't get anywhere else. I don't know if it's the banjo or the honky-tonk piano (or the "jankily" piano, as I like to call it) but there is something about the genre that is extra spooky. Like you're going to meet the devil at the crossroads while carrying a six-string on your back. Or you'll run into a bar full of ghosts in that small town where your pickup truck breaks down. I love it so much.

Dead Love couldn't go no further

Proud of and disgusted by her

Push shove, a little bruised and battered

Oh Lord I ain't coming home with you

My life's a bit more colder

Dead wife is what I told her

Brass knife sinks into my shoulder

Oh babe don't know what I'm gonna do

I was thinking this week about the phrase "American Gothic," which is a misnomer. The truth is that there are so many sub-genres of what we call American Gothic, that it is necessary to differentiate. I ran across a tweet a while ago which sort of enumerated on the distinctions between the sub-genres. I've taken it a step further in my head and added some categories of my own. The United States, in comparison to other countries, is huge in terms of land. It encompasses multiple climate types and geographic layouts, so boiling all if it down into only one specific type of spooky is nigh impossible. You add the distinctive cultural make-up of each region in the US, and it gets even more complicated. I've attempted to identify the most obvious sub-types of American Gothic, as a helpful reference for myself and other writers everywhere.

• Southern Gothic - This genre comprises all the spooky parts of the South. Common themes/tropes include Civil War ghosts, haunted/cursed plantations, and Voodoo. The terrain is either the bayou or plantation fields - either way, it's very green. A lot of Southern Gothic revolves around New Orleans and Louisiana, because of it's rich, diverse culture, but it does extend into Eastern Texas and across to the Atlantic Ocean (below the Mason-Dixon Line, of course).
• Midwest Gothic - This genre subverts the wholesome image of the American farmland. Think empty cornfields and creepy scarecrows. Rusty farm equipment and creaky barn doors. Locals who keep to themselves and are hiding dark secrets behind their polite smiles.
• Southwest Gothic - This genre uses the typical Western landscape. Ghost towns in the desert with nothing for miles except Russian thistle (aka tumbleweeds) and bleached cow bones. Characters are the beautiful saloon girl ghost with the tragic back story and the gunslinger who failed to save her. Common themes/tropes include hanging corpses in the town square encircled by buzzards, Native American chants being heard mysteriously on the wind, and Brujeria.
• Appalachian Gothic - This is very similar to Southern Gothic but it takes place in the area encompassed by the Appalachian Mountains, which is most of the Northeast. The forest is thicker and greener, the terrain is more mountainous. I always think of the Hatfields and the McCoys - an American Romeo & Juliet story. So naturally, a trope would be young romances that ended tragically - ghostly young women in white wandering through the forest to meet their lover, dark shadows everywhere among the trees. The folk magic used (Pow-wow) is more based in Native American lore and old German customs, rather from the mishmash of Catholicism and Voodoo that is synonymous with Southern Gothic.
• Key West Gothic - This genre infuses paradise with dark history. The setting is white beaches and hidden caves filled with blue water (and possibly sea monsters). Common themes/tropes include dead pirates, cursed buried treasure, sunken ships, bloody slave revolts, and hoodoo. It's the beautiful young bride standing on the Widow's Walk as she looks out to sea for her missing husband. We'll throw abandoned lighthouses in this category, too, but it depends on the setting.
• Urban Gothic - This is a catch-all category for spooky American cityscapes. Think abandoned malls, dark alleys, drug-addled parties where there is just something off about the people you meet.
• Hollywood Gothic (aka L.A. Noire) - There's a specific category for this because of the tragic history surrounding L.A. and the development of the movie industry. It was a price paid in the blood of young girls with big dreams and mobsters with no limits. The setting is an abandoned Art Deco hotel well past its heyday. It's haunted by moviestars, aspiring actors, and their admirers. It's a waft of expensive perfume a waitress smells as she closes up a restaurant for the night. It's the Black Dahlia, bisected and with a fresh Glasgow Smile, being found on a crisp morning as the sun rises over California. It's a juxtaposition of opposites - glamour with gore, ugly scaffolding hidden beneath velvet fabric, fake smiles while a knife slowly goes into someone's back. Common tropes/themes are secret affairs, haunted hotels with ghostly parties, and cursed movie sets.
• Northern Gothic - This genre capitalizes on the desolation of the frozen North. The landscape is blindingly white, there's so much snow. Bodies get preserved in ice. And blood on snow makes quite an impact. And there's absolutely no one around to save you when you fall through the ice while ice fishing.
• Pacific Northwest Gothic - The genre involves thick forest full of unknown creatures. It's always misty here. Common themes include grizzly bear skeletons, glimpses of Sasquatch, and sparkly vampires (just kidding....) The Pacific Northwest is basically the American response to the Scottish Moors. Think packs of roving werewolves and camping trips that go horribly wrong. Rocky beaches with abandoned lighthouses (this genre also gets lighthouses).

