09 February 2006

Heart of Saturday Night

So anyone who sees me on AIM knows I have a "Currently Listening To" part of my profile that is updated weekly. At the end of the month, I compile all the songs and make a monthly mix CD. Sometimes bi-monthly, depending on how many songs there are. Anyway. The playlist for January, she is complete. Check it:

The Academy Is... - Black Mamba
Train - Cab
Brooks & Dunn - I Believe
Stephen Kellogg & The Sixers - Diamond
Chamillionaire feat. Lil' Flip - Turn It Up
Shawn Colvin - (Looking For) The Heart of Saturday Night
George Strait - She Let Herself Go
Snow Patrol - Run (acoustic)
Better Than Ezra - Under You [Hi, Pete!]
Toby Keith - Get Drunk And Be Somebody
Eminem feat. Nate Dogg - Shake That Ass
Rhett Miller - Your Nervous Heart
Keith Anderson - Everytime I Hear Your Name
Collective Soul - How Do You Love?
Matt Wertz - Lonely Tonight
Matt Nathanson - Come On Get Higher (live)
Rascal Flatts - What Hurts The Most
Will Hoge - Not That Cool
Beyonce feat. Slim Thug - Check On It

Links to the lesser knowns on the list. Obviously I'm not even going to stress how awesome Matt Nathanson is, and how lame you all are for not knowing/singing him CONSTANTLY. He's about to start touring again, and I hope you'll go see him. Seriously, he's hilarious, and doesn't suck at the singing.

04 February 2006

Prelude

Honestly, I think that sometimes I forget that I don't HAVE to just wait to say the things I need to say. I don't have to wait 'till someone ASKS. I can just type or talk or whatever.

A year ago I went on a date with a boy. He was handsome and charming and shy and protective. He walked in front of me, his pinky interlaced with mine, excusing us through a crowd. He sat on a couch while my roommates and I signed to each other, and he rolled his eyes when I made jokes at either of our expenses.

Today he sits in Iraq doing God knows what, emailing me every few days with short, terse sentences. It's almost 13 months to the day since I've seen him, and still I think of him. My heart hates to let go.

But I will. Not of him, necessarily. But of the ghosts I've let haunt me for almost two years. The ghosts of good-byes and shouting matches and thrown woks and anger and hurt and solitude. I'm not going to let myself watch another year go by while I sit pissed off or sad or inept on the sidelines. Man, I hate clich├ęs.

Saturday nights are for suckers.