I was sitting in my hall’s reception area yesterday feeling unusually low (tough day in school, hacking cough, debating/organ-playing stress) and slightly resentful at the person who hadn’t turned up for reception duty, even A.H.W.O.S.G (which I’m loving, and will probably rave about in the near future) failing to rouse me out of listlessness, when Virgin Radio (not my channel, but the office radio can’t seem to receive Xfm) started Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of.
(I think I’ve written about it before. The pop song you sneer at when you are at your most cynical becomes your Dawson’s Creek pensive moment soundtrack when you’re at your most vulnerable, and suddenly the lyrics seem to speak to you when before they were nothing more than pleasant but gooey sounds to move your mouth to and hopelessly garble from time to time, and before you know it you’re writing blog posts quoting song lyrics that aren’t hiply oblique (e.g. Can’t catch me, I’m syntax free – “The Ineffable Me”, Sonic Youth) like they’re supposed to be in order to meet the indie coolness criteria, but they really are speaking to you, they really are…)
And you are such a fool
To worry like you do
I know it’s tough
And you can never get enough
Of what you don’t really need now
During Benediction I was more distracted than I should have been, mulling over various mull-issues, thinking maybe what I needed was to get out of the house, maybe go to a movie by myself, maybe Amelie for feelgoodness. Found out after Benediction (the organ playing was relatively hitch-free, hooray) that Alec was thinking of seeing it too, tagged along with him. Liked it a lot but didn’t absolutely love it – a little too many shots of Audrey Tautou being gamine, which got mildly tiresome after the initial charm wore off, but I did enjoy many of its other little touches: the jet-setting garden gnome, the bullied artichoke-caressing veggie stall helper, the girl at the centre of Renoir’s painting but not really there at all, the jealous ex-boyfriend cataloguing perceived flirtations (time-stamped) into his tape recorder.
Talking outside the pub after the movie, I realized with relief that I hadn’t actually become recently socially dysfunctional (which I’d been wondering about), I’d just gotten rather tired of group conversations with people I’d just met and needed one-on-one conversations that went beyond the polite, chirpy “How are YOU” barrier to recharge.
There was also the matter of the pig keychain which ballooned shit out of its arse, but you really just had to be there.
It’s just a moment
This time will pass
It did. I’m glad.