I'm sure that's not everything. Perhaps I'll expand on this more later but I think this is good for now.

"In Hell I'll Be Good Company" Video

"Whatever It Takes" by Imagine Dragons

Beats per Minute: 68
Good for: Interval Training (or any other workout where you're actively pushing yourself)

My days are long. On a typical day, I wake up at 4am to do my Morning Pages, a practice recommended by Julia Cameron in "The Artist's Way" where you basically do a brain dump first thing in the morning by filling 3 pages up with writing. Preferably by hand. Numerous writers and artists credit this practice for breaking through their blocks. If it works, it works, so I do it. Then I go to work for 8 hours. Then I come home and do some housewifing - work out/run/do yoga, cook dinner, a clean a little, hang out with the family to watch something (usually "The Grand Tour" or one of several DC shows). Finally, I put my toddler to bed and head upstairs to write for another hour or two. Sometimes it's this blog, sometimes it's just in my journal, occasionally it's another project I'm working on. If I'm lucky, I make enough progress to feel good about finishing up by 9pm. Most days, though, I'm heading to bed around 10pm. It's rough but I'm not complaining. For months, I have written something every day and that's not nothing. I'm extremely proud of that accomplishment. Even if it means I look a bit tired most days.

I read awhile ago that if you want to be a writer, you need to write. And that stung a bit at the time, because I hadn't been. I would go months without writing a god damn thing, which sucked. It felt like I had given up. It felt like I didn't have any talent, like I was all talk and no action. It felt like I was walking away from a deeply held dream. When that happens, you have to have the courage to look at yourself in the mirror and ask the hard questions. Do you want this enough to endure whatever pain and dejection you might feel in the future? Is this what you really hope to accomplish in your life? Are you prepared to do whatever it takes? Surprisingly, a lot of people decide that - no, I am decidedly not willing or prepared to do any of that stuff. And that's fine. That's a choice we all have to make and as long as you're at peace with it, you're good. I would not have been at peace. And the primary reason why I know that is because of one thing - I look forward to waking up at 4am to write those stupid morning pages. And, even after a hellish day at work, I look forward to opening up a vein and bleeding onto this blog for you fine people to read. And, most days, I'm not even worried that nothing will ever come of it. I've learned to love the work, not the dream. And that is by far one of the most valuable things I've learned during my existence. Because you've got to dig in your heels and do the work. There's no way around it. Trust me - I've tried.

Always had a fear of being typical

Looking at my body feeling miserable

Always hanging on to the visual

I wanna be invisible

Looking at my years like a martyrdom

Everybody needs to be a part of 'em

Never be enough, I'm the prodigal son

I was born to run, I was born for this

I find a lot of understated wisdom on Twitter. Maybe it's the people I follow, maybe it's just because I'm open to seeing it. Who knows? But I wanted to share a few tidbits I like to remember when I'm feeling particularly sorry for myself. One of them I've already shared - Learn to love the work. The others are a little more metaphysical in nature, so I'll explain the philosophy as best I can.

