"In vacant or in pensive mood..." I am: Bekah; 24; Law Student / Favorite Things: Carbs (so there!), Johnny Damon, Smiling at babies, Grilled cheese, Comfortable silence / Favorite Supreme Court Justice: Brennan / Favorite Wilson: Owen by an inch / Today's Special: Song: Elliott Smith, "Bled White"; Quote: "You know, there's like a butt-load of gangs at this school. This one gang kept wanting me to join because I'm pretty good with a bowstaff." Please love me: mmbekah@yahoo.com


February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 September 2005

 
I drove home today for a quick visit with the parents and my Dad greeted me, brow furrowed, with the following stern admonition: "Bekah, you have to update the Marathon. If you're not careful, you're going to lose your readership." I suspect that Dad really just wants me to write more about how cool he is, but I also realize that my posts have been lacking for a long time. There are reasons, I promise: I don't have internet at my apartment and I'm not in school right now, so the coffeehouse is my only option and I would rather not go there all the time when I don't have to. Besides, this alleged "readership" is mostly made up of students, and they're not on their computers over the break anyway. And the funnest (poetic license) stuff to write about usually happens when school is in session. Excuses aside, I know that I'm slacking, but rest assured, faithful reader(s?)--posts will resume regularly with the Spring semester.

So on my drive home I was lucky enough to pass through an area with an actual, authentic 80's station and I got some seriously good (and long overdue) alone-in-the-car rockage under my belt. Athough it was an exciting few hours, I couldn't help but be disturbed by the impeccable accuracy with which I was able to sing Paula Abdul's "Cold Hearted." Not only did I know every word of the song (including the truly stellar rap sequence), but I also knew every precise intonation of the harmonies, as well as where every "oooh" and "uh-oh" belonged. If you have not listened to the song since, say, 1988, you may not have a sufficient understanding of its brilliantly atmospheric quality. It's almost symphonic, the way the music surrounds you as the synthesizer bends you to its will. I was mesmerized. The only thing that jolted me out of my Paula Abdul reverie was the billboard picturing a blurry streetscape and exclaiming YOU'RE KILLING US! Don't Drink and Drive. They really know how to play that subtlety card around here, a skill also evidenced by the neon orange and yellow "We Bare All!" signs dappling the countryside. Right. I have a terrible cold, complete with full congestion, pounding headache, and raging sore throat, and I think that combination is making me unpleasantly sarcastic. I'm going to stop writing and go play with my dog.

posted by Bekah at 9:16 PM :: |