Saturday, November 20, 2010

The Blog that Comes 9th in Sequence

It was another absurdly cold morning.  I am now questioning why I choose to exercise outdoors in the mornings.  In the summer it makes perfect sense - it's the only time of day that isn't burning hot.  This time of year, not so much.  I think it's just something I like to do first thing.  Well, coffee first thing, then exercise. 
This morning was foggy, which happens maybe once or twice a year in Colorado.  It's cool and mysterious and I was anxious to get out on my bike and ride "in the clouds".  Convinced the same ensemble that kept me reasonably warm on Tuesday would keep me warm today, I headed out towards the Reservoir with high hopes and good intentions.  But it was so so cold!  The humidity from the fog seeped through all my layers (fleecy vest, warmer hat, and glove liners included) and didn't stop until it hit my bones.  There it proceeded to freeze me slowly from the inside out.
Since I can't say I enjoyed many parts of this ride and it was cut short due to fear of frostbite, I'll briefly summarize and then move on to something I found entertaining.  The fog was neat.  It misted in and out of the trees.  My stronger legs, more gears, and lighter bike made the uphill to the Reservoir less horrible (not a fan of hills.  Maybe that gene skipped me.).  I rode a little path to the swim beach.  Bikes don't like to ride on sand.  Turned around, went further down the trail, not knowing at all where I was headed.  Kept hearing gunshots from what sounded like all around me.  There is a shooting range somewhere near the reservoir, but I don't know where it is.  Stopped to eat.  All blood once circulating through my body went to my belly to digest the measly little bar I put in it.  No more blood in hands.  Only pain.  Pain and suffering.  Turned around and pedaled home in misery and defeat (weenie 21 miles today). 
Remembered something kind of funny from when I was in like, 1st grade.  I remembered hearing the song "Send me an Angel" by Real Life and thinking how the lyrics just spoke to me.  Like when I was 7 years old I could understand what it meant to be so desperately looking for love you don't know what to do.  "Don't tell a lie, don't be false or untrue, it all comes back to you" sunk in to my little girl's heart - I had lied to my best friend about something (I don't even remember what now) and was feeling regretful because I was caught.  "Open fire, on my burning heart, I've never been lucky in love" was like they knew my pain - my crush liked another girl better.  Oh Real Life, you understand!  Send me an Angel, come rescue me in my tragic suffering.
Then later when I started a new Hebrew school and fell in love with the teacher there, I was sure that Mister Mister knew exactly the words I needed to say to this guy for him to fall for me too.  "Take these broken wings and learn to fly again (my wings were broken from the aforementioned crush not liking me back), learn to live so free.  When we hear the voices sing, the book of love will open up and let us in".  What guy wouldn't understand that sound logic?  It made perfect sense.
In high school when Nirvana was so huge and I was dating a bass player (this was the second bass player I dated - I married the third), I attached to "Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be" because this meant he loved the person I was, the person I used to be, and the person I was becoming.  High school is all about change and finding yourself, right?  I didn't need to be embarrassed that I used to be a big nerd (I use the term "used to be" loosely here).  I was cool now.  I would soon be even cooler.  I mean, I liked Nirvana so I was awesome.
College found Tori Amos.  "Boys on my left side, boys on my right side, boys in the middle and you're not here" - had plenty of guys interested in me (I was pretty awesome) but not the one I wanted.  Then when I had him and he left me out of jealousy, "Building tumbling down, didn't know our love was so small, couldn't stand it out".
Anyway, I found it amusing that I have been finding (if not forcing) meaning into songs my whole life.  It's just one way I can channel my emotions when they seem overwhelming to me.  I am full of love, I am overflowing with girliness, I don't know what to do with my abundant passions, and when someone like Berlin can reach into my soul and pull out lyrics, who am I to argue?  I just accept it.  It's always been that way.


  1. It must be cold everywhere today. Cold, windy, and rainy here. No music but the sound of the wind while I rode. ...funny, the Tori A. lyrics remind me of an earlier song, "Clowns to the left of me, clowns to the right of me, stuck here in the middle with you!"

  2. i also mark my life in lyrics. i don't think there's been an event/emotion/age that doesn't have a song associated with it. i'm grateful that someone, somewhere could put words to my experiences!
    oh, and by the way, that awesomeness didn't quit after college.

  3. Ha, Badger that song reminds me of Israel! It was on a mix tape I had made and we listened to it on the tour bus. Seth Linden made the joke "stuck in the middle with Jews" which was funny because hey, we were all Jewish.
    SOMH - thanks. I think my awesomeness now is in part due to my embracing my inner nerd and thus my self-deprecating humor. And I've been told I'm both witty and charming. :-)

  4. I got the words wrong, I think it goes, clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right...

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