You just keep me hanging on....
It has been a strange few days. The weirdness doesn't seem to be letting up. It is both comforting and disconcerting to find such pleasure in the flux.
I had to make an emergency journey to the far reaches of central MA without a car, and it took me about two days to get there. Three trains, two subways, one kindly family friend with a car, and I finally made it to Millburn, MA, which is outside of Worcester on the saddest strip of land I've ever encountered. There were all manner of other obstacles, but in the end I found my boyfriend, got my car from the impound lot, and attended a district court hearing. J and I even went bowling, saw Up (which was amazing, and which I cried through most of), and ate a really disgusting meal Chilis. We are never going back to Chilis, and it's quite sad that we even have to return to Millburn.
Thankfully, this weekend is behind us. There are a number of external stressors on our relationship right now -- money issues, joblessness, more work for me, a new city, etc! but there was a moment in the car on the way back from MA when Lou Reed's "Perfect Day" came on, and I said to J that it should be our wedding song, and he said, "this song is really so appropriate for us, sadly." And he's right, "Perfect Day" is a little bit nostalgic and sad, but it does remind me of us, and of the time we spend together, and how I think we seek strength from one another, and sense of normalcy amidst the chaos.
Here, you can listen to "Perfect Day," just right click & save.
I am also painfully hung-over right now. Lila came over to talk about doing a dinner with J, and apparently I drank myself into the floor, because at one point I went into the bedroom to get something and instead I took off my pants and passed out. I also forgot to take my pills. I am pretty stupid.
My mother is really worried about her pickles. She has a big vat of pickles in her fridge and they will not stop pickling. They are making her nervous because she is afraid that they are rotting (or will soon begin to rot). She is emailing the man who gave them to her, and then she will find out if they are okay. Pickles, you know?
For some reason I thought I had more to say. This morning, through the haze of an alcohol induced headache, I saw lots of a magical things. A couple embracing tightly by the G train as my bus rolled by, a sign in Polish on the door of a plumbing store letting the neighborhood know that the plumber had died, a woman with a envelope tattooed behind her ear and decorated with pansies...
Mornings can be tender.
OH! OH! I just remembered what I wanted to talk to you about. I was even more excited to be touched by "Perfect Day" in the car because prior to that moment J and I didn't really have "a song." I'm sure you know what I mean -- one of those tunes that comes on and couples exclaim, "they're playing our song!" and somehow it feels like that moment is just for you, just the two of you. I have always associated "couple songs" with Real Relationships, almost as though a relationship isn't solidified until you have the unifying piece of popular music between you. I know that this is bullshit, but I really do ponder it kind of frequently. I think Kel and I really enjoyed listening to Snow Patrol, specifically the song "Chocolate," and then later, "Chasing Cars." I know for certain that Carl and I considered "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" and also, "If You Find Yourself Caught in Love," to be Our Songs. You'd be surprised how frequently "In The Aeroplane Over the Sea" is a "couple song." My parents' song is "Let It Be Me," and they danced to it at their wedding. Occasionally if it comes on when we're home, they will get up and dance. Behold, the power of the "couple song."
Anyway, it looks like J and I have "a song" now, as lame as that might sound. Do you and your person have a song? Do you care about having one? I'm curious, talk to me.
I had to make an emergency journey to the far reaches of central MA without a car, and it took me about two days to get there. Three trains, two subways, one kindly family friend with a car, and I finally made it to Millburn, MA, which is outside of Worcester on the saddest strip of land I've ever encountered. There were all manner of other obstacles, but in the end I found my boyfriend, got my car from the impound lot, and attended a district court hearing. J and I even went bowling, saw Up (which was amazing, and which I cried through most of), and ate a really disgusting meal Chilis. We are never going back to Chilis, and it's quite sad that we even have to return to Millburn.
Thankfully, this weekend is behind us. There are a number of external stressors on our relationship right now -- money issues, joblessness, more work for me, a new city, etc! but there was a moment in the car on the way back from MA when Lou Reed's "Perfect Day" came on, and I said to J that it should be our wedding song, and he said, "this song is really so appropriate for us, sadly." And he's right, "Perfect Day" is a little bit nostalgic and sad, but it does remind me of us, and of the time we spend together, and how I think we seek strength from one another, and sense of normalcy amidst the chaos.
Here, you can listen to "Perfect Day," just right click & save.
I am also painfully hung-over right now. Lila came over to talk about doing a dinner with J, and apparently I drank myself into the floor, because at one point I went into the bedroom to get something and instead I took off my pants and passed out. I also forgot to take my pills. I am pretty stupid.
My mother is really worried about her pickles. She has a big vat of pickles in her fridge and they will not stop pickling. They are making her nervous because she is afraid that they are rotting (or will soon begin to rot). She is emailing the man who gave them to her, and then she will find out if they are okay. Pickles, you know?
For some reason I thought I had more to say. This morning, through the haze of an alcohol induced headache, I saw lots of a magical things. A couple embracing tightly by the G train as my bus rolled by, a sign in Polish on the door of a plumbing store letting the neighborhood know that the plumber had died, a woman with a envelope tattooed behind her ear and decorated with pansies...
Mornings can be tender.
OH! OH! I just remembered what I wanted to talk to you about. I was even more excited to be touched by "Perfect Day" in the car because prior to that moment J and I didn't really have "a song." I'm sure you know what I mean -- one of those tunes that comes on and couples exclaim, "they're playing our song!" and somehow it feels like that moment is just for you, just the two of you. I have always associated "couple songs" with Real Relationships, almost as though a relationship isn't solidified until you have the unifying piece of popular music between you. I know that this is bullshit, but I really do ponder it kind of frequently. I think Kel and I really enjoyed listening to Snow Patrol, specifically the song "Chocolate," and then later, "Chasing Cars." I know for certain that Carl and I considered "In the Aeroplane Over the Sea" and also, "If You Find Yourself Caught in Love," to be Our Songs. You'd be surprised how frequently "In The Aeroplane Over the Sea" is a "couple song." My parents' song is "Let It Be Me," and they danced to it at their wedding. Occasionally if it comes on when we're home, they will get up and dance. Behold, the power of the "couple song."
Anyway, it looks like J and I have "a song" now, as lame as that might sound. Do you and your person have a song? Do you care about having one? I'm curious, talk to me.