Old Bailey LJ Entry

9/2/2008

We went to Amscot to cash my check and they gave Bailey a couple mini Tootsie rolls. And as we were leaving, she found a dollar on the floor. We asked people there if it was theirs and it wasn't, so she kept it. And (the little BABY) later she put it in the Ronald McDonald House donation box of her own accord. 'Because it's not really mine but I want to do something with it', she says. My love. 

So, we go get the car's oil changed at Wal-Mart and it begins to storm torrents as we're in there. And we wander the toy aisle and hang out and the rain's just NOT letting up. So we go into the garage area and watch it pouring. "I hope there's a break," I tell her. "Bailey, tell it to stop raining." 

She thinks for a moment and the pulls out one of the Tootsie rolls and hoists it up on high in her pinched little fingers toward the storm clouds. I watch this as casually as I can for a moment before commenting. "Honey, are you trying to stop the rain with the power of your Tootise roll?" 

"Yep," she tells me. "Cause remember when I got this and then I found a dollar." 

Of course. Der, Mom. Sheesh. 

So we wait a little longer and it still doesn't let up. She she sighs, lowers her arm, unwraps the candy and pops it into her mouth. I eye her. 

"It failed me," she says, chewing a little more viciously than she needed to. 

She would make an AWEsome god.

Deth

Cerbic thrashing

Hi-hat strokes that, for all their posturing

Reduce to a guttural glaze.

Look, my bathing beauties -

We can peel this ten ways from Lars

And it's still not going to satisfy

So

As I type, the thundergood goes on in my head

In the simplest terms, ihateihateihate

Enough to levy it up into silliness

It's enough, enuff, to know that

tonight

I am most certainly superior

Despite the predilection for

Le frapper des têtes.

Eround

To love someone that is not good

Is folly, but we often would

Consign ourselves to bitter things

And take the bloodshed that he brings.

Because, of course as we both know

The play commands we suffer so,

Because we would not be content

To take an angel that was sent.

It foretells peace, and peace cannot

Create the passion that we’ve got.

And so, our ego and our id

Conspire to pry up the lid

And let loose folly in the form

Of bastard, bully, thug and worm.

And as he wounds us, we will sigh

And dream of ways that he can die

Quest Boogaloo

Quest Boogaloo

O, how do I make my baby believe

That there are such things as the dinosaurs

And the words all are fine once you write them in

And you’ve got to keep dancing for life to begin?

What do I say so my baby believes

That I just can’t exist ‘til his whimsy come back

And that love is an instinct, and reason is loose

And the magic is stored up all in my caboose?

What a drag, O my baby – we’re mired in real

And nothing’s the way that the other world was

I feel you’ve been poisoned with mortal and thought

When you fight alongside me I’ll pull the dream taut.

I think I’ve been wand’ring; I think I’ve been lost

And he’s got to come over to see what I sing

My baby needs ballast and blarney and bread

There’s sun past the demon that’s borrowed his head

I’ve got to do something; my baby’s all clogged

And how will I take him away to the isle

if the stones in his pocket won’t let the boy swim

And the shade in his soul makes my own soul go dim?

I can’t make him summer; he must make his own

Else where in his heart will I go to find light?

Where will he keep me if shadows are cold

And give me a place where I’ll never grow old?

I thought of the moment when he had to choose

And he took up the New and he banished the Old

And the fire was lit and I burned at the stake

And the choice wasn’t hard for his piety’s sake

I’ll never stop loving. I’ll never undo

all the knots that our fate tugged along through the years

But I fear for my baby and all he can sway

If his hate takes the witch and her magic away.