"They can't all be ballads, Julian."

I took a walk to the far away drugstore this afternoon to get some supplies that would help me in my whittling down (no, I wasn't procrastinating, the closer-by drugstore didn't have what I needed... and yes, it's ironic that I needed to buy things to help me get rid of things).

ANYWAY, Kimya Dawson accompanied me on my iPod. I couldn't help but think that the mostly upbeat but completely somber songs were so inappropriate for such a lovely day. (Another fine reason why I'm moving to Portland. "Goin' where the climate suits my songs...")

It reminded me of my freshman year of college. Pearl Jam's "Ten" came out a few months earlier, and on any given sunny afternoon you could walk through the quad and hear "Porch" or "Black" blaring from a dorm room's open window. It was such a refreshing change from Bob Marley or the Grateful Dead, also prevalently wafting out of dorm room windows that year. (And every year prior and every year to follow, I would imagine.)

So for a little while today I felt slightly hip, or at least 10 years younger. And it was good.