Author: wrekehavoc

i feel the snow, i feel the cold, i feel the air…

i feel the snow, i feel the cold, i feel the air…

Posted on by wrekehavoc

to the person (s?) out there who want to know what the hell the song “nothing” is about, the lyrics will follow. for me, it is a song that i live my life by 😉

Nothing
[DIANA]
I’m so excited because I’m gonna go
to the High School of Performing Arts!
I mean, I was dying to be a serious actress.
Anyway, it’s the first day acting class-
and we’re in the auditorium and the teacher,
Mr. Karp… Oh, Mr. Karp…
Anyway, he puts us up on the stage with
our legs around each other,
one in back of the other and he says:
“Okay… we’re going to do improvisations.
Now, you’re on a bobsled. It’s snowing out.
And it’s cold…Okay…GO!”

Ev’ry day for a week we would try to
Feel the motion, feel the motion
Down the hill.

Ev’ry day for a week we would try to
Hear the wind rush, hear the wind rush,
Feel the chill.

And I dug right down to the bottom of my soul
To see what I had inside.
Yes, I dug right down to the bottom of my soul
And I tried, I tried.

[Spoken]
And everybody’s goin’ “Whooooosh, whooooosh …
I feel the snow… I feel the cold… I feel the air.”
And Mr. Karp turns to me and he says,
“Okay, Morales. What did you feel?”

[sings]
And I said…”Nothing,
I’m feeling nothing,”
And he says “Nothing
Could get a girl transferred.”

They all felt something,
But I felt nothing
Except the feeling
That this bullshit was absurd!

[Spoken]
But I said to myself, “Hey, it’s only the first week.
Maybe it’s genetic.
They don’t have bobsleds in San Juan!”

[sings]
Second week, more advanced, and we had to
Be a table, be a sportscar…
Ice-cream cone.

Mister Karp, he would say,”Very good,
except Morales. Try, Morales,
All alone.”

And I dug right down to the bottom of my soul
To see how an ice cream felt.
Yes, I dug right down to the bottom of my soul
And I tried to melt.

The kids yelled, “Nothing!”
They called me “Nothing”
And Karp allowed it,
Which really makes me burn.

The were so helpful.
They called me “Hopeless”,
Until I really didn’t know
Where else to turn.

[Spoken]
And Karp kept saying,
“Morales, I think you should transfer to Girl’s High,
You’ll never be an actress, Never!” Jesus Christ!

Went to church, praying, “Santa Maria,
Send me guidance, send me guidance,”
On my knees.

Went to church, praying, “Santa Maria,
Help me feel it, help me feel it.
Pretty please!”

And a voice from down at the bottom of my soul
Came up to the top of my head.
And the voice from down at the bottom of my soul,
Here is what it said:

“This man is nothing!
This course is nothing!
If you want something,
Go find another class.

And when you find one
You’ll be an actress.”
And I assure you that’s what
Fin’lly came to pass.

Six months later I heard that Karp had died.
And I dug right down to the bottom of my soul…
And cried.
‘Cause I felt… nothing.

feelin' groovy

feelin' groovy

Posted on by wrekehavoc

i have probably made the weirdest mix CD to date, as i pointed out to the other day. among the wackiness co-existing on this little disc: ella fitzgerald, the cowboy junkies, sarah brightman singing a wonderful breakup song by andrew lloyd-webber, the rolling stones, nat king cole, yvonne elliman, “nothing,” one of the funniest broadway songs ever recorded, from “A chorus line,” the eagles, foreigner, arlo guthrie, woody guthrie, johnny nash, and of course, a wonderful song from the broadway show “hair.” it’s a mellow CD, to be sure.

it reminds me how much i love the Broadway musical “hair.” i HATEDHATEDHATED the film with Treat Williams. it was so strangely contrived. better to see it on stage. i did, in 3rd grade, on Broadway. i went with my parents and a whole bunch of teachers who taught with my mom at my elementary school. i think the crowning moment was the end of the first act, where every cast member strips nekkid on stage. one of the teachers, shocked because i was present, whispered to my mom that is was not so good that i was there. my mom replied that i was staring at the floor, too embarrassed to look at anyone, so no worries.

my parents were always cool that way. i mean, i used to lovelovelove singing along with the record “hair” — and one song i loved to sing was called “sodomy.” the rest of the words are even more shocking. however, i sang it at the top of my lungs regularly as a child. i asked my mom later – why did you let me run around singing words like that? she said, once again correctly, that when i was old enough, i would learn what those words meant and would probably decide then whether it was a good idea to run around singing that song. she was right 🙂

geez, i love that hippie shit. cos i’m a genius, genius. i believe in G-d. and i believe that G-d believes in claude — that’s me.

