A while back, I got tagged by Tonya to post some music memories. So many songs were swimming through my head, I didn't know where to start...that is, until I dragged out some of my old cassette singles. Here goes, in (almost) chronological order:
1. When I was 16, I thought there was nothing more beautiful than this. "The doorway to a thousand churches," so many swoons. When I saw it was being used in a John Cusack movie, I got so angry I boycotted the film. For a while. Then I got over it.
2. Around the same time, my best friend and I would spend our weekends driving endlessly and aimlessly in my car. More than a few times we wore our throats out singing this one. Incest! Revenge! Such dramz, the perfect tonic for our bored selves.
3. Enya was the soundtrack to my teenage obsession with Anne Rice. I think I read The Vampire Lestat about 14 times, and intentionally listened only to Watermark while doing so. I still can't hear this one without imagining Lestat and Marius together.
4. In college, my mind often wandered off into a noir fantasy, and I was the femme fatale. This was always the song in my head.
5. The summer of 1993. Lying in the grass, this in my headphones. Sun so strong it melted the dashboard of my VW.
6. This one reminds me of the anxiety I had before graduating from college. In denial about my future, squeezing everything out of the last few months as a student until my fingers bled.
7. For years I lusted after a guy who loved Prince. So I listened to this a lot. That is all.
8. I used to like this song a little too much in my twenties. I wanted my cowboy. And doing the laundry sounded nice to me. My inner feminist was resting.
9. I had a close guy friend who felt betrayed by this song. On hearing the words "the world is a vampire," he went from a Smashing Pumpkins lover to a hater. His imitation of Billy Corgan as a rat in a cage would send me into fits of laughter that would last for days.
It is okay to be a tiny bit psycho. I'm a nice mix of Madea and Medea.
I admire those girls who sprint across the main floor of Penn Station in their skyscraper heels. It's like a charming tampon commercial about modern women making it in the big city. What's not to like?
No one, under any circumstances, is allowed to say "brain fart."
However, I encourage strongly for people to say "Catch you on the flippy-flip!" instead of "goodbye".
Can teenagers start saying, "Shit just got to be an O.Henry level of ironical up in here, you guys."
The best revenge is living well. The second best revenge is acid in face. Who will love them now?
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I never had a relationship with Buffy. When I flipped past the show, I'd usually laugh at the silly demon makeup and keep going. When a friend tried to play Once More With Feeling in the car, I begged her not to. I barely glanced at this print of Angel when looking through Betty Turbo's awesome shop. But then my daughter started waking up to nurse at 5 a.m., and I started watching Angel on mute, half-asleep. Maybe it was seeing Pete Campbell with floppy hair. Or Dexter's wife vamping it up. But I started sneakily turning up the volume. The next thing I knew, I was DVRing the show, riveted when Cordelia gave birth to Jasmine, shocked when Spike reappeared, teary when Angel saw Connor with his new parents. Now I've plowed through the first season of Buffy on Netflix in just a few days. I can't wait to see Angel become Angelus before Buffy's eyes. And years after it offended my ears, I can't wait to hear Spike sing Rest in Peace.
Last week spring, sometimes only a fable in Chicago, arrived. So when I spotted this old puzzle toy of mine on my mom's shelf, I had to take it home with me. I probably love it more now than I did as a little one. I'll let Lena borrow it, though.