It's my birthday too. (That's a Beatles song for all of you sad, lonely, McCartneyless folks).
As always, it doesn't feel like my birthday. I'm twenty-one today. Huh. Interesting. Now please excuse me while I go back to alternating between whining in despair and attempting to cram one more item into my already bulging suitcase.
The one thing I will say about being twenty-one is that it's my last big birthday for a long while. At least until thirty, I'd say. And it's certainly the last birthday truly associated with being a teenager/young adult. After this it will just be another year, ho hum. No more big-deal kid birthdays for me. No more exclamations about how old I'm getting (because after a certain point, of course, such exclamations change from being complimentary to being downright insulting). Pretty soon my birthday cake will no longer be decorated with a candle for every year of my life. There'll be a candle for every five years, every decade. Fire safety comes before Grandma's pride, you know.
I'm afraid I can't say a whole lot about Austria right now because (see above) I still have packing to do, and it's late, and I'm exhausted from my last 4 a.m. shift at Target. I will say that I'm currently fairly frightened, and that I feel like a freshman all over again, and that if I didn't know deep down that I'm going to have a wonderful time, I would probably be cowering under my covers right now (although that still might come later on tonight).
The Wordpress blog is still a no-go. I haven't had the time (nor the patience) today to fiddle with it again, so it'll just have to wait until I'm actually sitting on the streets of Salzburg. Maybe it will work then?
Until then, I'll be journaling, I'll be thinking of you guys, and I'll be twenty-one.
Stay gold.
Showing posts with label The Beatles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Beatles. Show all posts
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Important Parts of Last Night
Let me tell you about last night.
Last night was Harry Potter (oh boy, don't tell me you didn't see this one coming).
And it was magnificent.
I mean, there were parts that made me shudder and wonder to myself what the heck were the directors thinking I don't understand why they couldn't stay true to the book here why are they jumping off a cliff good Lord why is Snape clutching a corpse this is bordering on disturbing why didn't they show Percy's big entrance that was one of my favorite parts oh my gosh Ginny please go away you make me sick sometimes.
Or something along those lines.
But I think over all, the movie, just like the book, had the ending that it needed and deserved.
That's really the most important thing, right?
There were other important parts of last night, though.
Like the feeling of complete panic that swept through the theater when the 3D glasses weren't working and everything was blurry. I was literally almost in cardiac arrest when The Man Behind the Curtain finally adjusted the projector correctly and the trailers came into focus.
Like when the Weasley family was mourning Fred and everything was quiet until I began to hear sniffing sounds coming from all around me. The entire theater was crying. The man next to me was crying. The ladywiththemostobnoxiousvoicei'veeverheard behind me was crying (loudly). And I suddenly felt like laughing. Until Harry began his walk towards the Forbidden Forest. Then I stopped laughing and started sniffing myself. I actually fogged up my own 3D glasses and had to wipe them. Not being a glasses-wearer, that was a new experience for me.
Like taking pictures in the lobby of people dressed up as Patronuses and Veela and Freds with bandaged ears and two twin boys with hair sprayed red.
Like when my friend and I had to visit the facilities before the movie. We waited in line for about 10 minutes before we finally got stalls. I was just trying to calculate what my odds of catching an STD from the toilet seat were when I heard my friend yell to me (from across the lavatory): "Holly! We flush ourselves in!" The entire bathroom erupted in echoing, nerdtastic giggles.
Like after the movie, when I decided not to wait for Bea (the GPS) to 'acquire satellite.' I thought I could manage to get home by myself. A sort of deluded Harriet Tubman, I convinced myself that I could find my way North. Apparently, I couldn't. I ended up goodnessknowswhere at 3 in the morning making illegal uturns in quiet neighborhoods and pleading with Bea to help me. She eventually did. Then the problem became keeping myself awake.
Like when I sang every Beatles song I know (which is, forgive me, an awful lot of Beatles songs) at the top of my lungs in order to keep myself awake. I was so tired that my voice was scratchy and pathetic but I made it home okay nonetheless. The dogs were happy to see me.
