Music – Mandy Davis

You’ve probably heard the song “Pompeii” by Bastille. It was apparently a global hit back in 2013. But for whatever reason, it didn’t make it onto my radar until a couple of weeks ago. The first time I heard it, I thought, wow, what a great song. So upbeat. So catchy. Then, a couple of nights ago it came on, and my husband Tony, who likes learning everything about everything, asked if I knew what this song was written about. A breakup, obviously. Or depression. Something like that.

But actually, as Tony explained, it was written as a conversation between two people who were buried in the Pompeii volcano eruption.

And the walls kept tumbling down 
In the city that we love. 
Gray clouds roll over the hills 
Bringing darkness from above... 
How am I gonna be an optimist about this? 
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?

Here they are, their entire world being buried under layer after layer of molten rock, and they’re trying to figure out how to find the good in the situation–as if finding this good could somehow fix the unfixable.

Continue reading “Being an Optimist”

I’m never prepared for January. After coasting through the holidays, sugarcoated and filled with the warmth of familiar movies, game nights, and a twinkle-light-covered world, I blink my eyes and January’s suddenly upon me full of all this newness and possibility. I’ve heard that some people actually find this time of year exciting. And sometimes, I follow them onto the resolution-making, goal-setting, this-is-gonna-be-the-year-that-I-finally-____________ bandwagon. But I don’t usually stay there long. January is too cold and too dark and too sad a month to be moving forward so quickly. So, I end up back on the couch wrapped in a quilt (or two) and petting a cat (or two).

January isn’t an inherently sad month for most people. But for me, the middle of January holds the memories of a death and a life I once shared. His name was Ed, and over the course of his time on earth, he was many things. A computer programmer. A gamer. A stargazer. A martial artist. A son. A brother. A dear, dear friend. And for a time, he was my husband.

Continue reading “What I Do with It All”