Musing Interruptus

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Mea Culpa. I was wrong. I was wrong. I was dead wrong. This has happened to me more times than I care to confess. Then again, I am ready to say I was wrong to always want to be Ms. Right. I bet you know where I’m going with this one. Today, Fail Well. And Oh, how I’ve failed.

This is one is going to be more self-deprecating than usual. Let’s put a pin in that for a sec. Failing hard and fast should be taught the same way we are taught to fall off our bikes. I wonder if our reflexes aren’t playing a bigger part in saving ourselves from tumbling. Well, I looked it up and it is called the upper limb falling reflex, which according to Giddens 2021 is the rapid dynamic response leading to the fingers impacting the ground first on falling. Ok, so we don’t actually have to learn how to fall. We improve other aspects regarding our technique when falling. Seems like genetics gets to play another cruel joke on us. Ha- ha! If you have slow reflexes, do your best not to fall, or drive, or walk, or swallow saliva while breathing.  I have been known to swallow incorrectly, on occasion. And that can be very uncomfortable and embarrassing if I am in a social situation. I have to make a thumbs-up sign to let everyone know that I’m not really choking. No, no, I’m just red in the face, and having a hard time breathing, but I know I’m going to be ok. Just relax while I get through this very embarrassing and seemingly life-threatening moment. Thumbs up. See?

This has happened to me when I’m really interested in looking cool. I was specially invited to the U2 concert in Mexico City in 2006. It was for my birthday. The ticket was special because I was upfront. Standing room only for die-hard fans. I had to arrive at 6:30 am. I’m not sure why, but I was not the only one there. The wait was long, in the sun, with very little water (which was good because I hate using public restrooms, especially porta potties. Anyway, someone bought pizza, I had a piece, made conversation, and wouldn’t you know it, I choked on my own saliva in front of strangers who weren’t sure if they should Heimlich the spittle out of me or play it cool.  That was embarrassing, not a failure. I’ve digressed. Failing is the matter at hand. 

The need to fail is real, it allows us to improve naturally. If we are paying attention. If we aren’t, we are doomed to make the same mistake over and over again. 

Make a mistake, learn. Go belly up, learn. Fuck up. Learn. When you are learning something new, this can be particularly frustrating. I’ve taken locution classes. I just finished my first course. It seems now I am worse than when I started. It is out of control. Punk voice, that is what it is. This is not by any means a reflection on the instructors. It just means I have to learn how to apply what I’ve learned without making a mistake. That will take time, failure, and dedication. I’ll hone the hell outta this or my name isn’t Jack’s Medulla Oblongata. 

The most talented and successful people have made failure a part of their paradigm. Education and failure. Learn from those who have traveled the path before you. Fail until you learn how not to. Until you get it right and then improve. I think about it in terms of flight hours. 

We fail in many ways and oh how many ways there are to learn if we are up to the challenge. In each failure, we have the opportunity to be better. Continue reading

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. When getting to know someone, we might ask questions about their occupation or occupations. Often, people have diverse sources of income. We don’t do just one thing. I think we are bound to do more because we need the income and mental stimulation. Mostly the income. It is a privilege to make a living doing things you enjoy. It has taken me a while, but I can say that I love what I do. When I don’t love it, I at least really like it or barely dislike it. I think that is pretty good. I can remember several times when I intensely disliked what I was doing most of the time and only enjoyed a few of the activities I was hired to do. This is either progress or proof I have lost my soul to the machine.

Either way, I feel happy about it, and that is the bottom line, for now. Back to getting to know someone. When you ask someone about their occupation or occupations, you might say: What do you do? Or What do you do for a living? 

When I ask, I can’t help thinking that this is a question banks ask. They pretend to care where your money comes from. If they do care, it is not for the reasons we imagine. I suppose, when we ask people about their occupations, we are not as interested in what they make as we are in how they decide to spend their time to make a living. What you do for a living says a lot about your life decisions, the opportunities you’ve had or made for yourself, what occupies your mind, day in and day out, and how you explain and experience the world. 

For instance, a doctor might be someone who is motivated to heal, and who organizes reality in terms of symptoms, ailments, cures, timelines, side effects, and palliatives. 

