Wabi-Sabi

No music this Monday. I wrote this thing, and against my usual instinct that I developed, which is to keep the deepest parts of me out of the eyes of strangers whenever I can, I wanted to actually share it. I used to be so open, and now it's so hard to get me to share more than the superficial. Maybe it's just that, before, I was nothing but superficial.

Wabi-Sabi

Nothing is perfect,
Nothing is finished,
And nothing lasts.
That’s why it’s beautiful,
That burning
Tugging
Heart-hurt of remembering
Your fingers tangled in my hair,
Your lips on my shoulder,
Not breathing
For fear of breaking the way the air crackled
And living tears hovered in hundreds of eyes
As we finished the song,
“I’m not sorry I met you,
I’m not sorry it’s over,
I’m not sorry there’s nothing to save…”

The quiet completeness of moments,
Trying hard to press into my memory
The way your eyes move under their lids
While you dream in the almost-dawn.
I try to remember these things,
Just as hard as I try to forget how much I don’t want you to go.
It’s easy to wish we could stay here
Wrapped up like a cocoon
In cool, green, flowing lines.
But to never hatch,
To never fly,
To hold you here would be the height of cruelty.

And I’ll lay my scarred, shy body
Naked beneath your gaze a hundred times,
But I’d die before I let you see these words:
You only need to ask, and I would follow you
To the coldest, harshest corners of the world,
And the fact that you would never
Just lodges you deeper in my chest.
And however long before the cocoon breaks,
It will be too soon.
I hope the blue in the atmosphere you touch
Warms you, teaches you, satisfies you,
And brings you loves far greater than mine.

I hope you treat well
The chunks of me that you will keep
When we reach our separate paths.

(c) 2012 Leah Barr (except the lyrics to "Your Ex Lover is Dead" by Stars (c) 2005)

Music Monday: I'm Just Me

So, I went on Thursday night to see Stars, California Wives, and Diamond Rings at the Egyptian Room. Stars are absolutely my favorite, favorite, favorite band ever. I could listen to their discography on repeat for days. They didn't disappoint. Far from! In fact, I'd say it was more of an experience than a mere show. My friend, Tony, was there with me, and we were that funny overly-physically-affectionate couple. Even though we're totes not a thing. Stars is just the ultimate music to have on for cuddling, kissy moments. "It sounds like sentimentality and nostalgia" is the way Tony described it. And I mean. I'm still in awe. I was close enough to the stage, I could have touched Chris or Torquil. Every single musician in the band has so much intensity. And when Torquil and Amy put their microphones out and had the audience finish "Your Ex Lover is Dead" for them? I was teary-eyed. I'm not even ashamed to say it. It was one of those moments so beautiful, you're afraid to move or speak or even breathe, you so badly don't want to break the magic of it. This post is about Diamond Rings, though. The dude's a force to be reckoned with.
 

 And such a sweetheart too! His new album, Free Dimensional, comes out on October 23rd. And since Tony and I are both apparently in love with him now or something, this week's Music Monday shall be dedicated to his most recent single, "I'm Just Me."



 Thanks, all three bands, for showing Indy a fantastic time Thursday night. And thanks to My Old Kentucky Blog for having them on at the Egyptian Room.

Music Monday: Don't dream it, be it!

In honor of the Rocky Horror Picture Show this past Friday. Photos at the SMG Evansville facebook page . Everyone had a seriously wicked good time! It was nothing short of tragic that Mesker Amphitheatre was closed, because it's just not the same. But it was nice being indoors. Freezing your tail off in fishnets for several hours gets a bit taxing.

 Hot patootie, bless my soul:

I wore clothes this week. One would hope.

Since this is ostensibly a fashion blog, I should post pictures of clothing sometimes. Here's what I wore Thursday, September 27.

Purse, Target. T-shirt is from Cornerstone Festival 2005. Jacket, The Limited, thrifted. Jeans, Banana Republic, thrifted. Shoes are Rock 'n Republic from Kohl's

The brooch on the purse is the Dunbar family crest. I got it at Irish Fest in Indianapolis a couple years ago.

The shoes are these, which I'm pretty sure are a knockoff of these.

The earrings are Candie's.

