Fav Lyrics Fri-- BlitzenTrapper - Furr

Hey people, and welcome to another Fav Lyrics Friday. I’m trying to think of another name for Fridays that aren’t exclusively lyrics-centric because sometimes I want to just feature cool music. So the floor is open for suggestions. “Get your freak on Fridays?”
Maybe just “Fav Music Fridays.”

Anyway, here we have awesome Blitzen Trapper again. I’ve had this very song on a while back, but it is still a super cool song, and now they’ve made this delightfully homey video to go with it. I LOVE this lo-fi type stuff because it fires up my creative brain. This is a very approachable medium/technique I can imagine employing myself sometime. Could be a great way to make a book trailer, no?

Kick back, enjoy, and fantasize about running off to live with the wolves-- until your true love stumbles along anyway. Here are the lyrics:

Furr
By Blitzen Trapper

Yeah, when I was only 17,
I could hear the angels whispering
So I droned into the words and
wondered aimlessly about till
I heard my mother shouting through the fog
It turned out to be the howling of a dog
or a wolf to be exact.
The sound sent shivers down my back
but I was drawn into the pack.
And before long, they allowed me
to join in and sing their song.
So from the cliffs and highest hill, yeah
we would gladly get our fill,
howling endlessly and shrilly at the dawn.
And I lost the taste for judging right from wrong.
For my flesh had turned to fur, yeah
And my thoughts, they surely were turned to
instinct and obedience to God.

You can wear your fur
like the river on fire.
But you better be sure
if you're makin' God a liar.
I'm a rattlesnake, babe,
I'm like fuel on fire.
So if you're gonna' get made,
don't be afraid of what you've learned.

On the day that I turned 23,
I was curled up underneath a dogwood tree.
When suddenly a girl
with skin the color of a pearl,
wandered aimlessly,
but she didn't seem to see.
She was listenin' for the angels just like me.
So I stood and looked about.
I brushed the leaves off of my snout.
And then I heard my mother shouting through the trees.
You should have seen that girl go shaky at the knees.
So I took her by the arm
we settled down upon a farm.
And raised our children up as
gently as you please.

And now my fur has turned to skin.
And I've been quickly ushered in
to a world that I confess I do not know.
But I still dream of running careless through the snow.
An' through the howlin' winds that blow,
across the ancient distant flow,
it fill our bodies up like water till we know.

You can wear your fur
like the river on fire.
But you better be sure
if you're makin' God a liar.
I'm a rattlesnake, babe,
I'm like fuel on fire.
So if you're gonna' get made,
don't be afraid of what you've learned.

Skip Day- BooOO0Ooowp! Boo0O0Ooowp!

SHH! You'll totally get us busted man-- chill!

Today is a skip day! Trusty Pam is ditching work (Ok, they don't actually care-- it's slow, but go with it) and I have SO much work to do-- but screw it. Skip - Skip - Skip - Skip!

We're going to (insert echo-y announcer voice) The MALL Of AmERicAH! It's like fifteen below zero today, and the mall is 50 miles from my house, but the mall has Auntie Annie's pretzels darn it, and we've been fantasizing about getting some for nearly a year. So we're going to go to the mall and get cinnamon pretzel sticks and walk around.

We'll shut down all the kiosk lotion rubbers who say, "Excuse me, can I ask you a question?" -- extending their lotion pumps at us. "NO," we'll snap, dismissing them with out mighty palms of "No." Negatory, mornin' glory.

We'll wear tons of black eyeliner and sneer at the mall cops-- "Back off fuzz," and lounge broodily on planters and benches slurping on enormous soft drinks, and chain smoke. This is all assuming we find a time machine somewhere. Otherwise we'll probably just get the pretzels, have lunch, walk around the mall a few times, and head home.

But we won't be working.

I know, try not to hate us too much. We're doing this for you, general public. If you are a criminal and plan on going to the mall today-- consider yourself warned. (Need I remind you of the hands of fury? The power pants? Pam's terrifying super strength?) Also, if you are a giant rule follower who's never skipped before, you're welcome for the vicarious thrill. (Also, if you ARE a giant rule follower, you should really work on that.) Think of us as your personal bad-ass role models. Yeah, the mall, pretzels... what could be more edge?

Weird Wed-- It's Now A Cult

GOLD PANTS YO! Catch the feevah!

Today I presented Trusty Pam with her very own pair of power pants. This is so perfect since just a couple of weeks ago we were discussing how we should totally sign up for karate classes and get black-belts to further our super hero crime fightin' careers. These pants alone could apprehend a perp. This is our "Charlie's angels" pose. Sweet huh?

