You are about to see how my brain operates; it will fold out right in front of your very eyes. Don't be scared.
Tonight my mother was in the kitchen and since I was there too, we began talking. The IKEA catalog sparked talk of my moving. My moving spawned a thought in her head about me getting an internship next semester in Ft. Worth or Dallas at a publishing house while I study for my orals, which I will take towards the end of the spring semester.
This thought led me to the Wadsworth/Thomson Learning website. I want to work for Wadsworth. That's why I was there. Anyway, I was looking for any open positions, even for internships, in the Metroplex. The search turned up with nothing. I looked for any positions in any field at one of the Metroplex locations. Nothing. I moved on to the state of Texas. Nothing, really. Hmmm...
Then it began to rain outside my window. I opened the window. Smelled the rain. Then I started thinking about London.
I searched in the Editorial/Publishing fields, without specifying where. They had several open positions in New York. They had several open positons in random places like Cleveland and Denver. And then, after scrolling to the bottom of the page, I saw that there were three openings in London. I looked at two of them and thought, I could do that.
I looked back out at the rain. I thought of Rachael Yamagata lyrics. I wondered where my latest resume and cover letter were located.
I found them on my jump drive. I polished up my resume. I wrote a new and improved cover letter. And I sent it.
Then I just sat in this chair and stared at the screen.
I am not sure why I spent my evening working on my resume and a cover letter. It was an impulse. I am 98% sure I will not get the job, but I am 100% sure that I am sick of sitting around and dreaming big. I want my actions to be "big". I don't want to have any regrets.
Applying for a job in another country is the least predictable thing I have done in a while, but I keep thinking (when my mind wanders for a few seconds) about what it would be like to pack up my bags and go. Now that, my friends, would be unpredicatable.
This summer, as I walked around London with my trusty mp3 player, I remember listening to this song incessantly. Tonight, with the thoughts of London and the smell of rain, these words are echoing through my mind.
You sat down next to me, like poetry to wine.
Our window looked upon a yellow neon sign.
I took your hand while you decided what to do.
The only kiss I ever miss I shared with you.
The other cities hold a memory still of a place.
But when I dream of London I can only see your face
I want you
or no one.
No one else will do.
You, or no one.
No one is the only one
to fill the empty space I hold for you.
You simplified me down to slogans on the wall.
I took offense, but you were right about them all.
My friends are telling me I shouldn't waste my time,
but I can't concentrate until I make you mine.
I'm drawing cards and making wishes down by the well.
Who would've known I'd lose myself in that old hotel.
I want you
or no one.
No one else for me.
You, or no one.
'Cause no one else is strong enough, strong enough
to slow me down in time to set me free.
I want you
or no one else.
No one else is fine.
Oh, you, or no one.
No one is the only one
to fill me up until I make you mine.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
The present is just a pleasant interruption to the past...
Oh, blog...it has been far too long. I have good intentions, I really do, yet somewhere along the way they completely fall away from the forefront of my mind. When that happens, those intentions are gone for quite a while.
I have photos I want to post from my two-weekends-ago trip to College Station, via the Weezer/Foo Fighters concert in Dallas. I believe Weezer referred to the evening's concert as "Foozer". Anyway, I want to add photographs from that crazy weekend. There are actually several things I would like to add, but instead of posting new blog entries I have been reading interesting works, such as female captivity narratives. Now, I know all of you are jealous because captivity narratives are so exciting, but try to muffle your enthusiasm. I know that no excuses will suffice when it comes to my blogspot absence, but I feel that I will share with you one source of dismay and semi-outrage: one of my professor's is giving us our midterm next Monday, which means I have to get all of my studying accomplished before girls weekend commences, or I will never get it done. Midterm? It feels like we just began the semester. Oh, well.
Here's a bit of awesome news to follow the captivity crap...I get my Powerbook tomorrow. Today I received my first box from Apple, containing all of my purchased "accessories", and I was pretty pumped. I never buy anything and I never get mail, so it was like...a double whammy! I need to end this shopping spree, indeed...but it's so fun. It's like Ashley says, "You just swipe your card and they let you take it home! You swipe the card and it's yours." Hmm...in looking at that statement, I am sitting here thinking about the overwhelming personal debt in our society...and now I am not so "pumped". Oh, well...that's society, not me. I am paying this thing off ASAP and then I will move on to bigger and better (if there is such a thing), such as the furniture on the pages of the IKEA catalog that I have dog-eared. Now all I need is a studio apartment to fill up. Man, the to-do list on the palm of my left hand has grown by two items in the last minute. I need to slow down.
