Day 38 : All Love-Ingrid Michaelson

I have been told that it is generally advisable to keep one's feet planted firmly on the ground--to find direction and purpose in all that one does. I have also been told that sensibility is a trait to be admired, and that a life; decorous and refined, ought to be prized as truly capital. I have come to find that this cannot possibly be true for everyone, least of all for me. No, I'm afraid that I must instead take a cue from the avant-garde pioneers of society and history's remarkable and sincerely excellent 'wild-women' by living a singular albeit somewhat strange life. It is not often easy to practice decorum when experimenting with the unprecedented. Am I right? I think I am. And it cannot be helped from time to time, when what is deemed proper or right so often contradicts what I think seems reasonable. So, in short, I will continue, as it pleases me, to do exactly what I like whether or not I ought to by any practical standards.

Song of the Day: All Love by Ingrid Michaelson

"Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love." APWBD

Day 37 : Alice's Theme-Danny Elfman

Song of the Day: Alice's Theme by Danny Elfman

"The Hallows, The Hallows. A desperate man's dream." APWBD

Day 36 : Run Fay Run-Isaac Hayes

Song of the Day: Run Fay Run by Isaac Hayes

"He cannot kill you if you are already dead." APWBD

Day 35 : Guilty-Yann Tiersen

I just thought of something. Suppose I were to change my identity completely and disappear for a year but stay in contact with two or three close friends through letter mail. Then after a year I write to them and explain that I am coming out of hiding and that I am going to find them. I tell them not to expect to recognize me because I have changed so many aspects of my appearance and I no longer resemble the old me at all. I tell them that I will find them when they least expect it in the most unexpected of places. During the year that I am in hiding I befriend a variety of new people of all different shapes, sizes, ages and ethnicities. Of the people I meet, I become very close with four of them: a 60 year old caucasian woman, a 9 year old black boy, a 24 year old red haired man, and a 43 year old half japanese half french man. I teach them everything there is to know about me. I tutor them in all of my likes and dislikes. I share all of my wildest thoughts and strangest ambitions. I teach them to talk like me and to think like me. They study my subtle mannerisms and learn to mimic them carefully. My old friend receives the letter that contains my resolve to pay an unexpected visit and is overjoyed. She carries on with her daily routine and waits for the moment that she will see me again. Months after receiving my last letter the fresh excitement of the possibility of seeing me begins to fade. She no longer looks around in the market for familiar eyes and cheeky smiles. Then at 3:47pm during a Classics lecture on the transience of human mortality a fly lands on the knuckle of her middle finger. She swats it away and looks for a moment to the clock on the south wall. Her gaze falls and is met by a red haired man sitting below the clock. She looks away but his gaze persists. This does not go unnoticed by her and for a while she does her best to avoid his stare. When she can no longer ignore it she looks back and meets his eyes unflinchingly. After a moment he smiles and nods.

Precisely 12 minutes prior to this strange encounter a middle aged asian man steps into a deli and asks a young lady for a ham sandwich. As she makes to hand him his dish he thanks her and says something softly that causes her to drop the plate. It smashes to pieces on the floor around them. The asian man smiles. Neither move to clean it up.

Both the asian and the red haired man claim to be their old friend and pen-mate. The women are at first unconvinced and think it a clever joke, albeit an unsurprising one from their crafty friend, but after little over an hour of the most convincing acting job these women have ever seen they begin to wonder whether they were right to so quickly dismiss the possibility that the person before them was me in disguise. After all, the men carry on my persona unfailingly and never cease to insist that they are really truly: me.

This goes on for several hours of testing conversation, reminiscing and heavy laughter. An all around splendid time is had by all. At the end of the meeting the two leave amicably and agree, mainly out of curiosity on the women's end, to meet again. The young women go back to their lives and continue to quietly miss me. Correspondence is maintained with the first several letters focussing on the hilarity and unusualness of the meetings. I reassure them persistently that they did in fact met me and not some impostor I had put up to the challenge. References are made where appropriate and the nice subtleties lend substance to my story. The women are always skeptical but enjoy the great mystery. Nearly three months after they are first visited I write to them again telling them to expect another visit sometime in the weeks to come.

The subsequent meetings are different for a number of reasons. For one, they take place at different locations and at different times and perhaps more significantly, this time the women are met by what appear to be an adolescent black boy and an elderly woman.

