I'll walk right out into a brand new day
Insane and rising in my own weird way
I don't want to be the bad guy
I don't want to do your sleepwalk dance anymore
I just want to feel some sunshine
I just want to find some place to be alone
-- Everclear "Santa Monica"
This will take a little explaining.
Every night at dinner, we put on the cable music channel devoted to "classic alternative," not because it leads to harmonious meals but because Scott and I firmly believe that we should indoctrinate the children into the wonders of the Ramones, The Cure and the B-52s as often as possible.
So a couple of nights ago, "Santa Monica" came on. In the span of those first three chords, I was back in Austin, aimlessly driving around after getting rejected by my grad school of choice for the second time (no, I don't learn lessons quickly) and wondering just what the fuck I was going to do with my life, which I had decided was effectively over because I'd been told "no."
What followed were several years of seriously bleak behavior. I still don't know a) how I survived and b) why my husband stuck around.* Those opening chords took me right back, even as I sat at the dinner table with my awesome (if maddening at times) children and spouse, in my very own house, which I live in with relative ease and contentment.
Part of me wants to go back and tell the "Santa Monica" me to just get over herself already. But I had to do that to get here, you know. And I wonder what the me 15 years from now will want to tell the me now to just get over already.
All that from a 3-minute pop song.
Humans are just weird, eh?
* Thanks again, btw.