Okay, well...it's my bedtime. Time for some chocolate milk and maybe some music. Tonight I have this song stuck in my head. It's really long, so I will just include the "stuck" excerpts...and it will still be long.
"Konstantine" by Something Corporate
I can't imagine all the people that you know
and the places that you go
when the lights are turned down low.
And I don't understand all the things you've seen,
but I'm slipping in between
you and your big dreams.
It's always you
in my big dreams.
And you dont wanna be here in the future
so you say the present is just a pleasant interruption to the past.
And you dont wanna look much closer
cause you are afraid to find out all this hope
you had sent into the sky by now had
crashed,
and it did
because of me. And then you bring me home,
afraid to find out that you are alone, oh.
And I'm sleeping in your living room,
but we dont have much room to live.
And I had these dreams. In them I learned to play guitar,
maybe cross the country,
become a rock star.
And there was hope in me that I could take you there,
but damnit, you're so young...
well, i dont think I care.
And if I hurt you
then I'm sorry.
Please don't think that this was easy.
And then you bring me home
cause we both know what it's like to be alone, oh.
And I'm dreaming in your living room,
but we don't have much room to live.
And I was thinking
what I was thinking.
We've been drinking and it doesn't get me anywhere.
My Konstantine came walking down the stairs
and all that I could do was touch her long blond hair.
And I've been thinking,
but it hurts.
And those nights in my car
when the first star you see
may not be a star,
I'm not your star.
Isn't that what you said?
What you thought this song meant?
And if this is what it takes
just to lie with my mistakes
and live with what I did to you,
all the hell I put you through.
I always catch the clock,
its 11:11.
Now you wanna talk.
It's not hard to dream.
You'll always be my Konstantine.
My Konstantine,
they'll never hurt you like I do.
No, they'll never hurt you like I do.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no....
This is to a girl
who got into my head
with all the pretty things she did.
Hey,
you know
you keep me up in bed.
This is to a girl who got into my head
with all these f-ed up things I did.
Hey,
maybe
baby you could keep me up in bed,
my Konstanine.
You spin around me like a dream
we played out on this movie screen,
and I said,
Did you know I missed you?
I miss you.
And then you bring me home
and we go to sleep,
but this time not alone.
And I know
you'll kiss me in your living room.
I know.
I know you miss me in your living room,
cause these nights I think
maybe that I miss you in my living room,
but we don't have much room.
I said, does anybody need that room?
Because we all need a little more room
to live,
my Konstantine....
I have photos I want to post from my two-weekends-ago trip to College Station, via the Weezer/Foo Fighters concert in Dallas. I believe Weezer referred to the evening's concert as "Foozer". Anyway, I want to add photographs from that crazy weekend. There are actually several things I would like to add, but instead of posting new blog entries I have been reading interesting works, such as female captivity narratives. Now, I know all of you are jealous because captivity narratives are so exciting, but try to muffle your enthusiasm. I know that no excuses will suffice when it comes to my blogspot absence, but I feel that I will share with you one source of dismay and semi-outrage: one of my professor's is giving us our midterm next Monday, which means I have to get all of my studying accomplished before girls weekend commences, or I will never get it done. Midterm? It feels like we just began the semester. Oh, well.
Here's a bit of awesome news to follow the captivity crap...I get my Powerbook tomorrow. Today I received my first box from Apple, containing all of my purchased "accessories", and I was pretty pumped. I never buy anything and I never get mail, so it was like...a double whammy! I need to end this shopping spree, indeed...but it's so fun. It's like Ashley says, "You just swipe your card and they let you take it home! You swipe the card and it's yours." Hmm...in looking at that statement, I am sitting here thinking about the overwhelming personal debt in our society...and now I am not so "pumped". Oh, well...that's society, not me. I am paying this thing off ASAP and then I will move on to bigger and better (if there is such a thing), such as the furniture on the pages of the IKEA catalog that I have dog-eared. Now all I need is a studio apartment to fill up. Man, the to-do list on the palm of my left hand has grown by two items in the last minute. I need to slow down.
Okay, well...it's my bedtime. Time for some chocolate milk and maybe some music. Tonight I have this song stuck in my head. It's really long, so I will just include the "stuck" excerpts...and it will still be long.
