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raybearWhich came first, the sad music or the sad mood?
I woke up this morning with an average mix of not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to get dressed and walk the dog, not wanting to go to work, peppered with appreciation for the two warm bodies in my bed (I'm talking about the dog, not a threesome) and even fleeting moments of gratitude for being alive and awake and having things available to me like coffee and pillows and food and boxers. Strange thoughts I know, but it's 7:30 am and I've just woken up, so bear with me.
I stumbled around to find the bathroom and pants and shoes and dog leash and a quarter and made my way out into the rain. I had a moment of resignation about the chilliness and dampness but didn't so much mind the actual drops on my head. I was also endlessly amused at Sophie occasionally using her paw to wipe the water from her her eyes and face, like a cat.
I came back inside and wanted to crawl back into bed and continue sleeping, but knew I couldn't and didn't even want to temp myself. I put on some music. Started with Shuggie Otis, but that wasn't quite right. I need something I can sing to, I thought. I wanted to sing along this morning, but not something rambunctious and peppy and loud singalong, like Missy Elliot or Sleater-Kinney. I stood by my mess of a workstation and immediately found what wanted to be played -- Aimee Mann, the Magnolia soundtrack. It was a perfect fit, though I didn't really know why because my brain was not awake enough to overprocess and analyze what was going on in my heart. I think this is a good thing, since it's so rare. I didn't fight it or try to make myself wake up sooner.
Funny how I was obviously feeling sad, but didn't even know I was feeling sad because the information wasn't being filtered through my brain. But it was obviously on my face. And then on a certain song at a certain lyric that I've sung backwards and forwards eight ways of familiar, I got a jolt of tears in my eyes that somehow embarassed me because I couldn't explain them. Not only that, I didn't really want to explain them nor did I necessarily want them gone, but it seemed easier that way. They left shortly thereafter, almost as quickly and unconsciously as they arrived.
My body was responding in similar fashion. Things felt physically off. I thought I was going to faint after bending down to pick my shoes up too quickly and requested a glass of juice to aid in hydration and blood sugar levels. But the only symptom I had of fainting was tunnel vision -- I started to see darkness and blurriness around the edge of my vision, it almost started to close up then receded and just hung out for a few minutes longer. I felt a little dizzy but not much. I drank the juice and walked around and seemed fine. Also, on the train ride into the office after the doctor, I found myself with a headache that also appeared suddenly. After getting into the office and medicating myself with water and vitamin!water and chromium and naproxen and chocolate milk (not all at the same time), it's gone.
On my walkman during the commute I listened to the same mixtape I mentioned the other day, which was fully of beautifully melodramatic pop love songs from the 80's (e.g. Just Once, All Cried Out, So Good So Right). They had a strange effect on me -- I sang along (mostly in my head though a couple times I slipped) and while I love the unabashed earnestness of the sappy lyrics and don't doubt they reflect some genuine emotion, no matter how cheesy, they also made my strange morning sadness dissipate in a way that Aimee Mann couldn't. Her songs were too real and close to home for the moment.
Now I'm at work and I'm listening to Verdi's Requiem, performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and recorded during the month and year of my birth (which seemed extra fitting at the time when I bought this after deciding to move to Chicago for school) and features the amazing voice of Leontyne Price. And Verdi's music is one of the most moving pieces for me, and I have tears in my eyes at moments while typing and sorting the mail. But it's okay.
I woke up this morning with an average mix of not wanting to get out of bed, not wanting to get dressed and walk the dog, not wanting to go to work, peppered with appreciation for the two warm bodies in my bed (I'm talking about the dog, not a threesome) and even fleeting moments of gratitude for being alive and awake and having things available to me like coffee and pillows and food and boxers. Strange thoughts I know, but it's 7:30 am and I've just woken up, so bear with me.
I stumbled around to find the bathroom and pants and shoes and dog leash and a quarter and made my way out into the rain. I had a moment of resignation about the chilliness and dampness but didn't so much mind the actual drops on my head. I was also endlessly amused at Sophie occasionally using her paw to wipe the water from her her eyes and face, like a cat.
I came back inside and wanted to crawl back into bed and continue sleeping, but knew I couldn't and didn't even want to temp myself. I put on some music. Started with Shuggie Otis, but that wasn't quite right. I need something I can sing to, I thought. I wanted to sing along this morning, but not something rambunctious and peppy and loud singalong, like Missy Elliot or Sleater-Kinney. I stood by my mess of a workstation and immediately found what wanted to be played -- Aimee Mann, the Magnolia soundtrack. It was a perfect fit, though I didn't really know why because my brain was not awake enough to overprocess and analyze what was going on in my heart. I think this is a good thing, since it's so rare. I didn't fight it or try to make myself wake up sooner.
Funny how I was obviously feeling sad, but didn't even know I was feeling sad because the information wasn't being filtered through my brain. But it was obviously on my face. And then on a certain song at a certain lyric that I've sung backwards and forwards eight ways of familiar, I got a jolt of tears in my eyes that somehow embarassed me because I couldn't explain them. Not only that, I didn't really want to explain them nor did I necessarily want them gone, but it seemed easier that way. They left shortly thereafter, almost as quickly and unconsciously as they arrived.
My body was responding in similar fashion. Things felt physically off. I thought I was going to faint after bending down to pick my shoes up too quickly and requested a glass of juice to aid in hydration and blood sugar levels. But the only symptom I had of fainting was tunnel vision -- I started to see darkness and blurriness around the edge of my vision, it almost started to close up then receded and just hung out for a few minutes longer. I felt a little dizzy but not much. I drank the juice and walked around and seemed fine. Also, on the train ride into the office after the doctor, I found myself with a headache that also appeared suddenly. After getting into the office and medicating myself with water and vitamin!water and chromium and naproxen and chocolate milk (not all at the same time), it's gone.
On my walkman during the commute I listened to the same mixtape I mentioned the other day, which was fully of beautifully melodramatic pop love songs from the 80's (e.g. Just Once, All Cried Out, So Good So Right). They had a strange effect on me -- I sang along (mostly in my head though a couple times I slipped) and while I love the unabashed earnestness of the sappy lyrics and don't doubt they reflect some genuine emotion, no matter how cheesy, they also made my strange morning sadness dissipate in a way that Aimee Mann couldn't. Her songs were too real and close to home for the moment.
Now I'm at work and I'm listening to Verdi's Requiem, performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and recorded during the month and year of my birth (which seemed extra fitting at the time when I bought this after deciding to move to Chicago for school) and features the amazing voice of Leontyne Price. And Verdi's music is one of the most moving pieces for me, and I have tears in my eyes at moments while typing and sorting the mail. But it's okay.
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no subject
Date: 2003-04-30 10:44 am (UTC)Nice!!!!!!!
no subject
Date: 2003-04-30 10:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-04-30 11:18 am (UTC)Hmph. Jerk. Apology not accepted.
no subject
Date: 2003-04-30 11:30 am (UTC)Aimee Mann
Date: 2003-04-30 12:21 pm (UTC)-Q
Re: Aimee Mann
Date: 2003-04-30 12:29 pm (UTC)Right now I"m obsessed with the song "It's Not" from Lost in Space, which I want to buy, and the song "Jacob Marley's Chain" from Whatever.