F***ed Up Friday: "Untouchable Face" by Ani Difranco

Welcome back, cats and kittens, to another edition of F***ed Up Friday, music for your emotional needs.  In the past, we've examined songs about unrequited love, stalking, jealousy, stalking, longing, stalking, and hacking your arms off in an attempt to woo a murderer.  But sometimes those emotions and those sentiments aren't going to cut it.  Sometimes you don't want to have a pity party with wine and Tori Amos on repeat.  No...you want anger.  You want rage.  And no one does justifiable (or unjustifiable) anger better than a lesbian with a guitar.

They don't have a guitar, but they are lesbians.  And it gives me an excuse to post a Sailor Moon picture!

Today, we're going back in time to your intrepid hero's high school days.  Having moved on from The Cranberries, I needed something new.  Sure, I had my fling with Alanis (who will likely grace these pages someday soon), but it was Ani Difranco who seemed to bring my friends and I together the most.  As I think about it, I've seen her...I think 4 times in concert, all with different people.

Like many of our past and future FUFers, there are many a song that I could pick, and probably I will use many of hers in the future.  But this one is partly for sentimental reasons.  Sure it wasn't the first Ani song I ever listened to...but it was the first track on the first Ani CD I ever owned.

From her 1996 album "Dilate," today's FUF selection is "Untouchable Face" by Ani Difranco:

The first thing about the song is how...calm it is.  However, let's be honest.  While Dido's eerie calm is a way to lull you into security before she puts you under house arrest and threatens to cut you should you ever leave her, Ani's calm doesn't hide her true intentions.  Rather...it's just the slow burning seething.

Think I'm going for a walk now
I feel a little unsteady
I don't want no one to follow me
Except maybe you
I could make you happy, you know
If you weren't already
I could do a lot of things
And I do

Totally my life story.  Honestly.  I'm the best person ever at finding out if some one's in a relationship, because if I like them, they totally are.  Or the plumbing won't work.*
*By which I mean the boy parts and girl parts aren't in the right ratio, if you get my drift...

Tell you the truth, I prefer the worst of you
Too bad you had to have a better half
She's not really my type
But I think you two are forever
And I hate to say it but you're perfect together

Ugh, but who hasn't said it?

Even this guy said it eventually.  Although then again, he fell in love with an infant, so he's probably not the best judge of who should be in a relationship with who.

So fuck you
And your untouchable face
Fuck you
For existing in the first place
And who am I
That I should be vying for your touch?
Who am I?
Bet you can't even tell me that much

Preach it sister.  Who hasn't wanted to say that, at least once?

2:30 in the morning
My gas tank will be empty soon
Neon sign on the horizon
Rubbing elbows with the moon
Safe haven of the sleepless
Where the deep fryer's always on
Radio is counting down the top 20 country songs

Dive bar.  Bottle of wine on your couch.  What's the difference?

Out on the porch the fly strip is
Waving like a flag in the wind
You know I really don't look forward
To seeing you again soon


You look like a photograph of yourself
Taken from far, far away
I won't know what to do
I won't know what to say


So fuck you
And your untouchable face
Fuck you
For existing in the first place
And who am I
That I should be vying for your touch?
Who am I?
Bet you can't even tell me that much

See you and I'm so perplexed
What was I thinking?

Amen, sister!

What will I think of next?
Where can I hide?
In the back room there's a lamp
That hangs over the pool table
And when the fan is on it swings
Gently side to side
There's a changing constellation
Of balls as we are playing
I see Orion and say nothing
The only thing I can think of saying


Is fuck you
And your untouchable face
Fuck you
For existing in the first place
And who am I
That I should be vying for your touch?
Who am I?
Bet you can't even tell me that much

There really isn't all that much to say that hasn't already been said on the subject.  So instead of wallowing in self-pity watching Lifetime movies with a pint of ice cream and a bottle of Pinot Grigio, just give them the finger (literally or metaphorically) and move on.  Because if you reading this, gentle readers, you're probably too good for them anyway.

