Fifty Shades of Jessica: Part One

So Facebook has this thang called the "50 Day song Challenge." Everyday you post a song that has a theme that is pre-designated by Mark Zuckerberg. That last part is a lie, but it's fun to make up lies.
Anyway, there's no reason that this shit needs to take 50 days. I can bang this out in a blog post or two.

I found a list that I liked better on www.musicfrombigpink.wordpress.com, and I stole it, but I didn't steal the songs, I promise.

Day 01 – A song from the first album you ever bought: "All that She Wants," by Ace of Base. This album was unstoppable. Act like you didn't own a copy. G'head. Impossible.

Day 02 – Your favorite single anthem: "Take Off To The Great White North," by Geddy Lee. This is not an anthem per se, but it is a beacon of light for the people of Canada. 

Day 03 – Your favorite title track from an album: "First and Last and Always," by The Sisters of Mercy.

Day 04 – A song by a band or artist you’ve seen live: " Lonesome Train Whistle," by The Reverend Horton Heat. In fact, I just saw them on Thursday night and this song rocked my socks right off, along with their version of Faron Young's single (written by Willie Nelson), "Hello Walls." I'm currently a rock n' roll/rockabilly/psychobilly fanatic. 

Day 05 – A song from your childhood: "It's You I like," by Mister Rogers. This was going to be my wedding song for the longest time...until I got married without a wedding and became really goth (on the inside. No need to dress like a bat to be goth) and wanted Echo and the Bunnymen's, "Nocturnal Me." ha.

Day 06 – A song by your favorite band/artist: "Still Ill," by The Smiths. This was the first Smiths' song that I fully connected with. That I said, "This bloke Morrissey is writing what I'm feeling." 

Day 07 – A favorite song that was used on a TV series: "The Christmas Song," by The Raveonettes. I hate the OC, but their Christmas albums are fantastic!

Day 08 – Your most played song on iTunes: "Bring on the Dancing Horses,"  by Echo and the Bunnymen. *le sigh* it is so beautiful.

Day 09 – Favorite new release: "Lights," by Ellie Goulding. At least, I think that that's her name. This song makes me want to dance my pants off.

Day 10 – An awesome driving song:  "Breakin' the Law," by Judas Priest. I don't really have to explain why this is the best song to drive to, ever.

Day 11 – A song that’s amazing live: I think that the only version of Bob Seger's, "Turn the Page," that anyone has ever heard is the live version. Is there a regular version? Does anyone care? A close second is, "Death of a Disco Dancer," by The Smiths. That is, at least when I saw Morrissey sing it in 2009. *swoon*
Day 12 – A song that makes you laugh: "I'm just a Gigolo," by David Lee Roth. Mister Dustin and I have a very secret reason for liking this one, that still makes me lol, officially, when I hear this song.

Day 13 – A song with incredible lyrics: "The Devil's Crayon," by Wild Beasts. 

This truly is the devil's answer 
Carved from the tongue of this romancer 
This truly is the devil's answer 
The oldest children used to kiss 

And we are so many clambering hands 
And we are so many clambering hands 

Day 14 – A song off an album that has brilliant cover art: "Run to the Hills," by Iron Maiden's album The Number of the Beast. Which is probably one of the greatest Metal songs that has ever been crafted, with one of the most iconic metal characters that has ever been crafter. Bruce Dickinson is my favorite super hero.

Day 15 –Your favorite TV theme tune  Your favorite song from a movie soundtrack: "Danger Zone," by Kenny Loggins...as featured in the soundtrack for Top Gun. Yessssss... A close second was every song on the Hot Rod Soundtrack, which is basically Europe's, "The Final Countdown."

Day 16 – A song that reminds you of a holiday: "Round and Round," by Ratt. This is probably my favorite holiday song because it was featured in the credits of "The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy's" Christmas Special.

Day 17 – A song that makes you think of a family member: "Let Your Love Flow," By The Bellamy Brothers. We used the lyrics to this one on the remembrance cards at my Grandmother's Memorial Service. It was kind of her take on life. The contentment of the life that you've been dealt.

Just let your love flow like a mountain stream
And let your love grow with the smallest of dreams
And let your love show and you'll know what I mean
It's the season

And let your love fly like a bird on the wing
And let your love bind you to all living things
And let your love shine and you'll know what I mean
That's the reason

Day 18 – A song you never get sick of hearing  Your favorite piece of classical music: Is this considered classical music? "Rhapsody in  Blue," reminds me of a Special Lady and a special family and will be a classic for me for the rest of my life. 