"Konstantine" by Something Corporate
I can't imagine all the people that you know
and the places that you go
when the lights are turned down low.
And I don't understand all the things you've seen,
but I'm slipping in between
you and your big dreams.
It's always you
in my big dreams.
And you dont wanna be here in the future
so you say the present is just a pleasant interruption to the past.
And you dont wanna look much closer
cause you are afraid to find out all this hope
you had sent into the sky by now had
crashed,
and it did
because of me. And then you bring me home,
afraid to find out that you are alone, oh.
And I'm sleeping in your living room,
but we dont have much room to live.
And I had these dreams. In them I learned to play guitar,
maybe cross the country,
become a rock star.
And there was hope in me that I could take you there,
but damnit, you're so young...
well, i dont think I care.
And if I hurt you
then I'm sorry.
Please don't think that this was easy.
And then you bring me home
cause we both know what it's like to be alone, oh.
And I'm dreaming in your living room,
but we don't have much room to live.
And I was thinking
what I was thinking.
We've been drinking and it doesn't get me anywhere.
My Konstantine came walking down the stairs
and all that I could do was touch her long blond hair.
And I've been thinking,
but it hurts.
And those nights in my car
when the first star you see
may not be a star,
I'm not your star.
Isn't that what you said?
What you thought this song meant?
And if this is what it takes
just to lie with my mistakes
and live with what I did to you,
all the hell I put you through.
I always catch the clock,
its 11:11.
Now you wanna talk.
It's not hard to dream.
You'll always be my Konstantine.
My Konstantine,
they'll never hurt you like I do.
No, they'll never hurt you like I do.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no....
This is to a girl
who got into my head
with all the pretty things she did.
Hey,
you know
you keep me up in bed.
This is to a girl who got into my head
with all these f-ed up things I did.
Hey,
maybe
baby you could keep me up in bed,
my Konstanine.
You spin around me like a dream
we played out on this movie screen,
and I said,
Did you know I missed you?
I miss you.
And then you bring me home
and we go to sleep,
but this time not alone.
And I know
you'll kiss me in your living room.
I know.
I know you miss me in your living room,
cause these nights I think
maybe that I miss you in my living room,
but we don't have much room.
I said, does anybody need that room?
Because we all need a little more room
to live,
my Konstantine....
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Something to Ponder...
I have a widget that has a word, quote, and joke of the day every weekday. Today's quote was very interesting.
"Life is all about ass: you're either covering it, laughing it off, kicking it, kissing it, busting it, trying to get a piece of it, or behaving like one."-- Friedrich Nietche
"Life is all about ass: you're either covering it, laughing it off, kicking it, kissing it, busting it, trying to get a piece of it, or behaving like one."-- Friedrich Nietche
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
When a meteor hit outside the city of Centerville...
a mysterious cloud released a chemical that enabled bears to evolve and fill the void left by humans.
And within two weeks, they had established...Bear City.
Bear City, Bear, Bear City....
Although they couldn't talk, they went about their lives just like man had done.
The only humans left in Bear City were two brave children. And they were quickly eaten. By bears.
Thanks for visiting Bear City.
Now, my question is...if one was living in Bear City and they, by chance, had a Rosa's Tortilla Factory, would they have honey humans at every table?!
And within two weeks, they had established...Bear City.
Bear City, Bear, Bear City....
Although they couldn't talk, they went about their lives just like man had done.
The only humans left in Bear City were two brave children. And they were quickly eaten. By bears.
Thanks for visiting Bear City.
Now, my question is...if one was living in Bear City and they, by chance, had a Rosa's Tortilla Factory, would they have honey humans at every table?!
Let's take the train to anywhere...
Okay, so I am back. The play is over. My nights are free (for the most part). Awesome!
This weekend was great! Thank you to everyone who came to see the play. Emily, Grant, and Trevor drove in from Dallas/Ft. Worth to see it, and some of you even saw it multiple times (Ashley, Cliff, Toby, Miles). You all are troopers! Thank you.
