It snowed overnight here in the northeast leaving a fresh wintry mix on the roads for my morning commute. Now because I’m crabby BC [Before Coffee] I needed a quick fix in my new echo gloves and Hollister down jacket, in navy. I needed retro comfort in white to go with my blue. Immediately I flung open my center console and reached for my now vintage (scary) but still easily accessible Tori Amos Little Earthquakes CD. And I woke myself up by singing Winter in the only place I dare sing. On the road.

Snow can wait
I forgot my mittens
Wipe my nose
Get my new boots on
I get a little warm in my heart
When I think of winter
I put my hand in my father's glove

I run off where the DRIFTS GET DEEPER
Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown
I hear a voice
"You must learn to stand up for yourself
Cause I can't always be around"

Cut to 9 hours later and I’m driving north in the opposite direction. Away from winter but still in a Tori state of mind when I reached and found….Boys for Pele.

I suppose like everything else I did it a bit backwards. South to Winter, North to Heat. I am slightly dyslexic like that.

Caught a light sneeze, Caught a light breeze caught a light weight lightening seed
Boys on my Left Side, Boys on my Right side, Boys in the middle and you’re not here… caught a light sneeze
dreamed a little dream
made my own pretty hate machine

And during Horses and Blood Roses, I was reminded of Christmas trees with sappy pine cones, smoking and laughing fits on the floor with fairies tickling my stomach from the inside out, to the twinkling of lights. I miss that. I miss Tori circa 1996. Icicle, Crucify, Precious Things. Irreverance.

For the same reason I dream in chocolate and I think all chocolate should be dark chocolate. Bitter and raw but satisfying. None of this milk chocolate or white chocolate over processed under simulated nonsense. Same reason why the depraved parts of me look forward to Nip / Tuck on Tuesday nights, Pugsley’s bully stick breath, and naked truth. And here is a Tori video because I don’t like Mondays either but I do like feisty red heads writhing on a piano bench. It never gets old to me.