A firefighter might be drawn to fire and also the use of water and other chemicals to quell and extinguish the flames. Fire hazards, emergency exists, extinguishers, and tipping the balance of life and death, towards life. Have I told you have I have a firefighter friend? He’s strong and knows how to drive a rig. He told me he was motivated to serve and protect. The wild child who tamed fire or at least did his best to save people from the flames. You have my deepest admiration.

A police officer could be guided by a desire to establish order and protect. Their environment is explored in terms of laws, limits, the need for a siren, and good against bad. There is also the good cop turned bad. They tend to be a scary breed. We hope there are more good cops than bad cops. The good ones do good things to keep us safe. 

A teacher might be driven by the desire to educate, which at its core is a matter of stimulating the intellect. I think that one is great. To understand the world and try to explain it through the different lenses supplied by great thinkers, scientists, and philosophers, opening up possibilities and worlds, opening doors through which humans walk. Those who cross the threshold may themselves create new doors, windows, and planes of reality. Teachers facilitate those processes. What thing to be surprised and learn from different types of intelligences and discover how each student learns. It becomes a matter of strategies and creativity. 

A writer, a dancer, a sketcher, a designer, a painter, a photographer, or a cinematographer might be into storytelling via the mediums of their choosing. You’ve gotta love a storyteller. What motivates them to present the ins and outs of reality and fiction? Could it be they desire to understand and escape to other worlds? Continue reading

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. There are questions that can knock me off my rocker, literally, not just figuratively speaking. My parents are quite a subject for me. If they aren’t for you, you need to try a little harder. That is all I can say about that. Thank you for listening. 

I’m kidding! I kid! I’m a kidder! After the brief hiatus from questions when getting to know someone, I think we could pick up with this one. Who’s your daddy? That question can go many ways.

When meeting someone for the first time, you might consider asking about their family. In small towns, where everyone knows each other, people might ask this to help them place you on their mental map. It might be strange to ask someone, whose your daddy? But why the hell not?

If someone asks you, you might speak of the man who did it with your mom until you happened. You might refer to the man who took care of you, he didn’t necessarily do anything with your mother. There are men who come into your life and take care of you, sometimes sporadically, sometimes for the long haul. There are different types of daddies. The strict, emotionally closed-off fathers, that people talk long and hard of on the divan. I bet all fathers get talked about in therapy.  People pay good money to figure out that relationship. There are fathers that throw money at everything. They have internalized the provider role. They do everything in their power for you to not want for anything, except their attention because they work all the time. There is the Sunday daddy, the one you get once your parents divorce. The full-time daddy. He gets movies made about him. Especially if he crossdresses and impersonates an older woman. The overbearing, over-protecting daddy. They make for the most rebellious children. The maternal father, the overlely paternal father. The funny father. The gone out for cigarettes father. The box father (meaning, they died when you were a child). The donor father, wam bam thank you, mam. The father of the bride, the world’s best farter, the world’s worst father, and everything in between. 

Whoever your father was or wasn’t, he is part of what makes you. Literally, the stuff you are made of is part father, part mother. I think some of us would like to think we are self-made, spontaneously generated. In light of the processes required in baby-making. I have a hard time wrapping my head around my parents congregating amourously to spawn me. That whole horizontal lambada hokey pokey business between my parents is a place I don’t like my imagination going. A visit from the stork, on the other hand, is rather nice. I imagine my parents were surprised by the stork. Like, OMG, a baby, brought by this funny-looking bird! Would you look at that!? Lets parent! However, it was the 80s and there are pictures of how I escaped my mother’s body. There is no doubt where I come from. It is seared in my mind. SEARED. This brings me back to the types of father. The father who takes all the photos, even when you are at Disney World Crying. That is a true story. 

Who’s your daddy? That is a loaded question, isn’t it? Answering it can be a delicate operation. You need to be delicate, it affects your psyche. It is a question that deserves time and attention because whatever he was or wasn’t, made a part of you. Then there is the mess that has to do with expectations. So many kinds of daddies. So many expectations of what could’ve or should’ve been, what was, and what is. The questions we pay good money to unravel. Continue reading

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Nobody wants to hear it is our fault. That is actually the last thing I want to hear. Ever. I want to be right all the time. Ms. Right. I don’t even want to be anywhere close to wrong. However! And there always is a, however, isn’t there. We need to be open and listening. Keep those antennae up and monitoring. We owe it to our future selves to make good decisions today. Physical and emotional health do not happen overnight. Sometimes not even in a decade. It all starts with a It’s not them, it's you. 

