Slow Dancing in a Burning Room (John Mayer)

I don't care what you think of his voice or his personal life (as if you really even know him), you have to recognize how incredibly talented John Mayer is when it comes to writing lyrics. Here are some of my fave excerpts:

Pretty much the entire song for Slow Dancing in a Burning Room lol
   "It's not a silly little moment; it's not the storm before the calm. This is the deep and dying breath of the love we've been working on.
    "Can't seem to hold you like I want to so I can feel you in my arms. Nobody's gonna come and save you - we've pulled too many false alarms.
    "We're going down and you can see it too. We're going down and you know that we're doomed. My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room..."

OMG!! Is there a more beautiful way to say "Hey, babe, I know we still love each other but it's over."??

Heartbreak Warfare:
   "Drop his name. Push it in and twist the knife again. Watch my face as I pretend to feel no pain."

That last part gets me every single time.

   "How come the only way to know how high you get me is to see how far I fall?"

Assassin:
   "I was a killer, was the best they'd ever seen. I'd steal your heart before you ever heard a thing. I'm an assassin and I had a job to do. Little did I know that girl was an assassin too."

Half of My Heart:
    "Your faith is strong but I can only fall short for so long. Down the road, later on, you'll hate that I never gave more to you than half of my heart. But I can't stop loving you... with half of my heart.... Half of my heart has a right mind to tell you that I can't keep loving you with half of my heart."


   "Half of my heart is the shotgun wedding to a bride with a paper ring. Half of my heart is the part of a man who's never truly loved anything."

I Don't Trust Myself with Loving You:
   "If my past is any sign of your future, you should be warned before I let you inside."

Daughters:
   "Fathers, be good to your daughters; daughters will love like you do. Girls become lovers who turn into mothers, so mothers, be good to your daughters too."

Why Georgia:
   "It might be a quarter-life crisis or just a stirring in my soul. Either way I wonder sometimes about the outcome of a still verdict-less life.
   "So what, so I've got a smile on. It's hiding the quiet superstitions in my head. Don't believe me when I say I've got it all down." 

No Such Thing:
   "They love to tell you to stay in the lines... I wanna scream at the top of my lungs I just found out there's no such thing as the real world. Just a lie you've got to rise above." 

The Heart of Life:
   "Pain throws your heart to the ground. Love turns the whole thing around. No, it won't all go the way it should... Fear is a friend who is misunderstood... but I know the heart of life is good."

Words for Peace

Why is my blog called Word Peace? Well, there is that obvious play off of "world peace" but more so it's because writing brings me peace.

Life is what it is - beautiful and fun and joyous... and painful and awkward and overwhelming. We all need some form of release, some method for dealing with the highs and lows. I've been guilty of using a less-than-desirable method* to cope, as most of us have, but writing is the one that has blanketed me with a calmness every time - helped me rest when it's oh, say, after midnight and I have to be up really early but sleep just won't come.

Of course, I've also used words to discourage peace, in all fairness. (Hey, I'm only human - have I mentioned that part yet?) I don't believe in "bad" words, but words can certainly be used as weapons, be used as hurtful reminders of someone's failures, be used to encourage heartache instead of comfort. Most of the time, I manage to save the nasty words for my private journal (in really big, bold, chilling handwriting... it's much more effective that way) but whether they are taking canon ball dives off of my tongue or escaping from my fingertips like a creepy fog, sometimes I just say/write exactly what I'm thinking. Oops.

*If you're waiting for me to inform you what exactly that "less-than-desirable method" is, you might as well move on. I'm not ready to be quite that honest. I just figured the intrigue would keep you reading... heh heh.

So what's the point of this post? Mostly, I just want to be able to go to sleep (and I opted for writing here instead elsewhere because it's been a lil while). But also, I hope when you are feeling restless or sad or overwhelmed, you'll choose the method that ultimately heals you instead of the one that ends up destroying you.