Pick up your perk when you're down! (originally posted at leahsgotit.blogspot.com August 12, 2009)

Blogger note: I'm going to be re-posting some of the best posts at my old career blog here, because yeah, I've decided not to work on that project anymore, but there were plenty of good insights, so they ought to see the light of day. This oldie-but-goodie might come in useful for someone. I certainly hope it does.

Fatigued or downright depressed in your job search? It's a small comfort to know that you have plenty of company. I struggled, myself, with intense depression and anxiety last year. In recent days, I have apparently joined the ranks of the happily employed, but the fatigue associated with going from a second-shift job to first-shift has been worse than expected. I wanted to get right back in high-gear as soon as I got back to Indianapolis and started my new job Monday. My body clearly had other plans. Anyway, it should be clear that I speak from plenty of experience when it comes to fighting depression and fatigue.

Obviously, if the "blues" stay persistent, or if the depression becomes severe, you shouldn't just suffer through it like I did. There IS help to fit your income, or lack thereof. The tips below, and some St. John's Wort, were enough to get me functional most of the time at my worst. But if you need further intervention, don't hold yourself back from it. You deserve better.

Even at the worst times, I had tried-and-true ways to give myself a shot of perk. Mostly, it's just about taking a few minutes to pamper yourself. Society says this is a luxury and requires tons of money. I disagree. Here are a quick few tricks; feel more than free to add your own!

- Listen to your body's call for more sleep. Make sure you're actually tired and it's not just the depression.

- Better-sleep tips: Have some chamomile tea if you have anxiety that's making sleep difficult. Brew your own teas for pennies a cup, and scoff at people who routinely pay upwards of $3 for the stuff. You can flavor it up with a slice of lemon (or some of that cheapie RealLemon juice). Or add a shot of apple juice, at less than a buck for a can of concentrate. I take some valerian root capsules with my evening chamomile. You can find cheapie-brands at Walgreens, Target, Wal-mart, etc. Be warned, it tastes GROSS, so you're going to need that budget-gourmet tea afterward. Still can't sleep? Run by the local headshop/stoner store and pick up some Morningstar brand Japanese incense in lavender. It's aromatherapy you can practically afford with couch-change. You'll be more awake and productive in the morning.

- Trade backrubs with a friend. Or your significant other/spouse, if you have one. I still have tension and pain issues from all the stress knotting up my neck, shoulders, and back. It would surely have been worse if I hadn't volunteered as a guinea pig for a friend who wanted practice while in massage-therapy school. (But even the most untrained layperson can be helpful.) There are about a million ways to get absolutely free massages.

- LAY OFF the energy drinks. They're super expensive and will actually only make you feel worse. I say this even though I'm an energy-drink addict. But I really do feel better on days, like today, when I abstain from drinking them. Try tea. Even coffee is better, if you use moderation. If you have as fierce a habit as I'm weaning myself from, you'll probably need some ibuprofen for the caffeine-withdrawal headaches.

- If you really feel that you must have an energy drink, go sugar-free at least. But Red Bull is the only brand I've found that does sugar-free that doesn't taste awful, and it's the most expensive brand. (I'd also suggest avoiding Rockstar. Here's why.)

- Get a bicycle. Craigslist, thrift, or get one at a yard sale for $40 or less. Use it whenever you can. Biking to the store doesn't just save you lots of gas money, it feels REALLY good. Get a nice-size bike basket and wear a backpack, so you'll have room. I've also seen people use those little behind-the-bike trailers that are advertised for letting toddlers ride in. That makes more sense to me. I'd rather break an egg than a kid if I hit a bad bump. These little trailers get costly, though, even on Craigslist.

- Finally, my favorite: Jam out. Everyone can come up with at least 3 to 5 songs that ALWAYS put them in a good mood. Capitalize on this. Here are some that do the trick for me:

"Glad to Be Alive" by Cowboy Mouth (WEIRD slide show, sorry, it was the only video I could find for this song.)


"The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World (video probably NSFW--underwear)


"Robots" by Flight of the Conchords


"Hook" by Blues Traveler


"This Much Fun" by Cowboy Mouth


Go forth, rock out, feel better, and re-gain your edge.

