Jan. 21st, 2011

duckduckthrall: (Default)
Every night you cry yourself to sleep, thinking why does this happen to me, why does every moment have to be so hard?

I do believe that, it's not over tonight, just give me one more chance to make it right. I will not make it through the night, I won't go home without you.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is me having a song in my head. Also, this treatise is supposed to be about Alanis Morissette, not Maroon 5. If it were about Maroon 5, I would just listen to all the songs, and type along with the songs.

So, Alanis. You know, I wasn't ever her biggest fan until Grade 10 English class when the girl who sat behind me insulted her music, and I turned around and said, "Well, actually, I *love* Alanis Morissette's music, so shut the fuck up." Except, in Grade 10, I didn't swear at people. Then I turned around and was quietly whatthefucked to myself and wondered why I had so staunchly felt the need to defend Alanis. After that class, I made it my mission to fall in love with her music. Just so I didn't make a liar out myself. Turns out I should baselessly defend artists more often, because it turned out I really *did* love her music. And spelled her last name wrong for years - WHY ARE THERE SO MANY DOUBLE LETTERS, AND YET AT THE SAME TIME SO FEW?

My defense of her wasn't entirely baseless. It was just based on two songs: Ironic (here's a hint, Alanis: it's not ironic, it's just bad luck) and Head Over Feet, which, if you think about it, is not a good representation of an artist. I would later hear You Oughta Know, which I can sing the ever-loving fuck out of in Rock Band, with all the bitterness intended in that song. Ruy has wondered why. I just shrug. I don't really tell him I spent a good many years being bitter and cynical, most of them high school. I will always remember driving around with my sister in my parents' new car (at the time), which had a CD player (which was a big thing, since, you know, the car we were replacing was an '86, and the next latest one was a '93, and the current year was *2003* - *and* we skipped right over the era of tape players in cars), blasting Alanis, and singing loudly (we were awesome). I will also remember finding out that You Oughta Know was supposedly written about Dave Coulier, which, ewwwwww. Somehow, that grosses me out less now, but at the time, wow.

I spent literally the entire last year of high school, surviving by listening to the album Under Rug Swept, which my sister obtained semi-legally for me while she was in Vietnam for work. Actually, the reason why Alanis made it onto the list of things to write about in the first place was because of the song 21 Things I Want In A Lover, which popped into my head while I was trying to decide 12 Things I Wanted To Write A Treatise About. I'm sorry, 12 Things About Which I Wanted To Write A Treatise. It amazes me that I first learned how to properly not end a sentence in a preposition (ha, I just wrote proposition - I should end *all* my sentences in propositions), because we had to learn about it for French. I can never understand how this *vital piece of knowledge* was never taught to us in English class, but was essential for French.

I could identify with every single song on that album, because I was 17, I would never have anyone love me, and I was suffering from as-yet-undiagnosed depression. I wrote several completely bullshitted (bullshat?) essays for English 12 the night before they were due, to the accompaniment of Precious Illusions. I aced every single one of those essays, was top student in English 12 in my year that year, and suddenly realized I could write. I bet it was the French prepositions that did it.

When So-Called Chaos came out, I had just gotten my first real job, which I hated and would come home during my lunch hour to cry about. I had also discovered Stargate SG-1 that April, Season 7 had just finished, we had yet to see about Season 8, and I so loved the fics about Jack and Sam having been promoted, before they were actually promoted. It was a glorious time in my personal fandom. Except when I burst into tears in a hotel bathroom in Boston after reading about Affinity. I don't think I'd quite learned to live in my own little delusion yet. See also the as-yet-undiagnosed depression. I cried about a lot of things.

Again, I identified with every song on that album, and it still stands as my favourite of her albums, if only for the fact that just listening to a song brings me back to the summer I turned 19, and all that angst I felt. Also, all the hate I felt for my boss at the time. I got up in the morning to Eight Easy Steps, discovered that the only way Out Is Through (truly), and that maybe This Grudge hit a little close to home. I made it through that job, though. Thanks, Alanis.

I hear she had a baby over Christmas, which is, you know, something people do in life. However, did she really have to live up to the culture of being famous and having money, by giving her son the weirdest possible name? Seriously, what kind of a name is Ever? Here's a hint, it's not a name, it's a word. I mean, it's a nice word, a really great word, but it's still not a name. On that note, I must see how Ruy feels about Cauliflower as a baby name.

Also, it turns out I can totally bring this thing around full circle by mentioning that Alanis is a vegan. Somehow, I'm not surprised.

Word Count: 1016
Word Count to Date: 11200
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Word Count: 238
Word Count to Date: 11438

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