*yawn*

Why, Thanks!

I don't know why bad things happen to good people. However, in my current lifetime I have noticed something very interesting:
Yes, bad things happen to "good" people. But bad things also happen to "bad" people.
Good things happen to "good" people. And good things happen to "bad" people.

It makes me think of that Bible verse about it raining on both the just and the unjust.

Sometimes it seems like Karma totally works... and sometimes, if I'm honest, it seems like Karma feel asleep at the wheel. (Hahahahaha, get it? A wheel is a circle.. karma is the idea of what goes around comes around...hahahahaha. Hey, I found it verrrry clever.)

Anyways, the point I'm getting to is this - I could say that you should be thankful, because if you're thankful you'll set yourself up for more good things to happen to you. Truth is, I can't guarantee that. What I can say is that having a thankful heart will enable you to see how much good is already in your life and will keep you in good shape for noticing the good things that'll happen to you in the future. Likewise, if you're not thankful for what you already have, you'll be more inclined to pay the most attention to any negative things that happen to you in the future.

It goes along with that saying about money not buying happiness. After all, it's never about what you have, what your relationship is like, or what your health is. It's always about how you perceive yourself based on what you have, how you see your relationship, how you feel about your health. Ya know - perception is the ultimate reality, it's all relative, etc, etc, etc.
*Not to say it doesn't suck to be poor, lonely or sick - I'm just digging a little deeper than those surface symptoms.

Basically, I just don't think that gratitude is a magical formula that brings good stuff your way. I think gratitude is like a good pair of contacts or glasses that puts things in better focus.

Happy Thanksgiving. 

WHINE Hangover

Lately I'm sad to say that I'm living in a perpetual hangover. The dull headache, the heavy eyelids, the achy muscles, the sluggishness, the nausea, the edginess that makes you want to snap at anybody and everybody. The thing is, my "hangover" is not from alcohol but it has a whole lot to do with WHINE.

I don't know what is up, but my darling super-intelligent 22-month-old cannot seem to request anything without dragging out every syllable.

"Mooo-mmmm-yyy, Iiii waaaant moooore innn cuuuup pleeeeease."

"I waaaant tooo eeeeeat!"

"Noooooottt sleeeeeepy!" 

And my all-time fave: "Nnnnnn-nnnnn-ndy!!!" (Translation: CANDY) 

He recently learned the word "mine" just to top it off. 

These days he even sings his ABC's with a nasally on-the-verge-of-tears ear-throbbing sound.

Did I mention that everything he says is repeated over and over and over and over again and followed by a continuous whimpering even after I've fulfilled his request? He does mix it up every once in a while by adding a piercing cry or throwing himself on the floor in a sprawled out nobody-cares-about-me fashion. (And here I thought I wouldn't have to deal with that attitude until he's a teenager.)

I have to admit that as much as I loooooove him (and I absolutely do) the continuous wailing is really getting to me. It's like someone is constantly flicking my nerve endings with a guitar pick. No, it's not excruciating pain, but it sure gets annoying after a while. 

I gaze over at him now and he is sitting in the floor playing with miniature cars saying "Vrrroom, vrrooom, *sniffle, sniffle, whimper* vrrooom."

Sigh. Maybe he's in pain with the last of his teeth coming in. Maybe it's just a phase, maybe it's a part of his personality. Who knows, really? (If you DO know, please inform me so I may adjust the situation LOL.) Maybe the universe is trying to teach ME something.

Well, I can say that I've realized this much: Hangovers suck. But that doesn't keep me from drinking alcohol on occasion - because the good effects are worth the risk. (And I've learned how to generally avoid hangovers too hehehe.) 

Likewise, when I chose to be Gavin's mommy, I chose the annoying stuff right along with the good stuff. I'll never regret that choice, no matter how intense the symptoms may get - because being intoxicated with his love is worth every damn one of 'em.