I recently ran across a tweet which posited that "current desires are just memories from the future." I'd heard this before, that we feel that things are "meant for us" because we have them in the future. This concept is essential in manifestation magic, because it removes the anxiety and the feeling of lack when you want something so bad but it's not in your current reality. Anxiety and fear are the absolutely toxic to any and all forms of magic. That's something I learned very early on in my journey as a witch. It keeps you focused on what you lack instead of having faith that, no matter what happens, you're are going to get what you need in life - it just might not look how you expect. If you feed being anxious, then you're naturally going to be more anxious. In theory, believing that what you want is already on the way helps you to let go and allows things to unfold naturally. The saying goes that the best things happen when you're least expecting them. So don't force it because you don't need to. The only thing you should be focusing on is what you need to do next. Like literally. What do you need to do in the present moment to move forward? Cook dinner? Clean your room? Ramble for five pages? Great! Go do that and put your whole mind, body, and soul into it.

The next piece of Twitter wisdom I wanted to share was something I read yesterday morning. Someone tweeted that you shouldn't be afraid of growing old, but be grateful instead, because so many people didn't have that opportunity. They didn't get the opportunity to fret about gray hairs and wrinkles. They didn't experience the frustration of raising a very energetic little boy. They didn't get to be annoyed by their coworkers over small and ultimately meaningless mistakes. And when you look at it that way, it's amazing how many things we have to be grateful for. And gratitude is essential for long term happiness. It's funny - today, someone asked how old I was and I just rounded up. I said, "I'm almost 32." The voice inside my head was screaming "I'm 31 and a half!" like a little kid. That's one of my favorite take-aways from "Stranger from a Strange Land" - this concept that, at 31, I am still "only an egg." I'm still learning, still growing, still have so much to do and see. And my grandmother just turned 95, so I'm pretty confident that I have a fairly long life ahead of me so worrying about growing old is a bit premature. It's a waste of energy. What good does it do? Time is going to march on, regardless of our protests. Might as well embrace it and enjoy the ride.

Hypocritical, egotistical

Don't wanna be the parenthetical, hypothetical

Working onto something that I'm proud of, out of the box

An epoxy to the world and the vision we've lost

I'm an apostrophe

I'm just a symbol to remind you that there's more to see

I'm just a product of the system, a catastrophe

And yet a masterpiece, and yet I'm half-diseased

And when I am deceased

At least I go down to the grave and die happily

Leave the body and my soul to be a part of thee

I do what it takes

Closing out this post, this song is about pushing through and putting in the work to accomplish your dreams, regardless of how much "suffering" you have to go through. As I said, you just have to figure out what to do next. The rest will sort itself out on the way.

So what do I need to do next?

I need to go the fuck to sleep.

"Whatever It Takes" Video

"Born for Greatness" by Papa Roach

This is a good song to listen to on those days when you don't want to do much. When your bones and blood and brains just refuse to move. The days when inspiration won't come. I've learned that those are the days you have to work the hardest. Be warned - I feel a major rant coming on and it's a doozy.

I love writing. And I kind of hate writing. I love writing when it comes easily, when my word wizardry knows no bounds and plots just form themselves. When the infinite ideas in my head flow easily from my fingertips and characters are more real than actual people. That feels amazing! Unfortunately, for every day where that happens, there's at least one day when my mind goes blank. When all the dialogue I write feels contrived, when every story I think of seems like something I read somewhere else or saw in a movie. Days when I find myself staring at an empty Word document, screaming at myself, "What are you doing?! You have absolutely no talent, why even fucking try?" Yeah, the things our brains tell us are something else. Brains remember all the cruelest things that people ever said to us, tell us we're all the worst things we can imagine. Brains show us exactly where all the lines we shouldn't cross are and then make us fear what will happen if we try to cross them. Brains tell us to be afraid of being who we are, because everyone is sure to hate that person. It took me a long time to learn that a lot of this is bullshit, mostly because I had someone else (someone I was supposed to trust and who I thought loved me) telling me all that same stuff.

