Anything But Down

You ever hear a song that just personifies your relationship with somebody so much you just want to show up at the artist’s door and demand royalties from that song, so obviously taken from a page in your journal?

Or thrown a shoe at your stereo because the song that started playing reminded you of your dead grandmother at the very moment you were staring at her photo in the quiet solitude of your new and improved, clutter free bedroom, missing her desperately and crying your eyes out on a Sunday when, had she been alive, you’d be eating stew at her house?

No? Just me, then?

It just occurred to me how every moment of my life is connected to a song…and vice versa…perhaps it’s why I love the movie High Fidelity so much (besides of course that JC is in it)…music is, like, EVERYTHING to me. And no matter how old I get, whenever I hear The Four Tops’ “Rock Steady” the faint smell of ginger tea will waft near me and I’ll be instantly transported to 68 Patchen Avenue that summer I got back from Camp Sebago and had decided to give up dancing for good.

Whenever I hear “Rhinestone Cowboy,” I’ll remember how Celia and I, in the middle of a card game in our freshman dorm room, laughed hysterically at the fact that she knew the lyrics to EVERY FUCKING SONG ON THE PLANET…even “Rhinestone Cowboy”

If Prince’s “Adore” comes on, I’ll remember that my ex and I had chosen that as the song for our first dance to a wedding that never happened…and how I really fucked up that relationship- I really should’ve never stayed with him and I knew it…what the fuck was I thinking?

Heat’s “Always and Forever” brings me back to St. John the Baptist JHS…7th grade…me working concessions at the 8th grade prom and crushing on Ebel Something-or-other; some random 8th grader that made me swoon…

“Jump Around” by House of Pain takes me to the basement of the Kappi Psi house, freshman year; drunk and out of control in a skirt and combat boots…the jumping around threatening to release the twins at any moment…

Ms. DiFranco’s “Origami” is credited with being the song that finally put the nail in the coffin to my marriage…the lyrics- I know men are delicate, origami creatures/who need women to unfold them/hold them when they cry/but I am tired of being your savior/and I am tired of telling you why- sort of slapped me in the face and said, “Hey! Give it up! This is not working! He’s much more trouble than he’s worth!!”

There are a slew that will always remind me of all 11 of my significant others, the kind of love and anti-love songs that you play over and over again right after a break up. Some to curse them out (so fuck you/and your untouchable face/and fuck you/for existing in the first place), some to beg them to come back (tengo rezones/para no quererte olvidar/porque el trocito de felicidad/fuiste tu quien me lo dio a probar), some to help you get the tears out (it was the sweetness of your skin/it was the hope of all we might have been/that filled me with the hope to wish/impossible things), and some that just, FINALLY, help you move on (So maybe I'll be here/Maybe I'll see you around/That's the way it goes/Almost doesn't count).

And then there’s the song whose lyrics remind you of you, that “other” you that not even your closest friends and family members have seen…the you that sometimes curls up into a corner of her apartment for no reason and just hides from the world…the you that, “never really laughs” when you laugh, but “always really cries” when you cry…the you that just can’t be happy no matter what, and that is afraid of death like no one else in this world but sometimes thinks the rest is just what she needs. That you that is the total opposite of how everybody remembers you, the one that’s a downer, self-deprecating and self-destructive:

I light your cigarettes
I bring you apples from the vine
How quickly you forget
I run the bath and pour the wine
I bring you everything that floats into your mind

But you don't bring me anything but down
You don't bring me anything but down
You don't bring me anything but down
When you come 'round

You are a raging sea
I pull myself out everyday
I plea insanity
Cause I can't leave but I can't stay
You say, won't you come find me and yes is what I say

You don't bring me anything but down
You don't bring me anything but down
Everything is crashing to the ground

Maybe I'm not your perfect kind
Maybe I'm not what you had in mind
Maybe we're just killing time

You with your silky words
And your eyes of green and blue
You with your steel beliefs
That don't match anything you do
It was so much easier before you became you

You don't bring me anything but down
You don't bring me anything but down
Everything just crashes to the ground
When you come around
When you come around

No more playing seek and hide
No more long and wasted nights
Can't you make it easy on yourself

I know you wish you were strong
You wish you were never wrong
Well, I got some wishes of my own

Damn you, Sheryl, and your fucking words of wisdom. I'll be expecting that royalty check from you by the end of this month...

*smooches...one Cure song away from total depression*
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if we let our love
off of its leash
do you fear, like i fear
how fierce it would be?

Return to MySpace Mountain...and Other Musings

Here's what's doin' with me these days...

I'm Back, Baby!
After much consideration (and prodding from Mari) I decided to return to MySpace. Only this time I'll be smarter about it. I won't add you unless I know you or speak to you on the regular or really, truly enjoy your music, art or writing. If that's not you- don't bother asking. If you bombard my bulletin board with crap, I'll delete you. If you send me stupid comments on the regular- you're out. Let's be grown-ups about this, 'kay?