                                                   (Forcing him into a picture with Mommy)

Bitter~Sweet

Halloween = Candy
Candy = Sweet
therefore:
Halloween = Suuh-weet

Absolutely. So what's the bitter part? It's all going by so fast. Seems like just last year I was painting my belly into a jack-o-lantern. Sigh...

Roses Are Not Automatically Romantic

I don't know many women who care much for roses, and yet most women I know love to receive flowers - preferably in public with plenty of witnesses.

So what does this mean? It means there is more to romance than what most people think. Romance is more than the cliche' of rose petals and wine, candles and tear-jerker movies. That doesn't mean it won't sometimes include things of that nature, but it's more about paying attention to the details of the object of your affection.

For example: A man could buy a half dozen red roses for his girl because they're generically associated with love. OR he could buy her daisies because on their first date they went to the fair and she got a daisy painted on her cheek.

Roses say "Hey, I love you and I was thinking about you." That's sweet.
(Granted, some men never even bother with buying roses. Jerks.)

But the daisies say, "Hey, I know you and I love you. I pay attention to this relationship because it means so much to me."

Of course, the daisies are just an example. Maybe the woman you love has a thing for orchids or tulips. Heck maybe she's allergic to flowers altogether but really loves Snickers -- the bite-size ones, mind you. So fill a flower vase full of those and drop them off at her workplace =)

Want more help in the area of sweeping a woman off her feet?
Visit me at
www.theRomanceTeacher.com

Flip a Coin

I had this dream yesterday... It was kinda jumbled and weird as dreams tend to be (mine are, at least), but there is one part that keeps replaying in my head. It was rather insightful, as dreams tend to be (especially mine, *wink*).  In the dream, Hubs and I stopped at a random bar and grille. Halfway through the meal he stands up and calls the attention of the servers, bar tenders and the few patrons sitting nearby. Then he starts talking all this inspirational stuff (sorry, Hun, I can’t remember the specifics, but the group seemed to like it). At the end he tosses a quarter to me and announces that I, too, have a quick sound bite for them.

Here’s what it was:

I flipped the coin into the air and told the bartender to guess “heads or tails”. I go on to explain that there was a fifty-fifty chance that he was right. That part was out of my control – left up to God/the Universe/What-have-you. Still, I was in charge of throwing the coin in the first place. So it’s like this: we have our part to play and so does the Cosmos. The point is to know your role and give it your best shot, but just as importantly, don’t confuse what you’re supposed to do and what is up to God.

Of course, it was just a dream, so ya know…  *smirk* 

Un, Tuuuu, Teeeeeeee!

I hear this phrase approximately 126 times a day: “Un, tuuuuu, teeeeeeee!” (Translation = One, two, three!) That “teeee” part is exceptionally high-pitched.

Gavin likes to say this right before he jumps off of the couch… or the kitchen table…or the bar stool… or whatever location he has managed to climb onto before I reach him. When I’m in bed, his favorite way to rouse me is to quietly climb onto the opposite side of where I’m sleeping and dramatically flop onto my stomach.  Of course, I can’t complain because he always gives me a fair warning – you know, a softly whispered, “Un, tuuu, teeeeee!”

Not that I’m getting any special treatment from him or anything. Because, trust me, if you are a visitor at our place – let’s say you’re cozy on the couch watching television – he’ll happily scurry onto the arm of the couch and lunge toward your head, just to make you feel welcome. Furthermore, in an effort to show off, he might even ascend a few shelves on the bookcase, grab an armful of books and dive dramatically back to the carpet to deliver them. If you’re really lucky, while you’re standing in the middle of the living room playing the Wii he will drag his clothes hamper into the room, climb on it and dive toward you – promptly knocking you on your arse and causing you to ruin any chances of winning the game. Of course he never does any of this without first voicing his slogan of “Un, tuuuu, teeee!”