I've been reading a lot of shit about being your "authentic" self. You can comb that stuff for days but one thing is for certain - you can't be authentic if you're stuck in you're head. And I don't mean stuck in your head with daydreams and fantasies (most of these hippie-dippie sites agree that daydreaming is good for you), I mean stuck in your head with the anxiety and the negativity and the mean stuff. Yes, that stuff might still be in there (in fact - just from my own experience - I guarantee it will be for a while), but you can't let it take over. You can't let it own you. You have to be stronger than it. So how do you do this? Well, you cast a Patronus charm. Duh! You knew I'd find my way back to Harry Potter, so don't act surprised. 

But seriously, the foundation of a Patronus is happy thoughts and the pure, unadulterated will to overcome fear with light. However, that's a whole lot harder than it sounds, because science has proved we are hardwired to remember bad memories over good. It's a survival thing - good things aren't a threat so why bother remembering them? Meanwhile, forgetting that fire is hot or that those berries made you sick could kill you. Objectively, that is more important. But, if you can humor me for a moment, consider that awful thing your brain is telling you, then choose a memory that makes you happy. Something that helps you remember that the awful things aren't true. I, personally, feel that happiness where my heart is. I don't know how to describe it, exactly, but it's a sort of pleasant heaviness. There's also a gentle knowing feeling, like I know what's true and that's all I need to succeed. Coincidentally, it's the same feeling I associate with Love or Faith. If you can hold onto that feeling for a little bit, it'll get you through whatever you need to do. I'm not saying you won't need therapy or medicine - some people do and that's okay. But, if it ever gets to a point where you need a little extra help, a Patronus charm can take you a few steps farther than you otherwise would have.

Back to what I was ranting about....What do I remember when it's too hard to write? I think of the paper I wrote on mitosis in 8th grade and about how, when my science teacher gave it back to me, she grabbed my hand and said, "You should be a writer. You're too talented not to be." That's what's real. None of the other stuff.

It doesn’t matter if the world has gone mad

If we just hold on, if we just hold on yeah

The sky is falling and the world has gone mad

And we sing our songs, and we just hold on yeah

So if you’re running, stop running

One life, one chance, start living

Sing it louder just to let the world know

No, we’re not nameless, we’re not faceless

We were born for greatness

I really like the chorus to "Born for Greatness," especially the first couple of lines. I don't know - it just kind of feel like the world has gone mad, sometimes. But I feel balance coming - maybe we can't see it, but it's coming. Perhaps it's more of a tipping point, really. The last couple of years have felt really sludgy to me lately for some reason. Yes, I believe that was the right word to describe it. I think it's easy to let the darkness consume us, sometimes - heck, maybe we even want it to, because it feels familiar, because it's all we've known for a long time. But the light feels good, too. There's two beliefs that keep me going most days - we're all interconnected and everything happens in cycles. Remembering we're interconnected keeps me from giving into my worst instincts and being cruel to people, because any harm I do to them ultimately reflects back to me. And remembering that everything happens in cycles keeps me from being sad when something ends, because there's a new beginning around the corner. I guess that's just believing in balance, just phrasing it in two different ways. And that's what our highest self wants to understand - there can be no pleasure without pain, no happiness without sadness, no light without the shadows.

"Born for Greatness" Video

"Dreams" by The Cranberries

There are two types of people in this world. People who love Meg Ryan movies....and people who don't. I'm one of the former so expect to see another Meg-Ryan-movie-related song to come up later this month. One of my favorite movies is "You've Got Mail," which is based on a old Jimmy Stewart film, "The Shop Around the Corner." It's basically the same plot, except that "You've Got Mail" is set in the late 90s and the plot centers around email instead of the standard post. Obviously, you know I think it's a great movie but, if I had to choose one scene, my favorite part is at the beginning.