Here something went awry. Pam was supposed to be pretending to kick my butt, but at the last second started to fall over. I'm still in "Oh lord-- she's kicking my ass mode", but it looks kind of like I'm having my own private revival meeting that has frightened Pam into fleeing the scene.

Here I'm supposed to be kicking Pam. She looks terrified huh? Yeah, good acting there Pam. I guess if silent, still frame movies (but they'd probably be called something else-- stillies maybe?) ever become all the rage, we know which of the two of us will be whisked away to Hollywood-- ME that's who.

Now the time consuming task of retrofitting all our other pants with Velcro so they can be easily torn off if a crime wave busts out in our vicinity. Whew! I hope you all appreciate this-- general public.

Take-Back Tuesday

Yesterday I broke-up with my Christmas tree, dismembered it, and hid it in the attic. Man, break-ups are a bitch!

I also did mega loads of laundry, and dismantled the cat obstacle course on my kitchen counter. On t.v. right now some lady is showing how to clean a coffee mug with salt and a lemon, among other handy household tips. Clearly we are from different planets.

Someone's mom I know (ok me) irons sheets. All my friends mom's are completely psycho about cleaning. It's as if they are anticipating their homes one day being crime scenes and they are trying to make things as easy as possible for the crime lab people. "Amazingly, this scene contains no trace elements of anything at all not pertaining to the case."

I often suspect this is a result of religiosity run amok. Who hasn't heard the old cleanliness/ Godliness shpeel? I sometimes think they picture Jesus standing around with his hands on his hips in his very own pair of yellow rubber gloves inspecting their work approvingly going, "Hey, nice shine on that faucet! You are SO getting in."

Luckily for me, I happen to know Jesus is totally down with my casual view of cleaning. Really. He just fist bumped me yesterday when I was all, "This cleaning entirely BLOWS." Then we rolled a fatty and sat around laughing about duck billed platypus's and stuff. Ok, not really. (But he would totally fist bump all that.)

Today though, today -- I get to do stuff I want to do. So I'm going to work on some revisions for Crimson Cord (book 1), and go out in the 25 below zero cold (you heard right people-- eyeball freezingly cold today) and go out to my new ultra spiffy shop (pics soon to come) and finish putting all my tools and stuff away and organizing.

Later, trusty Pam is coming over and we're going to play on my new Wii fit. This is really fun. Sis got it for me and Dan for our birthdays-- which aren't until June, but we all wanted to play on it now. I was skeptical and used to call it Wii fat-- but it is pretty cool. The best part is it's almost Trusty Pam's birthday and I already have her gift. She will be so psyched to receive her very own pair of gold pants!

I am so hoping to post pics of this later-- if she doesn't chase me down and destroy my camera.

There is no way I can catch up so I'm just starting here.

I wanted to do a big retrospective New Years post talking about goals for the year etc. I wanted to do a post about the blog awards and all the super cool blogs I'm now addicted to. I wanted to do a funny post about the kids visit complete with pics. But I can't. Too much time has gone by and I'm just too wiped-out and OVER the last few weeks, and ready to move on.

Here are the highlights:

-Heads-up everyone! It's 2009! (Yeah, but by week 3 everyone is pretty much done examining their lives and just getting on with them.)

-I look at tons of cool blogs every day. Most of them are listed on my blogroll (bottom right of actual blog). There are hilarious ones (fuck you penguin, fail blog, bloggess, cake wrecks) odd ones (beard revue, failed bands of oklahoma, cake wrecks) one that's just cute (cute overload), and lots by other writers, artists & agents -- one of whom recently hit the road by herself for a two month solo seat of her pants road trip (jamie's giant shop hop). If you are going to waste time on the internet anyway, (and who are you kidding? You KNOW you are.) you may as well waste it wisely. Check them out!

-Kid trip high points--
Megan- "*&%$@#!"
Sis- "That's not how little princesses talk! You know better than that!"
Jaden- "Yeah, that's how mommies talk."
Me and the girl had a few good talks. I taught her "crap-o-la", and lectured her about talking like a snotty teenager already. (She's only seven. Save some tude for when you'll need it kid.) Me and the boy -- still not a fan of all his spoiled brattiness. He is only 4. He'll either grow out of it or become a giant, spoiled, man baby. Jury still out. Me and sis-- as seen in the power pants episode, hilarity ensued.

In other Sue news-- well, there really isn't any because I've had a giant cold (thanks toddler boogers) and been totally sucked down the family hole lately to the point where I haven't really been connected to my own life since before Christmas. I love them and all, and love seeing them, but my folks have been having some health stuff and there's just been a lot going on.

For some reason when I'm around them I just become whoever I am in relation to all of them-- a daughter, a sister, an aunt, etc, and that is so far from how I self-identify I start to feel like I'm disappearing (especially when things prevent me from running etc and I'm without any release valve). I know-- touchy, pain-in-the-ass, creative type whining-- but there it is.

Today will be spent doing the waist-high pile of laundry in my room, grocery shopping, and otherwise reestablishing "normal" around here. There needs to also be massive jamming out. It's been WAY too long since anything has been shaken, despite the gold pants episode. Tomorrow I get back in the writing & art saddle and I CAN'T WAIT!

Weird Wed-- Power Pants Edition

Look at Mah Seestah people. She can't stop looking at the Power Pants-- or maybe my awesome hands of fury dance. It's hard to say.

These were on sale at Target for six bucks. I dared her to buy them, joking of course. When she whipped them out in the dressing room and modeled them for me we both came dangerously close to peeing our pants-- well, she was in the gold numbers-- right in the middle of Target. We had to have them. Be warned if you want a pair of your own. They may have already been pee'd in a tiny bit by someone who didn't follow through and purchase them.


I defy you to look away people. You can't can you? No. You can not.
Neither could we. See me not being able to tear my eyes from the awesome Gold Pants Of Pwnation?

This looks like I'm stepping into a major backhand, but really we're just exhibiting our ninja like fightin' moves. Good hands of fury sis!

I go for full on aggro mode. Kate's strategy appears to be to fool her opponent with a friendly, goofy grin before she clobbers them.

Yeah. Don't mess with us. The Power Pants increase our might ten-fold.

My fearless protege Megan had to leap into the fray and show off her dismount pose.

Oh-- But they're not just for crime fightin'. Oh no. The Power Pants are also dance pants. Here we have the lawn sprinkler.

You don't stand a chance in these dance pants. Give it up yo!

In other Sue news: If you didn't check out the comments thread from the last post, the agent known for the last six months or so as AgentCoolAssChicka has finally gotten back to me. It was a rejection-- BUT-- I can't really post all about how she broke up with me and was all, "it's not you it's me-- well, actually it IS you..." because, well, it might not be over. She actually gave me some really helpful suggestions that she felt would make my story more saleable. She did say she liked my writing, and my voice, and my main character "very much". She said if I felt like doing any of the revisions she suggested she'd like to see it again. So, yes, I'm back to revising. It feels like something may be starting to happen here. Stay tuned.

Taking Stock

A few nights ago I had this dream where I landed an agent, who immediately found a publisher interested in my work.

Overnight, it seemed, I went from doing my thing privately to having deadlines and people reviewing my novels. It felt strange because the only thing that had changed was that now people were aware of me-- but it changed everything. Then it devolved into this high speed chase with me driving this insane criminal woman around who was trying to push me out of the moving truck. I had to steer while hanging onto the seat belt with my free hand and fight her off. Whichever of us admitted we had to go to the bathroom first would "lose". (?)

Last year that was one of my goals-- get an agent, get published-- not the truck-chase smackdown bladder battle. Now that year has come and gone and I still don't have an agent, but I can't call it a total fail. I still believe my author life exists in my future, bound to me by invisible strings I either reel in or play out by my actions-- but it's there. It's a thing.

I'm actually working on my third novel. The first has been shelved. It's a cool concept I may return to someday, but it was my first attempt. I learned a lot, but my work wasn't ready for prime time. My second is the one I'm querying later this month, the one I have a partial and a full out on. (writer speak for "two different agents are looking at")

Last March I stayed up late one night editing some final touches. ("final"-- HA!) I was working and saving the whole thing on Mac's online server, thinking that was the safest bet. When I opened my file the next morning it was empty. The server had eaten my whole novel, and I had no back-up anywhere else.

I spent the whole day in near hysterics-- on the phone with mac people, at the mac store, online with the server people who work in an underground bunker somewhere without phone service (so they say). In the end all I could do was scrawl a bunch of crappy notes, trying to remember the story progression as best I could, patch together a rough chapter list, and hope they could get it back. They said they'd get back to me but it may take up to six weeks, and they couldn't promise they could restore any of my files.

They next day I began writing #3, the one I'm still finishing today. That's when I think I really became a writer. I'd maybe lost over a year's work, and my response was to begin my next project, because writers write. Since then I did get my novel back, and it's been revised even more. In fact even now I'm making little changes here and there. I've learned so much in the last year-- "back-the-eff-up-fool!" being just one. I think I'm a better writer, and I know nothing will deter me from continuing to try.

I didn't land an agent in 08, but maybe I reeled in enough line that it will happen in 09. Maybe 08 was a laying track year. My big goal for 09 is still to get an agent and get published, to embark on that life, and also to help my creativity flourish in any way it needs to, to give it room, and follow it and trust it. I think this will be a good year.