Yes, it's over. Yes, I'll never see another Harry Potter movie in a theater (unless I go to see this one again, which, let's face it, is highly likely). Yes, before the movie started, I was dreading it starting a little bit. Everyone was. Harry Potter began when we were all young. People have waited for Hogwarts letters, people have waited for the next book, the next movie.
But the waiting is over. It's all here.
I have a Harry Potter book on my lap right now. The Prisoner of Azkaban, because it's my favorite. And I'm thinking about how different it is every time I read these books. How there's always something new. Not because the books have changed, but because I have. And I will.
And as long as there's still that, I don't think anything has ended at all.
Last night was Harry Potter (oh boy, don't tell me you didn't see this one coming).
And it was magnificent.
I mean, there were parts that made me shudder and wonder to myself what the heck were the directors thinking I don't understand why they couldn't stay true to the book here why are they jumping off a cliff good Lord why is Snape clutching a corpse this is bordering on disturbing why didn't they show Percy's big entrance that was one of my favorite parts oh my gosh Ginny please go away you make me sick sometimes.
Or something along those lines.
But I think over all, the movie, just like the book, had the ending that it needed and deserved.
That's really the most important thing, right?
There were other important parts of last night, though.
Like the feeling of complete panic that swept through the theater when the 3D glasses weren't working and everything was blurry. I was literally almost in cardiac arrest when The Man Behind the Curtain finally adjusted the projector correctly and the trailers came into focus.
Like when the Weasley family was mourning Fred and everything was quiet until I began to hear sniffing sounds coming from all around me. The entire theater was crying. The man next to me was crying. The ladywiththemostobnoxiousvoicei'veeverheard behind me was crying (loudly). And I suddenly felt like laughing. Until Harry began his walk towards the Forbidden Forest. Then I stopped laughing and started sniffing myself. I actually fogged up my own 3D glasses and had to wipe them. Not being a glasses-wearer, that was a new experience for me.
Like taking pictures in the lobby of people dressed up as Patronuses and Veela and Freds with bandaged ears and two twin boys with hair sprayed red.
Like when my friend and I had to visit the facilities before the movie. We waited in line for about 10 minutes before we finally got stalls. I was just trying to calculate what my odds of catching an STD from the toilet seat were when I heard my friend yell to me (from across the lavatory): "Holly! We flush ourselves in!" The entire bathroom erupted in echoing, nerdtastic giggles.
Like after the movie, when I decided not to wait for Bea (the GPS) to 'acquire satellite.' I thought I could manage to get home by myself. A sort of deluded Harriet Tubman, I convinced myself that I could find my way North. Apparently, I couldn't. I ended up goodnessknowswhere at 3 in the morning making illegal uturns in quiet neighborhoods and pleading with Bea to help me. She eventually did. Then the problem became keeping myself awake.
Like when I sang every Beatles song I know (which is, forgive me, an awful lot of Beatles songs) at the top of my lungs in order to keep myself awake. I was so tired that my voice was scratchy and pathetic but I made it home okay nonetheless. The dogs were happy to see me.
Yes, it's over. Yes, I'll never see another Harry Potter movie in a theater (unless I go to see this one again, which, let's face it, is highly likely). Yes, before the movie started, I was dreading it starting a little bit. Everyone was. Harry Potter began when we were all young. People have waited for Hogwarts letters, people have waited for the next book, the next movie.
But the waiting is over. It's all here.
I have a Harry Potter book on my lap right now. The Prisoner of Azkaban, because it's my favorite. And I'm thinking about how different it is every time I read these books. How there's always something new. Not because the books have changed, but because I have. And I will.
And as long as there's still that, I don't think anything has ended at all.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Imagine Again
Thirty years ago today John Lennon was shot and killed in New York City.
Earlier that day, Lennon had kindly stopped to sign an autograph for his murderer, who traveled all the way from Hawaii just to do the deed.
John Lennon was shot in the back by that man, who carried a copy of The Catcher in the Rye.
The other day, I came across a few quotes by Paul McCartney about John Lennon:
"I definitely did look up to John. We all looked up to John. He was older and he was very much the leader; he was the quickest wit and the smartest."
