A Piece Of My Heart

This morning marked the arrival of my son here in California.

He last visited in April as a boy.

Apparently, in the months since, he has become a handsome young man.

It’s going to be a fun month.

Mom and Tyler 8/4/11



Vinyl Memories

Remember those days when you put an ALBUM on the TURNTABLE and listened to your favorite tune? Your tune played in all its glory, crackles, pops and all. I miss those days.

I want those days back again.

I’m on the search for a turntable and some new vinyl. There’s just something utterly romantically nostalgic about listening to music via vinyl.

I still remember as a child, one of the first things my mom taught me was how to properly put an album on the turntable. I remember pulling it gently from the paper sleeve, holding it by the edges, being careful to gently blow off any lint or stray cat hairs that had found themselves affixed to the disc. I remember placing it gently on the turntable, then watching as the stylus moved up, over and down on to the grooves. With that, music began to play, and fill my Koss-covered ears with the absolute delight.


Those days have been lost with the advent of mP3’s, digital music and the like. I’ll be the first to admit, that I am a techie with the best of ’em, but there are just some things that cannot be improved.

Music on vinyl is one of them.

Call me crazy, but I don’t necessarily want my music “digitally remastered”. I want to hear every click, pop, and unintended sound as the music plays. I’ll take a vinyl listen of The Rolling Stones, “Sticky Fingers” or Pink Floyd, “Echoes” any day over a digitally remastered edition. Why? That’s easy. These vinyl recreations are the way the artist originally intended these masterpieces to sound. What you may call “flaws”, I call “character”.

Think of it this way: your life isn’t perfect, why should your music be?

If you’re one of the lucky ones who still has a turntable, take out one of your favorite albums today, and really give it a listen. Listen to all of it; the melody, the harmony, the interplay between instruments and vocals, but most of all, listen to the very sounds that give it the character it has.

And keep listening.

Midweek Miscellany

I’d love to say there were earth-shattering things going on here to report.

That would be a lie.

Instead, I’m going to post miscellaneous thoughts about absolutely nothing in particular. Isn’t that really what blogging is all about?

I always enjoy my stretch off between my nights of working. I’ve been off since Tuesday morning, and I don’t return to work until tomorrow night at 2300. Until then, I plan on maximizing relaxation, Twitter, Tumblr and Words With Friends, mixed in with a dab o’ chatting online.

It’s been busy here at the Hilltop Haven. Electricians worked for two days to update the wiring, add outlets, and most importantly, run a dedicated line out to the hot tub. Life is suddenly a whole lot sweeter. And wetter. And sweatier. Boyfriend has been busy the past two days, building wall mounts for the flat panel televisions, entertainment centers and wine racks. Perfect. We can now watch tv and drink wine from our massive fucking selection. Our wine count is well over 100 bottles at this point. I’m well on my way to becoming a bona fide wino.

Just today boyfriend murmured in my ear, “I’m trying to make our house a home.”

He’s succeeding.

Hard to believe that we have been in the house for almost a year in June. Time flies when you’re happy with each other and the home you are making. I’ve never been “domesticated” like a house cat, but I find myself becoming much more so with each passing day. I rather enjoy doing nothing more than staying home, doing house work, fixing dinner, being able to work out whenever I wish and enjoying just the nearness of boyfriend as he goes about his daily grind before heading out for the night shift.

We have settled into a nice routine. Not a routine that makes you want to slit your wrists from the boredom of it all, but a routine that lends itself to comfort, knowing there are certain things we derive a bit of happiness from just because they are familiar. There IS a difference. I’ve lived the difference.

In other news, I’ve been in touch with a few more people from Facebook who are wondering why I’ve been absent. I give them the stock answer. “I’m tired of the drama.” “I’m bored with it.” Truth be told, I don’t miss it that much. It’s been a breath of fresh air, not being on there nearly so much. It has become the age old saying, “How can I miss you, if you don’t go away?”

It’s been a good week here with the godlessnurse.