Emily Wells - Passenger (Official)

I have a special connection with my music savvy friends. For me, discovering a great new song or artist is like immersing myself into the best book ever or visiting a fabulous city for the first time. And when you can share that intense joy with someone who also "gets it," well, that's just the cherry on the sundae!

My friend Tina turned me on to a great artist named Emily Wells ... Just some of the coolest material sung by a chick who truly feels it. I'm on board.

Aimee Mann - Labrador

The hilarious and poignant Aimee Mann, ladies and gentlemen ...

Fiona Apple - Fast As You Can

She is a goddess!

the kindness of good friends

“Why did you do all this for me?" he asked. "I don't deserve it. I've never done anything for you."
"You have been my friend," replied Charlotte. 'That in itself is a tremendous thing.” 
― E.B. White, Charlotte's Web

It had been a rough couple of weeks. I'd  come face-to-face with what I perceived as problems in my long-distance relationship and had assaulted the love of my life with "why didn't yous" and "why don't you evers." He asked if I was breaking up and I told him I didn't know. We didn't talk for a week. My newly-married sister and her hubby came to visit and instead of taking on my usual role as perfect hostess, I drank too much wine and created a madcap scene that would have fit nicely into the movie Bridesmaids. To top it off,  it was an extremely busy week at the office, a couple of things slipped through the cracks, and my boss vocally expressed her disappointment in me. There was a scene. I clearly sucked. 

I cried a lot, moped through my 8-hour days at the office, and was generally the opposite of a joy to be around for a good part of a month. I called in sick one day. I didn't exercise and consumed a diet of tortilla chips, cookies, and white wine. Trying to make sense of it all, I wrote a pathetic blog entry which has since been deleted.

But I did something right. I shared my situation with a few friends, who in turn, went to great lengths to show me how much they cared. My coworkers delivered hand-picked flowers in vases, small gifts, encouraging notes, and candy to my desk. Some sweet girlfriends called and texted. I called my mom, who offered extraordinarily loving, non-judgemental support. I mustered up the strength to go for Saturday morning walk, and when my good friend phoned me and I didn't answer, she appeared at my house. Worried when I didn't answer the door she drove around the neighborhood looking for me. 

The dire days of a month ago are memories now. I patched things up with my boyfriend. He really is in my corner in life, and has made significant efforts in recent weeks to show me this. My sister was another one who reached out to me in my week from hell. She assured me there was absolutely no resentment on her part about what I shall hereby refer to as "the incident." It really was about me forgetting to eat all day (while trying to be the perfect hostess) before drinking some wine, and I am fortunate no false judgement was made on her part about it.  Things at the office have been fine too. My job is frustrating at times, but I enjoy a 3-minute commute to work, am in town for my daughter and whatever she needs from mom, and have a regular income with good benefits - not to mention working with some really cool people. Compared to so many in these hard economic times, I am nothing but privileged and blessed. 

Talk about blessings ...  I am knocked out by the quality of friends and family God has chosen for me. Is there anything in life more important than nurturing these relationships with every ounce of my being? I think not.

Photo by Melissa Mathieson

Team Tim

With my goofy bro somewhere in Germany

If you check into this blog on a regular basis, you might be thinking, "Wow, she really writes about dead people a lot. Why doesn't she just do some intensive grief counseling and be done with it?" Fair warning: The following is another blog about a dead person.

Also if you have been checking in, you will know that my brother/best friend died of complications from AIDS nine years ago. He was 38. If I have anything to say or do about it, those two sentences will NOT sum up his entire existence.

Time really does heal wounds. When I think back on my little bro I am now able smile at the thought of how cool he was without so much of the sadness. At Christmastime, when you flipped the light switch to his bedroom the place became orchestrated with colored lights, Christmas kitsch, and the local radio station playing all-holiday music. To the lyric "Let your hearts be gay," he would say with a smirk, "NOT what you think!"  Precious moments, but my problem - and probably the reason I write so much about dead people - is that memories like these are starting to fade. I have a million of them, but unfortunately, the same phenomenon that causes me to walk to the mailroom at my office and forget why I had come there in the first place is beginning to delete them from my brain's internal hard drive. So I guess I write about this dead guy a lot in a lame attempt to keep his memory alive. He was, and is, so much a part of me.

Once again this year we are doing the AIDS Walk in San Francisco (July 15). Our team is named "The Fans of Tim Elbourne," in his memory. Most of the team members didn't even know my brother, but they are united in the cause and have agreed to stand (or walk) with me, and for this I am grateful. Our team will wear custom T-shirts with my brother's picture on the back. Timmie lived in San Fran and had many friends there. It is my prayer that someone from the walk that day will notice his picture and share a memory or two. I need all the Tim Elbourne stories I can get.

It is also my prayer that someday soon no one will have to lose their brother, friend, coworker, etc.  to this dreadful disease because the disease will no longer exist. It is, unfortunately, our family charity of choice. Our team raised over $1,000 last year and we hope to at least match this amount this time around. It'd be most awesome if you threw us a few dollars toward the cause. You may do so by following this link:

AIDS WALK SF: THE FANS OF TIM ELBOURNE

If you would like to walk with us, I can assure you it'll be a life changing experience! You can do so by clicking on "My Team Page" through the above link. The more the merrier and everyone is welcome!

And if you have already donated, I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Since 1987, AIDS Walk San Francisco has raised nearly $74 million for San Francisco AIDS Foundation and other HIV/AIDS organizations in the six Bay Area counties. Established in 1982, the Foundation refuses to accept that HIV transmission is inevitable. With the unrestricted funds raised by AIDS Walk San Francisco, the Foundation is able to provide direct services to promote health among those living with HIV and implement ground-breaking prevention programs to create sustainable progress against HIV.

Even though there has been success with drug treatments that are prolonging some people's lives, they don't work for everyone. These treatments can also take their toll physically, and for many cause awful side-effects. I am also concerned that so many young people in San Francisco are getting infected. And above all, there is still no cure in sight.

father fixation

I'm having my own personal Father's Day party for my dad this morning. I'm blessed to have had a dad with the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known ... or ever will know. While we've been robbed of his existence on earth for more than 8 years now, in my heart he's more present than ever, gently guiding me through the rough spots and making me laugh on a daily basis. Here are some amazing photos I recently discovered from his White House days in the early 70s.

Tailor

Can't tell you how much I love and relate to this song. The first time I heard it I was in my car after a dental appointment - just sat there in the parking lot weeping at the truth of it.  How often have I altered my very core to be who I thought my significant other (children, friends, family, etc.) wanted me to be ... to the point where I start wondering, "who am I?" It's a comfort to know I'm not alone in this thing I do. Do I dare to know myself well enough to escape from this way of thinking? Anais Mitchell nails this subject ... beautifully, in my opinion.