Mix Tape Friday: Misery Masala

So last week’s mix tape was all about sex and candy, flowers and fluttering hearts. But not everyone got to celebrate and swoon last Thursday — and thus today’s mix tape is for you. I’ve simmered up a masala of misery — chunky bites of unrequited love and heartbreak, with a dash of bitterness and a sweet hint of hope. I didn’t get too spicy with the hopelessness and despair because I believe there’s always another great dish waiting to be served.

I’m getting excited about the new season of Top Chef!

It ain’t all love and happiness every day, kids. And there’s nothing better than a sad, sad song to help us fully enjoy that funk. Sometimes you just need to feel sorry for your lonely ol’ self.

Al Green :: Tired of Being Alone

The Young Rascals :: (I've Been) Lonely too Long

The Cardigans :: Lovefool

Otis Redding :: Mr. Pitiful

Liz Phair :: Extraordinary

Matthew Sweet :: Girlfriend

Wings :: Arrow Through Me

Billy Bragg :: Wish You Were Her

The Carpenters :: Superstar

Elvis Costello :: I Want You

Buzzcocks :: Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn’t Have?)

Joy Division :: Love Will Tear Us Apart

Harold Melvin & The Bluenotes :: The Love I Lost (Part 1)

Derek & The Dominoes :: Layla

Ivan Neville :: Why Can’t I Fall in Love?

Alanis Morissette :: Uninvited

Jeff Buckley :: Last Goodbye

The Replacements :: Unsatisfied

Res :: Let Love

eels :: Jeannie’s Diary

Lyle Lovett :: If I Were the Man You Wanted

Gladys Knight & The Pips :: If I Were Your Woman

Cake :: Sad Songs and Waltzes

Damien Rice :: When Doves Cry

Michael Stipe :: Last Day of Our Acquaintance

The Rolling Stones :: Almost Hear You Sigh

Amy Winehouse :: Wake up Alone

Cat Stevens :: Trouble

Squeeze :: Points of View

Bonnie Raitt :: I Can’t Make You Love Me

Warren Zevon :: Reconsider Me

Smokey Robinson & The Miracles :: The Tracks of My Tears

Joe Jackson :: Is She Really Going out with Him?

Rufus Wainwright :: April Fools

Smog :: Cold Blooded Old Times

Nico :: These Days

Nick Drake :: Which Will

Nanci Griffith :: Morning Song for Sally

Bob Dylan :: If You See Her, Say Hello

Tom Waits :: Trampled Rose

Rickie Lee Jones :: Company

Jimmy Buffet :: Coast of Marseilles

George Jones :: He Stopped Loving Her Today

Here’s the zip file for those of you too unrequited or bitter to right-click fortysomething times.

“Morning Song for Sally” is one of my very favorite songs in the world. It’s perfect, a lovely tale about a love that can’t be. Jerry Jeff Walker wrote it, and Nanci’s cover is sublime. I listen to it over … and over … and over again … for an hour or more. (I love the drama of heartache. And I'm a bit OCD.) It's a very visual song, almost like a short story.

Funny story about that Alanis Morrissette tune. I was enjoying a lovely, late-night online flirtfest with this wonderful guy. He was sending me his favorite YouTubes (most on the sexier side of the lyrics sheet) between e-flirts. I sent an e-mail about how cute I thought he was (he was, and I believe he still is). A few minutes later, he sends the “Uninvited” video — a song with lyrics like Like anyone would be / I am flattered by your fascination with me / Like any hot blooded woman / I have simply wanted an object to crave / But you're not allowed / You're uninvited / An unfortunate slight. Say wha… ? Never had I been slapped down so completely, misjudged someone’s interest. With a few tears stinging my eyes (remember, I live my life like a Douglas Sirk character), I sent an e-mail backing out of a date later that week … which confused him … which led to one of those dreaded he said/she saids … which led to a deeper conversation we needed to have ... about his never paying attention to the words. Boys, if you’re going to send a girl a video with a song you think is romantic, take the time to check a lyrics site, or you’ll be home watching Numb3rs again.

Between this and December’s heartbreak tape, you’re set for a weekend of moping and moaning. But then get your a** up Monday get your flirt on.

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A View from the Porch

It finally started raining around 10:30 last night. The grumble of the thunderstorm drew me out to the porch, and that’s pretty much where I’ve spent the last 24 hours. My rocking chair, my laptop, my cats, a good book, and a great thunderstorm. [Crikey; am I turning into Celestine Sibley?]

My chubby little toes and I enjoy the rainstorm from the porch

I have a great little porch. It’s set into the building, so my neighbors can’t see me when I’m out here. I look out onto trees, so there’s nothing but green in front of me. Nobody else has been on their porches or patios this weekend, so I've had the back to myself. I turned off the music early this afternoon so that I could enjoy the rattle of rain and the silence of Sunday. It’s barely drizzling now. The birds are back to singing, and I’ve spent the last 20 minutes watching a lizard slither around the ground. Everything’s so green, so quiet. Hard to believe I’m just a mile or so from Peachtree.

[Good Lord, I am turning into Celestine Sibley, aren’t I?]

Maggie’s view from the porch

I came out this morning with my friend Walter’s latest novel. I love spending a Sunday reading a book from cover to cover. Today's book — Feet of Clay, published under his pen name Ruth Birmingham — is a good, quick-read murder mystery set in Georgia. Walter writes a strong female character, but he may get a lecture on perpetuating the overtly racist Southern gentleman stereotype. Still recommend it, though, if you’re a mystery fan.

Shameless plug: If you’re in Atlanta, pick up Feet of Clay or any number of titles at Chapter 11 Books, a good local chain that’s coming back from, well, chapter 11. (Perry, I would have linked the book to y’all, but you don’t have separate URLs for individual titles.) If you’re not in Atlanta, you can order online and support an independently owned bookstore.

Otto’s view from the porch

I had a meltdown and long cry with my best friend today. There’s a lot going on that has left me scared and lonely and heartbroken, and I just couldn’t keep it bottled up any longer. I tend to let people think that life is great and sunny and fun and full of music … when instead I want to cry and scream and have someone listen to me. I’m truly blessed to have that beautiful friend, who tells me she’s happy that I’m crying and feeling sorry for myself. My façade doesn’t fool her, but she knows me well enough to be patient for the occasional meltdown. I can’t say I feel any less sad or scared, but I know I’m deeply loved. As she says, change is scary — but good will come from it. At least I have a good porch.

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