Dear Marshall Mathers,

Dear Marshall Mathers,

It has just occurred to me that I haven't even mentioned you on this blog in a really long time. It has been all migraines, stress, the Rabbit Hole, liars, cheaters, vestibular therapy, what I have been watching on TV, my SSD and my stress about THAT, friendship disappointments, etc. None of that means that I haven't considered blogging about you, because I have. Lots of times. In fact, each time you released a song on video I had a strong urge to do the Breakdown. Yeah, I am talking about Spacebound and Lighters. I am not so crazy about the Bad Vs. Evil stuff. We'll get into that later. Or not.

Anyway, I still think you might be the best lyricist out there. That doesn't mean you couldn't be better. I remain true to my statements of I.Don't.Know.How.Long.Ago and maintain that you could turn the hip hop community on its ear by showing them just how Smart you are. Brilliant, in fact. You have a way with words that most people dream about. Heck, I dream about it. If you took every curse word out of what you are currently writing, and inserted something sharper, imagine what that would do for your lyrics. Then, when you did drop a curse word, it would mean something. It is sort of like the guy who yells all the time. No one listens because is always yelling. But that guy who rarely says anything.... he can talk in a whisper and everyone shuts up just to hear what he says. Your writing is that good. People would all shut up just to hear what you say. Besides, curse words stop meaning anything when you use them over and over. Just like any other word that is used excessively. I know that you know this already, but sometimes we forget stuff.

I read your book. Did I tell you that already? I am not going to go on and on about it. The one thing I will say is this: You said something in there about letting Slim Shady take over because you didn't think anyone cared about what Marshall Mathers had to say. I think I got that right, more or less. I think you're wrong. I think that everyone cares about what Marshall Mathers has to say. The people who get it understand that Marshall Mathers is the only one who is real in this "show" that you've created. So, his is the only voice that matters.

D12 was a good idea. It got you noticed. It got you famous. It got you credibility in the hip hop world. However, you are now free to be you. And that is the thing I think you still don't get. And I say this because of your song Lighters. You are still writing like you are the Underdog. Like no one has your back out here in the Real World. That the fans don't love you. And you are wrong. You are on top. You can make the Rules. You can be you. (Now I am not saying that some of those fans aren't crazy ass lunatics. See how effective that curse word was coming up out of the blue????) But, many of them are in their 40s. Grown ups. People who grew up with your music and are ready to make that leap with you.

I guess all this comes down to cheerleading. Me cheerleading you. You are amazing. You are a wordsmith. However, you can be better. Allow yourself to grow into that space and find out what incredible feels like. I believe in you.

~Robin

WHY MY FANTASY LIFE SUCKS AND MY REAL LIFE ISN'T ANY BETTER

This is not a typical post. That means it has no real topic matter. However, it does mean that I actually made it out of bed, and got caught up on a lot of blog reading. I didn't comment on all of them, but I made lots of progress. Woohoo.



I am very unhappy about the virus that killed my laptop. Apparently it was big and bad and nuked everything. I always seem to get socked with the Big Bad of Whatever Comes Around. Anywhoozle. Near as I can tell, the guy who repaired my computer said that he saved everything salvageable into my c-drive, including stuff off of my favorites. Well, that was a lot of material people. The emphasis is on WAS. There is nothing that was in my favorites in my c-drive, so that leads me to believe that it was all destroyed. On top of weeks of miserable migraine, that was disheartening. I had some very cool stuff ~ as in my youtube crack cocaine footage ~ in that favorites and it is all gone now. That did nothing to ease my migraine.

Also, all of my pictures are gone. Yeah, that would be the pictures that I found as I tooled around on http://www.weheartit.com/ and thought they were cool, so I saved them. It would also be all of my crush photos of Marshall Mathers. Misery actually found one of him smiling (sort of) that I really liked and it is now in the wind. Dust. Smoke. Ash. Gone. I am totally kicking myself in the ass for not saving it into photobucket or someplace more safe than my computer. Really kicking myself hard.



Clearly, this is not the picture. See how sad Marshall looks. He shares my unhappiness over the lost photo....

Well, then there is my book. I do believe that most of it is on my flash drive. And when that got full a CD. I think I saved The End onto the CD. I just can't bring myself to look, because if it isn't there I know that I won't be able to bring myself to go back and write it again. I will trash can the whole project. Yeah, it is over 100,000 words and I will just trash can it. Because The End is like 25,000 words that I wrote a long time ago and I didn't print onto a hard copy (like the rest of the book) and I just don't have it in me to rewrite it. So, if it is truly gone. It is done. All of it. Done.



Besides, I have bigger fish to fry. Once I get this stupid migraine under control. I have to get onto a hosting site, my email out, and get my website working. I don't have time to cry about my novel. Or my pictures. Or my favorites. Or everything else that just got wiped off my computer. None of it. No time for crying.

On the positive side, I managed to read enough of your blogs to have HERE'S TO YOU THURSDAY ready to go. It is only Tuesday. I am very proud of that. I have no pictures to post with this post. Yet. But, I have Thursday wrapped up with a freaking bow. It is 8:30 and I haven't eaten dinner. That isn't so great. I should probably take care of that. Pictures first. Then dinner. And tomorrow I will check on the status of The End of my book. I know that is procrastinating. I can only take so much bad news at one time. Right now I am hopeful that I saved it. I want to cling to that for one more day.



One last thing: last time I was out of the house with my friend Anthony, we went to the bookstore and I bought Marshall Mathers' autobiography. Read it in one night. Learned a lot. I am sure I will read it again. Watched 8 Mile. I was kind of disappointed. Marshall was good in it. I just didn't really like the ending. It felt authentic and all. I guess I wanted something more concrete for Rabbit at the end. It was too open. I don't know. I also have thoughts about that sex scene in the factory, but I should probably keep them to myself. Aw hell. I don't keep anything to myself. I sure hope that he lasts longer than a minute in real life or that is damn disappointing. I know that it has done horrible things to my fantasy life. I guess that is why I really didn't like 8 Mile. It has totally screwed up my fantasy life. One minute sex just doesn't do it for me. Like I said, very disappointing. On the plus side, if that was his real butt, he has the cutest bubble butt. Seriously. He totally hides it wearing those athletic pants that are three sizes too large. When a man has a fine behind, he really should make use of it. My ex had NO rear at all. He was flat back to knees. It was sad. When you have a nice round tush, work it. Although, I repeat, that one minute scene in the factory is competing hard against the cute butt. I am not sure which image is winning. Actually, I am. The one minute thing is something I would love to erase from my mind.



I never was a big watcher of The Nanny, but I do remember this one line where she said, "Just give me a minute to get that thought out of my head. (dramatic pause) Nope. I'm just gonna have to live with it." I thought that was hilarious. And I have been known to use it if the occasion warrants it in real life. And that pretty well sums up me and the factory scene. Are you bored with this yet? Me either. But, I will stop.

Okay, I am really needing to eat something. So, I am about to go on a picture hunt. Then I will spell check. Then I will post. You will know that I am not dead, but I am somewhat deranged. In other words, everything is pretty much same old, same old.


all images found at www.weheartit.com