When we tune in to what is going on around us we can get a clue about other people and what they are going through. Zoning out can be very useful and protective. There is some good in that, too. Paying too much attention to what is happening out there might lead you to forget about yourself. Then what? Are you just living for other people’s pleasure? If you are, then you should get paid for that. There are people you can pay for protection so you can carry out your business. 

Sometimes people can be mean, inconsiderate, selfish, and take a lot from you. And you might have given them all of that because you had that to give. What is not so great is when there is a lack of reciprocity. Call it a red light, a red flag, or whatever cute way you want to identify the alert that goes off when you realize you are in a one-sided relationship.

I guess sometimes we just need something so badly, we give it our all, because in our heart of hearts (remember that idiomatic expression?)... because in our heart of hearts we might feel that if we give enough, the other person will give us what we need back. If it starts out that way, I don’t know that you will ever get what you are hoping for. On the other hand, I am reminded of what a friend told me many moons ago, “Just because I don’t love you the way you would like me to love you, doesn’t mean I don’t.” I hated him for saying it. I hated he didn’t love me the way I needed to be loved. But that is different from not being loved at all. 

I’d like to know if you have a case in which things went your way after single-handedly keeping the relationship afloat. I have other mental images in mind when you are giving a relationship CPR or it is on life support and the other person just stands back to watch you. I get that sometimes you need to go down with the ship. The Dido song, “White Flag”,  which I hate, is a good example of just that. I’m going to tell you why I hate that song. It is melodious and the singer's voice is privileged. My beef is with the lack of self-respect and self-love that I infer. Going down with the ship implies a very romantic notion, going all the way, so to speak. In this case, letting yourself drown, by your own volition, in a watery grave. Just remember, ships have safety rafts, you can both escape the sinking relationship. The Titanic sank and so can your ship. Was it because you didn’t see the iceberg, were you drinking beer and dancing with someone other than your partner down below? Did the other person try to force you to wear a corset and a very heavy diamond? I mean, whatever reason, the ship is sinking, if you are the only one trying to cast the flooding waters overboard, then consider getting yourself to safety. Continue reading

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Do you remember rock n’roll radio? You know who does? Sofía Coppola. I love Sofia Coppola, today more than yesterday, and I will make this public declaration of love because she has told us another story in her brilliant and talented way. It is a story behind the music that seems to illustrate the headlines of a very famous and public marriage, based on Priscilla Prestly’s memoir. 

There is a darkness and depravity that both anchor the spectator and looms over the story in Pricilla. The light comes in initially through the music. Sofia, Sofia, Sofia, you had me at the opening scene, once more. The shot of a young teenager’s feet with painted toenails walking in a shaggy carpet. However, my brain was set ablaze when I heard the opening chords and glorious strings of Baby, I Love You, and Joey Ramone’s adoring voice. It’s the Wall of sound baby, and Sofia Coppola’s directing. My uneducated eye catches very few elements used by this director, nonetheless, I’m going to share what I saw and heard with you and I’d love to know what you think. 

I’d like to start with the song if you don’t mind. She uses music to communicate. Anachronism is part of her charm and storytelling. She could have used the original Ronette’s 1963 version, of Baby, I love you,  but she doesn’t. She uses the Ramones, which by the way has a backstory of its own that sets the tone, preparing you for a look into a private, albeit curated and protected, side of Priscilla’s story. When remembering a life, there are facts, what is remembered, and then what Sofia brings to the silver screen. And she is a magnificent storyteller. As soon as I hear the opening chords of Ramone’s version of Baby, I Love You, I was transported to the story of Phil Spector holding the Ramones at gunpoint so they would listen to him play Baby, I love you, over and over and over again. I also remember the way he held his wife hostage. There are parallels and similarities. Perhaps it is part of the fabric the music industry is made of. That is in another Musing Interruptus, but you see, the game is there, Sofia is preparing us for a story of publicly sugar-coated violence. The 1980 version of the song fits this story perfectly. It reminds us of the things we put up with in favor of love, stars, talent, and in some cases, genius. Let’s not forget all abuse finds a limit.