~These are hard times for dreamers~

Song of the Day: Guilty by Yann Tiersen

"You must be wondering why I brought you here." APWBD

Day 34 : Just A Friend-Biz Markie

Today I tested out my homemaking abilities. First I fixed a delicious salad for stand-in-husband; Ned. The salad, being far from ordinary, included orange and yellow peppers, fresh lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, avocado, pita chips, feta cheese, sliced ham, fresh pepper, LOTS of salt, and my newly invented dressing. Feel free to try it--combine mayo (of course), dijon mustard, lots of lemon juice, olive oil, salt, parmesan cheese, and fresh pepper. It sounds god awful, but it's delicious. I made sure that the salad was properly garnished and aesthetically pleasing--things that only a true "lady of the house" would fuss over. After cleaning the dishes and wiping the countertops I fluffed two pillows and even thought about vacuuming in heels. All the while I was really wishing that I had a pearl necklace and big hair. At the request of Neddy Bear, (it is all I can do to not vomit all over the place after using this endearment), I made a simply sublime two tiered fudge cake with cream cheese frosting. By this time I was really getting into the groove of the whole housewife gig. I thought, 'Why stop at cake?' so I made a big batch of Butterscotch Oatmeal Cookies. There's no saying where this day will lead me but I would be deceiving myself if I didn't admit that I am terrified at how successful I was at 'Project Homemaker'. I have come to two conclusions: 1) There is nothing I can't do and 2) I'm a catch.

Song of the Day: Just A Friend by Biz Markie. This is for all the Ladies in da house. Do yo thang.

"I see a light in the kitchen. Let us not deprive Molly any longer of the chance to deplore how thin you are." APWBD

Day 33 : Morning Passages-Phillip Glass

Do you ever find yourself wanting weirdness? I mean, have you ever discovered a love for those small and sometimes subtle encounters with the bizarre. I guess they're not always small events. Sometimes weirdness jumps out of the bushes naked and screaming. I find that these incidents are altogether more enjoyable when you have the great fortune of witnessing them alone. I think the event becomes that much more valuable when you, the viewer, are a private audience. You might not understand what I'm getting at and I wouldn't fault you for that but I think you are familiar with this experience. It could be that you witness something strange or socially uncommon, a man in trousers a quarter of a mile before you racing by on a unicycle, a prepubescent girl on a park bench with a voice recorder and a furious commentary on everyone that passes by. You might look around for some kind of assurance or confirmation that it is really happening. The truth is you're uncomfortable on some level with what you've witnessed and are looking for a reference for appropriate response. Some people laugh and soak it up while others remove themselves from the scene and head back to their comfort zone without much thought or concern. Of course, I don't want to suggest that there is a right or wrong way to respond to sightings of the truly bizarre, I simply want to say that I enjoy them--especially; independently. When I find myself frustrated with the monotony of my grounded life, I wish that I might stumble on the peculiar. I hope that when I least expect it something curious will present itself to me--A rabbit with a pocket watch and spectacles peering over the nearest hedge, beckoning me to the rabbit hole. These are the moments I wait for.

Song of the Day: Morning Passages by the brilliant Phillip Glass

"From this point forth, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into the wildest guesswork." APWBD

Day 32 : Edge of the Ocean-Ivy

Let no-one say that there were not early signs of warning.

Song of the Day: Edge of the Ocean by Ivy

"Those who are best suited to power are those who have never sought it." APWBD

Day 31 : Maneater-Nelly Furtado

Oh the bus don't go to hogwarts, you gots to take the train. No the bus don't go to howwarts YOU GOTS TO TAKE THE TRAIN.
Greetig muggles. I apologize for the delay in postings to those of you who read daily. I've been a busy bee this past week which has been a nice change. I have recently become hooked on a new tv show. I highly recommend 'How I Met Your Mother,' and not just because it features a saucy Canadian and a lawyer from Minnesota. Apparently the show is quite popular with the fellas which further confirms that I am an above average honorary "bro." However, I am drinking tangerine sugar-free, off brand soda from a beer mug right now so I'm pretty sure that negates whatever points I gained from liking 'How I Met Your Mother.'
Moving on. I have really exciting news. Harry and the Potters are coming to Minneapolis. This will bring my H and the P's live concert attendance tally to numero quatro. I am beyond excited. Excited is not the appropriate word to describe the emotion that a fanatic supporter of Wizard Rock experiences upon hearing that their favorite band is gracing their state after a two year hiatus. Try jubilant or ecstatic. If you are interested in accompanying me to this fine event please feel free to give me a call and sing a few of your favorites.
In other news, I just received a message from an old buddy who is experiencing the side effects of Vicodin. I decided that it deserved some media attention as it embodies a form of wisdom and truth that can only be achieved with the help of mind altering substances--which I neither condone nor approve of.
"I wrote you a poem. Caleigh is obsessed with magic. Love life is very tragic. Love life is very tragic. Reading books study hard. Don't be a f****** reatard. threes more but i fortgot it. what doyou think? You're boring. Bye Hermione. I'm sorry you're not hermione. You're like that Chinese girl ho chang but american and cute. And I guess you have a beard now. "
Thanks man. That was really something. I especially liked the emphasis on my tragic love life. Repeating that line twice was a nice touch. I'm confused as to how I earned the title of Ho Chang, which I assume you meant to be Cho Chang, Harry's asian love interest in books 4 and 5. Either way, I really enjoyed that poem and I would be remiss if I did not encourage you to pursue a career in creative writing.
Song of the Day: Maneater by Nelly Furtado

"It is a long time since my last visit. I must say, your agapanthuses are flourishing." APWBD