Falling Up


For those of you still reading over here at XANAX, here’s an update, you can catch me from now on over on Jameson and Vinyl.

https://jamesonvinyl.com/2017/03/31/falling-up/

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Come Away with Me

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Dearest Xanax readers…. I have come to a point in my blogging … career? is that even what this is called…. that I need to archive Xanax or Running Shoes, and eventually shut it down. I know that I have many readers that have been with me from the very beginning, so I want to let you know that although I am shutting this down, I have started the next chapter. If you loved this blog… come away with me, and follow me over at: Jameson & Vinyl.

The Good, the Bad, and the Divorce

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In life we get these moments that string together and make us who we are. That’s what life is, a big run on sentence of moments. What’s strange about going through a divorce, is losing all of the good moments. Because obviously the relationship had them, right? I mean you did fall in love with each other. Back before you were blocking each other’s phone numbers and deleting their naked pics out of your phone. Right? Did you dream that? Moments snuggled up in the morning, before the kids were awake, whispering silly things to each other. GONE. Not just the moment, but THAT person is gone.  It’s like the person you knew died, except you get to fucking fight with the ghost of them! And fault, ha! Fault is such an easy thing to assign. Truth is, it’s my fault. It’s his fault. It’s OUR fault. It was never one moment that led to the fall of Rome. It obviously wasn’t the good moments that led us down this road. It was the moments we walked our own roads instead of walking home, together. One team. Without being united, we stood as an easy target. Now I hear the hatred in every thing you say. It pierces me to know I made decisions that make you speak to me this way. But you’ve always spoken this way to me when you were angry, the only thing new is the hate. And I feel it. It cuts me. It’s doing what you want it to. But not for the same reasons. I used to hate knowing you were angry at me, but now I just hate that we hurt each other. I hate that you think you never mattered to me. I hope that subsides over time and you remember those mornings. Because I don’t want to feel like I wasted ten years of my life in something that ended in hatred. I want to learn from our mistakes. I want to make sure I water and feed the trust moving forward. I want to learn from the mean words that floated between us, because you really can’t take them back. I don’t want to spend another night in a panic attack on the bathroom floor because I said the wrong thing and you turned your phone off. You’re an addiction I can’t feed, it’s no good for me. I read your words again, I can tell I hurt you, because you’re slashing. I know you. I had to fly from here. I read your words. I have to delete them all. I can’t let them be all over my week anymore. I’m standing now. I can do this. 

Counting on the Crows: 2

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img_2163It’s been roughly 86 hours since I watched the Counting Crows. Give or take. I still can’t wrap my brain around it. You know those moments in time that you wait for… then they happen, and before you know it you’re left reflecting on it?

My mind is still blown. Beside itself. Inside out. So without further geeking out all over this sentence, let me try to put this life altering (for me) concert in perspective.

img_10_1458080866_137bd59c41d2c0c14e06c1ba7498c02aI get to Nashville around 5 pm. While changing for the OUTDOOR concert, it starts POURING, monsoon style. Now I’ve missed them before, due to rain cancelling a show… mind you. But this time, I don’t even waiver. Finish straightening my hair, add an extra layer of clothes… fuck it, this is happening. My ticket says rain or shine. Let them try not to play. LET THEM TRY!!! The rain ended as brazenly as it began and the sky became crystal clear within the hour.

img_2117The Ascend Amphitheater is down by the river in Nashville, the city glowing behind the stage. Two beautiful bridges just off to the right, it feels like Nashville. It feels like a great American city built around a river, music, and life. I may have been skipping at this point, which is a big deal for me, I don’t skip… or exude happiness often.

By the time we are finding a place to stand out on the grass, Rob Thomas is already doing that sexy, crooning that he does so very well. His energy radiates from him, and has the audience involved and captivated by him immediately. Not only that, he’s wearing a Counting Crows t-shirt. Whhhaaaaatttt. I don’t want to take away from Rob Thomas for a second, Matchbox Twenty was my first concert, 20 years ago, and I have seen him 4 times since. I LOVE ROB THOMAS.

img_2141However, the Counting Crows… the MFing Counting Crows were about to come on stage. I didn’t miss it… again. And then just like that… they were there. And Adam Duritz was pouring out the lyrics to Sullivan Street. I felt like I was high as hell, my head was spinning, my heart was pounding, there were legitimate tears in my eyes. But I had only started sipping my first beer. The high was straight life and happiness. There is such an amazing quality to that feeling.

img_2253The concert went by in a blur for me. The band was fantastic. His voice was clear and crisp throughout, his mood was energetic and happy. His demeanor feeding off of the intensity of Rob Thomas. They shared the stage well together. One of my favorite moments was listening to Rob sing Rain King with Adam. The first time ┬áhe got to do that on stage must have been surreal for him, I clearly remember him covering Mr. Jones 20 years ago. He’s made it pretty clear he’s a big fan of the band. All in all, my night was an intense high, watching two of my favorite writers/performers end a summer long tour together on stage in Nashvegas, TN.

Until next time sweet Nashville, until next time. xxxooo

Counting on the Crows

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At least ten thousand times I’ve sat down with a pen to capture words and cage them, call them mine and save them. At least a thousand more I’ve stared at a blinking cursor, waiting for the things I wished to say to hide behind the things I must. Backspacing, back peddling, watching the cursor mock me.

Be bold. Be daring. But don’t be hurtful. Don’t be spiteful. Ah those lines they are such a tightrope to walk. Truth hurts, does it not? Tell your story. Free yourself from it. Own it, don’t let it own you. For years, one of my biggest writing inspirations has been Adam Duritz of the Counting Crows. When I say for years, I mean it… I’ve been listening to them since I was 11. It’s been 24 years. I’ve found myself buried in their music in my best moods, my worst, and all the in between. They light my soul up. He says it all. He stabs with truth, and suicidal tendencies, and love, and heart break, and scents of the season, and change. God does he capture, LIFE. The over walked road, the one not taken. Lefts and rights… and the smell of the ocean. The way the lights kaleidoscope in rain drops on your windshield. Ohhhh Lord, I love this band.

So here I am, middle of massive amounts of change in my life, with tickets to see them tonight, their last show of the summer, with none other than Rob Thomas. Who the fuck else would it be. My two GO-TO musicians (I say musicians… but as I say that if you don’t know that by musician I mean, poet, artist, soul inspiring, story telling mastermind…. you should stop reading).  Anyway, tonight… Nashvegas… Counting Crows and Rob Thomas, and I can’t keep a thought. Lyrics are running through me, it’s cloudy outside.

I think about listening to them tonight, with other fans… I wonder where and when and how the lyrics have affected them. What their roads have been. What the impact has been for them. Do they only know the words to Mr. Jones and 3 A.M.? Do they know why Adam wrote Sullivan St? Have they ever wondered who Maria is?

I can’t wait to let the God of Ocean Tides roll through my night. Lyrics of so many songs rattling through me today. I AM SO DAMN EXCITED!

“This dizzy life of mine…” “You open windows and wait for someone warm to come inside…”

My favorite of theirs though, Murder of One:

“Are you happy where you’re sleeping?
Does he keep you safe and warm?
Does he tell you when you’re sorry?
Does he tell you when you’re wrong?
I’ve been watching you for hours
It’s been years since we were born
We were perfect when we started
I’ve been wondering where we’ve gone

All your life is such a shame
All your love is just a dream”
….CHANGE CHANGE CHANGE.
CHANGE CHANGE CHANGE…..
Ok, I am done geeking out…. for now.