There are certain rules that romantic comedies - and most romances, now that I think of it - have to follow. I've mentioned it before but the number one rule is that the two lovers have to be different but, somehow, the same. And usually, they want the same ultimate goal - to be free, to have adventures, to be successful, to be able to marry for love, whatever. The differences arise in how they have chosen to go about achieving that end goal, which results in complications for their love story that have to be resolved before they can be together. It's usually not as obvious as it is in "You've Got Mail" - in the movie, Meg Ryan plays independent book store owner, Kathleen Kelly. Tom Hanks (it's always fucking Tom Hanks) plays Joe Fox, the owner of a chain of mega-bookstores who plans to open a branch in the same neighborhood as Kelly's little shop (aptly named The Shop Around the Corner, an homage to the film's earlier inspiration). Although business rivals in real life, they are internet pen pals who became fast friends on AIM one night. However, they don't know that, but the audience does and the fun is knowing that these two are secretly in love with each other and don't realize it.

Returning to why I love the beginning, this different but the same rule is adeptly highlighted in how their mornings start. They both wait until their respective significant others leave for work, they make a show of making sure their SOs are really gone, then they excitedly go to their computers and they wait patiently for the Internet to start (ah yes....that harsh dial-up sound does bring a bittersweet sting to the cockles of this old Millennial's heart). Kathleen and Joe both are hoping for an email from each other and get a rush of happiness when they see that their faith was not in vain. Throughout the movie, they tell each other everything over email - mundane things, happy things, their favorite movies - things normal people wouldn't tell a complete stranger. But they never run out of things to say and they are happy to have a person they can share their authentic self with, even if they never meet. Even when Kathleen thinks her pen pal stood her up when they had planned to meet...but he didn't! Joe showed up but Kathleen was so caught up in her personal drama of losing her family business because of Fox Books, that she doesn't catch on. That's another rule of romantic comedies - the guy is usually the first one to realize there's something there and initiate contact. It's usually like a love at first sight kinda thing during the Meet-Cute and it has to happen to move the story forward. He's also the one who has to bring the story full circle with the Grand Romantic Gesture.

And now I tell you openly

You have my heart so don't hurt me

You're what I couldn't find

A totally amazing mind

So understanding and so kind

You're everything to me

Oh my life is changing everyday

In every possible way

And oh my dreams

It's never quite as it seems

'Cause you're a dream to me

Dream to me

Went on sort of a side tangent there on the Rom-Com rules - we'll get into more of those thematic elements in later posts. As you can see, I've probably spent way to much time analyzing these movies but - what can I say? - I'm a writer and a film buff. That's what my mind does in its free time - it thinks deeply about seemingly meaningless shit. Like the opening to "You've Got Mail"....because I haven't even gotten to my favorite part yet! Yes, it's cute how Kathleen and Joe's mornings mirror each other but my favorite part is when they're walking to work. They take essentially the same route to their respective destinations and they keep criss-crossing but they never meet, they never even see each other. It brings to mind this idea that them meeting later in the movie is kismet - it's meant to be. Like things couldn't have happened any other way because they had to meet eventually. It was only a matter of time and everything that came before was leading up to that moment. During this criss-crossing scene, "Dreams" by the Cranberries is playing, which sets the perfect backdrop. It's wistful and upbeat, and these elements combined make the overall song sound...hopeful. Anyway, including this scene as one of the videos so you understand what I mean.

"Dreams" Official Video

Opening Scene from "You've Got Mail"

"Come Sail Away" by Styx

Staying on this theme of The Hero's Journey for this week, there is also a feminine version called The Heroine's Journey. I've been digging into this, because it is such a central narrative (and I've been gradually falling in love with writing again). It's basically the same thing, except it's more focused on self-acceptance. It's more conscious in that way, because the Heroine understands that there is something she's missing from her life from the beginning. She's probably been searching for it all her life but she usually doesn't start the journey in earnest until the reader meets her. I'm going to talk about a specific version of the Heroine's Journey, that of Lindsay Weir from "Freaks and Geeks." Unfortunately, the show only lasted a season but it was pretty brilliant and it's on Netflix if you're interested.

