Cannonball by The Breeders was like my theme song in the 90′s. The song itself is from their 1993 album Last Splashand the single reached #44 on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100, and #40 in the UK Singles Chart. It was released in France in November 1993, where it remained charted for 30 weeks, peaking at #8 which is cool.
The Breeders were formed in 1990 by Kim Deal of Pixies (another amazing band) and Tanya Donelly of Throwing Muses (which is also a pretty good band). I could never keep up with who was actually in the band since the only consistent member was Kim Deal, but you can’t hate them and I don’t know too many people who doesn’t like this song.
Sarah’s life had changed in an instant and there was nothing anyone could do to reverse it back to the way she was living previously to this event. She had hard evidence suggesting that she was someone else and confirming her suspicions about her psychiatrist and “husband.” There was now only one mission and nothing else and it as obvious of where she was going and what she was trying to do. (more…)
I love this duo. The “future pop” group, Purity Ring, consists of Megan James and Corin Roddick who are both originally from Edmonton. Vocalist and trained pianist, James, started writing lyrics when she was 16, while Roddick– a former touring member of patchy electro outfit Gobble Gobble– has drummed in various hometown bands since he was 14. Together the two create stammering beats and pitched-down vocals, as heard in this song Ungirthed, that are derived from Roddick’s love of Southern hip-hop.
I was cornered the other day by one of my weekly blog readers who had pointed out my very opinionated style of writing. I responded, with what I thought was the obvious, and mentioned that it was a blog and not some national or world news organization that was solely there to present unbiased facts. I felt as if I didn’t understand her concern. She had told me, in so many words, that my blog posts were just putting people down.
I have to admit that my very sarcastic and dark sense of humor does make me sound like I’m being mean at times, and maybe I just am. But when she brought up the example of my last post about Yoga, I didn’t quite get why she was saying that my words were in any way mean. (more…)
The blue truck from her fleeting memories was staring back at her, and with no one near in sight, she backed away from the dusty window and around the side of the wooden structure to the door. Luckily it was left unlocked so Sarah just walked in to the broken down structure. It had to have sat dusty and untouched for quite a while because when she slid her finger across the hood of the vehicle it left a brighter and more vibrant blue underneath the now disturbed layer of filth. It didn’t make sense as to why anything would be hiding out here in the middle of the forest like this until another wave of a forgotten time rushed over her. (more…)
Not going to lie. This song, Luvu4lyf, is pretty epic.
Faith Holgate (vocals, guitar), Lois McDonald (guitar), Anna Donigan (bass), and Lara Williams (drums) of Manchester make up the rock band PINS. The all-girl group is a force to be reckoned with carefully crafting and stringing together powerfully beats and melodies. I hear the phrase, “They’re the most Brooklyn band ever to come from Manchester,” over the music blog scene about this awesome group and I’m positive that it’s the best description for them other than very 80′s punk. I totally dig it though.
All of the swirling thoughts of time that has passed and the images of a blonde-haired blue-eyed women sitting next to Sarah inside of a blue truck had forced an idea in her head that had been deeply seeded in the back of her mind. It was obvious how her husband and her psychiatrist were involved with her memory loss. Sarah knew that they were the ones responsible for it. They wanted her to forget something that was so much a part of her life and her being that it has nearly driven her to the state of madness. A piece of her soul has been partial ripped, and she was going to figure out how and why. (more…)
There were meetings scheduled throughout the course of Monday and Tuesday that had filled up my days like the flood of liquid spilling out from the over watered decorative pot with the dead plant in my mother’s kitchen. It was clear that the dried brown leaves falling out of formation that were once all tied together in a pretty little bow were beyond saving, but the compulsive habit of pouring the lukewarm water over the potted plant everyday just continued to take place despite the once green living thing’s unresponsive drowning. My car had been placed in and out of the auto shop after the year that I have spent driving it through hell and back and then through hell again, and I was nervous all the while when it came time to introduce myself to my new interns that would help me run an online magazine. (more…)
Cindy and I woke up the next morning and left the small motel in the town of Tracy behind after fueling up the gas tank and our bodies at what seemed like the town’s only gas station. We had roughly six hours left, of driving through the Northern part of California that everyone forgets about, before we could even cross the state boarder into Oregon and I wasn’t really sure where we were going after we got up there. The hitchhiking passenger in my car’s front seat was still being incredibly mysterious, and I still didn’t know anything about how she was related to this strange story. As we made our way back to the five-freeway I decided to make it my mission to find out more about the stranger sitting beside me. (more…)
“Bad writers are bad because they stop too soon. In fact, let’s take a step back. The only quality, I think, that marks the writer as different from everyone else is simply an unwillingness to quit. Others give up when they learn writing is hard; the writer struggles on. When I sit down in front of the blank page, it’s no easier for me to fill it than anyone else. The non-writer looks at the blank page and — quite sensibly — says, ‘forget it, I’m outta here.’ But if they had to, they could put a few words down there — just like I do. Only the words wouldn’t be any good. So the non-writer gets frustrated, gives up and leaves. Me, too, I get frustrated… but I sit there, and work to make it better. Anybody who’s willing to struggle, I think, can write. The real work is to stick at it until you find the gold. To get to that funny line. To do the hard work no one else wants to do, but everyone wants to have done. To discover the great character bit, the clever story turn. Until you have it, you don’t have it. Until it’s there, it’s not there — and you need to stick at it until it is there.”