Day 19 – A guilty pleasure: "He Loves You Not," By Dream. Don't you judge me. I already hate myself.

Day 20 – A song you can’t help but sing along to: Although the aforementioned song is pretty irresistible  Every time that I hear Sweet's, "Ballroom Blitz," I tend to scream at the top of my lungs. you can't help but not. 

Day 21 – A song that reminds you of a close friend: "Summer Girls," By LFO. This is a shout-out to my good friend Vanessa. 

Day 22 – A song you play when you want to relax Your favorite sad bastard song: "Fairytale of New York," by The Pogues. Dear lord, the tears just roll down my face when this one comes one. 

Day 23 – A song you play before a night out: When I was an young buck (was I a buck, no I suppose I was a young doe. Is that a term?) that went out on Saturday nights, I couldn't really afford to go,  so we would heavily pre-game the evening and then drive as fast as we could to the bar at 11pm. The song that often played on the car radio? "Hey Mama," by The Black-Eyed Peas. I apologize for nothing! 

Day 24 – A song from a band/artist you’ve just ‘discovered’   A song from a band that no one's ever heard of: "Gay Bar," By The Electric Six. Alright, maybe five people have heard of it, but it's a thrill-ride of non-stop awesomeness.

Day 25 – A song off of the last album you bought/ last track you downloaded: "Romance," by Wild Flag. That might not be the last album that I bought, but that song rules pretty darn hard and last year's Wild Flag album made the top of a lot of critics' lists last year.

Day 26 – A song no one would expect you to love: "Ballroom Blitz," by Sweet. Normally, I'm not the biggest fan of Glam and Butt Rock, but this song is so insanely dancy that I want to FREAK OUT! I've referenced it in a previous post about songs that I dance to whilst driving.

Day 27 – A song you would sing at a karaoke bar: A song that I HAVE sung at a karaoke bar is, "Milkshake," by Kelis. More than once, actually.

Day 28 - A song you love for its lyrics:  I didn't realize that this song was XTC until Mister Dustin pointed it out to me. XTC has never really gotten the credit that they deserve for excellent song writing and excellent music. There are a lot of songs with lyrics that I can relate or connect to, but this one is just so poignant.

 Dear God

Hope You get the letter

And I pray You can make it better

Down here

I don't mean a big reduction in the price of beer

But all the people that You made in your image

See them starving on their feet

'Cause they don't get enough to eat 

From God

I can't believe in You

Dear God

Sorry to disturb 

You but I feel that I should be heard 

Loud and clear

We all need a big reduction in amount of tears

And all the people that You made in Your image

See them fighting in the street

'Cause they can't make opinions meet

About God

I can't believe in You

Did You make disease and the diamond blue?

Did You make mankind after we made You?

And the devil too?

Dear God

Don't know if you noticed 

But Your name is on a lot of quotes in 

This book

Us crazy humans wrote it, You should take a look

And all the people that You made in your image

Still believing that junk is true

Well I know it ain't, and so do You

Dear God

I can't believe in...

I don't believe...

I won't believe in heaven and hell

No saints, no sinners, no devil as well

No pearly gates, no thorny crown

You're always letting us humans down

The wars You bring, the babes You drown

Those lost at sea and never found

And it's the same the whole world 'round

The hurt I see helps to compound

That Father, Son and Holy Ghost

Is just somebody's unholy hoax

And if You're up there You'll perceive

That my heart's here upon my sleeve

If there's one thing I don't believe in

It's you

Dear God 

That's a place to finish it up. There's nothing more to say.

Smash it Up Sunday

Today is, "National Metal Day," according to VH1 classic. This has been celebrated by a countdown list that goes on for ten hours. TEN HOURS of a show being hosted by Fozzy (they're awful. Just awful. Don't believe me? You asked for it. Go ahead and watch that video) frontman and "Professional Wrestler," Chris Jericho. Feh.

When douchebag is finally coined by Merriam-Webster, there's going to be a picture of this asshole right next to Christian Audigier (to bring you up to speed, it's the guy that "designs," Ed Hardy clothing).