I'm leaving it public for about a month before I lock it down and go private, so go peek at it while you have the chance :P www.myspace.com/mspenzo

Really? You're Just Gonna Rest Your Bag on My Shoulder All the Way to 14th Street?
The subway gets more and more frustrating the more I have to ride it during rush hour. I mean it takes everything in me not to get ethnic on some of these people! ¡Es que esta gente ya me tienen loca!

FICA and NY State and Insurance, Oh My!
Can you believe how easily and legally one's paycheck can be hijacked by the federal and local government? Not to mention the medical, dental, transit and dependent care deductions I got tricked into signing up for...tax breaks my ASS!! My check was, like, $2.00 this pay period. I'm officially STANK about it. Isn't it enough that Uncle Sam is hounding me for his 75G's?? I say we call it even...

I Want It NOW NOW NOW!!!
If I don't care about my retirement, it's my business, TIAA-CREF! Why do I need your and David Koresh's permission to withdraw my funds? THEY ARE MY FUNDS!!! GIVE IT BACK!!! UGH! Do you know how many morning meetings I had to sit through? How many "conversations" Koresh and I had? How many times a student knocked on my door when I didn't want to be bothered? And don't even get me started on the girl who lived on my floor who used to eat her boogers and earwax...or the one who shit her pants on the trip...I EARNED THAT FUCKING MONEY!!! NOW GIVE IT!!!!!

23 Days and Counting...
Have I made any progress on my paper? Some. Do I feel confident that my work will be completed by the end of February as scheduled? No. Do I give three fucks? I want to say no, but then I remember...

Oh So Close...
One of my loyal readers, with my best interest at heart (and perhaps a weak spot for Jaded NYers) has laid down the gauntlet on my thesis procrastination with the most tempting offer: finish your paper and I will introduce you to my good friend Slash. SLASH! As in guitar god from GNR and Velvet Revolver. As in love of my life, second only to John Cusack. As in the guy who's tattoo is forever branded to my right leg, that left me limping in pain for a week. SLASH! I had a tiny heart attack when he said it; I may have a real one when the meeting actually occurs...


Beauty at 30,000 Feet
I've been really angry and moody lately, but only sporadically. Very bi-polar of me. One minute I'm up, the next I'm sharpening knives and plotting. I've taken to reading this entry I wrote in my journal on my way to LA last month. For some reason it helps to calm me (and the voices...the FUCKING BITCH-ASS VOICES!); I'll share:
Mountains, city grid, cotton clouds and smog-powered orange skies...I had to stop and smell the roses...I was escaping into my head again...letting the voices take over...

*smooches...while quietly plotting against FICA*
--------------
life is a b-movie
it's stupid and it's strange
it's a directionless story
and the dialogue is lame
but in the he said she said
sometimes there's some poetry
if you turn your back long enough
and let it happen naturally

Officer, I Tried to Warn Them...

I’m here to warn you for the last fucking time- when I’m riding the crimson wave, especially now that I'm no longer taking Aleve, just stay out of my fucking way…

You, trying to push your way into the already crowded subway car. What do you think- I’m standing in front of the door just to greet you at the station? What the fuck do you want me to do? Sit on somebody’s lap? There’s nowhere for me to move. Wait for the next fucking train!!!

And you, taking up the sidewalk at a snail’s pace with your 50 kids and 100 dogs. Move out of the fucking way! You don’t own the block. Real people with real lives and actual jobs are trying to get to work, lard ass! And while I’m at it, let me introduce you to a little something I like to call BIRTH CONTROL…

Oh and you, missy, with the handbag, briefcase, lunchbox, gym bag, scuffed, Manolo knock-off’s in a Victoria’s Secret shopping bag, bulky coat, coffee and big-ass New York Times…must you sit next to me with all your fucking luggage? Must I smell your mocha, half-caf grossness every fucking morning?? Must I smell whatever piss-water you bought at Perfumania last week as I try to keep the chunks from rising in my throat? And can you PUH-LEESE learn to fold the paper properly so you’re not shoving the Metropolitan Diary up my nose?

And let’s not forget you- Mr. One-Night-Stand who can’t take NO for an answer. What part of “I’m not interested anymore” do you not understand? Why should I care that you’re having an affair with a married woman? Or that you have to run an errand for your mom on Long Island? AND HOW FUCKING DARE YOU CALL ME AT 4AM FOR A BOOTY-CALL??? WHAT THE FUCK???

If you all don’t just leave me the hell alone to be and breathe and find my goddamned inner peace in PEACE, I swear on all that is holy and un-holy on this god-forsaken island: I MIGHT JUST HAVE TO STAB YOU.

*smooches…with a shank hidden in my shoe*
--------------

some people wear their smile

like a disguise

those people who smile a lot

watch the eyes

i know it 'cuz i'm like that a lot

you think everything's o.k.

and it is

'til it's not

The Jaded NYer Goes West

Miss me? Wondering where I've been? Crying into your cereal over the lack of "updates" in your inbox?