Saturday was awesome! Grant and I ate at La Popular for breakfast. My mother and grandmother made an incredible meal for us for lunch. Later in the afternoon, Grant and I played disc golf in the crazy Texas heat; he's really good...I pretty much suck. His GPS system broke or I would have forced him to partake in a little Geocaching. Saturday night was the show and my entire family...along with Grant and his sister and her husband...and several friends showed up. The audience was awesome, so it made the show all the more exciting! After the show, Grant's sister made us dessert over at her house, and then it was over to Ashley's for cocktails and a little Bear City, Bear Bear City. Good times. Sunday was our final show and strike, so it's officially over...forever. I miss seeing those guys (and Carrie) every night, but at least now I can actually focus on my school work. I would like to graduate eventually.
Anyway, I just found out I have a 7 page paper due Monday. That shouldn't be too big of a deal, however, I am leaving on Thursday for the weekend. Thursday night Grant and I are going to the Weezer/Foo Fighters concert in Dallas, and then Friday we are off to College Station for the weekend. It should be a pretty crazy time. There are like 12 people staying in the house we are staying at: all of his ex-roommates, plus their cousins and their cousins cousins...or something like that. It should be a lot of fun, and I am sure I will have plenty of stories to share when I get back.
On a ridiculous note, last night I was panicking because I had to edit stories for The Brand and send them in immediately because this weekend (when I usually edit) was so chaotic and I had no time. So, I go up to The Brand office where I am confronted with this man from out of nowhere. He tries to seem all authoritative and he's like, "Umm...yes...these are the changes we want to see on this article. I have circled sections...see, like this one, no. This other one...no. We can't say that because it implies things about the administration. We can't say this because it kind of points a finger...but I have written something at the end here that we could say...so, make these changes." Okay, first off...who are you?! Secondly, there was a speech in the play about our freedom of expression, especially on HSU campus, that makes what you are saying to me come across as extremely ironic. Thirdly, seriously?! Fourthly...implies? Points a finger? Good. It's a freaking op-ed piece. The writer should be able to express his/her thoughts...the writer didn't name drop and the facts were true so stop trying to cover your ass and let this go to print. God forbid we have anything edgy to say. God forbid we make any statement that could be taken in any other way than safe and completely PC. I was just like, why do I work for these people?! I mean, when writers can't speak their minds...what's the point. I wanted to say, hey...why don't you just write every article and edit it yourself. Then it will be the most boring paper ever...oh, wait a minute.
Song I am currently listening to:
"Don't Ever" by Missy Higgins
Let's take the train to anywhere.
I wanna feel the wind in my hair with you.
Let's tell them all, that soon they'll know
how very wrong they were to think we'd never go,
and if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine.
And we will clean the cobwebs out of one another's minds.
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time.
We'll get a house where the trees hang low and pretty little flowers
on our window sill will grow.
We'll make friends with the milk man and the butcher Mr. Timms
will give us discounts when he can,
and if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine.
And we will clean the cobwebs out of one another's minds.
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time.
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life .
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time....
This weekend was great! Thank you to everyone who came to see the play. Emily, Grant, and Trevor drove in from Dallas/Ft. Worth to see it, and some of you even saw it multiple times (Ashley, Cliff, Toby, Miles). You all are troopers! Thank you.
Saturday was awesome! Grant and I ate at La Popular for breakfast. My mother and grandmother made an incredible meal for us for lunch. Later in the afternoon, Grant and I played disc golf in the crazy Texas heat; he's really good...I pretty much suck. His GPS system broke or I would have forced him to partake in a little Geocaching. Saturday night was the show and my entire family...along with Grant and his sister and her husband...and several friends showed up. The audience was awesome, so it made the show all the more exciting! After the show, Grant's sister made us dessert over at her house, and then it was over to Ashley's for cocktails and a little Bear City, Bear Bear City. Good times. Sunday was our final show and strike, so it's officially over...forever. I miss seeing those guys (and Carrie) every night, but at least now I can actually focus on my school work. I would like to graduate eventually.
Anyway, I just found out I have a 7 page paper due Monday. That shouldn't be too big of a deal, however, I am leaving on Thursday for the weekend. Thursday night Grant and I are going to the Weezer/Foo Fighters concert in Dallas, and then Friday we are off to College Station for the weekend. It should be a pretty crazy time. There are like 12 people staying in the house we are staying at: all of his ex-roommates, plus their cousins and their cousins cousins...or something like that. It should be a lot of fun, and I am sure I will have plenty of stories to share when I get back.
