we can begin again, shed our skin, let the sunshine in

Funny story about this song. It’s used to great effect in one of the episodes of Veronica Mars I re-watched, and I’ve had those few lines stuck in my head on and off for a few weeks now. So I looked up the soundtrack, and the library system doesn’t have it. So I looked up the artist, who (it turns out) appears on the Roswell soundtrack. It was only after ten minutes of tooling around on YouTube that I remembered that I HAVE the Roswell soundtrack.

It obviously didn’t strike me back in the day when I was watching Roswell for the first time, the way some of the original Roswell songs did (FAIL, DVD PEOPLE. EPIC FAIL). Funny how context changes things, what strikes me. I probably wouldn’t just listen this song on its own (hence forgetting I owned it), but with emotional or artistic context it’s suddenly interesting.

I also spent about ten minutes working out that all of the various ways “where the sun never goes out” could be interpreted basically mean the same thing. Goes out like a lamp; goes out of a house; goes out clubbing (hey, this is Art. It doesn’t have to make sense). Unless you were outside the house, in which case it doesn’t mean the same thing.

Look, there was probably still some residual chai swirling around in the old arteries at that point, okay?

I am happy to report that I am no longer high on chai, because I stopped drinking it after I noticed my hands were actually shaking on Sunday. My paper did get done the next day, with much grumbling and hatred and cheesy conclusion fail. Then I lay around in the path of my new rotating fan, slightly damp and whimpering a lot.

The next day I was walking by 7-Eleven and I had a sudden crazy thought. The words “Shut up and drink your Slurpee, kid” floated through my mind (from Troy in 15 Minutes). Slurpee, I said to myself. I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. Or if I did, it was probably a sip of somebody else’s Cherry Cola something. Curiosity burned. I crossed the street and picked a cup at random. Two minutes later I had my first sip of blue raspberry Slurpee. And you know what, it was AMAZING. I had to go back and get another one after dinner. So cooling! So refreshing! So chemically delicious! Mmmmmm.

( airport ramblings. look, you guys thought it was funny last time, okay? )

I’m going to go say hello to the JE fish before I freeze to death from loneliness and also cold, because HELLO CA IS FREEZING. D:

we can begin again, shed our skin, let the sunshine in

Funny story about this song. It’s used to great effect in one of the episodes of Veronica Mars I re-watched, and I’ve had those few lines stuck in my head on and off for a few weeks now. So I looked up the soundtrack, and the library system doesn’t have it. So I looked up the artist, who (it turns out) appears on the Roswell soundtrack. It was only after ten minutes of tooling around on YouTube that I remembered that I HAVE the Roswell soundtrack.

It obviously didn’t strike me back in the day when I was watching Roswell for the first time, the way some of the original Roswell songs did (FAIL, DVD PEOPLE. EPIC FAIL). Funny how context changes things, what strikes me. I probably wouldn’t just listen this song on its own (hence forgetting I owned it), but with emotional or artistic context it’s suddenly interesting.

I also spent about ten minutes working out that all of the various ways “where the sun never goes out” could be interpreted basically mean the same thing. Goes out like a lamp; goes out of a house; goes out clubbing (hey, this is Art. It doesn’t have to make sense). Unless you were outside the house, in which case it doesn’t mean the same thing.

Look, there was probably still some residual chai swirling around in the old arteries at that point, okay?

I am happy to report that I am no longer high on chai, because I stopped drinking it after I noticed my hands were actually shaking on Sunday. My paper did get done the next day, with much grumbling and hatred and cheesy conclusion fail. Then I lay around in the path of my new rotating fan, slightly damp and whimpering a lot.

The next day I was walking by 7-Eleven and I had a sudden crazy thought. The words “Shut up and drink your Slurpee, kid” floated through my mind (from Troy in 15 Minutes). Slurpee, I said to myself. I don’t think I’ve ever had one of those. Or if I did, it was probably a sip of somebody else’s Cherry Cola something. Curiosity burned. I crossed the street and picked a cup at random. Two minutes later I had my first sip of blue raspberry Slurpee. And you know what, it was AMAZING. I had to go back and get another one after dinner. So cooling! So refreshing! So chemically delicious! Mmmmmm.

( airport ramblings. look, you guys thought it was funny last time, okay? )

I’m going to go say hello to the JE fish before I freeze to death from loneliness and also cold, because HELLO CA IS FREEZING. D: