HOW MANY DAYS HAS IT BEEN SINCE I WAS BORN, HOW MANY DAYS UNTIL I DIE?

love for the piano men is in the air this spring...




How many days has it been
Since I was born
How many days until I die
Do I know any ways
That I can make you laugh
Or do I only know how to make you cry

When the baby looks around him
It's such a sight to see
He shares a simple secret
With the wise man

He's a stranger in a strange land
Just a stranger in a strange land
Tell me why
He's a stranger in a strange land
Just a stranger in a strange land

How many miles will it take
To see the sun
And how many years until it's done
Kiss my confusion away in the night
Lay by side when the morning comes

And the baby looks around him
And shares his bed of hay
With the burrow in the palace of the king

He's a stranger in a strange land
Tell me why
He's a stranger in a strange land
Just a stranger in a strange land

Well, I don't exactly know
What's going on in the world today
Don't know what there is to say
About the way the people are treating
Each other, not like brothers

Leaders take us far away from ecology
With mythology and astrology
Has got some words to say
About the way we live today
Why can't we learn to love each other
It's time to turn a new face
To the whole world wide human race

Stop the money chase
Lay back, relax
Get back on the human track
Stop racing toward oblivion
Oh, such a sad, sad state we're in
And that's a thing

Do you recognize the bells of truth
When you hear them ring
Won't you stop and listen
To the children sing
Won't you come on and sing it children

He's a stranger in a strange land
Just a stranger in a strange land

OPPORTUNITY WAITS ME LIKE A RAT IN THE DRAIN...

I miss my monkey, a lot.
My bad spelling, grammar and taste is stinking up the place. Oh well...
Elton John has told me several times (this week even) that there is a place for a woman like me. I'm apt to believe him, as he seems to have done a pretty good job of finding a place for a woman like him. He has put on a few pounds and lost some hair (well, I guess that was happening pretty early on) and he still leaves his house and plays his pee-yanna for folks, and that's alright.
So what about that then? Leaving the house and playing my pee-yanna-tar? Too much, too much. I don't even know if the things I liked doing are really things I like doing anymore.
I was at my friends show the other night and her fella and I were talking and he said "You're really scared aren't you?" and I said "Yeah." he looked at me with genuine empathy and said "I'm really sorry about that." and gave me a hug. He gave me a hug like my best friend had just died, and as a matter of fact his best friend is dying right now and I hope he's doing okay in light of that...
I guess this blog has become some anonymous means for me to say that I am still here, as this electronic social simulation device satisfies so much more than...um, nothing . I write similar messages to the electronic mail addresses of people I know or have known but I don't think they're who I want to talk to. I haven't written a letter in a while, but the post office has been freaking me out lately. And for some melodramacticsocialanxiety reason I never feel like I have assurance the letter has been sent unless I bring it directly to the post office.

PS - this is a great molasses cookie:

1/4 cup molasses
1 cup brown sugar
1 egg
3/4 cup of melted butter
2 cups of all purpose flour (use white, whole wheat makes it not as delicious)
2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. grnd cinnamon
1/2 tsp. grnd. cloves

Chill dough one hour in fridge, make 'em the size you want and cook @ 375 for 8 - 10 minutes.

BEST STUDY MUSIC



BEST WASHING DISHES MUSIC

actually the entire Kala album is house cleaning genius...

WORST GOING TO BED ALONE SONG


BEST GOING TO BED ALONE SONG





I am circle forming/ I am not complete/I am the fucking pheonix - there is no defeat. - AXIA

And I sharpened my wits on a dead man's skull...