On a ridiculous note, last night I was panicking because I had to edit stories for The Brand and send them in immediately because this weekend (when I usually edit) was so chaotic and I had no time. So, I go up to The Brand office where I am confronted with this man from out of nowhere. He tries to seem all authoritative and he's like, "Umm...yes...these are the changes we want to see on this article. I have circled sections...see, like this one, no. This other one...no. We can't say that because it implies things about the administration. We can't say this because it kind of points a finger...but I have written something at the end here that we could say...so, make these changes." Okay, first off...who are you?! Secondly, there was a speech in the play about our freedom of expression, especially on HSU campus, that makes what you are saying to me come across as extremely ironic. Thirdly, seriously?! Fourthly...implies? Points a finger? Good. It's a freaking op-ed piece. The writer should be able to express his/her thoughts...the writer didn't name drop and the facts were true so stop trying to cover your ass and let this go to print. God forbid we have anything edgy to say. God forbid we make any statement that could be taken in any other way than safe and completely PC. I was just like, why do I work for these people?! I mean, when writers can't speak their minds...what's the point. I wanted to say, hey...why don't you just write every article and edit it yourself. Then it will be the most boring paper ever...oh, wait a minute.
Song I am currently listening to:
"Don't Ever" by Missy Higgins
Let's take the train to anywhere.
I wanna feel the wind in my hair with you.
Let's tell them all, that soon they'll know
how very wrong they were to think we'd never go,
and if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine.
And we will clean the cobwebs out of one another's minds.
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time.
We'll get a house where the trees hang low and pretty little flowers
on our window sill will grow.
We'll make friends with the milk man and the butcher Mr. Timms
will give us discounts when he can,
and if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine.
And we will clean the cobwebs out of one another's minds.
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time.
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life .
Don't ever say you've tried to leave me in this life.
Don't ever say you've tried for the last time....
Thursday, September 08, 2005
The write-up in today's newspaper...
Thank you Janet.
Play Review: HSU's 'Complete History' is total blast
By Janet Van Vleet / Reporter-News Staff Writer September 8, 2005
From the founding fathers to Abraham Lincoln to American Indians, no one is safe from the irreverent comedy of ''The Complete History of America (abridged)'' - not even the audience.
Directed by senior Carrie Helms, the first show of the Hardin-Simmons University theater season featured three talented actors playing ... themselves. Brad Ellison, Melia McFarland and Eric Peets guide the crowd from America's earliest beginnings to the present.
Filled with sight gags (Peets as a woman in bad wigs and dresses), so-lame-it's-funny puns (''Lucy in disguise with Diamond'') and jokes that fly so fast they're easy to miss (so listen carefully), it's just plain fun.
The distinctive-voiced Ellison played various characters, such as the grim Salem preacher making church announcements about making nooses and thumb screws during arts and crafts. He performed one of his funniest bits, about conspiracies, while lying on the ground. Now that's good delivery.
McFarland and Peets zoomed in and out, dropping one-liners and ba-da-bum moments. Peets' poem about the colonists that segued into a rap cracked everyone up. During a radio broadcast, McFarland booms the cymbals. Why? ''Heavy cymbalism.''
The Lincoln assassination involves a hand puppet, a huge admission ticket and a recurring cardboard bullet - it must be seen to get the full impact. Believe me, its funny.
The cheekiness of the actors and the cleverness of the writing make this a very comical show.
If you're in the audience, beware - audience participation isn't voluntary. By the way, take heed of the warning about a ''splash zone'' (umbrellas optional).
If you go ...
What: ''The Complete History of America (abridged)'' (comedy)
When: 8 p.m. tonight-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday
Where: Van Ellis Theatre, Hardin-Simmons University
How much: $5 adults, $3 students, free for HSU students, faculty, staff
Play Review: HSU's 'Complete History' is total blast
By Janet Van Vleet / Reporter-News Staff Writer September 8, 2005
From the founding fathers to Abraham Lincoln to American Indians, no one is safe from the irreverent comedy of ''The Complete History of America (abridged)'' - not even the audience.
Directed by senior Carrie Helms, the first show of the Hardin-Simmons University theater season featured three talented actors playing ... themselves. Brad Ellison, Melia McFarland and Eric Peets guide the crowd from America's earliest beginnings to the present.
Filled with sight gags (Peets as a woman in bad wigs and dresses), so-lame-it's-funny puns (''Lucy in disguise with Diamond'') and jokes that fly so fast they're easy to miss (so listen carefully), it's just plain fun.