This activity is not limited to our home only, if you were wondering. Getting from my car and across the parking lot to the library is usually a series of squats, un-tu-teees and leaping. (Hmmm, I really hope you can get that image in your head.) If I’m at your house and place my purse on a counter, he might manage to scale that particular counter – so that he may rummage through the contents and then pass out tampons to everyone.

After a church service, I’m usually given the same report by whoever is managing the class that day. “Gavin is so well-behaved. He is friendly and always shares the toys. (pause) There is one thing… he likes to, um, climb things… uh, not just the play sets we have for that purpose but other things such as the windowsill and the snack table…”

I like to smile and respond, “Isn’t it awesome that he’s learning to count already?”

Yes, my child is engaging in rather dangerous activity and requires intense supervision, but with the attitude he’s got, I’m excited about his future. There’s something to be learned from the lil daredevil. Sometimes you’ve just got to jump in spite of the risk… even better if you can enjoy the thrill.

Everybody now: Un, tuuu, teeeeee... 

Be Fair to WORDS

Grrrr. I hate it when someone says something like “Words could never express…”

Dude, you’re seriously not giving Words enough credit, and it’s never fun to be underappreciated. Words works hard. Words has spent hundreds – thousands – of years developing and strengthening, translating, morphing, dividing and multiplying, engaging, entertaining, directing, emoting, guiding, representing and… well, that list just keeps going. How dare you tell Words it can’t do something!

Maybe that’s the reason not everyone is cut out to be a writer. Because, I have to tell you, to be a writer you have to respect Words, you have to believe in Words. Sometimes that means a lot of time spent rephrasing, tweaking and rethinking. It’s worth it though, because Words will not let you down. I repeat, Words will not fail you.

“Words can’t describe how…”

ICK!! Phrases like that are not romantic or endearing – they are lazy! Sure, some situations and feelings are harder to communicate than others but that makes them a challenge - not an impossibility. I keep getting that image of a needle in a haystack. Would it be difficult to find said needle? Of course. But with consistent effort and patience, it can be done.

So please, rethink and rephrase if you must. Just be fair to Words. 

But I Really, Reallllly Want It...

Recently I took Gavin to this gorgeous little park area to hear Hubby’s band and I was delighted to have all that space for the kid to run around. But five seconds into it and the little dude has uncovered some cord linked to a nearby light post. What the hell? It’s the same type of thing at home. If I bring out his blocks, books, cars and noisemakers to distract him while I clean, within minutes he’ll be unlocking the dishwasher and pulling out knives to “play with”. How does he have this sixth sense to find the one thing in a room that he’s not supposed to mess with? More so, since he has this sixth sense why doesn’t he use it to stay away from the hazardous things instead of being drawn to them?

The thing is, Mommy still has this habit too. And I’m guessing that when you see a sign that says “please use other door” you still instinctively see if that door will open. Same thing with a “wet paint” or “wet floor” sign. You just have to test it. This is why diets are such a struggle. The moment you tell yourself something is off limits, the craving becomes uncontrollable. Thanks to my metabolism I’ve never been much of a dieter… but let’s just say I have quite the attachment to Dr. Pepper. (I’m averaging only one a day which is incredible. Ok, two, dang it.)

Once I had this crazy unexpected attraction to a guy. A strong attraction. I was convinced that because what I felt was so strong, there was no way it could be one-sided. The two of us were like magnets, irrevocably drawn to one another. Turns out he was the magnet and I was just… a paperclip. One of many paperclips. And some of those other paperclips were much shinier. Ouch.

So now I’m still wondering: I was genuinely surprised by my sudden attraction to this guy, but was my attraction to him genuine? Or did I subconsciously figure out that I could never have him and thus my attraction was born? I really like to think that if the feelings had been mutual, that we would have had an enjoyable relationship, but maybe I would have been turned off the moment he said he liked me too. I guess I’ll never get to know.