This is a story of grooming, like so many before. But this story gets our attention and a special soundtrack because Priscilla was married to the King. The typical elements are there: genius, glamorization, obsessiveness, violence, and people who don’t know any better until they do. 

Regardless of what was tolerated or even aspired to at the end of the 50s and 60s, the facts remain. A 10-year age gap between a 14-year-old and a 24-year-old leaves a lot of room for grooming, repression, violence, and general abuse. No matter what school you pay for or how many dresses you pick out and cars you buy. A relationship of control and subjugation is just that. 

What do you get when you have teenage hormones, aspirations ingrained and transmitted from every corner of the culture (for instance, marry well, marry a prince… marry a king? What is there to think about?) and of course, the element of a person made a living myth? Priscilla could hardly say no. Her parents surely didn’t. 

Then there is the matter of rejection. I don’t know if I would have been able, at 17, to withstand a sexless relationship with all those hormones and expectations. Continue Reading

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Does our place of origin determine our destiny? What about our mother tongue? Or is it only the mother? Tricky tricky questions I need help answering! Today on Musing Interruptus, Where are you from?

If you are from Never Never Land, we already know you are not going to grow up, ever. Lala Land is a great place to visit but not stay. You probably won’t find anybody who was born in Lala Land. We all know how to get there, short or long stays. Narnia, well that is a whole other place and state. If they are from there, you might take a chance and ask them where their closet is. Remember, don’t assume, always ask. I have been told I am a Hispanic, meaning… I am from Hispania, which is in the vicinity of Narnia. However, I am not. Never assume where someone is from. Always ask. 

If you are from Middle Earth, you might be a human, but you also might be a hobbit, a dwarf, or an Ent. It is good to ask the person you are talking to, where they are from. You don’t want to be caught off guard in case they are ready to enlist you on a journey or even an adventure you thought was only possible in books. Be ready and always ask. It is very rude to ask people if they are from a certain place right off the bat. That is because you might be checking off stereotypical traits. We wouldn’t like to do that, would we? If you do, people might assume you are from the Sticks. I think the more you learn the less you tend to generalize. That doesn’t mean there aren’t general truths we can rely on. When it comes to identity, it is best to ask.

Ask people where they are from and you might get to hear about where they have been, the things they have seen, and what they have done. Where you are from can open a door to the past and to the future. Let’s keep this in mind, the place we are from does not provide us with an all-encompassing certainty of the future, just a component.  

When you are going to meet someone for the first time, you might consider packing a special contingency bag, just in case. A bit of Lembas Bread, a cloak of invisibility, a few happy thoughts, an ace up your sleeve, and ruby slippers to get back home. Always have a plan for getting home safely. You should keep your cellphone charged too. Oh! And Running shoes… those ruby slippers might not allow you to outrun an ork or a grown-up whose hand was lost to a crocodile and has a hook in its place. I mean expect the best and prepare for the worst. That is all anyone can do when meeting someone new and asking them where they are from. 

Thank you for listening. 

What do you pack when meeting someone for the first time? What do you like to take on a first date? What places have you wanted to visit after meeting someone? Will you invite me into your closet? I’m listening Read

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Yesterday, which was last week when I wrote this, I participated in one of those conversations about what age reveals about your inexperience or seniority. There are cases in which it reveals neither. Age doesn’t always bring a steady voice or certainty. Age does, however, bring experience. What you do with it is entirely up to you, your intelligence and ingenuity. 

When getting to know someone we ask questions. The more interesting the question, the more interesting the answer, and also, the more special you make your interlocutor feel. Because really, getting to know someone is a gift in itself. So, I propose asking:  What have you done with your experience? It might be a more interesting question than how old are you? Another question might be: What have you learned? What has been the hardest lesson to learn? What lesson haven’t you learned? 

These questions seem to be awfully personal, yet they make for some very interesting conversation. It is also an opportunity to share the wealth of knowledge. I find that people are all too protective when it comes to socializing information that may be key to avoiding someone else injury, a mistake, or ending up with egg on your face (not literally, remember, there are many idiomatic expressions in this podcast). The questions, what have you learned? can also be embarrassing to answer if you express you haven’t made any headway on certain issues, ever. Imagine that conversation; 

— Hello, what’s your name? 

Ralph

— Ah, what an interesting name. What does it mean?

They answer something mystical and related to power. Ralph would say, wolf-counsel. 

