This Is Nothing

Insane Graduate School Edition

Sunday, January 26, 2003

Caught by suprise

When you stumble onto a wonderful song, it's a beautiful thing. You can't really go searching for it. Well, you can listen to alot of songs, but usually you aren't looking for it when you find it.

I don't know how other people feel about good songs, but I know, for me, every good song is a new anthem for living, you know? There's something special about it that gets into the pores of your life, and I know that whenever I hear that song again, sometime in the future, I'll remember that part of life it stood as soundtrack to. Like, "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd reminds me of my band days in junior high, running around the music room with my friends and singing. "Selfless, Cold, and Composed" by Ben Folds Five was playing the night on the car radio when I drove around with Evil Scott, and although I despise him, I love the song because it was a nice night when we sang along to the radio together. Moxy Fruvous and Blood Hound Gang. . . that's freshman year hanging out in Dave and Sam's room in Miller. "Ahead by Century" by the Tragically Hip? That's Dave playing with that band he was in early on, in Drury Hall. I got so mad because the sound wasn't too good and I could barely hear him sing. . . there's a whole slew of songs that belong in the Dave section. Then there's all of Linkin Park "Hybrid Theory", which basically I played waaay too much last spring semester. . .

Well, maybe the song I just found isn't that sweepingly great. Heck, not much interesting is going on right now, so it won't have some vivid memory attached to it, likely. But it makes me happy, and I want to hear it over and over again. So here's to you, "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk" sung by the lovely Rufus Wainright: you've made sunday a better place.

Cigarettes and chocolate milk
These are just a couple of my cravings
Everything it seems I like's a little bit stronger
A little bit thicker, a little bit harmful for me

If I should buy jellybeans
Have to eat them all in just one sitting
Everything it seems I like's a little bit sweeter
A little bit fatter, a little bit harmful for me

And then there's those other things
Which for several reasons we won't mention
Everything about 'em is a little bit stranger, a little bit harder
A little bit deadly . . .