(when asked if he missed sitting knee to knee with John Lennon, writing songs) "Are you kidding? Of course I bloody miss it. I'm sitting in the room with John, him with me. Believe me, we're both pretty good editors. We were young turks. We were smartasses. And we did some amazing things. I would love him to be here now, saying, 'Don't bloody do that!' – or, more wonderfully, 'That's great!' So yeah, I really had the greatest writing partner."
And I decided to look for other places/ways John Lennon is remembered:
Here (Strawberry Fields, NYC)
Here (Imagine Peace Tower, Iceland)
Here
Here (A CD of my mom's; I grew up listening to it)
Here (The movie Nowhere Boy, about a young John Lennon)
Here (The Beatles)
And Here (John Lennon and his widow, Yoko Ono)
Finally, I just have to post the lyrics to that beautiful, beautiful song itself:
Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
Earlier that day, Lennon had kindly stopped to sign an autograph for his murderer, who traveled all the way from Hawaii just to do the deed.
John Lennon was shot in the back by that man, who carried a copy of The Catcher in the Rye.
The other day, I came across a few quotes by Paul McCartney about John Lennon:
"I definitely did look up to John. We all looked up to John. He was older and he was very much the leader; he was the quickest wit and the smartest."
(when asked if he missed sitting knee to knee with John Lennon, writing songs) "Are you kidding? Of course I bloody miss it. I'm sitting in the room with John, him with me. Believe me, we're both pretty good editors. We were young turks. We were smartasses. And we did some amazing things. I would love him to be here now, saying, 'Don't bloody do that!' – or, more wonderfully, 'That's great!' So yeah, I really had the greatest writing partner."
And I decided to look for other places/ways John Lennon is remembered:
Here (Strawberry Fields, NYC)
Here (Imagine Peace Tower, Iceland)
Here
Here (A CD of my mom's; I grew up listening to it)
Here (The movie Nowhere Boy, about a young John Lennon)
Here (The Beatles)
And Here (John Lennon and his widow, Yoko Ono)
Finally, I just have to post the lyrics to that beautiful, beautiful song itself:
Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...
Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...
You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Things I'm Thankful For
Happy Thanksgiving. I recall last year (or was it the year before?) I didn't want to talk about Thanksgiving. Not because I don't love it, but because there didn't seem to be anything new to say about it. Same old food, family, gratitude, etc. Rinse and repeat.
The thing is, though, this year the repeat part is what I'm especially thankful for. I'm thankful that we have a tradition like Thanksgiving that is the same year after year.
Right now I'm laying on my back in my old comfy bed. My laptop is propped on my knees. My throat hurts like the dickens. So does my head. Of course I haven't had so much as a sniffle the whole semester at school, but the instant I was home I got sick. So it goes.
I'm thankful for Nyquil. Is it okay for one to be thankful for drugs?
Other things I'm thankful for (besides the obvious (but still important) friends family health food shelter etc):
1. Sweats
2. Books
3. Cousins that aren't so little anymore
4. Dogs
5. Paul McCartney
6. Optimism
7. Garfield comics
8. The color blue
9. Strangers who smile
10. Part time jobs
11. Snow
Goodnight everyone. I'll see you tomorrow for some mad Black Friday shopping. I'll be the red-eyed one toting the Kleenex box. Hopefully I'll be smiling.
The thing is, though, this year the repeat part is what I'm especially thankful for. I'm thankful that we have a tradition like Thanksgiving that is the same year after year.
Right now I'm laying on my back in my old comfy bed. My laptop is propped on my knees. My throat hurts like the dickens. So does my head. Of course I haven't had so much as a sniffle the whole semester at school, but the instant I was home I got sick. So it goes.
I'm thankful for Nyquil. Is it okay for one to be thankful for drugs?
Other things I'm thankful for (besides the obvious (but still important) friends family health food shelter etc):
1. Sweats
2. Books
3. Cousins that aren't so little anymore
4. Dogs
5. Paul McCartney
6. Optimism
7. Garfield comics
8. The color blue
9. Strangers who smile
10. Part time jobs
11. Snow
Goodnight everyone. I'll see you tomorrow for some mad Black Friday shopping. I'll be the red-eyed one toting the Kleenex box. Hopefully I'll be smiling.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Four Parts: Quote, Deep Thought, Deep Quote, and Random List
We begin with a quote:
"Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin and they end with no lasting memory made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life."
