Soundtracks.

Stemming from my recent obsession with hating cliches and then employing them in every aspect of my existence, I was on the horn today with my lady KayTay (BEST FRIENDS FOREVER!!) and we got to talking about how our lives could literally be laid out in music tracks:

Me: "How come there aren't guidance counselors for adults? Sometimes I need someone around to tell me I'm fucking it up. Someone who knows me..."

Katie: "Do you need, like, your own...personal...Jesus?"

Me: "Someone to hear my prayers..."

Katie: "Someone who cares."

Me: "DAMN IT!!"

There is something that compels me to believe, during the deepest depths of self-pity, that my specific variety of pain is completely unique to my own brand of sorrow. Turns out that that is complete bullshit. And to prove it, I need only tune into whatever classic or easy listening rock stations are available. Sooner or later, I find myself singing into my fist (like I'm the only one?), thinking, "You know, love really IS a battle field."

Seriously though, it's funny to think about how worked up I can get about something because it seems so isolated to me alone, but then there will be some song (sometimes an unlikely one) that will articulate perfectly whatever emotion I am convinced that no one but me has ever had. Not to mention songs that express emotions I've never known and yet I am completely rattled by. It's this sort of wonderful absurdity that music (sometimes really popular music) can deliver parts of your life to you in a way that still makes it feel like yours alone. It's crazy.

Katie and I went on to ponder whether or not we become involved in unwarranted (and often unnecessary) romantic drama because it makes for a good soundtrack. There is ALWAYS music associated with relationships and the more dramatic the relationship the wider the song selection can be. I mean, if you're in a relationship that has known no turmoil or darkness then the soundtrack is going to be mostly love songs with happy endings and songs that remind you of certain times you were together, blah blah boring. If there is some drama in the scene and sometimes you really like each other and other times you want to rip each other's faces off (a real soundtrack plus if these instances take place at a show) then the music starts to get a little more interesting. Things really get crazy if someone gets really, really hurt, or some raunchy cheating scandal is involved. That's the real moneymaker. I mean, as far as I am concerned, if a relationship ends and I am not cosmically forced to blast Dylan's "Don't Think Twice," then I was probably never really interested in the first place.

If I had to, I could reduce the skeleton of my year down to a few songs, some not even good, but relevant none the less. At the beginning of the year, I was in love. Stupid in love, like 'Open Arms' by Journey in love. Love is a real sonofabitch though, and before I knew it, it was kicking my ass. And winning. So, I turned to country music (and bourbon) for comfort, The Star Room Boys, 'Whiskey and You' ("and when the bottle runs empty, I'll be back feeling blue/But whiskey's still winning between whiskey and you") was, needless to say, on heavy rotation at all times. Eventually I had to get my shit together and that was accomplished with the help of a little band that I like to call Whitesnake who sing a little song called, "Here I Go Again on My Own." Maybe you've heard of it? If you know what it means to walk alone down the lonely street of dreams, then you probably have. For awhile I lived with Katie who would play me songs at top volume from her room down the hall, The Pretenders or Elton John jams, "Rolling like thun-DAH, under the covers!!!" Once summer rolled around, and there were some crazy changes on the horizon, M. Ward's 'Vincent o'Brien' was making a whole lot of sense to me ("I hope you get yourself together soon," yeah, no shit). Then I was hitting the road to move to Austin, and a road trip naturally implies Springsteen and Dylan, 'Born to Run' and 'Shelter from the Storm,' respectively; not to mention a little Willy Nelson, I won't bother naming the song. The fall was marked by change, insecurity, and homesickness so you could pretty much choose a song from any Mountain Goats album and add it to this year's soundtrack, but if I had to pick one, I'd say 'Balance.' There were moments of optimism, too, so I'd have to throw in a 'Now' by Grandaddy. I think I would sum things up with 'Sweet Thing' by Van Morrison because of how the weather has been here and because it reminds me of Chapel Hill, where I will be going in a couple of days, and because I won't stop playing it. And that's just off the top of my head. I could probably compile an extensive list of songs that were somehow crucial to my year. One's that would fit snugly even in the darkest little moments.

Maybe for 2005, I will put together a soundtrack and see if I can get my life to follow it.

This week, I am obsessed with this Built to Spill lyric, "And you'd better not be angry and you'd better not be sad. You'd better just enjoy the luxury of sympathy, if that's a luxury you have." Fuck yes.

Lessons.

As the semester winds down, I sit back to think of what I have actually learned this fall:

1. I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever take another class that requires me to be a part of a group project. Group projects are for children who need to learn how to share, they are not for quasi-adults who are well aware that they are incapable of it. I can't remember the last time that I turned in a group project that I felt proud of. "In the real world, you have to work in groups all the time..," yeah, and in the real world there is a boss who delegates responsibility and if you don't pull your weight you get demoted AND if you do it well you get paid. Don't even try it with that shit about the real world, I am not hearing it.

2. It is a normalized practice of higher education to assign more reading than could possibly be covered in class. This will most likely NEVER change, so it's not even worth bitching about... it just is.

3. The anticipation of getting the work done is far worse than actually diving into the work and doing it. Once even the slightest amount of work is done the blurry silhouettes of relief and accomplishment appear on the horizon. From there it's just a matter of steady moving and slick maneuvering until you're counting down the hours to your next drunk.

4. Blogs, friendster, and freewillastrology (not to mention the entirety of the internet) are AMAZING tools for procrastination. Having a computer at your fingertips for writing papers is awesome, having the internet at your fingertips when you are supposed to be writing papers is pure evil.

5. Good people are everywhere. And they are accessible. I knew this before this fall, but it has definitely been driven home as the gospel these last few months.

6. Time heals all wounds (DAMN CLICHES!!). I gotta say, it's sort of true. That's not to say that you won't be left with a burly scar that you can point at and bitch about constantly though. Time doesn't heal cynicism. But cracking up helps.

7. Don't shit where you eat. Period.

I have exactly one full day of video editing (grrrrr), one 3 question take home exam, and one 5 page essay (that I will pull from my arse) left to do before I have one semester down. Then I am going to get drunk for a month. The end.