Then you might ask, what lessons have you had a very difficult time learning? 

If they play along, they might say that they have abandonment issues and haven’t gotten over the trauma of being picked last on the playground. Two very common issues. This is a reason you might not see me raising my hand to play any type of sports. Especially sports were balls are likely to be thrown in the general direction of my head. No baseball, soccer, football, volleyball, basketball, much less dodge ball, for me. No thank you. I won’t even sit on the sidelines for fear of getting a ball to the nose. 

That should be the general name of sports, nose ball, if you catch the ball, hit it with any other part of the body, you win the game. If you get it in the nose, you get a special prize and nobody says anything if you cry. OK!? That’s what it should be called, nose ball. I hated group sports that involved balls when I was growing up. My nose used to be very cute. After all the noseballs, I have a pug nose. That is where pugs come from, playing with balls. 

Well, evidently that question just won’t fly. You can see why a conversation with a question like, what lesson haven’t you learned yet could be embarrassing. Better save that for a conversation down the line. Stick to — what’s your favorite sport and avoid asking questions about ball trauma to the nose. A good rule of thumb is to not be intrusive while still expressing interest. In that light, how old are you just might be a great question.

Perhaps an even better question is what is your favorite number? That won’t get you into much trouble, unless the answer is risqué, like 010, or just a 1, imagine if the answer is 7/11, 69, 666, or even better 4 plus 10 times 2. You might get into a little trouble but you might also have a lot of fun. That will depend on what you ask next. So be prepared with your follow up questions.

Continue reading

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. Each person is a mystery awaiting to be discovered. I think we all want to be discovered. Not necessarily by everyone, even though social media would have us think that. Social media networks seem like a cry for just that. Getting views and likes and even getting paid for it as a means of redemption for what couldn’t be obtained any other way. I could be wrong. There are a lot of people that make a very decent living by becoming influencers and having Only Fans accounts. Call me old fashioned, but I still love discovering people a question at a time. Today, What’s Your Name?

Getting to know someone is one of the loveliest experiences. I was going to say human experiences, but it happens all over the place. I get to tell you about it as a human. Which makes me think about what a dog would have to say about it. This is how I imagine the interaction between my dog and a neighborhood dog. 

Oh, I smell another me, let’s see… ahh the tail is up and wagging, let me see mine… yes… I’m wagging my tail too, I’ll come closer. Sniff Sniff your nose.. Yes, I believe I'm ready to sniff your butt. Oh, yeah, ok, we can do it at the same time. Cousin Ralph!!! So good to meet you!!! I’m cousin Penny!! I see you had a good breakfast, I’ll let you continue on your way to get your business done, I myself have just started my walk and will look for the worst possible place to relieve myself. Good-bye cousin Ralph. 

If we were dogs, if we had those noses and that sense of smell. I believe relationships would be much easier. Dogs immediately know where they stand with the other. Friend or foe. But we aren’t, and we don’t. We communicate with words. With our hands, our voices, our faces. Smelling butts is optional and rarely in the first 5 minutes of getting to know someone. We have other signs and ways to communicate we are interested in getting to know each other. Knowing if they are friend or foe comes later, sometimes too late. But that is another Musing Interruptus. Today,  I can tell you the experience as a person who uses eyesight. I also imagine that when we rely on other senses, this process might differ, at least in the beginning. For instance, if we use our eyesight, we make eye contact, we approach each other, we say hello, hi, hey and we might introduce ourselves by using the phrase: my name is, in my case Renée. I would then ask: What’s your name? That would elicit an answer. The other person might say their name, if they are interested, or simply overt their eyes, thus closing any further communication. At least for the time being. What’s your name is a great question. If people had imaginary doors, that question might be the doorbell or knocker, to their home.  Continue reading

Hello, I’m Renée Valentina and this in Musing Interruptus. A new year has begun and Musing Interruptus will not miss the chance to say something about it. Today, I hope to get off on the right foot.

