Skip to main content

Alanis

Am I a complete sucker for angst-ridden girl singer-songwriters, or what?

I conned my husband into buying me a CD this a.m. (unconvincingly explaining that it could be considered his early Father's Day present because he really likes her, right? sure...) Alanis Morissette's acoustic version of Jagged Little Pill, the album that made her an international phenomenon and became a collection of anthems for angry, done-wrong women everywhere. Available for a limited time only at Starbucks. Something about combining her fierce lyrics with caffeine sits a bit uneasy with me...seems like a volatile mix (don't give that crazy lady any sharp objects, please!). But the acoustic arrangement seems to have sanded off the rough edges of her messages. We're left with a more contemplative, soulful Alanis, better suited to my aging ears and lifestyle. I just realized that this is the 10th anniversary of the first JLP release. Where'd the decade go?

Ten years ago, Tom Cruise was filming Jerry Maguire, still happily married to Nicole, and Katie Holmes was a teenager, giggling on the phone with her friends and blowing kisses at the poster of Brat Packer Tom tacked to her bedroom wall—three whole years before she made her debut on Dawson's Creek. The jury said it didn't fit; OJ was acquitted. On a more serious note, in 1995, some lunatics blew up a federal building in Oklahoma City, killing 169 people. And I graduated from college, bought my first car, spent three months working at a major metro paper in St. Louis, got my first real newspaper job, and moved away from home. I'd not yet met the man to whom I am now married.

I'm still a sucker for angst-ridden girl singer-songwriters. Some things don't change.

You Learn
Lyrics by Alanis Morissette

I, recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone, yeah
I, recommend walking around naked in your living room, yeah

Swallow it down (what a jagged little pill)
It feels so good (swimming in your stomach)
Wait until the dust settles

You live you learn, you love you learn
You cry you learn, you lose you learn
You bleed you learn, you scream you learn

I, recommend biting off more than you can chew to anyone
I certainly do
I, recommend sticking your foot in your mouth at any time
Feel free

Throw it down (the caution blocks you from the wind)
Hold it up (to the rays)
You wait and see when the smoke clears

Wear it out (the way a three-year-old would do)
Melt it down (you're gonna have to eventually, anyway)
The fire trucks are coming up around the bend

You grieve you learn, you choke you learn
You laugh you learn, you choose you learn
You pray you learn, you ask you learn
You live you learn

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

Hair

This has become the age-old question...Why do men hate short hair on women? I've been thinking about this a lot because my current style, an angled bob, requires a bunch of fussing every morning to get it to do anything. My favorite haircut of all time, as far as ease of care, was my pixie cut. I loved that I could wash it, gel it, and be done. No blow drying or flattening or curling. Just gel and go. Very sporty. I thought it looked cute. My husband has another opinion. The longer the better is his motto. Thing is, my hair becomes an unruly, tangled, nappy mop when it gets long. If I had all the time in the world and Jennifer Aniston's budget, I'd be more than happy to grow it long and have others style it every day. In real life, I guess I'd rather go for comfort and convenience. And if you ask me, I think the pixie is dang cute. I suspect heterosexual men aren't hot on short hair, in general, because it's too much like their own hair. No matter how much jewel

Ho, Ho, Ho, How Many Times Can I Use "I'm too busy" as an Excuse?

I haven't had time to write. Work, swim meet volunteering, holiday decorating and shopping. But truthfully, I've not been in much of a mood to write anything anyway. Last night we put up the tree and Santa chachkies, and I drank my first egg nog of the season, so perhaps I'll be in a cheerier mood. Also, I have spent some time writing the annual Schoon holiday newsletter. If you happen to get a copy, treat it like a drinking game. Every time I make you roll your eyes, take a drink. Nog, wassail, Everclear. Whatever gets you through. One sure way to assist with merriment motivation is listening to Christmas carols. I'm not going to get into a debate over what truly constitutes a carol. You can "Jesus is the reason for the season" yourself until you turn blue; I generally lean toward the secular end of the holiday tune spectrum. And if you just gasped at my use of holiday instead of Christmas, go suck on a candy cane. It's my blog and my opinions. Deal.