Down the Rabbit Hole

Counting to Avoid A Body Count & Guilty Musical Pleasures

Blog Harbor Challenge Weekly Theme: MUSIC
Prompt - Day 17:
Moment of truth time. If someone were to put your entire music collection on random, what would be the most mortifying song to come up? In other words, of all the songs you own, which one is the most embarrassing to admit to? C'mon... fess up! *Smirk*

I am immensely proud of my vast and varied musical tastes. My playlist is an epic journey through many different genres and a celebration of everything from smooth jazz to classical piano, to acoustic singer-song writer gems and crushing rock anthems. I pride myself on having an open appreciation of musical talent even if my playlists seem to be generated by someone suffering from acute identity disorder. I connect with certain things about artists/songs and they stick with me. For example, I love Joss Stone. Her voice is soulful and sultry, a bit raspy but wholly unique in the way she oozes through any song, barefoot and breezy on the stage. I appreciate the verbal command of Macklemore, the poetry of "Neon Cathedral" is simply amazing, especially paired with Allen Stone's soulful chorus. Jack White's, "Lazaretto" is just profoundly good, driving rock that shakes you out. For the most part, songs that make my playlist ultimately do it because there is something about them that sets them apart...sometime its talent of the artists, the lyrics, the musical composition or arrangement.

However...there is that rare time when I like something for a reason even I can't explain or justify, my "guilty pleasure", my "something doesn't belong with the others" song. For me, that would be pretty much any song from Hole's 1998 album, Celebrity Skin. I simply do not know why I like that album so much, only that I do. Much to the chagrin of my college roommates, I played it a lot in college. A lot. Courtney Love leaves much, much to be desired as a lead vocalist and the arrangements of many of the songs sound rushed, as if they threw them together to save on studio costs. Yet...in it's messy, ugly chaos, there is something that I just enjoy. One of my particular favorites from the album is "Doll Parts", and its an languid sort-of ballad in which Love almost sounds like she's trying too hard to be the ethereal Mazzy Star. The hard driving song "Violet" gives way to Love's screaming through the high notes with an ugly brilliance that I sometimes leave on repeat to get me through a particularly tough day at the office. So, there you have it...the worst album I am be a bit embarrassed to admit I love. In case you need a dose of Ms. Love in all her messy glory...(you're welcome??)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cH_rfGBwamc


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DAY 1582- Prompt: April 17, 2018
Prompt: What makes us emotionally dependent on people or anything else? And do you think a person might have emotional dependencies with or without being conscious of them?

I would like to think that as human beings we all have the capacity to be emotionally dependent on someone. If not, how else would we experience love and loss so acutely? I think in any life journey we develop those dependencies, some of which we may not even be conscious of, and it makes our lives richer, more full. Of course, there is the risk of being co-dependent which is why maintaining our own outlook and presence is so important. We can not love someone so much that we begin to live only for them. We always need to remember to take care of our own needs, even in the midst of a committed relationship. Even the most dedicated and devoted mother understands she's raising a child that will eventually leave her, and move into their own life. We are raising our children to be adept at leaving us, and building an independent and successful existence for themselves.


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DAY 1979: April 17, 2018
Prompt: What are your calming rituals?

My job can be demanding. There are days when the stress level drives me to the edge of sanity. I employ several calming methods to avoid pitching my computer out of my office window or throwing hot coffee on my man-baby coworkers. On the days when I want to calm myself and simultaneously scare any interlopers from my office doorway, I'll play my "angry tunes" on Spotify. Nothing says, "leave me alone" right now like blasting Saliva or The Pretty Reckless at almost unacceptable volume.

Also, nothing saves me from going to prison like sipping a cup of steamy, frothy latte in the abandoned coffee room. Sometimes that silly latte machine is all the stands between me and cursing tirades worthy of a straight jacket.

When my coffee and my tunes are not readily available, and a glass of wine and bubble bath are not in the cards, then I count. I count over and over again from 10 down to 1, each time taking one or two seconds more between each number. I might do this ten or 20 times before I find I'm breathing slower, that I feel calmer and more centered.