About a Spring Hill Fair

I watched About a Boy today and it really moved me. I liked it the first time I saw it, but today was different, today it really got to me, especially the part where Hugh Grant realizes that his life is meaningless. Is my life meaningless too? I am a lot like Hugh Grant's character is in the first half of the movie: we're both alright with living most of my life alone. I see now it's a pretty sad and selfish way to live my life. Starting today, I'm going to do something about it. I don't know what I'll do just yet, but I'm going to do it.

And now for something completely different, I thought I'd bore you all and tell you that I've lost my copy of the Go-Between's Spring Hill Fair. It's the remastered version with the second disc of bonus tracks, and it's been missing for maybe a couple of months already. I think I took it with me to the car on a special (for me at least) day, maybe after accepting my job, maybe after my last exam, to celebrate with some nice car music afterward, and I might have dropped it in a parking lot somewhere.

I miss that cd so much. One night two weeks ago I dreamt I found it under the TV table and I was so happy that I told myself in my dream to check under there when I woke up. It wasn't there. It might seem funny that I'm so bummed over losing this album; after all, I have all the tracks in my mp3 player. But the physical thing itself means so much to me: the cd's themselves, the jewel case with the tray that flips over, the thick booklet with great liner notes with the great cover with the colorful lettering.

I can always buy another copy, but that's beside the point. I love that particular copy of that particular album so much because it was what really introduced me to the wonderful world of the Go-Betweens (I bought their Lost Album first, which is not the best place to start). I love that album because there's no need to say that it's a great bunch of songs because, hey, it's the Go-Betweens. I love that album because Andrew Mueller's liner notes really capture the love one feels for the band once one is sucked in to their world. I love that album because we came together during what I felt (at the time) was a rough patch (girl trouble, naturally). This last bit is very important because the best time to experience the Go-Betweens is when one is in, falling out of, or being kicked in the head by love, which--in my case--is all the time, whether I'm aware of it or not.

I like to imagine that a beautiful girl found my copy, listened to it, and fell in love with it and the mystery boy who lost it, kind of like an episode of Boy Meets World. If that didn't happen, hopefully someone picked it up and began a new life with the Go-Betweens a big part of it. Chances are though that whoever found it couldn't make heads or tails of it and threw it away or sold it. And it's entirely his loss.

Oh, the Suspense!

It's the eve of my first day at work, and I'm nervous. Just thought I'd put that out there. Wish me luck, let's cross our fingers that I don't get fired.

The other night I made gnocchi from scratch. Gnocchi, which is pronounced "nyaw-key" and not "guh-naw-chee" like I thought, is an Italian kind of, uh, thing made of boiled, rolled-up dough. I made the dough out of sweet potatoes and flour by hand. I got the recipe from the paper earlier this week. When I first tried the gnocchi, I hadn't let the sauce cook for long enough so the arugula in it made everything really bitter and I refused to eat anymore that night. But I let the sauce cook a little more, the arugula wilted some more and eventually it all tasted very good, much to my surprise. At first I thought we'd end up throwing the leftovers out, but I finished them for lunch today.

So there, I cooked. Feel free to make fun. Wish me luck again.