As, I’ve said before, I love poet Lang Leav. This might be my favorite. It is where I am.

Happy Easter from 1979!

That would be my favorite title of the Counting Crows’ albums. It’s fitting for tonight (Saturday night) and tomorrow (Sunday morning). I don’t have anything pressing to write about tonight, so let’s have a listening session.

Saturday Nights and Sunday Mornings is a double album. The first side is a little faster, the second, a little slower. Pretty fitting. I’m not a fan of the lead-off song “1492,” but the next few songs are good ones.

“When I Dream of Michelangelo” borrows a line from an earlier song, “Angels of the Silences” — “I dream of Michelangelo when I’m lying in my bed.”I always liked that line, so I thought it was cool that they used it again.

I hope one or two of you out there liked the listening party. I did.

I’m working on another post I couldn’t get finished tonight, so here’s a song I love and is on my iPod, but isn’t on a playlist. It popped up the other day while I was driving and didn’t select a playlist. On comes Simply Red. Mick Hucknall. 80s and 90s blue-eyed soul from the UK. Hucknall was this pale redhead singing in this kind of familiar yet new way. Something old and soulful and something new and wonderful. Simply Red was one of the first bands to make me feel something. I could go on, but it’s after midnight. Here’s the first Simply Red song I ever heard, “Holding Back the Years.” Enjoy.

I wonder if other writers mourn the words the can’t write.

The stories they can’t tell.

The poem.

The musings on coffee shop napkins.

From The Decemberists, “The Engine Driver,”

“And I am a writer, writer of fictions

I am the heart that you call home

And I’ve written pages upon pages

Trying to rid you from my bones

I am a writer, I am all that you have home

Home

And I’ve written pages upon pages

Trying to rid you from my bones

My bones”

There are dozens of songs that feel as if they have borrowed pieces of my life or mind. Some are quite special. Some are little pieces of memories like “Confetti” by The Lemonheads or “Here Comes the Sun” or “Holding Back the Years.”

But “Still Fighting It” is very different. The song is written for Ben Folds’ son and Ben says “you’re so much like me. I’m sorry.”

Those word are tough. I think most songwriters strive to write songs from their hearts and are honest in their own way. I don’t think most songwriters accomplish that. There are many songwriters in the past few years who are good. They strip it down and write. But Fold is writing to his son. Directly. And because he is so honest, it comes across as a beautiful letter to his child. We all have traits we wouldn’t want to pass down to our kids and I won’t pretend to know what Folds was writing about specifically. But I know what that is to me.

One of my children is so much like me. When I listen to the song I’m brought to tears because of that. Half of the way my child is like me is wonderful and so much better than me. The other half is what I wouldn’t wish on anyone. And Lord, not my kid. Not anyone I know. It’s not my exact brand, but it is hard. And I hate that this child is so much like me. And I know in my mind that it’s not my fault and I couldn’t have predicted it, but each and every time I see my kid struggle, I want to say “I’m sorry.”

We were in the car, just the two of us the other day and because I know my kiddo doesn’t always want to talk about how they feel, I asked if I could play a song. “Sure.” I played “We’re Still Fighting It” and I sang along, my voice cracking and fighting back getting choked up too much and when it was over, my wonderful, brave, amazing kid said “I liked that song, Mom.” It was that kind of moment that is rare. My kid knew. I didn’t have to say anything. And don’t get me wrong, we’ve talked about my mental illness and what my child deals with many times, but this was different. I’m always fighting it and I’ve accepted that I will for the rest of my life. That’s not something I want for any of my kids and it kills me that one of them will be fighting it. But those other wonderful qualities hopefully outweigh the dreaded ones.

So, this post is for all of us who are still fighting it — whatever your “it” is. You are not alone. XO

It started misting tonight at the baseball fields and Houston has a 90% chance of rain tomorrow. I’m getting ready for a “Like the Weather” day. That’s a day when your head doesn’t feel like leaving the pillow and the color of the sky as far as you can see is coal gray. A 10,000 Maniacs kind of day.

This is an illustration by Veronica Dearly. I am right there. Right in the middle of “starts job hunting.” How does one convince a company one can write when one hasn’t had a writing job in over 17 years? Sure, there’s the seven years of writing and editing as volunteerism. And the blog. This one. Right here. Over 14 years of this.

This.

And that.

And some of that stuff.

And a smidge of that other stuff.

Once again I’m up late. Too much coffee. You see, I only drink iced tea and coffee. Today I’ve head two glasses of iced tea and one cup of hot coffee, one venti sized iced mocha from Starbucks, and another huge iced coffee. Don’t comment that I’m consuming too much caffeine. I know you’re well meaning. I heart you, too. But I’m not giving up my beverages.

I’m up late, but I take a mood stabilizer thanks to my brand of crazy, and I’ll be able to sleep (and sleep well) when I decide to go to bed. I’ve been texting a friend and binge watching The Good Wife (how did I not know this show was so fantastic?) and I’m not ready to go to bed.

Most nights I’m up after everyone in my house have gone to bed. I need the “me” time. I need the mental downtime. Tonight I’ve also listened to a bunch of Squeeze. Squeeze was and is a British post-punk/new wave that you know for the amazing song “Tempted,” but listen to a few more of their songs. Tonight it’s “Black Coffee in Bed.” This is the best live version the song and check out the fantastic polka-dot guitar of Glenn Tilbrook’s.

I’m going to bed after a few more songs and another episode. Goodnight, y’all.

I came to the end of the night and forgot to write. I hadn’t planned anything, which is a little off. It was a good day, so I don’t have a reason for not being prepared. So, here’s “Something’s Missing,” a rock and roll tune by The Lemonheads in a video set to the dancing of the Peanuts gang, because that makes sense. Also, that’s me at 11:30 pm without makeup. Quite a sight.