mousme: A view of a woman's legs from behind, wearing knee-high rainbow socks. The rest of the picture is black and white. (Soaring)
[personal profile] mousme


Wings - Mark Chesnutt

Don't get me wrong, I'm doing all right
Can't you see I'm okay
I'm not at home all alone every night
I'm out here dancing old memories away

But it wouldn't hurt to have wings
To lift me above all the pain of the past
And your mind-wrecking love
They say time can fly like a magical thing
But it sure wouldn't hurt to have wings

I don't see things like love any more
The rose-colored glasses are gone
I won't be fooled like I was before
I'm learning now how to fly on my own

But it wouldn't hurt to have wings
To lift me above all the pain of the past
And your mind-wrecking love
They say time can fly like a magical thing
But it sure wouldn't hurt to have wings

I'm gonna fly like an eagle
And rise above it all

But it wouldn't hurt to have wings
To lift me above all the pain of the past
And your mind-wrecking love
They say time can fly like a magical thing
But it sure wouldn't hurt to have wings

No, it sure wouldn't hurt to have wings


I'm getting to enjoy my dancing more every time I go. Something about getting out there on the floor and not thinking about anything other than the music and the steps just makes my heart lighter than at any other time. It's all about me and the music, and that's all that's important.

There's nothing quite like dancing with a partner who knows what he (or she) is doing, for that matter. A good partner will make you forget that you're following a pre-established set of rules, and suddenly you're just floating, carried along by the music and spinning faster on the dance floor than you ever dreamed was possible. A good partner doesn't make you feel like you're dancing with someone else, he'll make you feel as though you're the same person: if you're the follower (which I am in most dances), then his directions feel entirely natural, as though it was what you wanted to do all along except you didn't know it yet.

I have this whole theory about people like me who are control freaks in their everyday lives who get a kick out of letting themselves be pushed around a dance floor (and there's the whole submissive kink thing, but that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish not meant for this post). Relinquishing control is at once liberating and empowering, and doing it to a beat and to music is really an added bonus.

***

Brunch was great fun today. [livejournal.com profile] fearsclave and [livejournal.com profile] terheyt both showed up, which was a very pleasant surprise. I do believe [livejournal.com profile] fearsclave was quite impressed by [livejournal.com profile] terheyt's track record as the school prankster along with her classmates. She and [livejournal.com profile] foi_nefaste should have a long talk about the teachers they tortured. I bet they'd both get a kick out of that conversation.

***

Spent a very pleasant afternoon with [livejournal.com profile] fearsclave. We went to Baron Sports up on St-Laurent, where we drooled over the knives and I gaped at the giant-ass fishing rods (eight feet long!) and humongous rapalas.

Fly fishing is something I could easily see myself getting into, especially after [livejournal.com profile] fearsclave took me home and showed me how to tie flies. I tied a wooly bugger, a mickey finn (I think that's how it's spelled), and one whose name momentarily escapes me, but it had very pretty batting on it. In other words, they all looked like big hairy bugs, which is all for the good as far as trout are concerned.

Okay, when I say "fly fishing" I'm probably being too selective about what I mean to do. Fly fishing is part of it, but if it comes down to it I'd probably be just as happy sticking a worm on the end of a hook and dumping it in a lake somewhere to see if the fish bite. Tying flies is the big advantage of fly fishing: it's all the finicky fun of arts and crafts with the purpose of actually catching fish. So, bonus.

Baron Sports also had a small section of ballistic weaponry, which [livejournal.com profile] fearsclave wanted to ogle, and so I accompanied him. He's thinking of getting an air rifle and plinking at cans with it just to improve his aim. Me, I'm not too fond of things that shoot bullets, but it was a whole 'nother story when I clapped eyes on the very swish bows and arrows they had there.

The main problem I see with hunting, for me personally, is that I'd be shooting things that are cute and furry or cute and feathery, and I don't think I'd have the stomach for it. I honestly don't mind other people hunting. It's what humans originally were built for, or at least evolved to be built for, and if some people want to stick to their roots, then more power to them.

That being said, I don't consider blasting a deer from 500 yards with a laser-sighted assault rifle to be hunting. That's just slaughtering buffalo with a Winchester from a train. No, if you want to be all studly about hunting your own game, then make sure your prey has a sporting chance, and be a sportsman about it yourself: take a bow and arrow and stalk the thing properly. If you must use a gun, use one that needs to be at fairly close range. There's nothing sportsmanlike about sitting in a tree all day and then executing a deer that didn't even get the chance to smell you coming.