A New Year feels like a new chance to get things done. The first of January doesn’t count. We all know that. The year actually begins on January 2nd, 3rdish… I mean, if we are serious about this, we need to be realistic. The third falls on a Wednesday. That’s hump day. It is not happening on the fourth! That is not the right number to begin my most amazing transformation. And lets face it, Friday makes as much sense as Saturday or Sunday to begin. So, I’m going to shoot for Monday the 8th. Seems fitting since this is Year 8, numerologically speaking. Monday January the 8th. Ok, so now that we have set the date, let's make a list of the things that need to get done in order for this to be a transformative and productive year. Get in shape, eat well, meditate and be mindful, start a new business, travel and see my friends, make new friends, read 52 books, go to the movies at least 3 times this year, write a novel, make breakthrough in therapy, and make time to procrastinate and travel, did I say that already?

So, I guess I just have to do it. This is how I envision the morning of transformation:

Wait. Breath. That’s not how it works. We don’t have to execute everything perfectly, everyday, the first time around, as if we were doing it our whole life. Let’s break it down. The first step is knowing what it takes to get into the right mindset. Maybe just wanting it enough. Accepting that we might get more done if we set achievable goals- bite size goals towards a more lofty objective. We can build toward what we want, every single day. It is the work we put into it that will give meaning to the struggle. Truth is, I’ve been at since 2016, since 2012,1998, and frankly, 1983. So, in reality, first step is to let yourself feel what you really want, in your heart of hearts. Then, break down the process into small achievable steps. Hold yourself to it, be brave, push and make it happen, everyday. Continue Reading

Musing Interruptus is a podcast meant for sharing thoughts and stories and enjoying idiomatic phrases and words in general. You can read along; the transcription is in the description of this episode. The idiomatic expressions are in italics. Try to get the meaning from the context and then look them up to see if you were right. If you like it, share it, but more importantly, continue the conversation. 

Hello. Welcome, I’m Renée Valentina and this is Musing Interruptus. That was quite a year. Hellish at times. Frankly, I feel quite beaten up, and I know I am not the only one. I also know that there are hardships that don’t care if the year is over, they will continue day by day until they are good and ready to end. I’d like to know if there are any rituals that can ensure the year to come will be better, or at least not worse. I’ve eaten the grapes, run around with a broom, and made my own rituals. None seem to really work. They are fun to do. Being realistic, feet on the ground, and such. Very uncharacteristic of Musing Interruptus, I wish, at this time, to raise my glass to you, to me, to all we’ve been through. 

Making it through one more year, making good things happen, dealing with the difficult things. We need a toast. We deserve a toast. Whether you toast with sparkling white wine, champagne or apple cider, a cup of coffee, an aromatic tea, your mate, or simply a nod, let’s mark the end of the year. Having a chance to toast implies we have a moment of peace. Those are the moments I wish I could make last longer. It’s the end of the year. It is time to say goodbye to 2023. I think today I’ll order One For The Road. 

One for the road and one for my baby. One for my dogs, and my family, and my friends. Hey, for my neighbors too. One for my friends listening to Musing Interruptus!!! 

Bartender, pour that to the brim, don’t worry if it overflows, I’m not judging. Friends, let’s wet our lips, relax, and breathe in the much-needed relief that this moment is affording us. Let’s make a memory today.

There are a few memories I’d like to take with me to my next life. There are a lot, actually. I’d like to package the laughter, love, kisses, more love, more laughter, the feelings of accomplishment, mine and others, the feeling when I am in the presence of art, being in the presence of love. I’d like to package it so I dose it, put it under my tongue. I’d play a song timed perfectly to feel the explosion of all those wonderful feelings life has to offer at the moment the music takes off. I’d like to ask for one for the road. If that were possible, I’d ask for a doggy bag to tie me over until my next life. I’d like to take some people to my next life too. 

I’d also like to experience life in a song. You might be wondering if I got high to write this. I assure you, I am not. There are, however, guitars, voices, basses, and drums that make me wish I could travel on those waves of audio, on a sub-particle level. The closest I can get is to listen. A listener, an intense listener. I do listen intensely. To music and words. I remember things I wish I didn’t. They can stay in this life. I’ll just take my music with me. I’m not too sure where I’m going. I guess none of us does. Come January 1st, 2024, Year 8 will begin. For those paying attention to numerology. This is the year we must make things happen.  I’m not thinking about that right now. I am thinking of the end of this year. This year which I truly want to be over. There are things I did, and things I didn’t get done. Whatever. What matters is that we are doing this. 

Bartender, one more for the road, and play it again Sam (even though that phrase is never said in Casablanca). Continue reading