So I'm liking Ben Folds Five. Not so much just Ben Folds, but yes to Ben Folds Five. I mean, who wouldn't love a song that says:
"Next door there's an old man who lived to his nineties
And one day passed away in his sleep
And his wife; she stayed for a couple of days
And passed away
I'm sorry, I know that's a strange way
to tell you that I know we belong
That I know that I am the luckiest."
It's strange and quirky, and also really sweet.
Is it alright to be a passionate person, even though it makes me unbalanced?
How uncertain am I allowed to be? Am I allowed to renege and re-negotiate and talk myself in and out of things until I figure out what I really mean or want or need (because the exact nature of this re-negotiation is sometimes unclear)?
I am disappointed to find out that even though I made it through Italy and feel much more adult (by which I mean capable in more situations)there are still going to be those hard days, when I am not sure that it is going to be OK to keep waking up.
Of course, I am counting this as just another situation that, theoretically, I'm then that much more capable of dealing with. We'll see how that works out.
Funny story: Chad borrowed Matt's Settlers of Katan game last Sunday. . . I was supposed to return it the next day. Somehow it is still sitting here in my room next to my clock, waiting. Um. . . I'll get that back to you this week, Matt. Cross my heart.
"Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads
But they're just old light, they're just old light"