We proceed with a deep thought stemming from the above quote:
Today was Monday, July 26, 2010. My cousin Kara's 10th birthday.
A lot of things happened to me today, most of which were probably unremarkable.
A mosquito bit me as I rode in the backseat of my mom's minivan. I slapped at at and it disappeared.
I went to the dentist.
I went to the Dairy Queen with my mother, sister, and my cousins Kara and Rachel to celebrate Kara's birthday.
Back at home, I ate dinner with my family, and then settled down to watch 500 Days of Summer.
Mundane stuff, I thought at the time. I still think now. But you know, every second of today I was alive and doing something. Every second was a second I'll never ever have again. That mosquito slap could have blown my chance at true love. That trip to the dentist could have saved me from being hit by a car and killed. If I had watched a different movie, I probably would be posting about something very different right now.
We continue with an original deep quote stemming from the above deep thought:
Life is a culmination of all the seconds we have; how we spend them, how we don't spend them, and how we plan on spending them differently tomorrow.
We end with a list that has nothing to do with the above quotes or thoughts:
My 10 Favorite Songs of All Time:
1. We're Going to Be Friends (The White Stripes)
2. I'm Gonna Be (The Proclaimers)
3. Vagabond (Wolfmother)
4. Classical Gas (Mason Williams)
5. All My Days (Alexi Murdoch)
6. Change Your Mind (The Killers)
7. Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show (Neil Diamond)
8. In My Life (The Beatles)
9. Breakfast At Tiffany's (Deep Blue Something)
10.If I Ever Leave This World Alive (Flogging Molly)
"Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin and they end with no lasting memory made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life."
We proceed with a deep thought stemming from the above quote:
Today was Monday, July 26, 2010. My cousin Kara's 10th birthday.
A lot of things happened to me today, most of which were probably unremarkable.
A mosquito bit me as I rode in the backseat of my mom's minivan. I slapped at at and it disappeared.
I went to the dentist.
I went to the Dairy Queen with my mother, sister, and my cousins Kara and Rachel to celebrate Kara's birthday.
Back at home, I ate dinner with my family, and then settled down to watch 500 Days of Summer.
Mundane stuff, I thought at the time. I still think now. But you know, every second of today I was alive and doing something. Every second was a second I'll never ever have again. That mosquito slap could have blown my chance at true love. That trip to the dentist could have saved me from being hit by a car and killed. If I had watched a different movie, I probably would be posting about something very different right now.
We continue with an original deep quote stemming from the above deep thought:
Life is a culmination of all the seconds we have; how we spend them, how we don't spend them, and how we plan on spending them differently tomorrow.
We end with a list that has nothing to do with the above quotes or thoughts:
My 10 Favorite Songs of All Time:
1. We're Going to Be Friends (The White Stripes)
2. I'm Gonna Be (The Proclaimers)
3. Vagabond (Wolfmother)
4. Classical Gas (Mason Williams)
5. All My Days (Alexi Murdoch)
6. Change Your Mind (The Killers)
7. Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show (Neil Diamond)
8. In My Life (The Beatles)
9. Breakfast At Tiffany's (Deep Blue Something)
10.If I Ever Leave This World Alive (Flogging Molly)
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Imagine
I feel like the occasion of my homecoming calls for a particularly epic post. I'm officially done with classes for about 3 months. I'm no longer a freshman in college. I don't think I'm quite a sophomore yet; I'm a firm believer in summer as a transitional phase. I'm in between. And that, my friends, is a good place to be right now.
My sister was telling about this mean girl she goes to high school with. Apparently this girl was talking about Amy with another girl when Amy was just a few feet away.
(brief tangent) You know, I hate sibling stereotypes. I've met younger children who aren't spoiled brats, and I've met older children who prefer to be followers. But one stereotype that I will fight for to the death is the oldest child's right to go after anyone who hurts their little sister (or brother).