In Which Our Intrepid Hero Ponders His Past Relationships

As you probably can tell from the title of this amazing blog as well as various posts, our intrepid hero is single.  Quite single.  In New York.  And not the rocking awesome single from sitcoms and HBO, but the overworked-lack-of-sleep-don't-feel-like-going-out-would-rather-just-go-home-and-sleep single.

However, this wasn't always the case.  Last year I was in a long term relationship.  Things started off well.  I was excited to meet my new significant other.  I'd heard a lot about him, but we'd never really met face to face.  Things started a bit rocky as we started to get used to each other, but then things went smoothly.  Granted, sometimes we would grate on each other's nerves, like when I wanted him to speed up and he seemed to just take his sweet old time.  Then again, at times he would demand attention from me at the most inopportune times, like when I just wanted to watch TV or sleep or have some single time (which btw, I believe everyone, even those in relationships, should have).

Sometimes I wouldn't check in with him and then guilt would wash over me.  He never got angry, but I could always tell he was just...disappointed.  Anyway, what started out as a casual relationship soon became all consuming.  He seemed to follow me around constantly, always wanting my attention.  Even if I told him I would be away for a weekend and hence, unreachable, I would still have to check in with him the moment I got home.  There were no boundaries.  11 AM, 3 AM, 11 PM, it didn't matter.  When he called, I had to pick up.

Eventually, it came time for us to break up.  I remember the giddy excitement I had when we first met.  But when it came time to part ways, it was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.  I couldn't wait.  I actually still have some of his stuff, but I don't think he really cares.

If you're curious, here's his picture.

Also known as the Electronic Leash

When I broke up with my work Black Berry (and by broke up, I mean forced willingly giving it back when I got laid off), my life became a whole lot freer.  Sure, sometimes it sucks not being able to check my email constantly, but I think the trade off is totally worth it.

Of course, I bounced back quickly.  After all, me and the Electronic Leash weren't completely monogamous.  I had my little trick on the side.  Now he's not really all that flashy, but he gets the job done.  He's there when I need him and if I don't check in for a while, he doesn't get all clingy on me.  Sure he's not quite the status symbol of Mr. Berry, but you know what?  Maybe I'm just a simple, low maintenance kind of guy.  I get my calls, I get my texts, and I even have a nifty little slide out keyboard.

At least I don't feel guilty ignoring him when he rings at 3:00 AM

In our hunt for a meaningful relationship, we're usually fighting between holding out for "the best" or settling down.  But what is the best?  And what do you do if you really can't afford the best?  Do you still hold out for it?  Do you find a way to get it no matter the cost?

An iPhone may look sleek and shiny and be a status symbol.  But it freezes up just like a frigid trophy wife when you try to hold it in public.  Is that what you want?  Or do you settle with a utility phone without the bells and whistles but won't drop your calls and doesn't mind driving the kids to soccer in a green minivan?  Perhaps you settle for a mid-range Droid, with a few hiccups here or there but mostly works.  But then, do you get iPhone envy?  And do the flashy iPhoners ever wonder what life would be like with something simpler?  Let's recall that the iPhone tracks your every move like Dido a crazy stalker and can only be used with certain accessories you have to buy at a premium.  Hello, can we say "baggage"?

Plus let's recall our lesson from last week, when we learned that joining a cult isn't usually a good idea

But the snazziness of your significant other isn't the only consideration.  Are you the type of person that wants to date around casually and try new things?  Maybe you're not ready for the commitment of a year long contract, so you try something month to month.  Or maybe you're looking for a little extra security, and you worry that if you wait too long, the deal will vanish into this air?  Are you looking for a cheap date who doesn't mind sitting at home and watching movies while eating delivery Chinese, or is your Nobu-loving date only worth it if you invest in their unlimited data plan?

And finally, when it comes to upgrading, what do you do?  Do you stand by the date that's stood by you, or are you in line two days early when Cult Leader Jobs announces something new?  Do you anxiously wait for upgrades or do you not really care?  Are you quick to jump on the next big thing, or do you wait to make sure that they're not completely crazy or have other issues?

In the end, only you can make these decisions, but hopefully, the way you find a phone will help you cope with your own love life.  Or heck, perhaps your own love life can help you deal with your phone anxiety.  But seriously, it's just a phone.  I mean, being able to load Angry Birds on your phone isn't going to help get you laid, no matter what Steve Jobs may tell you.  Now Grindr on the other hand...