— Terry Rossario
It seems as though the only way to pull a writer out from the depths of absolute nothingness is to force a gun up to their head and tell them to write. It’s as if the stern actions from their jacked-up ridiculously terrifying action hero of a muse has the power to lift the verbal blockage that releases the most wonderful stories known to man. Why is it though that I have to force myself to write in order to overcome the mind boggling pause in my creative stream of consciousness? (more…)
There it was again, an attractive woman with short blonde hair wearing jeans and a white button up t-shirt that was two sizes too big sat before Sarah in a car.
“Ready?” The woman said to Sarah as she threw the old blue Chevy pickup truck into gear.
“Yes,” Sarah said.
The woman scrunched her tiny nose and let her bright sparkly blue eyes peek through behind her long lashes as she smiled at Sarah. “Okay, this is it then. There’s no turning back.” (more…)
“I stopped dieting when I figured out that you just have to eat regularly and properly within moderation,” wrote Now magazine quoting Jennifer Aniston. “The fads are too much.”
Seeing ads and articles promoting popular “fad” diets in the attempt to try and find facts and figures about the diet industry only proves the point that there are a lot of people out there spending money on quick fixes instead of changing their lifestyle. And the $40 million a year going into the pockets of the diet industry doesn’t help the argument in favor of crash diets. (more…)
Sarah Liera had been trapped underneath her psychiatrist’s desk in the middle of the night for over an hour before that same psychiatrist got up and left to use the restroom again. If it wasn’t for the hot tea rushing though his body at the moment Sarah could have been trapped there all night.
She made her move quietly and quickly when she heard the door shut and threw the file back in to the cabinet and shut it all in one swipe. She then shuffled off into the front room and eventually out of the window nearly hurling herself outside of the building. She never stopped running once her feet hit the dirt and she traveled into the dark with no newly acquired knowledge that she so desperately sought. (more…)
In a matter of five months my life has went from incredibly depressing to surfing the skies on cloud nine, and the rapid shift in my life’s progression has left me with the strangest time-elapsing whip lash. So much has happened that at times I feel I can’t comprehend the amount I’ve accomplished in this period and, oddly enough, I feel I haven’t finished this trend of quickly occurring positive changes yet.
Recently, while sitting in my comfy office chair, located inside the Bakersfield Californian building, I was offered to cover a quick feature story on one of my old high school teachers. After getting in touch with him via email, he responded to my inquiry and agreed to be interviewed by his former student. (more…)
“Tell me a little about yourself,” I asked the hitchhiker lying in the motel bed next to mine. I had met Cindy that morning and traveled with her for that entire day but I didn’t really know anything about her.
“I suppose I could give you that much since you haven’t kicked me out yet and that you’re actually driving me all the way to Oregon,” Cindy said. “I really didn’t know if you were going to go through with it.”
“I’m being coerced though.”
“You’re just really nosy and want to hear the rest of my story.” (more…)
Sarah waited patiently underneath Dr. Aislinn’s desk as he continued to work diligently well into the night. She made sure that she wouldn’t accidently bump his legs by cramming herself into the far left corner and kept her breaths slow and quiet. She would have to wait until after Dr. Aislinn left so that she can run home and make it back to her house before her husband woke up. If either person suspected she was not in fact sleeping next to her husband they would lock her away forever. (more…)
In recent times it seems as though more children are being diagnosed with autism and, according to data from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), this observation seems to be true. 1 in 88 American children are diagnosed as being on the spectrum, and out of those figures, boys are commonly associated four out of five times than their female counterparts. In the U.S. two million individuals are diagnosed and tens of millions fall within the spectrum worldwide. The 10 to 17 percent increase in rates however is suspected to be a result of research conducted and by improved diagnosis and awareness. (more…)
Subtle sounds of snoring slipped out from the body lying next to Sarah. It was now her chance to sneak out from the large wooden house in the woods and off to break into her psychiatrist’s office in town. It was a risky operation, but she was running out of time before someone caught on that she wasn’t taking the mysterious medication that was making her forget her past. She couldn’t mess up either tonight, because her husband and her psychiatrist were forcibly drugging her to forget something she couldn’t imagine what they would do to her if they found out she had started to remember. (more…)
The plan was incredibly simple. Slip outside the house while her husband was sleeping and sneak into Dr. Aislinn’s office in town to look for some answers to her past and possible help restore her memory completely. The problem, however, was her ability to actually pull this off without getting caught by the individuals who wanted her to forget something important. (more…)
Why is it important to give back to the community? There are some people that walk around aimlessly chasing material things. They find everything that they are looking for, nothing of what they need. We connect with each other when share what’s in our minds, spread what’s in our hearts, and give what’s rooted deep down in our souls. On some level we have this deep urge to help one another and find a common place within each one of us, and we can do this every day by giving back what was shared with us. (more…)
An attractive woman with short blonde hair wearing jeans and a white button up t-shirt that was two sizes too big sat before Sarah in a car.
“Ready?” The woman said to Sarah as she threw the old blue Chevy pickup truck into gear.
“Yes,” Sarah said.
The woman scrunched her tiny nose and let her bright sparkly blue eyes peek through behind her long lashes as she smiled at Sarah. “Okay, this is it then. There’s no turning back.” (more…)
You’ve brushed your teeth, put on your pj’s and now you’re safely tucked inside your bed. Good. Here are some short creepy stories for you to read before you close your eyes tonight. You’re welcome.