Alas, I’ve still learned something. Yes, it is good to want what you have – a grateful heart will take you a long ways. But it’s also natural – and good – to want what you can’t have. Why? Because it’s that hunger that pushes you for a better life… it’s that drive that makes humanity evolve.

Once upon a time, if you were a woman you couldn’t have an education. Well look at me, I’ve got my very own blog – based upon my ability to read and write, and the encouragement I’ve been given my whole life to think and dream.

There are so many diseases and world problems that will not be solved in our lifetime, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t chase those cures and solutions. Because what we learn and do accomplish in our lifetime enables the next generation to go one step further until inevitably the world really is a better/healthier place. Look how far we’ve come, imagine how far we will go. It’s all because we continue to want something that we’re told we can’t have. 

Are You Breathing?

"This relationship is dead." Someone said that to me once. And it hurt. I mean it stung. But I couldn't argue. In that moment I wasn’t even taken by surprise, because the truth was of course it was dead – I had been holding my breath during the entire relationship. Extended time without oxygen and things tend to cease existence.

I held my breath because I was terrified of being a disappointment, horrified that once a few of my less-than-flattering character traits made an appearance I would be abandoned. Or worse – that my presence would become tolerated but not wanted.

In the end though, it wasn’t the fact that I’m imperfect (shocking, right?) that pushed him away. It was the fact that I couldn’t just be myself… I couldn’t just breathe around him.

Why did I struggle with this? What was that fear that if I showed a little freaking humanity I’d no longer be worthy of love? I think it goes back to Sunday school where I was informed that I had to earn God’s love by being on my best behavior. You know, get good grades in school and no more painting my brother’s nails hot pink while he was sleeping. (I ended up the valedictorian of my class, but admittedly I’m still mean to my sibling on occasion…)

Whatever the reasoning, I’d like to ask – Are YOU breathing? Are you comfortable being yourself, your true natural self? I don’t just mean in your romantic relationships… I mean when you’re in the company of friends or family, when you’re surrounded by strangers... when you're alone?

I’m telling you, there is definitely something to this breathing thing. That’s why there’s a lot of focus on it during meditations, it’s a huge part of the birthing process, and it plays a significant role in any exercise or sport. Speaking of… Let’s take it to the bedroom. “Talking dirty” might get awkward but a little heavy panting… Now that’s a turn on every time.

Maybe I am the only one who’s been holding her breath, but let me tell you what I’ve learned. It’s better to breathe and risk rejection than to… um, suffocate. 

I Love Me, I Love Me Not

I’ve been guilty of pulling apart a flower in hopes of discovering whether or not the guy I liked was also crushing on me. Can’t say that it was a very accurate process, yet it’s a practice I haven’t outgrown. I’m no longer sacrificing Mother Nature’s creations but I find myself in the same pattern… Allowing rather irrelevant things determine my self-worth…

Petal number one: I wake up to a world of possibilities, feeling like there’s plenty of time to get a lot accomplished. Bonus, coffee is already made. Thanks, Hubs! Today, I’m going to teach my 19-month-old son Gavin the alphabet and start potty training him. I’m going to make tasty but healthy meals, send out a witty letter to a few literary agents, pay the bills, clean the house, and find time to read on the patio. I love life, I love me.

Petal number two: It’s already lunchtime and somehow I still have half a cup of coffee left. To microwave or not to microwave? Gavin picks up the letter A block and proclaims “Aaay!” …Only to pick up the letter S block and do the same thing. I discover training pants are a lot harder to clean up than regular diapers and now there’s a mysterious wet spot on my carpet. Exactly when does urine become unsterile? It feels like such a waste of time to cook for just two people when I’m already behind on my to-do list. Especially when one of us is dancing around demanding  “Ogdog! Ogdog!” (Translation = hotdog). Life is a lot of work and I can’t keep up; I love me not.

