Nostalgia and Non-Sequitors

I'm putting The Cranberries into Pandora Radio, in an attempt to make myself less sad about having to miss "100 Greatest Songs of the 90s" on VH1. But it's not the same because I know that once "I Can't Be With You" ends, there is no chance that I'll hear some choice Biggie track. That's why the 90s remain my favorite decade for music. There was just so much variety, but so much emotion. Real emotion, none of that pop-punk crap. Oh damn, I sound like Jack Black in "High Fidelity." I'm not a music snob, I'm just feeling a little nostalgic.

This nostalgia would normally have me on the couch in front of VH1, but I've got packing to do. That's right, I'm taking a little vacation. 10 days in Hawaii with my dad and sister. Later this summer I get a week on Martha's Vineyard with my mom and sister. I suppose that's one good thing about having divorced parents. I am not complaining about two vacations.

Oh I also got a job. I'm a freelance reporter at a local newspaper. Yeah, I know, the word "freelance" just reeks of hipster. But I'm hoping to make some money and some connections, and I'm pretty much done researching my first assignment. Hopefully I can write the piece before I leave for the airport at 5:30 TOMORROW MORNING. WHAT?!

I don't think I'll sleep tonight. My boyfriend Earl Grey will keep me up. I'll miss whatever dream I would have though. They've been getting very entertaining lately. The other night I had a dream that Arcade Fire came to my school to perform. Only they split into two bands and one half was kind of indie-folky sounding, and the other half was Ciruqe du Soleil-ish. Also it was at Hampshire, but I still had to take a bus from campus to get there? Anyway, the whole time I was really stressed out because I was trying to figure out which band would be playing "Wake Up." So I went to get some food, but the food cart there that looked like a vintage bus was charging me 75 bucks for a hot dog. So I bought a tabbouleh and olive wrap at the suggestion of the cute guy in line next to me. He then gave me his number on a shoelace.

I think I should pitch that to Wes Anderson. Or maybe Spike Jonze. I actually had to look up how to spell the latter's last name. Aaah, my indie cred!

Peace, Love, and Semicolons,
Lisa