So, yes. I'm going to try my hand at fishing and see what happens. [livejournal.com profile] fearsclave has lent me Iphigenia, his fly rod, with which to practice in the backyard, if there's room. Here's hoping poor [livejournal.com profile] ai731 doesn't think I'm totally crazy when she sees me casting flies in the backyard. If it's any consolation, the hook with which I'll be practicing has had the barb cut off to avoid unfortunate accidents. If for some reason the yard proves too small, I shall have to repair to a nearby park to practice.

***


It was the youngest uncle's fiftieth birthday party today (yesterday, technically). Predictably, the party was excruciating. My family are not especially close, and dysfunctional doesn't begin to cut it. By the end the conversation had loosened up a little, and I traded funny pet stories with an aunt and uncle, their daughter, her boyfriend and my father.

My uncle kept trying to convince me to take their cat, Narcisse, a gorgeous thirteen-year-old flame-point Himalayan. It took an extreme effort of will not to take the cuddly lovelykins home with me. He was so nice... But of course it was (mostly) a joke, and four cats is already way too much, even though I love them all. Even when they lie on my keyboard and screw up my post (*glares at Gretzky*).

The less said about the "event" otherwise, the better.

I'd rather have been fishing. :P

***

I have decided to get rid of my car. [livejournal.com profile] fearsclave has kindly said that he'll talk to his girlfriend, known to most of us in LJ-Land as the Wuh-Mun, who apparently needs a car to replace her current clunker, which has seen more than 300,000km. No, I don't really know what that is in miles.

See, I made some recent calculations, and the car's costs are outweighing its benefits at this juncture in my life. WIth the extra cash I could actually get a new recorder and sheet music, take up beading and fly fishing and get myself some decent camping gear, not to mention all the books I've been salivating over, and still have a whackload of cash left over.

The car is sucking my bank account dry on the salary I'm making. So it's time to sacrifice the convenience of having my own wheels and instead enjoy having a bit of financial freedom.

I'm hoping the Wuh-Mun wants my car. It's a very good car, apart from a dent in the door left by a hit-and-run the first year I had it (someone else hit me in the Bell Mobility parking lot, less you people get the wrong idea about me ^_-). I'll need to get a tune-up, change the filters and the oil and so forth, and get the inside cleaned properly, but otherwise it's in fine shape. No rust whatsoever, nary a problem with any of it (a few minor glitches that were easily fixed at every 5,000 km tune-up).

If she doesn't want to go for it, then consider this a public announcement: if you know anyone who might want a nice beige 2002 Pontiac Sunfire with 35,000 km on it, speak up.

***

Much excitement tomorrow (or today now). I'm getting together with [livejournal.com profile] terheyt in the morning to watch a few episodes of Lost, probably just the two-part series premiere given the timeframe within which we're trying to work. Then in the afternoon is the first get-together of Random Colour, our new girl/punk/yet-to-be-fully-defined band.

Very exciting stuff. Shall update more later. Now I shall go keel over in bed. I know it's Daylight Savings time and all, but my clock says 3am and I'm tired.

Date: 2005-04-03 04:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] quietlyurban.livejournal.com
Fly fishing is one of the most relaxing kinds of fishing. Not only do you get the bonus arts and crafts of tying your own flies but you can adopt a sort of psuedo-masterfulness. The careful selection of your own selection of flies, the gentle flick of the rod, the not-getting-it-caught-on-bushes-behind-you, the gentle reeling it in.

Very relaxing.

Date: 2005-04-03 05:27 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mellybean71.livejournal.com
Sorry I couldn't make brunch-- had another Minister search meeting and also a Collective Kitchen.

How much are you hoping to get for the car?

Date: 2005-04-04 02:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mousme.livejournal.com
The car isn't mine, I'm leasing it. So I'd be transferring the lease, which is non-negotiable. It's $319 and change per month. That's obviously not counting gas and insurance, and the yearly $250 licensing fee.

Date: 2005-04-04 03:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mellybean71.livejournal.com
Ouch. That's a lot of money. I'm not surprised you want to dump the car.

Good luck!

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mousme: A view of a woman's legs from behind, wearing knee-high rainbow socks. The rest of the picture is black and white. (Default)
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