cad
2:41 p.m. on 2005-10-08
The Decemberists' "The Mariner's Revenge" has been gnawing fiendishly at my squishy brain for five days straight. I have been counting the days, because it is really quite excruciating. Damn you Colin Meloy! Damn you and your hooks' sticky barbs! I actually met the Decemberists, because I went backstage to see my uncle's band when he was opening for them in Portland. It is a good, good thing that I did not really know who they were at that time, because I probably would have fallen prostate at Mr. Meloy's feet hoping he could lay his hands on my head and somehow transfer his blessing of genius. But then again, maybe he has his songs running like loud, delinquent children through his brain constantly, trampelling all other thoughts, upending the mental furniture in their beautiful, melodic boisterousness. Would that be worth it? I mean, I get my songs stuck in my head sometimes, but not for five days unending, and I don't mind it if I can sit down and work on the song and change it, work on variations, instead of having a fixed song playing over and over and over again in my sore mind. I have a feeling my spelling is deteriorating. I used to be quite good because my English major granny would quiz me relentlessly from the time I learned to read at 3 1/2 years old. My grammar was also constantly corrected and probed. No wonder I come off sounding like some bourgeois cad trying to come off urbane when I write.
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