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Spoken Word – Moonsyne Monceaux’s “Louise” @ Houston Flood Benefit Lafayette, LA

Spoken Word – Moonsyne Monceaux’s “Louise” @ Houston Flood Benefit Lafayette, LA

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Dwight James Performs Acoustic of “Coming Home”

Motel Radio – Girl on Fire

Brother Jac – Sugarcane Baby

I Never Liked Country Part II

Read Part I here

It kind of felt like learning to walk again when I left. I felt exhilarated by my new-found separation from such a shaping relationship and simultaneously a little lost. The good kind of lost. The kind of lost that makes you feel like you are teaching yourself something new. Sure, I had pangs of homesickness, because he was what I considered home for as long as I could remember. But missing familiarity eventually turned into embracing change.

I met new people. I dabbled in new relationships. At first, it felt right. Like making an A on a test makes you feel right. Which felt good. New relationships were accomplishments in moving on, but not much more than that. After all, GPAs don’t matter much in the scheme of life. Nonetheless, the new relationships were fun and easy. I could feign attachment without skipping a beat of my own agenda. I almost fooled myself into thinking I was anything but detached. I liked it that way.

I strategically and forcefully changed all of my radio stations; a subconscious attempt at moving on. It was working splendidly until DJ Heavy Metal decided to throw in a little Tim McGraw for shits and giggles. My new guy quickly reached out at the exact moment as me… only he was reaching out to turn the station, and I was reaching out to turn up the volume. “I never liked country,” he said.

As I looked around, it was as if everything suspended for a brief moment, and in that moment, nothing looked right. Something shattered in me, and I immediately thought of him.

After that, I began to shell up even more. I would steam up the bathroom to mimic the humidity we used to bask in. I would pour a little too much on the rocks. I started cooking those savory meals again, and found myself seeking solace in my headphones, blasting nothing but country. I tried to transfer all of the things I loved about him, into my new relationships.

I’ll never forget the moment we reunited. The radio must have been on our side, because the perfect songs trickled in as we sat on the tailgate together in the damp air. I didn’t say anything, I just breathed him in. I never believed in the saying, “you never know what you have until its gone,” just as I never liked Country. But sometimes you just have to admit you were wrong. And that’s why I went back.

I missed you, Louisiana.

This two part post was inspired by A New Orleans Love Story by Joey Albanese about New Orleans.

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Lyrical Interpretations and Junk

Some musicians just have it, you know. That spark that let’s them enter a part of our brains in which they can do no wrong. It doesn’t happen often, but when it happens to me it is sort of otherworldly. The rhythm of the songs don’t get old, even the most asinine lyrics make sense, and I begin to think every album was written specifically for me.

For example, I give you Alanis Morissette. First of all, her name is fucking Alanis. That is the kind of name that makes the Sarahs, Lindseys, and Beccas  of the world feel like lemmings. Then there is her voice. Hurry, think of someone else who sounds like her (okay, besides that Meridith Brooks girl). You can’t.

alanis morissette meme

Keanu, you think of everything.

So you get it, I like Alanis.

I like her regardless of her blatant misuse of the word ironic. I like her regardless off the fact that she either has something very secret and important in one of her pockets at all times, or she’s trying to be discrete about getting off in public. I even like her regardless of the fact that she sings about cross-eyed bears. Those are  the lyrics, right? Right?!

That being said, this post isn’t actually about Alanis but rather inspired by her. It may sound jabby but remember, I already said that I liked her, so it is okay.

You all know her little song about “irony” (also known as things that are unfortunate). With all due respect, I can think of a few things that are worse than a free ride when you’ve already paid. If the ride is free you probably don’t want it anyway. Bam!

Here are five things worse than the original “Ironic” lyrics, because I am clever like that:

1. Ten thousand knives when all you need is a spoon. Think about it. It is way more painful to eat soup with a knife than to cut your PB&J with a spoon.