Lindsay Weir is the Smart Girl, but she's not sure she wants to be. That's the narrative her parents chose for her. However, that's not the only thing she is and she knows that, so as a way to rebel, she befriends a group of stoners. Mostly because the head stoner - played by James Franco - is cute. Thus begins her adventures and the show follows her and her brother, Sam, as they navigate the awkwardness of high school. Like all coming of age stories, Lindsay makes some mistakes, meets new friends that give her a new perspective, confronts conflicts with her family, has her heart broken, and breaks a heart of her own.

The heart that she breaks - Nick (played by Jason Segel) - was likely supposed to evolve into a full True Love story arc, had the show continued. Nick immediately falls for Lindsay when she starts hanging out with the stoners and he comes on a little too strong. Insanely strong, in some cases. There's a scene in one of the later episodes where Nick serenades Lindsay with a ballad. Lindsay is super embarrassed and while it is a little cringeworthy, it's also incredibly sweet and it's hard not to fall in love with Nick. That's the first time I fell in love with Jason Segel - the 2nd time was when he's singing a song from his Dracula musical in "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," and the 3rd time was practically every single episode of "How I Met Your Mother." And I don't even think Jason Segel is that attractive - he's freakishly tall and has kind of an average face. But he's funny and sweet and sincere in every role that he's in, which is why he makes a good love interest in romantic comedies.

I look to the sea reflections in the waves spark my memory

Some happy some sad

I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had

We live happily forever so the story goes

But somehow we missed out on that pot of gold

But we'll try best that we can to carry on

I went on a little bit of a rant there, so let's bring it home. I like to think that I'm following the Heroine's Journey in my own life, especially when I run up against experiences that bring me to my knees and make me address my darker shadows. I try to ask myself, "What am I supposed to learn from this?" I hate to say that everything happens for a reason, because that's not exactly true. Sometimes bad things happen to you or you make mistakes that seemed unavoidable at the time - yes, elements might've been out of your control but it's what you make of it afterward that becomes who you are. I read somewhere (pretty sure it was "Eat, Pray, Love") that Heaven and Hell are the same place, you just take different paths to get there. On one path, you choose happiness and self-love; on the other, you choose sadness and self-hate. Either way, the choice is yours to make.

"Come Sail Away" plays at the end of the first episode of "Freaks and Geeks," at the Homecoming dance. Lindsay's punishment for the events that transpire during the first episode is that she has to man the punch bowl at the dance. At the beginning of the song, it's clear that Lindsay is annoyed that she's in this situation and even a bit embarrassed of how she got there. But when it gets to chorus, she decides to go on the dance floor and just dance. By herself, for herself, damn whoever is watching and how stupid she looks. It doesn't matter, because she's having fun. She makes the choice that, even though she's in a shitty situation because of her own actions, she's going to enjoy where she's at. If you listen to the lyrics of "Come Sail Away," I don't think there's a better song to play alongside Lindsay as she makes this fundamental choice for her story.

Side note: I love Styx because I grew up with Styx. Yes, it's great music, but I was also a nut about Greek mythology when I was a kid. The River Styx is the border that separates the Underworld from Earth. The dead must cross Styx by paying the ferryman, Charon, and it was rumored that the waters could make one invulnerable. Achilles mother, a nereid, dipped him in the lake and he was invulnerable except for his left heel, which is what she held him by when she put him in the water. Obviously, there's a lot of meaning behind that name - rebirth, difficult journeys and - most of all - crossing over. One of my favorite writers, Elizabeth Gilbert of "Eat, Pray, Love" fame, has a favorite Italian word. It's attraversiamo, which means "let's cross over." I think there's a wise beauty in that choice.

