wine, reading, art, politics, anything live by Frank Sinatra, Turner Movie Classics and many more things I'll remember after I log off tonight. Here is a little post script: In general, putting into life what I expect out of it.
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Public Service Announcement
You Are a Conservative Chick
Like Elizabeth Hasselbeck and Ann Coulter, you're conservative and proud of it.
You speak your mind, even if everyone else around you disagrees.
As you see it, you have to stand up for traditional values and what's right.
Are You a Liberal Lady or a Conservative Chick?
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You Are 76% Republican
You have a good deal of elephant running through your blood, and you're proud to be conservative.
You don't fit every Republican stereotype, but you definitely belong in the Republican party.
How Republican Are You?
I'd like to meet:
I edited my profile at Freeweblayouts.net , check out these Myspace Layouts!
Frank Sinatra, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Degas and Monet if they were still alive. And I would love to meet Lenny Kravitz today :) UPDATE: I am now adding Charles Dickens and Edith Wharton to my list. Oh -- and I cannot forget to add Sylvia Plath . . . if only she didn't do it. Cary Grant . . . like a Chanel (anything) is timeless and could never go out of style.
I HEART DEE-TROIT BASKETBALL!!!
Music:
I think you may have picked up on my Sinatra affinity, Lenny Kravitz, Diana Krall, Billie Holliday (pretty profound and sad. . . the things we think, but never say out loud) , Chopin, Maroon 5, oh so many more . . . I have very ecclectic taste in music. BUCKCHERRY . . . love them. Beatles of course. Harry Connick, Jr. :) Just saw him in concert. Even better. Adding Jack Johnson . . . making Banana Pancakes of course.
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Movies:
What Classic Movie Are You?
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"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous." -*Ingrid Bergman
Television:
The final episode was a good one. Adios to my favorite Guilty Pleasure.
Not looking forward to the ending of the Sopranos, but I know they have to end it while it's good. Chris is dead now (saw that coming from a mile away) so it will be interesting to see who is next in line.
Books:
TOO MANY . . . but here are a few: The Great Gatsby, again: anything about the mafia or Sinatra, The Age of Innocence, Great Expectations (I should add all of these to the movies section), Poetry by Pablo Neruda, Sylvia Plath , Emerson and many more . . . not necessarily in this order. Life is about "Great Expectations" . . . what a great book. *Just read "Courtesan" about King Henri II and Diane de Poitiers and read my first Gabriel Garcia Marquez novel. I had no idea he wrote "Love in the Time of Cholera," the book in the movie "Serendipity." I need to read more of his work. I'm sure I could think of countless others.
"Pursuit"
By Sylvia Plath
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There is a panther stalks me down:
One day I'll have my death of him;
His greed has set the woods aflame,
He prowls more lordly than the sun.
Most soft, most suavely glides that step,
Advancing always at my back;
From gaunt hemlock, rooks croak havoc:
The hunt is on, and sprung the trap.
Flayed by thorns I trek the rocks,
Haggard through the hot white noon.
Along red network of his veins
What fires run, what craving wakes?Insatiate, he ransacks the land
Condemned by our ancestral fault,
Crying: blood, let blood be spilt;
Meat must glut his mouth's raw wound.
Keen the rending teeth and sweet
The singeing fury of his fur;
His kisses parch, each paw's a briar,
Doom consummates that appetite.
In the wake of this fierce cat,
Kindled like torches for his joy,
Charred and ravened women lie,
Become his starving body's bait.Now hills hatch menace, spawning shade;
Midnight cloaks the sultry grove;
The black marauder, hauled by love
On fluent haunches, keeps my speed.
Behind snarled thickets of my eyes
Lurks the lithe one; in dreams' ambush
Bright those claws that mar the flesh
And hungry, hungry, those taut thighs.
His ardor snares me, lights the trees,
And I run flaring in my skin;
What lull, what cool can lap me in
When burns and brands that yellow gaze?I hurl my heart to halt his pace,
To quench his thirst I squander blood;
He eats, and still his need seeks food,
Compels a total sacrifice.
His voice waylays me, spells a trance,
The gutted forest falls to ash;
Appalled by secret want, I rush
From such assault of radiance.
Entering the tower of my fears,
I shut my doors on that dark guilt,
I bolt the door, each door I bolt.
Blood quickens, gonging in my ears:The panther's tread is on the stairs,
Coming up and up the stairs.
