New Year's Eve and it's hard to believe
another zodiac has gone around.

While you drank yourself high on hoping
and watched the ceiling spin from the ground.

Counting down from ten it's time
to make your annual prayer.

Secret santa in the sky
when will I get my share?

Then you tell yourself
what you want to hear.

Cause you have to believe.

This will be my year.

This will be my year...Semisonic


Go Ahead Punk: E-Mail Little Squaw @ squawpunch@hotmail.com

AIM: gimletgurl7 (Remember when she used to be here?)

Tuesday, February 10, 2004

Apparently Andre wearing green all the time has something to do with ATL and aliens and green being a concept color to represent aliens.

I know. But I got the explanation on the way to a meeting so I am a little short on details. However, the person who told me is also the person who got mad when Fountains of Wayne didn't play my request because he says and I quote, "You're their number one fan and you should be the president of their fan club."

They don't have a fan club and I don't know if I'd want to be surrounded by a room full of people who like them as much as me.

Double overtime last night with SHU beating the #4 ranked Pitt (SHU isn't even ranked) and I can barely focus my eyes.

However, I've been in a couple of meetings today where I could see the sky and I have to tell you it feels like spring. And spring is my happiest time of year. It may be a false spring but it's a ray of hope for me.

I am usually a happy yet snarky girl. Right about now I'm an sad, tired and snarky girl.

But there's sun in the window and a song in my heart that pretty encapsulates what I'd feel like about life in general (and outside of work) if I had a moment to think...

It Might As Well Be Spring

(1945) Richard Rodgers, Oscar Hammerstein II
As sung by Nina Simone

The things I used to like, I don't like any more,
I want a lot of other things I've never had before,
It's just like my mamma says, I sit around and mourn
Pretending that I am so wonderful and knowing I'm adored

I'm as restless as a willow in a windstorm,
I'm as jumpy as a puppet on a string,
I'd say that I had spring fever,
But I know it isn't spring.

I'm as starry eyed and gravely discontented,
Like a nightingale without a song to sing.
Oh, why should I have spring fever,
When it isn't even spring?

I keep wishing I were somewhere else,
Walking down a strange new street,
Hearing words I have never never heard,
From a man I've yet to meet.

I'm as busy as a spider spinning daydreams,
I'm as giddy as a baby on a swing,
I haven't seen a crocus or a rosebud,
Or a robin or a bluebird on the wing,
But I feel so gay in a melancholy way,
That it might as well be spring,
It might as well be, might as well be,
It might as well be spring.


That said back to the grind and
posted by JustKeepMum on 2:19 PM