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qotd, watch the world die edition

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.


I highly approve of your dinnertime indoctrination. Classic indeed.

No worries.

We can live beside the ocean
Leave the world behind
swim out past the breakers
watch the world die

I think sometimes I have a kind of soundtrack to my life. Or at least, songs which I highly associate with certain times and places. This was one of them for me too.
Glad you made it through.

I always feel better after I read those lists of famous, accomplished people who have suffered lots of rejection.

Santa Monica:
Charlottesville, VA
Being oh so young.
Waking up to a view of the Blue Ridge mountains every morning.
Driving my stick-shift Tercel.
Giving tours of Monticello.
Dying my hair red. Then shaving it off.

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