Anywho, much like every other list that VH1 classic cobbles together, I can't really manage to express via the written word how disappointed I am that this is the best that fans could come up with. Clearly if the electoral college needed to be established to tell voters who they wanted to for president, then clearly there should be some gate-keeping to keep people from themselves. In fact, I haven't even looked at the entire list until now, in hopes that I can express my initial discontent for two readers that might be interested in this (my husband being one of them).

I have a hard time understand what VH1 was classifying as, "Hard Rock." Is it because a guitar is involved? Is it because there would be a slightly chance that you'd bang your head? Clearly, some criterion must've been reached, and then the voters took a dump on them. I don't think that the complete list is out yet, but I did find one from 2009 that really grinds my gears.

Aside from yelling at the television (thanks Gram, I really needed to pick up that trait from you), I've also amassing things for my smash book.

Like a lot of the pen-palling  paper-crazed crafters out there, I purchased a smash book, but unlike a lot of paper-crazed, pen-pallers out there, I seem to have no idea as to how to get started. Right now, I have a bunch of cards, postcards, letters, ticket stubs, fortunes, name cards, buttons that are sitting between the blank pages of this book, waiting to be inspiring for me, but I just can't seem to figure out how to put it all together. Being drawn in by all of the accessories and the doo-dads that go along with it is an easy slippery slope, but so far, I've just purchased the book and a few tags. There are entire sites dedicated to how to create a Smash book that emulates your personality or to show-off how amazing adorable some people are at smashing their lives into the pages of a book, but so far I suppose my smash book is a lot like my life, half-finished and bursting at the seams with all of the things that I wished I would've said and done to make everything pretty and witty and light.

My favorite line in Louisa May Alcott's, Little Women says, "I should've been a great many things, Mister Mayor."

Black Metal Christmas

It's already November 9th and I'm just putting up my Christmas decorations. My husband hates it, but in order to fully enjoy Christmas decorations, they have to be up at least two months. I didn't make the rule it just is what it is. As I say this, we are watching a documentary called, "This is Black Metal," and Celtic Frost is currently covered in blood and dirt and singing about metal-y things like flesh and guts. This marriage is about give and take. Black Metal and Christmas. Or Black Metal Christmas. If you've never heard King Diamond's, "No Presents for Christmas," you must run to the interwebs and download it this very instant.

For anyone that doesn't know me, I love to collect post-modern Christmas decorations. Basically the ugly, ugly plastic decorations that are most likely full of lead and pain that causes seizures and erectile dysfunction (although that second one hasn't really plagued me). Pairing these ugly items with the basic ugly items that litter my apartment throughout the rest of the year is probably one of my favorite activities. If you can believe it, the Infant of Prague stays and the creepy head looms all the live-long day.

Sharing my collection with six people on the internet is fun for sure, but  much like my currently watching this back metal documentary, interspersing Dustin's interests with mine makes for a fun life together. Bottle brush trees and tiny robots go together swimmingly, anyway. 

No holiday is complete with embarrassing your family whilst showcasing your super sweet plastic Christmas shovel  .My parents really enjoyed when I forced them to wear someone else's clothes and pose for a picture in Gettysburg. ESPECIALLY my father. He wouldn't even wear rental bowling shoes when we were going bowling one time for my birthday. Admittedly, this is more about my perverse pleasure it distressing my father than it is about my Christmas shovel. Moving on...

This year I bought a champagne (it's pronounced cham-pag-in) glittery tree and covered it with totally twee bows. Personally, I blame Etsy for this. If it wasn't for that site, aqua wouldn't be such a big part of my life. Neither would birds or little doodads that make me squeal.

Garett's grandma had some of the coolest Christmas loot--including these awesome Santa candlesticks.

Don't miss the creepin' Santa head in the background.

Why do so many Santas look like Rummys?

I caught this grumpy cat under my Kitchen tree, or perhaps it should be called a Kitschen tree.

I've covered it in Norman Rockwell ornaments, teapot lights and sugarcube garland with the most adorablest button and corduroy tree skirt that ever lived.

That is, until the cats destroy it.

Christmastime is here. So that means its time for me to make a concerted effort to be a little nicer and be a little bit more human. Bill Murray will tell you all about it.

Gray Skies Ahead

Mr. Obama has been re-elected as the President of the United States of America, and it's too late to talk about all of the superbly wonderful ways that Mittens would've waved a wand over this country and transformed it to the land of ever-flowing cash and rich, white people as your boss as far as the eye can see.