Manchester England

Manchester England England
Across the Atlantic Sea
And I’m a genius genius
I believe in God
And I believe that God
Believes in Claude
That’s me that’s me

Claude Hooper Bukowski
Finds that it’s groovy
To hide in a movie
Pretends he’s Fellini
And Antonioni
And also his countryman Roman Polanski
All rolled into one
One Claude Hooper Bukowski

Now that I’ve dropped out
Why is life dreary dreary
Answer my weary query
Timothy Leary dearie

Oh Manchester England England
Across the Atlantic Sea
And I’m a genius genius
I believe in God
And I believe that God
Believes in Claude
That’s me (that’s he)
That’s me (that’s he)
That’s me (that’s he)
That’s me

how i spent the first part of my trip to NJ

how i spent the first part of my trip to NJ

Posted on by wrekehavoc

BC said her throat hurt. she had no temp, so i took her by amtrak up to NJ on tuesday. once there, she spiked a fever and threw up on me twice.

on wednesday, we went to uncle howie's office (my brother is a doctor, and a really good one, to boot), after much trepidation and gnashing of teeth. we got BC there only by telling her we would have a surprise for her afterwards if she would cooperate. she was terrified of getting swabbed, and i think that is why she woke up tuesday night and cried and cried and cried all over me. of course, she had no recollection of throwing up all over me. “mommy,” she asked, “what happened to your pajama top? how come you're not wearing it?” calgon, take me away.

anyhow, we got her to howie's. she adores him and got all flirty. i thought, terrific, miracle cure in progress. anyway, her ears looked fine (he said he couldn't tell whether the tube was still in the wax). he asked to look in her throat. i told him in advance about how she hates getting swabbed. how she reenacts scenes from The Exorcist when they try to swab her throat at the pediatrician's. she let him look in his throat. he said it was VERY red. he needed to swab it. could he tickle her throat with a Q-tip? No, she replied, and she was pretty adamant. so he told her to put out her hand, and he showed her how it would feel when he “tickled” her throat. she opened her mouth, he did it. no tears. no whining. no nothing. it was a moment in history. linda blair was not in the building.

anyway, he came back a few minutes later and told her that the results were sooo positive, so she was either going to have a baby or had strep 😉 she is on amoxicillin now 3x day.

so basically, we hung out for three days. and as for BC, she now has a stuffed tigger. howie said to her, “you came all the way up from VA to come to the doctors!” BC thought that was the funniest. she is such a giggle girl.

for awhile, she couldn't keep tylenol down, so i had to give it to her via suppositories.

the glamourous life of a mom. suppositories and vomit.

i am sure glad she is doing a LOT better now.

t-shirt: <i>i survived BC's 4th Birthday Party!</i>

t-shirt: <i>i survived BC's 4th Birthday Party!</i>

Posted on by wrekehavoc

it snowed pretty heavily here on thursday. of course, BC's 4th Birthday checkup at the pediatrician's was scheduled for thursday, so it was cancelled. those pups require that i schedule about like 3 months in advance, so i am hoping she gets her checkup (and shots) before she hits 5.

on friday, the world resumed some normalcy. most of it, of course. BC's birthday party, complete with 10 kids, assorted parents, my parents, my brother, my aunt, and my 11-year-old niece thrown in for good measure, was to have taken place at a local community center where we attend a playgroup. the room is stocked with all sorts of great things for kids to play with, and i knew exactly what i was going to do there. on friday, though, i learned from the community center's director that they would be closed on saturday due to the snow. thus, we had to contact all party-goers to change the venue to our house. i had to clean, and fast. i also had to wonder how on earth we would fit everyone in here. then, once that was pretty much done, around noon, someone from the Parks and Rec Dept called me to tell me that the center WOULD be open on Saturday.

i contemplated killing myself at that point.

too late to move everyone back again, i reconciled myself to the fact that my house was going to be under seige. and it was. we ended up with 7 kids due to cancellations. the kids trashed my house, the parents hung out, no one wanted to play Simon Says, Hot Potato, or Freeze Dance with me, and we all ate pizza and pepto-bismol-colored Barbie cake.

in short, it seemed to be a success 🙂

if i weren't pregnant, i would be wishing that i could have one of those little drinks with a dinky umbrella in it now.

damn mad

damn mad

Posted on by wrekehavoc

ok.

who instilled the fear in my daughter that if she doesn’t wear certain things, she will look silly? that if she doesn’t dress just so, people will laugh at her? all i was trying to do was put her warmest things on her so that she could go play in the snow. she didn’t want to wear certain socks; she didn’t want to wear certain clothes. they would make her look silly, she said, and she started to cry. she said people would laugh at her. i told her that it doesn’t make a damn bit of difference what anyone says about how she looks. what is important is that she is happy with herself. and most important at the moment, it is critical that she is dressed warmly. i told her that she is beautiful, and no one can change that.

who the FUCK is making my kid neurotic about how she looks? i swear, if i find out someone is doing this, or making their own kids neurotic and then their kids are sharing that important information with my kid, i am going to go postal. she is fucking 4 years old. barely.she doesn’t need this.

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Cape Town, South Africa