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mytyltyltyl Below are 10 entries, after skipping 10 most recent ones in the "mytyltyltyl" journal:

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December 29th, 2008
08:54 pm
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Stream-of-consciousness recount.
Sioux City today for grandparents and other family meeting, cousin, aunt, uncle, mom, grandpa, grandma, me. To Sneakies Chicken - really the best. Little. Little place.

Sokolowski. Sokolowski. I asked my mom : tell me mom how do YOU pronounce it, Sokolowski, do you say "soh-koh-louw-ski" or "sah-kah-kahs-ski" like grandma and grandpa say?

Sah-kah-lah-ski she said, it's not -soh-koh-louw-ski, she pronounced very dramatically like rich turn-of-the-century Old Money.

But mom. Why like that. That's how grandma and grandpa say it, but I say soh-koh-louw-ski, why mom? Why do you say it like that? Do you really say it like that?

She thought. You know, I say it soh-koh-louw-ski.

Mom. Why did you tell me you pronounced it the other way? Why do you pronounce it that way? I don't understand. Why would grandma and grandpa pronounce it sah-kah-lah-ski and you would the other way?!

There was no answer.

We had learned together earlier today, that my grandfather had changed his name at my grandma's behest, as when they were to get married my grandma told a nun of some acquaintance of hers there in Sioux City the name of Vincent Sokolovske. You're marrying a Jewish boy? She asked. My grandma said no . . .

They decided his name must be Sokolowski. The confusion:

Ellis Island. The name transformations of immigration. I take you back to this earlier afternoon with my mom and her family. . .

We looked at birth certificates, baptism certificate. Vincent Sokolovske.

Dad, said my mom. You're Jewish!

We both stalled and looked at each other and in glee laughed.

Likely he is not, though I would have much enjoyed the change of perspective, but he was given a Jewish name as his parents when they sailed over from near-Russian Poland to America were given a Jewish name in the phonetic translation onto their immigrant papers. From his family there are Sokolowskis and Sokolovskes. They may all have started here though as Sokolovskes though and some changed and some didn't.

This I never knew. I also didn't know the Russianness of his parents, who he told me would speak Polish with Russian words, as they came from an area near Russia.

I told them that as I'm abroad I want to go to Poland. My grandma called her near-deaf sister to find me the names of the towns, the memories. My grandpa doesn't want me to go to Poland because he told me I would get lost forever. He thought I would get dropped off there left to wander around and get stolen. He didn't understand the network of trains and buses. You stay in France, he told me, though I could feel a flickering in him. I had opened something up. The foreignness of the past to me, that I have to explore. And opened it up for them again. They otherwise wouldn't have spoken of it again, forgotten.

Maiso.
Miaso.
Miosovicz.
Corko.
Cierko.
Shorko.

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December 28th, 2008
04:22 pm
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I get the feeling I'm being avoided by many angles and perceptions.
Which is fine. But I'd rather not bother the wonder of it.



The possibilities of hurt and proud, or proud and hurt.

Once
I heard
he thought
I was
a trip.

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10:22 am
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Winter.

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December 27th, 2008
03:39 pm
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A tearless weeping plea.
I am never going to host a party, or have a party centered on me again.

All I want to do is settle down to read awhile and this whole time I'm in a mess of making mess and cleaning it up. All I seem to do is drink and sleep away my time to read and focus. (though I do enjoy the drinking and sleeping, just wish I could do more)

I am never going to bring up ideas again.

I am going to hide away quietly forever.

Love,
Rebecca

PS: that's all you know me by anyway, LJ.

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02:26 pm
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I always tear/laugh/cry at the end when the music gets strong.
Before Sunset


Exhalation.

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01:57 pm
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I kind of hate it when youtubes of songs
are the just songs with a still picture. Example:



But, in the silliness of it, I sort of like it better than montages of stills.

Actually, I kind of quite love the silliness of the single still for the whole song.

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01:37 pm
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It's the way Maria Tanase sing-shouts that it hurts and refreshes
that I love it:



Similar to the way of this old cantor music of Yossele Rosenblatt:



What is the word for this quality? This feeling and quality that I don't know how to name. But that I bow my head to.

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01:34 pm
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This is a real voice: Yma Sumac.


I just liked the dress-presentation here and that there are French subtitles at one point here:

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08:45 am
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Ridiculous.
I just woke up and have been by standards of song-stuck-in-head volume been hearing that "I'm Never Gonna Dance Again" (don't know if is title or not) song, very loudly. I just realized it. Then wondered why after just waking up that song's in my head. And it's because of this I just remembered : I had a dream of watching a "music video" of a tall thin white dark featured man in the shadows the color of a cooking roast dancing and singing this song. I don't know what else was going on in the dream, the context, just that I witnessed this.

Good morning.

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December 26th, 2008
09:19 pm
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I love her look of released exhaustion at the very end as she veers off.

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