2. Your wedding day… in general. Zing!

3. A traffic jam when you’re already late to your last-chance court date. You’re going to jail, and it looks like someone else is going to have their hand in your pocket. No, probably just completely in your pants without your discretion.

4. Just a “no smoking” sign.  Obviously I haven’t quit yet.

5. Meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting all five  of his wives.  Say what you want, I just wasn’t brought up that way.

BONUS VLOG: About junk. The kind in your drawers. Not drawers as in underwear. Pervert.

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A Girl and Her Rapper

In yesterday’s post, I revealed a secret about my disdain for sharing my music preferences with other drivers on the road, specifically at red lights. In the comments, there were a few others who expressed secrets involving music. Jillian was educating people at the same red lights, Amber was performing accidental serenades, and TBM revealed his faux music career. Sam also sings T-swift better than me, but that’s okay because much more people show interest in hearing me spit some Eminem.

Me and Slim go way back.

ginger kids love eminem

If I was a boy. Or a real ginger.

I vividly remember the period in my life when I was first introduced to the exquisitely crude lyrics of one of my favorite rappers. I can still smell my old 5th grade classroom and hear the sounds of me cracking pencils out of frustration over those logic puzzles. Isabella, Amy, Tony, and Michael can figure out their own damn class schedules or which gifts they gave to whom for Valentine’s Day. Shit.  But this isn’t about them. This is about my favorite rapper, Mr. Marshall Mathers himself. You will be okay with this once you understand our history.

When Eminem came out with My Name Is, I remember being scared and delighted all at the same time. Scared, because I knew if I got caught singing the lyrics, “I don’t give a fuck, god sent me to piss the world off” at the impressionable age of ten, I would surely be put in jail and condemned to hell. My delight came from Eminem being my first true taste of secret rebellion. It was a simple infatuation that I couldn’t fully understand. It wouldn’t be long, however, before I was able to start understanding and appreciating the verses I was performing for the hair ribbons and stuffed animals in my closet. Read the rest of this entry

10 Personal Post Secrets Revealed

I am borrowing an idea today. You may be familiar with the concept behind Post Secret. I discovered this trend via theBerry, and I can’t seem to get enough of the compilation post of anonymous secrets they publish on Fridays. I’ve been thinking of my own secret behaviors, and since I am being fearless these days, I will spill a few here today. But don’t go telling everyone on the internet or anything. I trust you.

post secret

And being me.

1. I listen to the music in my car at sound volumes reminiscent of the decibels that melted George McFly’s mind. When I pull up to a red light, any red light, I immediately turn it down to a respectable level. I wouldn’t want strangers I will never see again judging my taste in music. I also don’t want children to hear me spitting Eminem like a champ.

2. When I catch an auto corrected text message that turns out to be LOL material, I will send it anyway. Then I send a corrected text after. I feel obligated to do this but also oh so guilty.

3. Sometimes, I forget to stretch before I work out. This one absolutely can not leave this blog. It is too intimate, but it does feel nice to finally get it off of my chest.

4. I once stole a single Lemon Head candy from the grocery store. I’ve been on the run ever since.

5. When I clip Jack’s claws, I pretend I am doing a dire medical procedure. In that moment, I am Chief of Surgery. Sometimes I even put on scrubs.

doctor mask

Yes, it is on upside down. I call it the Becca Method.

6. My real name is not actually Becca. It’s Rebecca.

Should I stop this before I reach a point of no return?

7. My hair color is a lie. There, have we said it enough? Is everyone aware? Good. We wont bring it up again.

8. I try to kill bugs with hairspray. While pretending I am a giant.

9. My pillows on my bed are human. I cuddle with them. Sometimes, I even cuddle with two of them at the same time. The shame is unbearable.

10. My secrets are ridiculous, which really is no secret at all.

I feel naked now. So do me a solid by getting naked with me. Tell me, what is your post secret?

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