If social media is an indicator of the level of fucked that we are as a "United Nation," then I'd set that dial to, "totally." Concern for one has given way to lots of selfish bickering, finger-pointing,  bible-thumping and conspiracy theories (like, FEMA's putting stickers on your mailboxes and we're all getting put in work camps conspiracies. Oh the humanity!).

It reminds me of a little ditty written by David Gray:

Wishing that something would happen

A change in this place

'cos I'm tearing off the fancy wrapping

Find an empty package

Take for a while

Your trumpet from your lip

Loosen your hold loosen your grip

On your old ways

That have fallen out of step

In a changing time

Hoist a new flag

Hoist a new flag

Angry sun burn down

Judging us all

Guilty of neglect and disrespect

And thinking small

And death by boredom

And death by greed

If we can't stop taking

More than we need

But across the fractured landscape

I see the same things

Tired ideas

Birds without wings

[ Lyrics from: 

And these are just thoughts

Of lack lustre times

I've no interest

In excuses you can find

Like you've had a hard day

Now you're too tired to care

Now you're too tired to care

You've had a hard day

Well across the fractured landscape

I see the same things

Tired ideas broken values

Many with the notion

That to share is to lose

A hollow people bound by a lack

Of imagination and too much looking back

Without the courage to give a new thing a chance

Grounded by this ignorance

(and the cat comes)

We're just,

Birds without wings

We are a nation that has been transformed based upon the notion that, "to share is to lose," even though we grew strong as a nation with government programs like, "The New Deal's" three Rs (Relief, Recovery and Reform) and fiscal conservatism. Nationally, we're paying the middle class less, buy bigger things and putting up with a budget that would tank any household. We want to let the rich pay less taxes, and then we wonder why the deficit is so large.

This reminds me of another, by David Gray:

I beg to differ

To break the chain

To draw a line right through

Tomorrow

And cancel every claim

I've seen reflections

Beneath my skin

And drums beating for battle

In the eyes of children

And turning it over

Right down

Where the eye don't see no colour

Where the war don't make a sound

Ice on the shoulder

Noel

Praise the lord above

And sell sell sell

Oh violent flowers

You fill the screen

Betray your mother

And change your name

So tall and fickle

And blind as snow

Running headfirst for oblivion

Cause you've nowhere else to go

And turning it over

Right down

Where the eye don't see no colour

Where the war don't make a sound

Ice on the shoulder

Noel

Praise the lord above

And sell sell sell

In chill of winter

In dead of night

Each so familiar with the hunger

That they got no appetite

They talk of loving

I hear her say

That as fast as I can give it

He's taking it away

And turning it over

Right down

Where the eye don't see no colour

Where the war don't make a sound

Ice on the shoulder

Noel

Praise the lord above

And sell sell sell

And turning it over

Right down

Where the eye don't see no colour

Where the war don't make a sound

Ice on the shoulder

Noel

Praise the lord above

And sell sell sell

A weeping willow

The desert wind

So many learn to swallow

So few to understand

The deepest longing

This cup of faith

Where to put them in a world

Where no innocence is safe

If we don't, "beg to differ and break the chain," of hatred, greed and intolerance to usher in a new way to comprise, then we're all as doomed as the red-dotted mailbox dweller. 

   

Tomorrow: Will it Really Come, and If It Does, Will I Still be American?

This is my last political post. I mean it. This is it. I've bordered on the edge of a liberal-leaning moderate making snide jokes about how Mrs. Mitt Romney (she doesn't need a name. I mean, hell, she doesn't even need the right to decide what she wants to do with her body) hasn't worked a day in her life and Mitt Romney wouldn't know a middle-class person if they came up and smacked him in the face (which I would be willing to do, repeatedly). I've openly admitted that I’m disappointed in the President that filled the country with hyperbole about change and patriotism and fairness but really failed to incite the change in the governing body of the people that elected him. I’m tired of living in a country that can’t get over the fact that our President is black, and I’m ashamed to admit that it took a very real and very blatant act of racism for me to believe it. I’m tired of middle-class white people thinking that their only hope is the tea party, when they don’t even come close to realizing what their platform means for someone that lives exactly like they do. I’m tired of a bi-partisan system being the status-quo because everyone is too stupid, too afraid or too apathetic to really care about the people that are being paid to represent us while we slave away at meaningless jobs and pay taxes that manage their pension funds and tax breaks for the one-percent of the population that can afford it. I’m ashamed that I fall into that apathetic category.  