I am literally this close to marching down to that school tomorrow morning and giving that girl a good talking to. You know what I'd say? I'd say that high school is a fantasy. It's a little world that teenagers get to live in for four years. Maybe you think that who you are in high school is the person you'll be for the rest of your life. Maybe you think that if you're popular and feared and perfect you'll stay that way forever. Well, you're wrong. Because while things like that may fly while you're 18 and under, in college they don't. In the workforce they don't. If you're mean to people, if you're fake and lazy and rude, you will not get a job. You will not make friends. You will go nowhere in life. I suppose that sometimes the villains do win, but only temporarily. It's good people who really make it in the world, and if you can be as smart as my sister and figure that out early in life, then you'll do a lot better for yourself.
I suppose I just made one of those corny speeches that the earnest, yet naive protagonist makes at the end of the movie. Everyone's jaws drop, and the meanie slinks away to cry in the bathroom.
Well, my life is not a movie (as I've pointed out on numerous occasions), and I'm generally not a particularly gutsy person. But if this girl hurts my sister one more time, she's going to get an earful.
Okay, rant over. I'm terribly sorry. I know that you were expecting some sort of exhaulted poem about how good it is to be home, and how I'm sitting in my own bed right now, and how tomorrow I'm going to unpack and arrange my room and start my summer reading. Unfortunately, I'm too tired to write poetry. I'll let my friend John Lennon do it for me.
Imagine there's no heaven,
it's easy if you try.
No hell below us,
above us only sky.
Imagine all the people
living for today.
I know that everyone has heard Imagine a million times, but I don't think everyone realizes what an extraordinary song it really is. Paul McCartney is my favorite Beatle forever, but I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for John Lennon. And Yoko too.
My sister was telling about this mean girl she goes to high school with. Apparently this girl was talking about Amy with another girl when Amy was just a few feet away.
(brief tangent) You know, I hate sibling stereotypes. I've met younger children who aren't spoiled brats, and I've met older children who prefer to be followers. But one stereotype that I will fight for to the death is the oldest child's right to go after anyone who hurts their little sister (or brother).
I am literally this close to marching down to that school tomorrow morning and giving that girl a good talking to. You know what I'd say? I'd say that high school is a fantasy. It's a little world that teenagers get to live in for four years. Maybe you think that who you are in high school is the person you'll be for the rest of your life. Maybe you think that if you're popular and feared and perfect you'll stay that way forever. Well, you're wrong. Because while things like that may fly while you're 18 and under, in college they don't. In the workforce they don't. If you're mean to people, if you're fake and lazy and rude, you will not get a job. You will not make friends. You will go nowhere in life. I suppose that sometimes the villains do win, but only temporarily. It's good people who really make it in the world, and if you can be as smart as my sister and figure that out early in life, then you'll do a lot better for yourself.
I suppose I just made one of those corny speeches that the earnest, yet naive protagonist makes at the end of the movie. Everyone's jaws drop, and the meanie slinks away to cry in the bathroom.
Well, my life is not a movie (as I've pointed out on numerous occasions), and I'm generally not a particularly gutsy person. But if this girl hurts my sister one more time, she's going to get an earful.
Okay, rant over. I'm terribly sorry. I know that you were expecting some sort of exhaulted poem about how good it is to be home, and how I'm sitting in my own bed right now, and how tomorrow I'm going to unpack and arrange my room and start my summer reading. Unfortunately, I'm too tired to write poetry. I'll let my friend John Lennon do it for me.
Imagine there's no heaven,
it's easy if you try.
No hell below us,
above us only sky.
Imagine all the people
living for today.
I know that everyone has heard Imagine a million times, but I don't think everyone realizes what an extraordinary song it really is. Paul McCartney is my favorite Beatle forever, but I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for John Lennon. And Yoko too.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
I Want to Tell You
I want to tell you
My head is filled with things to say
Sometimes I wish I knew you well,
Then I could speak my mind and tell you
Maybe you'd understand
is the song I'm currently listening to.
