20 April, 2007, 1010 am
Filed under: Music, My Experience with Existence, School

This morning, I am in the most awfully romantic mood ever.  I’m eager for a picnic this weekend, but I’ve been saying that for almost a year, and we all know it will never happen.  Supposing I got my picnic, I’d go to Ukrop’s to get my supplies.  I’d pack either egg salad (sorry, not vegan) or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and bring along some vinegar-y pasta (even if it would give us rancid breath…oh well).  Fruits and vegetables would be in abundance–we’d have strawberries and apple slices and blueberries and blackberries and cherries and mango slices and canteloupe and honeydew…and as for veggies, I’d want cold brocolli and carrots with dip.  For dessert, we might have cupcakes or better yet, bluuueberry muffins!  We’d bring water and whatever other drinks we needed, like Kool-Aid or lemonade or whatever.  We’d have a stereotypical picnic basket and a stereotypical red-and-white checkered blanket to set down under a tree near water and it would be nice and sunny and warm and not windy at all.  I’m not sure where exactly, but surely somewhere grassy and sunny enough to accomodate our purposes.  And I’ve got no idea what the conversation would be like, except intelligent.  We wouldn’t eat everything, I’m sure, and after, we wouldn’t feel fat and guilty.  Just content.  Everything would be reminiscent of something The Postal Service would sing, but we wouldn’t be thinking about it at the moment, so we wouldn’t be embarrassed.  If a filmmaker happened to be making a movie scene out of our picnic, though, he would choose one of their songs.

I’m using Rachael‘s backpack because one of my cats took the liberty of peeing on mine.  Hers is light blue and has “RACHAEL” written on the back, with inscriptions from her many friends all over the place.  It’s gross and I have to deal.  I don’t get why this sort of thing always happens to me and never to her!  I bet it wasn’t one of the cats.  I bet she came in and peed on my backpack herself just to make my life miserable.

Seriously, though, I wish she would give indie a chance.  She’s asked me for recommendations before (via MySpace, and it came about as, “Tell me some music I’d like, BIIIYITCH!”), and I’ve gotten excited just thinking about being able to talk with someone in my very own house about it.  She never took my offers, though, except she borrowed “Illinoise” yesterday just to get “Chicago,” because she only likes singles and songs she could potentially hear in pop culture (and because of something else that would just be mean to mention here).  I don’t blame her, but she’s missing out on self-exploration and realizations and mysteries imbedded in songs.

That’s why I like indie as opposed to pop–pop does sometimes have a pleasing sound, but it’s meaningless.  The lyrics don’t make sense and the songs are just for distribution purposes.  It’s like they won’t broadcast something on the radio if it’s too smart, or has references to history or to literature, but they will broadcast things about sex.  Who decides these things?  Who decides what goes on the radio?  We should rethink some things.  Suppose they took all the pop off the air (except Akon, who isn’t “pop,” not really) and started broadcasting things like Bright Eyes and The Arcade Fire and Of Montreal and Sufjan Stevens and Jason Mraz rarities (before he sold out)?  Would people like it just because it’s easily available?  I’m extremely curious.  And I don’t mean to sound like a resentful nonconformist.

While I’m publicizing my imagination, I might as well throw in there that I’ve always wanted to be the bass girl in a band, except that I can’t play music to save my life, seriously.  Maybe I could just learn piano and settle for being the synth girl?  Kind of like Jenny Lewis!  Only I would never sing because I can’t, which would likely make people reluctant to let me join their band.  And I’d never start a kick-ass solo career, either, and I wasn’t a child star, although technically, since I’m not “legal” yet, I still have a chance!  Wait–I forgot about social phobia.  Oh, well.  I’ll deal.

I’ll also deal until this evening, when I’ll get to see/chill with D-Slice again, after not seeing him ever yesterday.  AIEEE.

By the by, happy 4/20.  I never write my dates like that (I do, personally, but for today only, I think I will.  It’s a good cause!  Well, not really, but it is a day to celebrate.  Kind of.  I don’t think I’ll be joining in festivities.  Whatever.

7 Comments so far
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I bet it wasn’t one of the cats. I bet she came in and peed on my backpack herself just to make my life miserable.


Comment by rachael

and what are you talking about? i didn’t call Sufjan Stevens “chicago.” that’s the song name.

Comment by rachaell15

May I reccomend that you do the world a favor,
and start your own radio station :-)

Comment by Mary Beth

^It’d be nice to hear some insightful music on the radio.

Comment by Mary Beth

HAPPY POT DAY. haha jk. i didn’t know till mallory told me in ES.

Comment by divya

Your blog made me remember what I was going to tell you yesterday!!! I was on my way back to my house from my fathers on Thursday, and he was browsing the radio. And he was going through these channels full of static, and all the sudden I heard a very familiar violin lick. I took control of the radio and checked to see if I had known the song, and sure enough, Four Winds was playing on the radio. It made my day/week. It was on either 97.3 or 93.7, I can’t remember.

Comment by Derek

i love the lyrics you used to title this post.

Comment by thenicholasj

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