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04.28.2004 - 7:28 p.m.


I recently got new ear buds for my iPod. They're Apple-produced, the sort that sit inside your ear, with a choice of three soft plastic outer casings. I use the smallest one, and when I listen to music now I feel like it's tickling my brain, resonating off my skull somehow.

You know how some music, or sounds, are so deliciously good they give you shivery goosebumps? Mine include:

- The xylophone/steel drum song in True Romance. Ahhhh
- Children whispering
- The squeak of a cork coming out of a wine bottle
- Muted restaurant audio clutter: the combination of background murmuring and the clinking of silverware
- A crackling fire
- Wind blowing through long grass
- When Aimee Mann sings "you're on your honor…cause I'm a goner…and you haven't even begun…" in "Deathly"
- The ocean, at night
- This snorty half-asleep sigh Dog does
- Clumps of snow falling off trees
- Any high note Chris Isaak hits
- The tiny cheeping baby birds that are in my carport right now
- Flapping sheets, or billowing whooshing articles of clothing
- Light chains or jewelry tinkling; Christmas ornaments clinking together

And sounds that give me the polar opposite sort of feeling?

- Any body part cracked on purpose
- Gulped liquids
- The dry-mouthed smacking of someone's mouth (smik...smik)
- The Darkness
- People clipping their fingernails
- Ice cubes being removed from metal trays
- The boooiinnnggg of those door stopper thingies

Speaking of noises, or music, or, I don't know, wherever the shit this entry is lurching off to, I heard Girl Anachronism by The Dresden Dolls today on the way home, and I think it's one of the most interesting songs I've heard in months. I either can't stand it, or it's utterly fucking brilliant and I need to buy the album right this instant. Honestly, I can't tell.




I've felt mopey off and on for the last few days, and I think I've finally identified the source of my woes. It's Anne Tyler's latest book, that I read over the weekend. I LOVE her normally. She always has this feeling of melancholy in her novels, but this one…boy, I don't know. Each chapter felt sort of steeped in misery to me, with no relief in sight. And I don't mean it's a tearjerker, like the lovely and kleenex-inducing To Dance With the White Dog, which made me sob and blat and carry on like a little sissy girl for HOURS after I finished the last page. It's more…I don't know, I felt like I slogged through it, like I wanted so badly to wave a magic wand over the character's lives and change them for the better, but I couldn't, and its effects are still lingering on me, making me feel all useless and dreary.

As my coworker said the other day, somebody needs to call me a Wahbulance.

Wahbulance. Ho ho! Ah, I feel better already.

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18 comments so far.

I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004

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