I’m terrified that tomorrow could be the beginning of four years of what is already an insurmountable national debt being that much harder to pay off. That forty-seven percent of the population will be treated like scum:  Granddads that need Medicare or single mothers that need daycare assistance to work and go to school to better their lives. I’m terrified that the next four years will be exactly like the last that were full of snide bickering, racism and personal attacks. I’m afraid that American Conservatives are blaming American Liberals when the real blame is on the hundreds of men and women that refuse to comprise to make this country whole. Unity has no room for partisan politics, so I’m confused as why we are all so willing to put up with it?

Personally, I’m terrified that as hard as I work now, it will never be hard enough to reach a place where I can retire and to everything that I've ever wanted to do—like visit Ireland or The Cotswolds or anywhere else that I've ever wanted to go, but couldn't afford to do it. I’m terrified that at thirty, I've invested a lifetime worth of debt into an education that’s provided a lifetime worth of hassle, because I don’t know somebody that knows somebody that has, “an in.” I’m terrified that if one more person tells me that the reason that I don’t have what I want is because I don’t work hard enough, that I will stop trying completely.

Mostly, I’m afraid of voting Americans. I’m afraid that they vote without their heads. They vote for themselves and not for America as a nation. They vote thinking that they live in the greatest country in the world (in what category, I have no idea), but they vote for people that want to cut funding for Public Broadcasting and Education.  If you lived in the one-man country of “Peter Smith,” or” John Van Dyke,” or, “ Amy Schneider,”  voting for your agenda and your religion and your pocketbook would be a worthy vote, but we don’t. We are the United States of America and with that comes the great responsibility to vote for those people that are United under one flag. People that should be allowed to love and marry who they choose, should be able to make choices about their reproductive health and should be able to reach out for help when they need it, without fear of repercussion.

When you’re voting tomorrow, you’re casting a vote for yourself, but you’re also casting a vote that affects every single person that you've ever locked eyes with on the street, every person that you've ever stood next to in an elevator, every child that will be forced to live with the choices that we have made as adults in 2012. Many people talk about how this is a right as a legal American citizen (and thusly want to remove this right from those that may not have the appropriate paperwork, but contribute to this country with the same ferocity as any other citizen). Many people talk about how it is a privilege to vote. I feel tremendous burden of this vote. The importance weighs on me greatly and pushes the apathy to the breaking-point of Patriotism, of connectedness to my fellow Americans, to pride. That is probably the most terrifying feeling of all. The transformation to someone that cares. God, I hope you can feel it, too.

My Yearly Christmas Plea

Every year, I try my hardest to get my local radio station to play Christmas songs that are somewhat off the beaten-path. I'm not asking for "Merry Muthafuckin' Christmas," by Easy-E, but damnit, if I have to hear Bono wailing about his baby not coming home for one more season, I might go postal.

So, here's my open letter to the director of programming at one of my local stations that has an all Christmas/all the time format:

Seasons Greetings to You!

 

It's almost time to begin your Christmas programming and I have to say that this is, by far, my favorite time of year to listen to your radio station. Christmas is my favorite holiday and the songs that are associated are so heartwarming and wonderful...even if the general population says that they're annoying and repetitive. Nothing could be farther from the truth, if you're willing to spice up your playlist and consider some of the many Christmas songs that never make it to the airwaves in Pittsburgh. I feel like this Christmas is a real opportunity to become the station that really serves up Christmas correctly, free from the same twenty Christmas songs that you hear on that other station (we both know what I'm talking about).

 

Please consider some of the songs I'm going to list...for a few reasons. Firstly, I know a think or two about Christmas music and I know a thing or two about being in the 25-35 white, educated, middle-class demographic. It is no coincidence that bands like Mumford and Sons are popular: people are longing for skilled and talented musicians on the radio, and that includes Christmas music. Why is it that Bing Crosby's Christmas album has sold eleventy billion copies? The dude can sing! Please consider some talented artists that aren't necessarily Bruce Springsteen wailing about Santa Claus Coming to Town or, "Another Auld Lang Syne," by Kenny Loggins. In fact, if I never heard that song again it would be too soon. That is NOT a Christmas song.