F***ed Up Friday: "If God Only Knew" by Beth Hart

Welcome back, cats and kittens, to another installment of F***ed Up Friday.  Last week, we presented a sordid tale of love and loss, of sex, drugs, fur, and cults.  This week, we present none of that.  No, I lie.  This week we present the love and loss (and maybe some of the sex), but gone are the hippie vegans and the cultists.

Today's song returns to the roots of FUF:  Unrequited love.  Now while this isn't quite the creepy stalking love of Dido, the drink alone in the dark unrequited love of Tori Amos, or the completely fucked up trying to commit suicide to impress a girl who is actively trying to murder you of Bruno Mars (seriously!), but it's unrequited love nonetheless.  And best of all, it's probably a song you haven't heard yet (well some of you have because I've forced you to listen to it before).

Note the great unrequited love posture.  Slumping, gazing off into the distance, reaching out to touch someone who isn't there.  Those are all good tips, kids, write them down.

From her 2003 album "Leave the Light On," this week's FUF song is "If God Only Knew" by Beth Hart.  Have a listen here.

If you're thinking to yourself, "Self, I know that singer, where have I heard her before?" you would probably be right.  Beth Hart is most known for "LA Song" which, at least according to the Wikis, reached number 5 on the Adult Contemporary charts.  But we're not talking about that song now.  Focus now...

God only knew, how much I loved that man

Ain't no words to say, the way I feel
It's like a bad dream, but it's real
It seems like only yesterday
We were talkin', in the most familiar way

(At least you're talking...this is a plus...)

Now everybody, knows the way I am
They all see right through my show
I aimed so high, now I'm so low (so low)
I'm all dressed up, and I got nowhere to go

(For the record, that may be my new saying)

If God only knew how I loved that man
I would have died for you, I guess he'll never understand
I loved you right or wrong, it was you all along
Heaven knows that it's true, hard as it's been
I'd do it all over again (over and over, and over again)

I say goodbye to dreamin' (dreamin’)
It's only water, in my hands

(Over, and over, and over…and over again)

So when you see me, walkin' down that street
Don't ignore me, if I speak
'Cause I knew you better, than anyone else
And I loved you more, than you could ever know yourself
(Seriously...who hasn't thought this at some point?)

If God only knew how I loved that man (why don’t you tell me 'bout it)
I would have died for you, and I guess he'll never understand
Loved you right or wrong, it was you all along
Heaven knows that it's true, hard as it's been
I'd do it all over again

(Over, and over again)

So the story is basically the same.  Girl loves boy.  Boy doesn't love girl.  Girl shuts the blinds and closes the door and doesn't let him have other friends anymore.  Sorry, wrong song.  Boy loves girl, girl tries to murder boy, boy responds by trying to commit suicide as a show of undying love.  Sorry, Bruno Mars moment there.

It's certaily unrequited love.  Perhaps even a break up, depending on how you interpret the end of the first verse.  But on a plus, at least this time they were actually talking (in a most familiar way) instead of this being full out stalking.  Then again, as I've told you, just because you're talkign to someone does not preclude you stalking them as well.

It's like shooting fish in a barrel

Of course, rather than, oh say cutting the crap and just telling the guy she loves him, she'd prefer to keep it between her and God.  And although she flirts with suicidal tendencies ("I would have died for you...") at least she never has a Bruno Mars hack-off-my-limbs-for-love moment.

What I think I particularly like about the song is the realization that moving on isn't as easy as certain bloggers would have you think.  Yes, we can rationalize that Super Cute Bartenders are incredibly dumb, that one shouldn't flirt with one's potentially-homo (when you're looking for hetero-lovin') boss who lives across the country, or that unrequited love is having your crush asking for help on their online dating profile, but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with.  We feel good about ourselves when we're in love.  We get that giddy sensation when they acknowledge us and a little bounce in our step when we know we look good, all for trying to impress our mate.  And when things don't work out, we dust ourselves and move on, and do it all over again...