Music Monday: We Are Pilots (blah blah depression blah)

I've pretty much just stopped trying to verbally describe the effects depression has on me to people. I mean, it's abundantly clear that if you've never been there, you're never going to understand. And if you have been there, there's no explanation needed.

Especially the "I'm making sense of shattered dreams 'cause I want you to be proud of me" line? NAILS it. So much pain in just a few little words. Just about as good as Reznor's The Wretched, "It didn't turn out the way you wanted it, did it? Now, you know, this is what it feels like."

You could say today's a rough day so far. I always get down on myself when I feel like I'm not accomplishing enough, and I don't have time to right now because I'm working 56 to 60-hour weeks right now. That's barely enough time to stuff my clothes into the hamper, or closet, or toss 'em on the floor, and get an almost-adequate amount of sleep before doing it all again the next day. My paycheck is gonna love me, if I don't drive myself into the ground first. I'm so glad I will most likely have a new script for my antidepressants after Friday, y'all. I'm tired of surviving. I'm so ready to live. 

The iPhone is gonna kill me, y'all.

In the event of unholy amounts of overtime, these do NOT suffice in lieu of a shower. No, not even the Chanel.

Okay, not really. But I *will* have done sixteen hours of overtime by the end of this week, and I’m signed up for eighteen next week. I’m gonna be tired, but my credit-card balance is going to be nearly nonexistent! And I’ll have my emergency fund built back up. It was entirely deflated when my car (henceforth known to my dear readers, as she is to me, as Artemis) had to get a new starter, battery, and… er, headlight/turn signal switch-thingy.


I really should make a note to stop reading the blogs of people who enthuse over their new Balenciaga handbags until after I’m back in the black financially. Which… if I counted student loans, would be approximately once I hit age 47. If I don’t get a mortgage, or have kids, or anything stupid like that! Yeah... so not happening. Will just have to focus on minimalism, investment pieces, wardrobe a la Parisienne (rather than a la Imelda Marcos) etc.

This week, I’m proud that even with my hectic, busy schedule, my apartment still looks pretty much exactly the same as it did last week. Also, weirdly, I’m actually looking forward to doing the laundry tomorrow. God. I’m old!

Actually, I just love my clothes. And they’re dirty. And nobody likes to hang out with the smelly kid, so I guess I gotta wash up before I can look cute. But yeah! Relatively little clutter! Winning!

CLUTTER! Kill it with fire!

Pro tip to any other clutterbugs out there, I think there’s something to that line my grandma always says, that if you just make a habit of making your bed daily, the rest comes more easily. Of course, Grandma also thinks I’m going to hell because I’m not a Church of Christ member. Your mileage may vary.I re-uploaded that atrocious video from Tuesday. When Youtube tells you it wants to fix your shaky video, don’t let it! It’s a trap! I’d rather have shaky than headache-inducingly blurry. You can look at my apartment tour vid without dying now.

So yeah. I have piles and piles of photos of my favorite runway shows from NYFW, and now London Fashion Week is on, and I hope to get that belated favorites-of-the-show post up by Sunday. I’m psyched about it, just very busy fixing first-world problems for sweet moolah.

Not only will I fix those poor schlubs' iPhones! I will look damn good doing it! (scarf is Kirna Zabete for Target. Only twenty dollah!)

What I’m REALLY psyched about is the fact that I’m psyched about anything! Fellow depressives are totally understanding that one. It feels good to feel something that doesn’t just make me want to go back to that void-place where you wish you could feel. It’s been either sad or just blah for months. Which gets you into this dangerous zone where you’ll try some pretty stupid, self-destructive shiznit just to feel alive for a few minutes. Or else you just sleep for days because well, what’s the difference? But I have an appointment to get back onto my happy pills on the 28th, I don’t have to worry about money right now, I’m going to see my FAVORITE BAND the first week in October, and my job may not be glam, and it may be hectic as hell right now, and yes, everyone’s pissed over the Facetime thing, but I am freakin’ good at this stuff. My stats are off the charts, and I’m mostly handling the stress, which is amazing since I’ve been out of Klonopin for months. *crosses fingers*

 Life ain’t bad.