The distinctive-voiced Ellison played various characters, such as the grim Salem preacher making church announcements about making nooses and thumb screws during arts and crafts. He performed one of his funniest bits, about conspiracies, while lying on the ground. Now that's good delivery.
McFarland and Peets zoomed in and out, dropping one-liners and ba-da-bum moments. Peets' poem about the colonists that segued into a rap cracked everyone up. During a radio broadcast, McFarland booms the cymbals. Why? ''Heavy cymbalism.''
The Lincoln assassination involves a hand puppet, a huge admission ticket and a recurring cardboard bullet - it must be seen to get the full impact. Believe me, its funny.
The cheekiness of the actors and the cleverness of the writing make this a very comical show.
If you're in the audience, beware - audience participation isn't voluntary. By the way, take heed of the warning about a ''splash zone'' (umbrellas optional).
If you go ...
What: ''The Complete History of America (abridged)'' (comedy)
When: 8 p.m. tonight-Saturday, 2 p.m. Sunday
Where: Van Ellis Theatre, Hardin-Simmons University
How much: $5 adults, $3 students, free for HSU students, faculty, staff
Because it's a High Fidelity kind of night...
The book or the film...both excellent. Here are several of my favorite quotes:
It's no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn't even speak to each other if they met at a party.
I wanna date a musician...
I wanna live with a musician...
And we could sit around and write songs all day, and maybe even include one of our little private jokes in the liner notes.
Or maybe even a picture of me somewhere in the liner notes, but just in the background somewhere.
Top five things I miss about Laura:
One - Sense of humor. Very dry, but it can also be warm and forgiving. And she's got one of the best all-time laughs in the history of all-time laughs. She laughs with her entire body.
Two - She's got character...or at least she had character before the Ian nightmare. She's loyal and honest and she doesn't even take it out on people when she's having a bad day. That's character.
Three - I miss...her smell...and the way she tastes. It's a mystery of human chemistry and I don't understand it. Some people, as far as your senses are concerned, just...feel...like home.
Four- I really dig how she walks around. It's like she doesn't care how she looks or what she projects. And it's not that she doesn't care, it's just...she's not affected I guess. And that gives her grace.
Five- She does this thing in bed when she can't get to sleep. She kind of half-moans and then rubs her feet together an equal number of times. It just...kills me.
A while back, me, Dick, and Barry agreed that what really matters is WHAT you like, not what you ARE like. Books, records, films, these things matter! Call me shallow, but it's the f-ing truth.
...And I'm tired of that. I'm tired of everything else, for that matter. But I never seem to get tired of you.
Liking both Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel is like supporting both the Israelies and the Palestinians.
No, it's really not, Rob. You know why? Because Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel make pop records.
Made! Made! Marvin Gaye was shot by his father!
What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns or watching violent videos afraid that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands, of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery, and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?
It's no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn't even speak to each other if they met at a party.
I wanna date a musician...
I wanna live with a musician...
And we could sit around and write songs all day, and maybe even include one of our little private jokes in the liner notes.
Or maybe even a picture of me somewhere in the liner notes, but just in the background somewhere.
Top five things I miss about Laura:
One - Sense of humor. Very dry, but it can also be warm and forgiving. And she's got one of the best all-time laughs in the history of all-time laughs. She laughs with her entire body.
Two - She's got character...or at least she had character before the Ian nightmare. She's loyal and honest and she doesn't even take it out on people when she's having a bad day. That's character.
Three - I miss...her smell...and the way she tastes. It's a mystery of human chemistry and I don't understand it. Some people, as far as your senses are concerned, just...feel...like home.
Four- I really dig how she walks around. It's like she doesn't care how she looks or what she projects. And it's not that she doesn't care, it's just...she's not affected I guess. And that gives her grace.
Five- She does this thing in bed when she can't get to sleep. She kind of half-moans and then rubs her feet together an equal number of times. It just...kills me.
A while back, me, Dick, and Barry agreed that what really matters is WHAT you like, not what you ARE like. Books, records, films, these things matter! Call me shallow, but it's the f-ing truth.
...And I'm tired of that. I'm tired of everything else, for that matter. But I never seem to get tired of you.
Liking both Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel is like supporting both the Israelies and the Palestinians.
No, it's really not, Rob. You know why? Because Marvin Gaye and Art Garfunkel make pop records.
Made! Made! Marvin Gaye was shot by his father!
What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns or watching violent videos afraid that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands, of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery, and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?
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