December since a journal entry. July or August since anything written. I think I've lost that "live" spark I had his summer. August was a good month full of warm beer and beaches. May of last year was so uncertain, but by August I seemed to have found everything alive. February, and everything's dead or dying. I think the winter does it to me. I think it's that though I love the cold Virginia woods, I can't help but feel that beneath the dead crunch of my feet, something is boiling.

...now that you've let in the cold...forgive the reference.

It had been a while since I surrounded myself completely in music. I'm getting more and more back into it, and I feel better than I have in a while. I kind of had an epiphany recently, and I acknowledged that there are multiple ways that people listen to music. This appears to be complete narrow-mindedness, I know. I just hadn't really thought this out completely. I remember a while ago, I dated this guy who has a much more vast database of musical knowledge than I did (especially at the time). It wasn't the number of musicians with which he was familiar that was so surprising, rather what he knew of them or how deeply he could define their music to himself. While listening to a song for the first time, he could take in every element about that song (vocals, instrumentation, lyrics, composition, etc.) simultaneously. He could then make a reference to said song that I wouldn't get--and it could be a song with which I felt fairly familiar. I think back now at all the things he said to me that I didn't get at the time, and realize either he was more clever than I gave him credit, or he was a complete moron devoid of any meaningful social skills. I'm leaning towards the first option. It took training, but I know hear whole songs, and I'm proud. I was made aware of all of this when driving down the road with the current beau (see: Exhibit John Lennon from the end of this past summer. Yea, whoa, it's lasted this long...) listening to "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." (his favourite Sufjan song) for about the millionth time, and he doesn't know lyrics. He says they aren't so important to him, but hey, he's a Lennon fan. He likes the voice man, the voice. And instrumentation. "Illinoise" as a concept album is lost on him, but he still feels it, so not all is lost. He -does- listen to lyrics with Beatles songs, and this got me to thinking that one can somewhat ignore lyrics in certain types of music (some metal is like this for me), but some artists DEMAND that you hear what they say. A few for me are Regina Spektor, Sufjan Stevens, Tom Waits, The Decemberists, Radiohead, The Stones, Pink Floyd, Bruce Springsteen, etc. (There are so many for me now, but these are my past week's thoughts) For some reason all of this was surprising to me and now give me another base of comparison when I'm thinking about what comprises "good" music.

So, what music have I fully embraced recently? I made a playlist for Jay with music ranging from ReSpekt to Billy Joel to Remy Zero to The Shins. We drove to Richmond to eat at this crappy 24-hour diner on 4th and listened to it. Other than that, he's always with me, and we listen to ReSpekt and Sufjan (and Beatles) mostly. Music feels right again.

In other news, there isn't much. I went to visit my best friend from Longwood last weekend. The drive was the best part. We drove through Farmville and then went on the "route" to Harrisonburg. Eight hours of driving to go essentially what could've been 120 miles. Seeing Lauren was good, though a little stressful. She's still caught up in the life I left behind, and I miss the person she was. Morally, I don't know how I feel about this.

Mrs. Fingath (yes, mRs.!! that means there's now a Mr. Fingath) has been talking to me, and I've missed her like whoa. We mobthtath are back in bithnethth. I've got my pianah wiyah, how 'bout you?

I've been lurking here recently though avoiding much commentation because I feel like I don't have anything creative to add anymore. I'm working on this. I've forgotten none of you.

Ms. Claire, I need your address. I have something for you.

Ms. Heather, are you at the same address? I also have something for you. We've slacked on our pen-pal-ing, but I'm ecstatic that life is better for you. The world is rounder when you are smiling.

Here's to things anew.

Always,
Me.