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cosmolinguistJanuary: And while Napster or iTunes can get you (almost) any song you want, including a lot you'll never hear on the radio, I think that's too easy. You don't get the time of tedious disappointment when a song you thought was played 60 times a day doesn't show up when you want it to (and the opportunity this gives you to think about the song and how much you do really like it, it's the best song ever!), or the agonizing moment when you hear the click that means the cassette ends before the song does, or the relentless DJ chatter messing up the beginning or ending of your song. But struggle is important! Struggle demands perseverance, and pereverance builds character.
February: At first I was hearing it wrong. I thought the first line sounded like "If I could do just one of everything I'd be happy." That sounded like a good idea to me, though admittedly it doesn't quite scan and also makes less sense than what I now know are the words actually being sung. The reality is slightly less appealing, but still good.
March: I worried about "the distance sure to appear between me and my parents if I leave. They drive me crazy, but I do love them a lot and worry about them and want them to be happy. And I know from experience that nostalgia and guilt attack me when i'm gone for very long."
The fangs of nostalgia sink in not only for my family, but for my friends as well. But differently. My friends may be more fun, but my parents are constant; I've known them and dealt with them all my life. Not always happily, of course ... but when I'm gone I forget the bad stuff and miss the good stuff.
More true now than it ever was. But at least it was always true; I'm glad of that.
April: a boy on a train sang me a song that I like.
May: I mean, last week I read about some guy who beat up another guy he recognized as having recently commited the cardinal sin of Queue Jumping. Imagine! He just saw this guy in the street and pummeled him until he had to pay a couple hundred quid in reparations. I don't think that sort of thing happens where people stand in lines.
June: I was exhausted, but in a happy way, a nice satisfied way. And I didn't really think there was anything wrong with hearing “Nightswimming” as we shuffled through the line to get to the tram platform and hearing people around me mumbling the words with Mr. Stipe. I was probably one of them. “These things, they go away / Replaced by everyday.”
It was a close race between this one and the one about the captial of Burrito, y'know.
July: hate piracy is a dangerous phrase for me, because it makes me think Is that like hate crime? and then my brain is off and running with the notion of a creaky old wooden boat, ragged jolly roger nailed to the mast, populated by smelly guys with bandannas and hooks for hands who go around saying "arr! we be pirates because we don't like people of certain races, ethnicities, religions, or sexual orientations!"
August: And while sometimes it might be nice to forget the things that ended badly or just don't seem like much a part of you any more, as tempting as it may be to revise your own history to fit your current outlook, it's ultimately better to realize that your life, like Elizabeth's tattoos, is a work in progress.
September: I'm no breadwinner, I just sometimes make the sandwiches. I am here not for anything I can do, but just who I am. It's sometimes difficult to wrap my brain around this delightful notion.
October: They kept talking about "servicing the telescope," and I kept wanting to giggle. Maybe I'm the only person so titilated by astronomy that I'd think such dirty thoughts.
November: We are only so sad that you are gone because we were so happy that you were here.
This sentence has been running through my head, many times a day, ever since I first thought of it.
And December only has three entries so far, so I'll not bother with it now. All three are staggeringly well-written, of course, so it'd be hard to choose a single excerpt anyway.
February: At first I was hearing it wrong. I thought the first line sounded like "If I could do just one of everything I'd be happy." That sounded like a good idea to me, though admittedly it doesn't quite scan and also makes less sense than what I now know are the words actually being sung. The reality is slightly less appealing, but still good.
March: I worried about "the distance sure to appear between me and my parents if I leave. They drive me crazy, but I do love them a lot and worry about them and want them to be happy. And I know from experience that nostalgia and guilt attack me when i'm gone for very long."
The fangs of nostalgia sink in not only for my family, but for my friends as well. But differently. My friends may be more fun, but my parents are constant; I've known them and dealt with them all my life. Not always happily, of course ... but when I'm gone I forget the bad stuff and miss the good stuff.
More true now than it ever was. But at least it was always true; I'm glad of that.
April: a boy on a train sang me a song that I like.
May: I mean, last week I read about some guy who beat up another guy he recognized as having recently commited the cardinal sin of Queue Jumping. Imagine! He just saw this guy in the street and pummeled him until he had to pay a couple hundred quid in reparations. I don't think that sort of thing happens where people stand in lines.
June: I was exhausted, but in a happy way, a nice satisfied way. And I didn't really think there was anything wrong with hearing “Nightswimming” as we shuffled through the line to get to the tram platform and hearing people around me mumbling the words with Mr. Stipe. I was probably one of them. “These things, they go away / Replaced by everyday.”
It was a close race between this one and the one about the captial of Burrito, y'know.
July: hate piracy is a dangerous phrase for me, because it makes me think Is that like hate crime? and then my brain is off and running with the notion of a creaky old wooden boat, ragged jolly roger nailed to the mast, populated by smelly guys with bandannas and hooks for hands who go around saying "arr! we be pirates because we don't like people of certain races, ethnicities, religions, or sexual orientations!"
August: And while sometimes it might be nice to forget the things that ended badly or just don't seem like much a part of you any more, as tempting as it may be to revise your own history to fit your current outlook, it's ultimately better to realize that your life, like Elizabeth's tattoos, is a work in progress.
September: I'm no breadwinner, I just sometimes make the sandwiches. I am here not for anything I can do, but just who I am. It's sometimes difficult to wrap my brain around this delightful notion.
October: They kept talking about "servicing the telescope," and I kept wanting to giggle. Maybe I'm the only person so titilated by astronomy that I'd think such dirty thoughts.
November: We are only so sad that you are gone because we were so happy that you were here.
This sentence has been running through my head, many times a day, ever since I first thought of it.
And December only has three entries so far, so I'll not bother with it now. All three are staggeringly well-written, of course, so it'd be hard to choose a single excerpt anyway.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-07 05:43 am (UTC)Though the July quote, about "Hate piracy" made me laugh a lot. Thank you, Holly *hugs*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-07 06:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-07 06:37 am (UTC)Ayup.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 01:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 02:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-07 08:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-07 05:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-07 03:20 pm (UTC)I don't think your version of the lemming is cheating, by the way, but I'm all about changing lemming rules anyway. :) Memes SHOULD mutate -- that's part of the theory, by my understanding.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 12:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 01:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-08 07:40 am (UTC)