Mad Ramblings From a Blithering Idiot
I learned that Sigur Ros' (who I am listening to right
now with the greatest of ease) first album, "Von" (meaning
hope) has lyrics which consist mainly of made-up words.
How incredible. Their focus is mainly the music and that
the human voice is just another instrument that produces
music, so words were kind of irrelevant. I must own "Von"
as soon as possible. I also found out that the lyrics to
their current album, if translated into English, would come
across as somewhat hippie-ish poetry. If that's so, then
I'm content with the Icelandic version. After all, it's
about the music for them.
It's odd that with certain bands like Sigur Ros, it's
all about the music, and others, like Tool for instance,
are more lyrically based. And I love them, love them, love
them. They have managed to worm their way into my
consciousness and my tiny world of approval- and, dare I
say it- realm of worship, that I can't believe that it's
possible that they truly exist. It's like my theory on
life. I'm afraid that if I like or love someone (or thing)
too much that they'll be taken away from me. I've typed my
theory on life in my bolt profile. I'll copy and paste it
some day. It's rather depressing, but one must face facts.
On with the news...
Steph is leaving very soon. She's moving to South
Carolina. I'll miss her but I know it's for the best.
She'll most likely be much happier there, and her little
girl won't have so many bad influences. Plus, she'll be
near her brother.
L's been an idiot in the guy department once again.
She slept with her latest, who promptly dumped her two days
later. Her reasoning? "I was dating him. That doesn't
make me a slut." Dating? You'd been "dating" him for a
grand total of three days and you'd known him just over a
week. I call that sluttiness. She thinks she has some
kind of vd now and she wants to go to the clinic. I love
her, but I can't stand her. She can't say no to men. And
she justifies her behavior by saying, "But we were going
out. I was dating him." Uh, yeah, dummy, he just responds
to your goading and insecurities, then promptly humps and
dumps you. She knows she's caught in this vicious cycle
and she needs to stop, but she just can't. She's done this
with several guys now, some have come back for a round
two. Nothing I say or do will help, so I just shut up and
pretend to listen when she prattles. I felt a little
guilty when she told me yesterday that talking about it to
me has made her feel so much better about the situation.
But I've only heard this same story a hundred times now.
Just the male names are different.
My hours were cut yet again today. I saw red all
night. I got a call this morning from Nancy saying that I
can't come in until five instead of one. How am I supposed
to save money, pay bills, and try to move out if I'm
working pitiful five hour shifts? And the thing I can't
understand is the fact that management is cutting hours on
a fucking Tuesday. Tuesday?! Why doesn't Bill just take a
day off instead? The store couldn't possibly do any worse
without that asshole at the helm for one day. The whole
situation makes me sick.
Mom and M are leaving for France in a little more than
a week. I make no apologies about turning absolutely green
with envy over the whole affair. My French class never
even had a notion of taking a trip. And here I was, the
fluent one. It figures, though. Dad is coming to stay at
home for the nine days that they'll be gone. I don't know
whether I like or despise that. I'll just have to wait and
see. I'll most likely be working those days anyway, so it
won't matter much. I hope.
I still hope that heaven is a giant mixture of sleep
and orgasms, with a spectacular soundtrack sandwiched in