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Category: everydailies

New Music Tuesday

i used to be one of those people who rushed out every tuesday to get new music. my cd collection is quite expansive and i’m a music junkie in every sense of the word. in one of the towns i formerly lived in, i shopped so much, they started to give me the employee discount. yes, it was quite the habit.

since i’ve moved the washington d.c. metro area (read: less money) my music purchases have tapered off to next to nil. in fact besides & bmg, i’ve only bought about 4 cds in the last 18 months. does this make me less of a music lover? no it just makes me someone who loves musicly dearly but whose money is better appropriated to things like, oh rent.

today i bought two new cd’s ; common’s be & shelby lynne’s suit yourself (LOVE her so much) and i have to admit that the giddyness of cracking open that oh so hard to open plastic and reading the liner notes was satisfying. i haven’t even listened to the discs yet (although i’ve had common for about a month) but i feel good about owning them and supporting artists.

what i can’t get behind are record companies who seek to insult my intelligence and my wallet by pricing cd’s beyong my admittedly poor means. music is for sharing. what’s the fun of loving an album if no one else can share in your affection? this isn’t some tyrannical essay about the spoils of music file-sharing or my attempt at legitimizing my own musical theft; but i have to wonder why, if the music industry really feels good about the products that they’re releasing, wouldn’t they want to share with consumers


the only things to eat in my house are cheese (of course), lettuce and some ben & jerry�s coffee ice cream. i need to buy groceries worse than life.  if i eat one more sandwhich from a seven-eleven or one more bag of lay�s potato chips, my body is going to have a giant upheaval and give up on me.

i�m off being the world�s greatest sister-in-law. to make the quandry of actually going to the grocery store even worse is that my sister-in-law (whom i�ve never met) is coming into town tomorrow night and will be staying at my house on saturday and sunday. this is bad because for a number of reasons:

  • i don�t like to clean, cleaning is for losers.
  • to combat me not cleaning, i have to have our cleaners come in � goodbye money.
  • after a 14 hour workday today, i have to go home tonight (and get up early in the morning) to do my pre-clean. what? i can�t have my cleaners think i�m a complete and utter slob.
  • somewhere in between there i need to shop for something sister-in-law friendly to wear (poor excuse to shop, i know) and not forget to balance my checkbook/pay the bills.
  • so, if i fall off the face of the proverbial earth

    Technicolor Life

    there are days when i feel utterly blessed. blessed to have the friends and the life i do, alternately there are days when i want to hurl myself into oncoming traffic or poke my eye out with a spork � but the good days are so good that they pale into comparison to the bad. 

    i love my friends because they


    draw me pictures with love and amusement. 

    i love my friends because they write songs about me

    C arletta, C arlotta � a work in progress

    Remember those days, back in July?

    Remember the times we laughed �til we cried?

    The whole world was ours under the bright sky

    And you looked at me with those black magic eyes

    We raucously sang of our distant homes

    And oftentimes when I felt so alone

    I only had to simply pass you on by

    And look into the black magic eyes

    Que tienes los ojos

    Negros y mágicos

    Que alegría que me traigas así

    Y si tu no sientes

    Contenta mi bella

    and i love my friends because they�re who they are. uniquely special and priceless.

    Fat? So!

    my name is letta and i�m fat. it has taken me many years to be able to say that, and there are days where i�m unsure if i�d have the esteem to utter it aloud. but mostly, i�m okay with it.

    i was watching an episode of what not to wear, one of those makeover shows that seem to be all the rage.  this particular episode�s participant was a beautiful girl. a dental hygienist by day and an anna nicole impersonator by night (pre trimspa baby! Anna).  after hearing �what a pretty face she had� and going on and on about how her clothes sucked, the style guru�s made her over. but through this process, the size 16 beauty was a ball of self-loathing. in a perpetual fight to lose weight and hating herself all the way. 

    see here�s the thing: we live in a country wherein we�re made to feel bad about everything. the size of your nose, your dick, your ears and your ass. when is enough good enough?  i�m all for being healthy but judge me not on what you see physically, because i�m more than that.  fat does not equal hatred. being fat doesn�t mean no one�s gonna love you or that you�re miserable. it just ain�t true � i promise.  my affection for ben and jerry�s has nothing to do with who i am as a person.  not one single thing.

    we live in a culture wherein we are obsessed with the idea of celebrity (myself included), but the constant media attention to appearance is maddening. and have you seen pictures of lindsay lohan lately? she�s practically fucking invisible.  think about it, who the fuck cuts out whole food groups from their diet? carbs are good for you…and they taste good too ;0)

    but this isn�t about hatred of anybody�s body; skinny or fat. this is about self-acceptance. about loving the body that you have. about embracing your double chin or your skinny calves � about loving you.  there are so many things in the world worth obsessing over, and how we look should be low on the totem pole. i can’t help but believe that if people took the time to appreciate the beauty of other people in whatever form it comes in that things would be a little better. of course we’re all guilty of judgment occasionally no matter how hard we try – but you have to at least try. people are like skittles; taste the rainbow, enjoy it, marvel at it, smile at it. there’s more to life than looks.