Petal number three: I trade out my cold coffee for a cold Dr. Pepper and the world is instantly a delightful place again. Gavin is down for a nap, which gives me time to finally tackle that to-do list. I’m a multi-tasker, this should be easy enough. Within fifteen minutes, I’ll have done the dishes and started laundry and vacuumed. While I eat lunch, I’ll pay the bills and contact those literary agents. And the weather is just gorgeous today – sunny but breezy – so off to the patio to get stuff done! Life if beautiful; I love me.

Petal number four: Apparently, mosquitoes like sunny/breezy weather too as evidenced by my itchy skin. I’m in a habit of drinking entirely too much Dr. Pepper; I should be drinking more water. At what point did I think that paying bills would be uplifting? And why the $%&* should I bother sending out more letters when so far every literary agent has responded the same way? “Dear Ms. Scott, while your novel certainly has merit, unfortunately I’m not the right person to represent you… I hope you continue searching until you find the right match… blah blah blah.” Oh, is that Gavin I hear knocking on his bedroom wall? Awake already?? If I was smart I would have taken a nap with him. But apparently I’m neither smart nor successful. Life sucks; I love me not.

Petal number five: I have the most adorable, smartest kid ever. He crawls into my lap, “Mama, hug.” He loves me, he realllly loves me. I love life; I love me.

I Love Me, I Love Me Not

I’ve been guilty of pulling apart a flower in hopes of discovering whether or not the guy I liked was also crushing on me. Can’t say that it was a very accurate process, yet it’s a practice I haven’t outgrown. I’m no longer sacrificing Mother Nature’s creations but I find myself in the same pattern… Allowing rather irrelevant things determine my self-worth…

Petal number one: I wake up to a world of possibilities, feeling like there’s plenty of time to get a lot accomplished. Bonus, coffee is already made. Thanks, Hubs! Today, I’m going to teach my 19-month-old son Gavin the alphabet and start potty training him. I’m going to make tasty but healthy meals, send out a witty letter to a few literary agents, pay the bills, clean the house, and find time to read on the patio. I love life, I love me.

Petal number two: It’s already lunchtime and somehow I still have half a cup of coffee left. To microwave or not to microwave? Gavin picks up the letter A block and proclaims “Aaay!” …Only to pick up the letter S block and do the same thing. I discover training pants are a lot harder to clean up than regular diapers and now there’s a mysterious wet spot on my carpet. Exactly when does urine become unsterile? It feels like such a waste of time to cook for just two people when I’m already behind on my to-do list. Especially when one of us is dancing around demanding  “Ogdog! Ogdog!” (Translation = hotdog). Life is a lot of work and I can’t keep up; I love me not.

Petal number three: I trade out my cold coffee for a cold Dr. Pepper and the world is instantly a delightful place again. Gavin is down for a nap, which gives me time to finally tackle that to-do list. I’m a multi-tasker, this should be easy enough. Within fifteen minutes, I’ll have done the dishes and started laundry and vacuumed. While I eat lunch, I’ll pay the bills and contact those literary agents. And the weather is just gorgeous today – sunny but breezy – so off to the patio to get stuff done! Life if beautiful; I love me.

Petal number four: Apparently, mosquitoes like sunny/breezy weather too as evidenced by my itchy skin. I’m in a habit of drinking entirely too much Dr. Pepper; I should be drinking more water. At what point did I think that paying bills would be uplifting? And why the $%&* should I bother sending out more letters when so far every literary agent has responded the same way? “Dear Ms. Scott, while your novel certainly has merit, unfortunately I’m not the right person to represent you… I hope you continue searching until you find the right match… blah blah blah.” Oh, is that Gavin I hear knocking on his bedroom wall? Awake already?? If I was smart I would have taken a nap with him. But apparently I’m neither smart nor successful. Life sucks; I love me not.

Petal number five: I have the most adorable, smartest kid ever. He crawls into my lap, “Mama, hug.” He loves me, he realllly loves me. I love life; I love me.