TWO HUNDRED THIRTY-FIVE

SONG OF THE DAY #235
Saturday, January 8th, 2011
Ain't No Sunshine
by Bill Withers

This song is such a hard-hitter that I was hesitant to put it on here on nothing more than an average day. Jessie reminded me of it today, when she was repeating "I know," and then phased onto another song. "Oh. I thought you were singing one of my favorite songs," I told her. "Which one?" she asked, and I played it for her. It's strange, because this is the ultimate melancholic song, yet I felt great today. It's too classic and too meaningful a song to place on a day so average. But then again, there's always the argument that our days are nothing but average. Any given one of them has a surprising meaning behind it. That isn't to say that this won't be repeated. One of these days I'm going to feel terrible about something, and that day-- the day when my antics finally come back to bite me in the ass-- Bill Withers will be there relieving me of my misery, allowing me to uncontrollably wallow in it.

Today was my return to Best Buy after two weeks of being gone. It's my first old work day since I started working at the festival. It was a short work day, 10 to 3. Elo was my co-p. I just found out she might go to Best Buy mobile, deserting me in DI. Who will I have now, the customer-oppressive veteran and the character-indifferent new addition? There were always two reasons I liked my job: my friends, and the fact that I get to help people understand things they couldn't before. One of those is fading. I haven't spoken to Vicky in too long a time, and now Elo is going. Damn Mayte is moving to Canada. Ferd and Tony are still here, but I hardly see them because of departmental compartmentalization. And on that note, Victor's a lost cause, too. Sam, the cool merch girl that doubled as the love of my work life is gone, too... Moved, just like that, to another city. And it all started with Camila. You readers have no idea what I'm talking about, but this will be a memoir to me one day, when I become an oldie looking for a flashback into younger days.

Maybe then the song will apply.

I came home from work to my dad asleep on the couch, and decided I was very tired. I started to watch The English Patient, knowing that tomorrow I'll have to read for Reacting. That movie is sad for no reason. Jessie, of course, didn't take long to accuse me of watching "a piece of crap," like she always does, and swiftly replaced my English Patient with Castle, Season 2. Sono Castello. Watched a few Castles with everyone, and then we all went to bed, where I finished the last hour of the movie, Jessie tried for a quick shower (47 minutes is a low record!) and my parents went to sleep after some mildly uncontrollable laughter. It's fun sometimes seeing them at each other's throats and then transition into getting along better than any other couple on the planet. It's kind of nice. As for today's filmic, I have no review for The English Patient. I don't want to get into Ralph Fiennes' muted, scored-over screaming; it just depressed me. I just have to say this: it eerily reminded me of Amadeus. Everything else made for a fine film (especially La Binoche, who always steals my heart).