here comes a lie...we will always be true
In answer to my oldest niece's concern that my post titles are indicative of some deep-rooted mental illness...well, that may be true, but it's more like insanity than typical depression, and so there is no need to worry. Actually, virtually every title has nothing to do with the post itself (as you've probably already discovered), but is instead a lyric from the song of the moment.
Today's lyric, for instance, is from 'Little Things' by Bush. I'm pleased to hear that Gavin Rossdale is touring with his new band, Institute, this summer, and my friends are no doubt pleased to realize that I am in no position to force them to drive to LA and catch a concert with me. I have a Google News Alert set up to tell me every day whenever there are new stories about Gavin Rossdale, and it's great that I'm now getting actual news about him, rather than just mentions of him as a footnote to Gwen Stefani's meteoric rise to fame.
My residents from Mirlo will no doubt shudder in some sort of Pavlovian response to the mere thought of 'Little Things'; I was obsessed with Bush during my junior year, right after they released their final album. Shedletsky claims that he can recognize the bass lines of most Bush songs because they lulled him to sleep through our shared wall, but I am sure that he is exaggerating. By senior year I had moved on to Counting Crows, and so the Loroites will probably not have such a visceral reaction to my praise for Gavin Rossdale. Of course, I did have a large poster of Gavin Rossdale that served as the sole decoration on an entire wall of my overly-large single, so the obsession apparently still lingered. I used to turn on the lamp that was perfectly positioned to light up his poster whenever I wanted to look especially creepy, and I'm sure that it had the desired effect.
Regardless of the paths that my life takes, Bush will always be able to comfort me. The lyrics are in general very angry, but also completely nonsensical, and so at times they fit my mood perfectly. I'm usually completely nonsensical when I'm at my angriest, since my attempts to control my temper usually cause all rational thoughts to flee.
Anyway, I have nothing of substance to report. I went to work, came home, and ate dinner; Ranjit made this amazing pesto pasta, mostly as a result of his friendship with Fernando. Fernando is this Spanish dude who, for reasons that have never been clear to me, is hanging out in Hyderabad with some Speedo-wearing friend of his and sometimes cooking at the Taj. Fernando is very nice, however, and he is teaching Ranjit how to make Italian food in exchange for lessons in Indian cuisine. I had quite an amusing conversation with them tonight as Fernando and I were trying to explain to Ranjit what walnuts are; Fernando wanted pine nuts for the pesto sauce, which were not available, and so tried for walnuts without success. He ended up making the pesto with cashews, but it was still delicious. The Speedo-wearing friend does not come to our apartment; instead, he spends a significant amount of his life by the pool looking too European for words. Or I should say, too Mediterranean for words; the Europeans I know (namely Can Sar) typically do not spend the entire day in a Speedo unless things have changed drastically in my absence.
I had a conference call at 8:30, and then I should have done some work, but I was too tired for it and so am going to go to bed instead. I do not remember my malaria dreams from last night, although I do not think that blizzards played a role in them; I vaguely remember dreaming that I lost something, but now I cannot remember what I lost. But, I did not sleep well, and so it's Malaria Pills 13, Sara 0. Perhaps I should switch the night that I take them, since it is really annoying to start the week on a small amount of sleep.
I was sad today to verify that Eve 6 will not make another album. I saw them near the end of their career at a rather depressing concert; they played to fifty or a hundred Stanford students during a poorly-publicized event on Wilbur Field, and they seemed to be drunk and annoyed. I still love 'Think Twice' and 'Open Road Song', but I wish that they could have gone out without me happening to catch them as I was picking Claudia up on campus. But, the thought of Gavin Rossdale's upcoming album will keep me going. Now, it's time for bed!
Today's lyric, for instance, is from 'Little Things' by Bush. I'm pleased to hear that Gavin Rossdale is touring with his new band, Institute, this summer, and my friends are no doubt pleased to realize that I am in no position to force them to drive to LA and catch a concert with me. I have a Google News Alert set up to tell me every day whenever there are new stories about Gavin Rossdale, and it's great that I'm now getting actual news about him, rather than just mentions of him as a footnote to Gwen Stefani's meteoric rise to fame.
My residents from Mirlo will no doubt shudder in some sort of Pavlovian response to the mere thought of 'Little Things'; I was obsessed with Bush during my junior year, right after they released their final album. Shedletsky claims that he can recognize the bass lines of most Bush songs because they lulled him to sleep through our shared wall, but I am sure that he is exaggerating. By senior year I had moved on to Counting Crows, and so the Loroites will probably not have such a visceral reaction to my praise for Gavin Rossdale. Of course, I did have a large poster of Gavin Rossdale that served as the sole decoration on an entire wall of my overly-large single, so the obsession apparently still lingered. I used to turn on the lamp that was perfectly positioned to light up his poster whenever I wanted to look especially creepy, and I'm sure that it had the desired effect.
Regardless of the paths that my life takes, Bush will always be able to comfort me. The lyrics are in general very angry, but also completely nonsensical, and so at times they fit my mood perfectly. I'm usually completely nonsensical when I'm at my angriest, since my attempts to control my temper usually cause all rational thoughts to flee.
Anyway, I have nothing of substance to report. I went to work, came home, and ate dinner; Ranjit made this amazing pesto pasta, mostly as a result of his friendship with Fernando. Fernando is this Spanish dude who, for reasons that have never been clear to me, is hanging out in Hyderabad with some Speedo-wearing friend of his and sometimes cooking at the Taj. Fernando is very nice, however, and he is teaching Ranjit how to make Italian food in exchange for lessons in Indian cuisine. I had quite an amusing conversation with them tonight as Fernando and I were trying to explain to Ranjit what walnuts are; Fernando wanted pine nuts for the pesto sauce, which were not available, and so tried for walnuts without success. He ended up making the pesto with cashews, but it was still delicious. The Speedo-wearing friend does not come to our apartment; instead, he spends a significant amount of his life by the pool looking too European for words. Or I should say, too Mediterranean for words; the Europeans I know (namely Can Sar) typically do not spend the entire day in a Speedo unless things have changed drastically in my absence.
I had a conference call at 8:30, and then I should have done some work, but I was too tired for it and so am going to go to bed instead. I do not remember my malaria dreams from last night, although I do not think that blizzards played a role in them; I vaguely remember dreaming that I lost something, but now I cannot remember what I lost. But, I did not sleep well, and so it's Malaria Pills 13, Sara 0. Perhaps I should switch the night that I take them, since it is really annoying to start the week on a small amount of sleep.
I was sad today to verify that Eve 6 will not make another album. I saw them near the end of their career at a rather depressing concert; they played to fifty or a hundred Stanford students during a poorly-publicized event on Wilbur Field, and they seemed to be drunk and annoyed. I still love 'Think Twice' and 'Open Road Song', but I wish that they could have gone out without me happening to catch them as I was picking Claudia up on campus. But, the thought of Gavin Rossdale's upcoming album will keep me going. Now, it's time for bed!
posted by Sara @ 9:14 AM
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