What I'm thinking about, however, is how wonderful this weekend has been, and how my 19 year old self has temporarily disappeared. I've played on the playgrounds of Morris this weekend. I've walked the streets, laughing. I've played kick the can and freeze tag. I've fallen, getting grass stains all over the legs of my jeans. I've seen UFO's shoot across the sky, lit up like stars. I've gotten sweaty and dirty, and my hair has come loose from its ponytail. I've run, I've jumped, I've climbed, I've been outside morning to night. I've gone to bed exhausted. I've had the time of my life, in a few words.
Now I suppose I have to go back to the semi-seriousness of studying, and of being a mature college student.
Can't wait for next weekend, though.
My head is filled with things to say
Sometimes I wish I knew you well,
Then I could speak my mind and tell you
Maybe you'd understand
is the song I'm currently listening to.
What I'm thinking about, however, is how wonderful this weekend has been, and how my 19 year old self has temporarily disappeared. I've played on the playgrounds of Morris this weekend. I've walked the streets, laughing. I've played kick the can and freeze tag. I've fallen, getting grass stains all over the legs of my jeans. I've seen UFO's shoot across the sky, lit up like stars. I've gotten sweaty and dirty, and my hair has come loose from its ponytail. I've run, I've jumped, I've climbed, I've been outside morning to night. I've gone to bed exhausted. I've had the time of my life, in a few words.
Now I suppose I have to go back to the semi-seriousness of studying, and of being a mature college student.
Can't wait for next weekend, though.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Oh the Humanities!
I would first like to address the name of this blog. I'm incredibly sorry, but I am still unhappy with it despite the fact that it was taken from the title of a Beatles song. I have a feeling that I'm making this titling task harder than it really is, but I just can't seem to come up with a name that fits my entire blog.
Right now I'm staring at the blue banner at the top of the screen where "Eight Days a Week" is sprawled in presumptuous white letters. I hate this title.
Anyway, whilst my internal battle continues, I suspect you're looking for fairer content on this lovely March evening. I could mention that I read my first Dickens today. Don't laugh, but it was A Christmas Carol. It was an assignment for my Brit. Lit. class, and I have to say that I enjoyed it immensely, though I thought it took Scrooge an awfully long time to figure out that the corpse in Christmas Yet to Come was his. Why he dies, I cannot say. Is it possible that Scooginess is enough to kill someone? I guess so.
I was also entertained by a footnote that explained Dickens' obsession with spontaneous combustion. What a strange thing to be obsessed with. It was 19th century England, however. What else was there but rain, thick novels and spontaneous combustion?
On a different note, I rediscovered R.E.M the other day. I was browsing the 'recommended for you' section of itunes when I happened upon an R.E.M. song. I played a snippet to see if it was worth buying, and I recognized it! My Mom has their CD, I think. I remember dancing to it when I was really little.
Conclusions?
1) I may have to call this blog "Hey You"
2) Cool points for Mom
3) Hello, Dickens
Right now I'm staring at the blue banner at the top of the screen where "Eight Days a Week" is sprawled in presumptuous white letters. I hate this title.
Anyway, whilst my internal battle continues, I suspect you're looking for fairer content on this lovely March evening. I could mention that I read my first Dickens today. Don't laugh, but it was A Christmas Carol. It was an assignment for my Brit. Lit. class, and I have to say that I enjoyed it immensely, though I thought it took Scrooge an awfully long time to figure out that the corpse in Christmas Yet to Come was his. Why he dies, I cannot say. Is it possible that Scooginess is enough to kill someone? I guess so.
I was also entertained by a footnote that explained Dickens' obsession with spontaneous combustion. What a strange thing to be obsessed with. It was 19th century England, however. What else was there but rain, thick novels and spontaneous combustion?
On a different note, I rediscovered R.E.M the other day. I was browsing the 'recommended for you' section of itunes when I happened upon an R.E.M. song. I played a snippet to see if it was worth buying, and I recognized it! My Mom has their CD, I think. I remember dancing to it when I was really little.
Conclusions?
1) I may have to call this blog "Hey You"
2) Cool points for Mom
3) Hello, Dickens
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