Cry no more! I'm back and have I got a tale for you...

The Jaded NYer made her 2nd annual trip to LA for the birthday of a very close friend, L. Most of you will recall that on last year's visit, I made a "new" friend...the naked kind...

Well this year I decided to just hang out with L- it was her weekend, her birthday, and how shady would it look to hook up with someone every time I go visit her!

My flight over there was uneventful: I had a layover in Chi-town and was offered free CDs and DVDs by the proprietor of a record shop in the airport because, as he put it, I was "the most beautiful woman" he'd seen all week. Whateva, man. I promptly left the store and bought a burrito.

In LA, L and I proceeded to Empanada Place and gobbled down 2 empanada's each. Afterwards we drove to the "hood" and ate some Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits...and had to scarf our food down when a homeless man came in and started acting a fool. I was scared for my life!

We finally get to her beautiful Beverly Hills apartment and look for something to do that night. We check online and find this cool looking bar/lounge, Carbon. No cover and a DJ spinning some hip-hop and R&B. When we show up, the spot is this shady-ass looking place where we had to literally HUNT for the door to get in, and when we get in...the place is literally the size of my living room. And if you've never been to my house, let me tell you- it's SMALL!! We just had to laugh and the sheer ridiculousness of that place! And the bartender had the greasiest, nastiest looking surfer hair...and h kept shaking it out...I think something from his hair fell into my watered down scotch and soda but I'm not sure...

Needless to say we booked it out of there and went to Pancho's, a Mexican place L likes out on Manhattan Beach. It was hella fun! There was a life band, margaritas, chips and guac, and drunk white girls struggling to keep the beat on the dance floor. High comedy! The highlight of the night had to be the bassist of the band- a cross between Al Sharpton and Barry White- who made up a lot of his own lyrics, ate chips while playing his bass and stopped in the middle of a song to point and laugh at the drunk, white girls struggling to keep the beat on the dance floor.

L was twisted by the end of the night and we made it home by the grace of god! but not before we made asses of ourselves in Walgreen's...

Saturday morning we went to her job- some diversity fair they were having- and then I got my hair done in Inglewood (again- the hood). The gossip was too funny, and the hair weaves were flowin'. We ate some Wendy's and then went shopping for the cocktail party I was hosting for L's birthday. We picked up some stuff to make margaritas and some snacks and then booked it home to get dressed. After all that out-of-control eating I looked like a stuffed sausage in my dress, and L was not far behind. For the dinner out, we changed into jeans. About 14 of us went to El Torito for MORE margaritas and Mexican food (if you go, get the chicken taquitos and the medium guac- AWESOME!).

Then it was back to her apartment to change into our sausage casings and head out to the Rumba Room at Universal City to shake what our mommas gave us (some more than others...). We saw some up-and-coming actor (forgot his name already...I blame the margaritas!) hounded by a photog, and I think he got us in the shot. Look for us on Page 6!!

While packing for the trip I had made the mistake of thinking that I could pull off a pair of 4" shoes half a size too small...TO GO DANCING. My toes were ON FIRE, as if someone had LITERALLY taken some matches and lit my feet up. The pain eventually shot up my leg- it was serious. I thought I was going to have to get my legs amputated! And no amount of guys hitting on me could get my mind off the fact that with every passing minute I was losing another toe.

Let's just say thank god that LA clubs close at 2AM!!

Sunday was a chill day- we walked around and had brunch at The Grove, saw a HORRIBLE movie at the Century City mall (Children of Men- DO NOT go see it...) and then ate dinner at this great Cuban restaurant, Versailles.

My toes were still aflame.

It was, all in all, enough fun to last me until my birthday...IN VEGAS!!!

...stay tuned!

*smooches...with my toes STILL AFLAME*

-------------

'cuz i'm a pixie

i'm a paper doll

i'm a cartoon

i'm a chipper cheerful free for all

and i light up a room

i'm the color me happy girl

miss live and let live

and when they're out for blood

i always give

Why Is Uncle Sam Playin' Me?

I got the most disturbing email from the government disguised as FAFSA (free application for federal student aid).

I've been filling this little form out since '93 in order to finance my BA from Alfred University. And then again for this MFA from Fairleigh Dickinson.

It never occurred to me that there was a limit. But apparently... I've reached it.

The email was to notify me that I have exceeded the allowed loans.

It also notified me that I have borrowed some $75,000 from the government to pay for school.

I suppose this solves the whole, "What's my next degree?" dilemma...

So... now I'm focussing on which countries do not have extradition treaties with the US... right now my choices include: The People's Republic of China, Brazil, Namibia and North Korea.

Who's up for a trip to Rio??

*smooches...with so much debt you just have to laugh*
-------------------

welcome to

taking the good stuff down off of the shelf

and welcome to

the art of conversation with yourself

welcome to

humming an unbroken tune

all day long