F***ed Up Friday: "The Poignant, Yet Pointless, Crisis of a Co-Ed" by Dar Williams

Welcome back, gentle readers, to another edition of F***ed Up Friday, where your intrepid hero (that's me), will tell you the songs you should be listening to in order to fully deal with your emotional/romantic needs.

First of all, I feel slightly ashamed that I have barely posted in the past two weeks, and that this is coming to you so late on Friday.  But never fear, cats and kittens, I shall be attempting to delight and titillate you with more insightful posts (or at least amusing stories of my life) in future weeks.

But enough chit-chat.  Let us sally forth into the depths of emotional torment.  Or something.  Today's song is one of those tales of love, mirth, and woe.  It tells the story of love found, then tragedy struck, and then lost.  It tells of the struggle to overcome hurt and pain to move on into a brighter tomorrow. 

Ok fine, really, it's about a college girl who finds out her pothead boyfriend is cheating on her.  But you have to admit, I had some good purple prose going there.  And really, not all of our songs can be about hacking off your limbs for love or going to movies alone.  Sometimes we need a little levity.

 

Her parents apparently wanted to name her Darcy, after the guy with the big. . .house. . .in Pride and Prejudice.  I kind of like that.



From her 1996 album "Mortal City," today's selection is Dar Williams' "The Poignant, Yet Pointless, Crisis of a Co-Ed."

Let's take a closer look, shall we?

I'm not a leader, I'm not a left-wing rhetoric mobilizing force of one,
But there was a time way back, many years ago in college, don't laugh,
But I thought I was a radical, I ran the hemp Liberation League with my
boyfriend,
It was true love, with a common cause, and besides that, he was a Sagittarius.

Things seem to be going so well.  You meet someone who has similar interests in you, and you hit it off.  And far be it from me to comment on picking someone for their Zodiac sign.  After all, I was a very amateur totally professional astrologer for a respected news paper.  This is all true, if slightly editorialized.

We used to say that our love was like hemp rope, three times as strong as the
rope that you buy domestically,
And we would bond in the face of oppression from big business and the deans,
But I knew there was a problem, every time the group would meet everyone would
light up,
That made it difficult to discuss glaucoma and human rights, not to mention
chemotherapy.

Ooooooooh.  See, now things begin to go downhill.  Well, not all crushes are good news.  But at least she acknowledges it, as opposed, to say, continuing to stalk/pursue her crush.  As a certain person has never ever ever done.

Well sometimes, life gives us lessons sent in ridiculous packaging,
And so I found him in the arms of a Student Against the Treacherous use of Fur,
And he gave no apology, he just turned to me, stoned out to the edge of
oblivion,
He didn't pull up the sheets and I think he even smiled as he said to me,
"Well, I guess our dreams went up in smoke."
And I said, "No, our dreams went up in dreams, you stupid pothead."

Sigh.  Well it's a fact of life that some times your crushes just don't work out.  You know, sometimes you're stalking your crush and then they turn out to be really dumb.  Or you're at a bar making out with a guy and then he mentions something about balancing his Thetans and you realize that you have stuck your tongue down the throat of a Scientologist.  Which, I should point out, has happened to me. 

And another thing, what kind of a name is Students Against the Treacherous Use
of Fur?
Fur is already dead, and besides, a name like that doesn't make a good acronym.

She does have a valid point here.

I am older now, I know the rise and gradual fall of a daily victory.
And I still write to my senators, saying they should legalize cannabis,
And I should know, cause I am a horticulturist, I have a husband and two
children out in Lexington, Mass.
And my ex-boyfriend can't tell me I've sold out, because he's in a cult.
And he's not allowed to talk to me.

She's moved on!  Hallelujah!  This is a good example of how to deal with a setback in love.  You don't lock them up in a room to make them love you and threaten to cut them should they leave *cough*Dido*cough*  And you certainly don't sit alone in the dark drinking wine and listening to a Tori Amos song on repeat.

No.  You move on, find somebody better, and then laugh at the patheticness of your crush in the first place.  Or deny said crush ever happened in the first place.

But most important, if they do happen to be a member of the cult, never join them.  It never turns out well.



