The other day I was giddy on nitrous oxide and genuinely thought my teeth were loose because of course I did.
“Do you remember the last tooth you lost?” I asked my hygienist. It sounded a little more urgent than I wanted it to, so I continued.
“I remember it–I remember thinking ‘I guess I’m an adult now.’”
With that we speculated about where I’d be years from now and I gave her Plan A, Plan B and Plan C.
It’s funny to think about the things that are supposed to initiate us into the adult world.
I’m almost 100% sure that years from now, under the influence of auld lang syne or a particularly beautiful day, I’ll turn to whomever’s close and urgently ask: “Do you remember…?” and try to trace the time from there to here.
We’re almost 1/5 of the way there people!
Isn’t it wonderful how anything can sound hopeful with just a little careful wording?
My gorgeous friends, Hannah and Laura, came up last night and before they left “Beautiful Day” came on the radio. Tara* was throwing up in the parking lot as it played.
Goddamn right it’s a beautiful day.
*Name has been changed to protect the innocent.
It was love at first sight when I saw this necklace.
Whenever I wake up and I’m not in the mood for school, or cold weather, or just life in general I consciously make an effort to not leave the room in a bad mood. The easiest way to cheer me up is through music and the song that I use most frequently is U2’s “Beautiful Day.”
I know that every U2 fan says how much they hate U2’s “new” stuff (new meaning any album after The Joshua Tree) but I like All That You Can’t Leave Behind. Admittedly, it’s the first U2 album that I didn’t have to appreciate in retrospect so that might contribute to the overall “likeable” factor of it, but I digress. I like the overall theme of All That You Can’t Leave Behind and I especially like “Beautiful Day.”
Bono has said that the song is about a man who has lost everything but who looks around and is totally content with the beautiful day. There’s an obvious biblical reference before the bridge, “see the bird with the leaf in her mouth; after the flood all the colors came out.” It’s a cute little reminder of the impermanence of everything. But there’s something a little ironic about buying a necklace to remind yourself of a song that preaches this: “What you don’t have you don’t need it now.”
Anyway, another great morning song is “Goddamn Right, It’s a Beautiful Day” by The Eels. When you listen to the lyrics at the beginning it seems like a really terrible choice to get you in the mood for the day, but the ending redeems the song.
And on an almost completely unrelated note: How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb totally sucked.
Apparently, God (ie. Bono) has noticed that I had the roughest, gruffest, toughest, and I’m going to use the word “tumbliest” beginning of the week and in honor of the fact that I got through it fairly well, he’s giving me a hump-day treat of a beautiful, beautiful day in Lawrence.
And this is great because the beautiful days in Lawrence are different than the beautiful days in any other towns. People walk more, smile more, and life in general seems to slow down. More people decide to sit down and enjoy life more. Numerous people litter the “beaches” of Wescoe, just engaging in conversation and taking the time to enjoy the company of others.
I love days like today. Days when the sun seems to envelope you in it’s warmth and everything in nature seems to be smiling at you and nodding it’s congratulations for whatever small accomplishment you’ve done today.
It’s a beautiful day.
Happy Ash Wednesday.