"Come Sail Away" Video

Nick Serenades Lindsay

"Carry On Wayward Son" by Kansas

Yesterday felt like the longest day of my life. I'm pretty sure it was measurable - relativity was not on my side. Ten minutes seemed to last an hour and by the end of the day, I'm certain I aged at least eight months. Which is weird, because thinking back now, the last year seems like it moved with lightening speed. Can I hit rewind, please? Nope, can't, gotta keep moving forward, even if I feel a little lost. Honestly, I haven't felt this crazy since I was 19-years-old and - boy! - those were some crazy years. Fun years, true, but extremely turbulent. I don't have the luxury of going down that rabbit hole this time. I have people who are actually counting on me now.

Anyway, yesterday morning started off with "Carry On Wayward Son," which felt....appropriate. Because it is about moving forward, even as chaos closes in. For those who aren't familiar, "Wayward Son" is the theme for "Supernatural." They always play it during the season finale episode during a montage of all the madness the Winchester brothers encountered that season. I watched up to season 5, which is where the story arc the original writers imagined ended. After that, it seemed like the plot fell apart and they kept making episodes because it was successful, which is what most shows do. TV executives don't care that all stories need to end sometime, they just want to milk them as long as they can keep making money. I think "Supernatural" is still on TV, too. From my understanding, most of the people still watching it are doing so because the Winchester boys are hot. It's true. Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki might possibly be the two most handsome men on TV right now. In fact, I'm almost certain they are, because I have high standards. And, from what I've heard, they're also super nice - I have a friend who regularly goes to "Supernatural" fan conventions and has met the cast several times.

Once I rose above the noise and confusion

Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion

I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man

Though my mind could think I still was a mad man

I hear the voices when I'm dreamin', I can hear them say

Let's delve into these lyrics, shall we? Now, all progressive rock song lyrics are a little out there. It was released in 1976 - I expect nothing less than trippy weirdness. But, rough allusions to Greek mythology and too long guitar breaks aside, the message is poignant. I was talking to my friend/coworker about The Hero's Journey, which is simultaneously a master plot archetype and the name of a book on said plot archetype. It begins with the hero being presented with a quest - a quest the hero initially rejects, because they're comfortable where they are in life. Still, they are curious. Then, something happens which makes setting off on the quest unavoidable for our hero. On the journey, the hero encounters conflict after conflict, experiences the full breadth of life they were missing - happiness, sadness, betrayal, victory, etc. - and, all the while, they are growing. By they end, they aren't the same character.  They realize that, though they have learned much, they know nothing ("You know nothing, Jon Snow." One of my favorite catch phrases in GoT). They have grown to love people they wouldn't have thought they would ever meet. They've developed their intuition, gained trust and confidence in their own abilities, in their own strength. They have gone from protagonist to fully-developed hero. And their reward is the resolution at the end - the turmoil dissolves into inner peace, they feel fulfilled, and they can finally rest. If you're looking for it, most great stories follow the Hero's Journey. Harry Potter. The Lord of the Rings. Jesus. "Supernatural" is no exception.

The Infamous Winchester Smolder

Sam Winchester was just like you or me at the beginning of the series. Sure, his childhood was weird and dysfunctional but he was trying to be normal. And then his god damned brother, Dean, shows up, claiming his father was kidnapped and demons/supernatural beings are real. Sam tells him to basically GTFO. Then, his girlfriend - the girl he was going to marry - is murdered by a demon right in front of him. It would've been pretty traumatic, now that I think of it. Anyway, he has to go with his brother and confront everything he's been afraid of - the mistakes he's made, his fucked up childhood, and his inner demon (literally). He also has to face the fact that maybe he doesn't know what Reality and Truth are because every day, a new monster pops up. Every day, he has to believe in something he didn't believe in before. Holy shit! That's terrifying! And exhausting! It's understandable why some people would not want to do that. But, they should take comfort that there is peace at the end - assuming you're not on a highly profitable TV show. Poor Sam Winchester - that kid ain't ever gonna get a break.

"Carry On Wayward Son" Audio