F***ed Up Friday: "Paper Bag" by Fiona Apple

Welcome back, cats and kittens, to another episode of F***ed Up Friday, where we examine the music that goes with your emotional instability.  Last week we examined a song about blowing yourself up for love.  At least based on the comments I got on Facebook, most of you tended to agree that "Grenade" by Bruno Mars was indeed the worst love song ever written.

This week's song certainly doesn't belong in the category of worst love songs ever written.  On it's literal face, it's about a woman who mistakes a piece of garbage for an animal.  However, much like that kid in "American Beauty" who insists that trash is beautiful, our protagonist can only lament that her relationship unrequited crush is both slowly killing her and the only thing keeping her alive.

We're not sure what else is keeping her alive.  It's certainly not food.

From her 1999 album
"When the pawn hits the conflicts he thinks like a king
What he knows throws the blows when he goes to the fight
And he'll win the whole thing 'fore he enters the ring
There's no body to batter when your mind is your might
So when you go solo, you hold your own hand
And remember that depth is the greatest of heights
And if you know where you stand, then you know where to land
And if you fall it won't matter, cause you'll know that you're right" (Yes that's the title), today's selection is "Paper Bag" by Fiona Apple

Let's take a closer look, shall we?

I was staring at the sky
Just looking for a star
To pray on, or wish on
Or something like that

Stargazing…something I can relate to ^_^

I was having a sweet fix
Of a daydream of a boy
Whose reality I knew
Was a hopeless to be had

I must say, I really like this imagery. I think it’s the use of the word “fix.” Because as we all know, if we could bottle love, it most certainly would be a narcotic. And while a healthy relationship can be good for people, sometimes even little flirtations with love can get you hooked; crushes can turn out to be obsessions that aren’t healthy. Now not all crushes are inherently bad, but when you’re planning to lock up your crush for eternity, trying to blow yourself up to impress someone who’s trying to murder you, or finding someone sneaking into your room to watch you sleep “romantic,” then you’ve got a problem.

 

But then the dove of hope began its downward slope
And I believed for a moment that my chances were
Approaching to be grabbed
But as it came down near, so did a weary tear
I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag

You’re all smart people, you can figure out what this means. But in case you are feeling lazy, let’s review: Girl has a crush. Girl sees glimmer of light. Perhaps he asked her to a movie. Perhaps he merely said “see you later” and she responded by thinking that since he therefore SEES her, he must LOVE her. Unclear. Moving on in the lyrics, we realize that this little glimmer of hope has been crushed like ants upon a tuna dish. There’s nothing there.

Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love

Another metaphor that accurately captures the total agony of being in love (thanks, cute kid from "Love, Actually").  Crushes do hurt.  That's why their called crushes.  But at least, unlike certain people, when she realizes her love is unrequited, she doesn't continue to pine over it.  She gets over it.  Imagine that.

And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb
Looking for a little hope
Baby said he couldn't stay, wouldn't put his lips to mine,
And a fail to kiss is a fail to cope

Oh god, she's regressing!  She's gone back to pining.  Seriously, Fiona, you were doing so well!

And I said, "Honey, I don't feel so good, don't feel justified
Come on put a little love here in my void"
He said, "It's all in your head"
And I said, "So's everything'" but he didn't get it
I thought he was a man but he was just a little boy

There...right there.  That line is like THE line to end all lines.  How many of us have thought that at least one time or another.  Especially when dealing with childish emotionally unavailable crushes.  Seriously.  At least she gets it.

Either that or she's bat shit insane.  Unclear.

Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold 'cause these hands are too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love

Preach it!

Hunger hurts, but I want him so bad, oh it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold because these hands are just too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love

Hallelujiah!

Oh hunger hurts, but I want him so bad, oh it kills
Because I know that I'm a mess that he don't wanna clean up
I got to fold because these hands are just too shaky to hold
Hunger hurts, but starving it works, when it costs too much to love

Amen, sister!

So there we have it.  A story about realizing you're in love, your crush isn't into you and/or is in bad news and you're like "hmmm...no."  Or maybe it's about emotional unavailability.  Or maybe it's just about Fiona being crazy and her guy just doesn't realize it.

That or it's just her way to stay thin.

Although in all seriousness, girl needs to eat a bagel or something.