 

1. "Driving Home for Christmas," by Chris Rea

2. "The Burning Babe," by Sting

3. "Who Took the Merry Out of Christmas?" by The Staples Singers (this song's awesome quotient makes it officially "outta sight.")

4. "Christmas Song," The Raveonettes

5. "A Christmas to Remember," Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton

6. "Christmas Wrapping," by The Waitresses

7. "The Christmas Waltz," by Doris Day

8. "Late in December," by Jackie Gleason

9. "If We Make it Through December," by Merle Haggard (technically not a Christmas song, but neither is, "Another Auld Lang Syne," and well...we've already discussed that one, haven't we?)

10. "Christmas in Las Vegas," Los Straitjackets

 

 

I want to listen to your radio station, but when you play the same five Christmas songs in a loop, you leave me with no choice but to make a playlist full of She & Him, The Pogues and the amazing tunes listed above.

Give yourself the gift of my listenership.

 

If this totally narcissistic and bratty plea does not get to them, then NOTHING will.

 

Let's not take the Merry out of Christmas.

 

Waiting for the Great Leap Forward

As of late, I have been complete absorbed in XTC’s, “Making Plans for Nigel,” listening to it six or seven times a day. Dustin and I casually mentioned that if we ever decided to have a child (GASP!) and it was a boy, Nigel was a definite boy name possibility. I’m betting that our next boy cat would have a better chance of being named Nigel. Maybe a hairless cat that someone buys me for my thirtieth birthday? Just a consideration for the six people that even come close to reading this rarely-updated and poorly-attituded (that’s a word now) blog (that’s also a sentence fragment, but I like to live life on the edge. The grammatical edge).

I love this song because, much like the Brits, they say it best when they say nothing at all (Yes, I did steal that line from Keith Whitley. What’s he going to do about it? Not much, I’ll bet).

We're only making plans for Nigel 

We only want what's best for him 

We're only making plans for Nigel 

Nigel just needs this helping hand

And if young Nigel says he's happy 

He must be happy 

He must be happy in his work

We're only making plans for Nigel 

He has his future in a British steel 

We're only making plans for Nigel 

Nigel's whole future is as good as sealed

And if young Nigel says he's happy 

He must be happy 

He must be happy in his work

Nigel is not outspoken 

But he likes to speak 

And loves to be spoken to 

Nigel is happy in his work 

We're only making plans for Nigel

 So many songs have been written about working-class Brits by artists like Billy Bragg and groups like XTC, that I feel as though I have basic understanding of their desperation and apathy and how it, in turn,  mirrors my own in so many ways.  While artists like Sting (don’t get me wrong, I like him, but he’s a total twat) like to talk about how they grew up in working-class neighborhoods whilst on a Yoga retreat in sweaty, buggy Bali or from a yurt in Mongolia where they’re learning to play a yak intestine hurdy-gurdy from the local medicine man (thusly trying to gain some kind of street-cred with the middle-class and actually gaining street-cred with Bourgeois Bohemians that make two-hundred thousand dollars a year and have a Zen garden on the back patio of their brownstone because it just makes them feel more “at peace.” FEH.), there are artists that write songs that express what we’re all thinking in such amazingly witty ways that the typical idiot off the street isn’t going to get it and will just be-bop his way through life thinking that that song has a catchy tune (we already discussed this when I dissected Bruce Springsteen’s, “Born in the USA,” and wondered why anyone, anywhere would ever use that for their fourth of July celebration).

“Nigel’s whole future is as good as sealed,” is so ominous and so frightening under the guise of being upstanding and good. It’s like when you see a picture of John Wayne Gacy cheesin' it dressed like Pogo the clown when you know he’s secretly stuffing twinks in his crawl-space (are these analogies doing it for you yet?). 

I feel like I'm Nigel. I feel like my husband is Nigel. I feel like there are so many of us that are Nigel: with social deviants screaming inside of us. Aching to get out and set the nearest bank on fire and start bartering with goats and baked bread. 

My whole life seems to revolve around how I push dollars from one person to the next through spreadsheets and credits and re-bills and invoice history errors and dividends. My future was as good as sealed the day that I signed the FAFSA and said that I would spend the next four years spending forty-grand on a degree that would afford me to be so happy. I must be happy. I must be happy in this work.

We're waiting for the great leap forward.