May 22nd, 2005


Let's erase each other from our memories and start over at the beginning...

Wanderlust sinks its teeth into me every time I find myself frustrated with life. Part of it arises from having spent my entire life living in the same city and from living in the same house I grew up in (rent is relatively cheap and I like the location). Part of it is a need to escape and feeling as though running away from a location might help me to get away from life here entirely. Part of it is simply a need for adventure. There's only so far my imagination can take me in this world.

Was I ever really this wise or did I just bullshit my way through life? BTW, three years ago I was not so cool as to not use a Stabbing Westward line for my subject. One day I'll be so cool that you'll never be able to figure out what songs I'm quoting because they'll be from garage bands or swing bands whose albums can only be found in midwestern junk shops.

Meg and I got to talking last night about what I would consider my top ten, desert island albums. This sort of decision making process makes my head hurt because there are so many albums that I'd want with me that, while I might know where to begin, ending the list causes me to have a brain aneurysym. On top of that, just because an album makes my list now doesn't mean that in a month I won't be sick of that artist or have some new album that I'm obsessing over. Being a music snob is a pain. Collapse )