A song for a friend.

Answer to yesterday’s very arcane question: The title was ripped out of a spoken section of “Hot Rod Lincoln”, by Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen. A secret vice of mine, Commander Cody.

I sent this song to a friend some weeks (months?) back. I think she could use it again, though.

BY WAY OF SORROW

. . . Julie Miller

You’ve been taken by the wind

You have known the kiss of sorrow

Doors that would not take you in

Outcast and a stranger

You have come by way of sorrow

You have come by way of tears

But you’ll reach your destiny

Meant to find you all these years

Meant to find you all these years

You have drunk a bitter wine

With none to be your comfort

You who once were left behind

Will be welcome at love’s table

CHORUS

All the nights that joy has slept

Will awake to days of laughter

Gone the tears that you have wept

You’ll dance in freedom ever after

You have come by way of sorrow

You have come by way of tears

But you’ll reach your destiny

Meant to find you all these years

Meant to find you all these . . .

©1997 Martha Road Music

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I left the old apartment for the final time last night. A lot happened while I was living there, and the last walk through the door was surprisingly bittersweet. I’m leaving nothing behind but memories, and you can’t leave memories behind, so I’m not sure why I was overcome with that last sudden fit of wistfulness. The apartment is nearly sterile looking, devoid of even the smallest signs that I spent two years of my life there except for the anonymous holes in the walls from the picture nails and the scar in the carpet the Socialist’s cat left by the bedroom door from her many attempts to dig her way into the bedroom at night. Something inside me says it isn’t right that there’d be nothing left there to show my passage, but then I guess most of life is like that.

I arrived home to the new apartment after nine last night, because I had to stop at my sisters’ houses to reclaim the apartment keys I’d given them. CompuSis fed me a diet soda and regaled me with tales of woe from her work place. I did find out that she can get me a new Dell computer at a 10% discount. While I’m not quite ready for that yet, I’ll tuck that away for future reference. FloralSis gave me yet another grand tour of her garden – this was the kid who refused to do any weeding when we were young and always left me stuck with weeding the vegetable garden for Mom when we were kids. Of course, I still had to warn her not to pull the poison ivy plant out with her bare hands (she didn’t recognize it!), but she has quite elaborate gardens this year, with flowers I don’t even recognize in them. She wasn’t even wearing gardening gloves when I got there and she was puttering around with the plants … she’ll ruin that perfect manicure of hers if she keeps that up!

I got the kitchen somewhat organized last night before I collapsed from exhaustion. I had been planning to grab my two pieces of left-over pizza from Sunday and heat them up for dinner, but apparently the Socialist beat me to them. I ate cold left-over Chinese sweet-and-sour chicken straight from the fridge instead. It was pretty garish, but I wasn’t in the mood to wash a bunch of pots after reheating it, and the alternative was to go hungry.

I’m surprised how small our new ‘fridge is … it looked larger than our old one, but it doesn’t fit nearly as much food in the refrigerator section, though the freezer is larger. There are more kitchen cabinets than at the old place, but the taller bottles (vegetable oil, vinegar, Worcestershire sauce) are all about an inch too tall to fit in them. Most aggravating. I can see me taking a ruler to the grocery store to measure things before I purchase them to make sure I can put them away. Even worse, I picture this future conversation with the grocery store manger:

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Me: This ketchup is in a twelve inch bottle. My shelves only have an eleven inch clearance. Is there any chance you can order this in a ten inch model?

Manager: Will someone please get this madwoman out of my office.

Me: No! Wait! I haven’t had a chance to ask you about cereal yet. I can’t stand the boxes up because they don’t fit on the shelves, but if I turn them on their sides the doors to the cabinets won’t shut. Are there alternate box sizes available?

Manager: Security to the Manager’s office, please! Will all available security personel please report to the Manager’s office for a code 17 immediately!

Me: (as I’m being dragged out by the shoulders, my heels leaving skid marks in the carpet) What about spaghetti? Do you guys carry any short spaghetti …?

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No, I think I’ll just try to find some way to accomodate the oversized items on my own, I guess.