Holed Up Inside

I've been holed up inside ALL DAY. No, more than that... ALL WEEK. Since LAST SATURDAY. And it's NOW WEDNESDAY. That's a PROBLEM, if my caps can't get that point across to you.

It would be fine if I had some awesome new book to rave about... but I don't. No, I have Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer. It's kind of sad because I couldn't read when we went to Target for Christmas shopping today (okay, maybe my holing-up hasn't been SO drastic) because I was too scared to take that book out in public. Can you imagine the humiliation? I even hid it under the seat so my mom's car wouldn't get keyed.

No, talking about books is out of the question. Nobody wants to hear about the Twilight saga, its hype is over (HALLELUJAH!). Instead, I've been occupying myself with music. And more Brian Regan, but I already buzzed about his hilariousness last post. Seriously, how much better can you get than "TAKE... LUCK!" or "When's that BABY due?"

Back on topic! My music buzz is going strong, with the new stuff I bought off iTunes. Got some Jet, some Shinedown, some Wallflowers... yeah, I have diverse music tastes. Got a problem? It's better than my friend Adrie... she gets all hyper-aggressive if you let her listen to too much Rage Against the Machine. But how can you not? I think everyone has that problem, they're pretty... Rage-ful.

I've been obsessed with One Headlight by the Wallflowers for oh, say... 24 hours now. I actually put my iPod on repeat last night and fell asleep to the song over and over, something I haven't done since Dani California hit its peak.

"Me and Cinderella... we put it all together..." *starts humming blissfully* This song originated as a Bass Lake song in my family, meaning it was playing incessantly one year on our big Bass Lake family vacation. Sure enough, I remember the first time I heard this song was... on a boat. Before I almost drowned tubing.

And now I introduce to you... Rag and Bone by the ONE AND ONLY WHITE STRIPES!!! I cannot impress upon you how great this band is. Two words: Jack White. Two more words: Meg White. Last two words, I swear: MUSICAL TALENT.

This song cracks me up. I love when he gets REALLY into it with the houses:

"Got plenty of places to go, lots of homes we ain't been to yet. West side, southwest side, middle-east, rich house, dog house, outhouse, old folks house, house for unwed mothers, halfway homes, catacombs, twilight zones. Looking for techniques, turntables to gramophones. So take a last lick of your ice cream cone. And lock up what you still want to own. But please be kind. And don't rewind."

He sounds so wound up! This song's unique (even for them) because Meg actually speaks up in it. You have to understand, she NEVER talks. Sure, she sings a couple tracks, but she's got anxiety problems and she's painfully shy so you almost never hear her talk. She never even talked this loud on their documentary, Under Great White Northern Lights (yes, I own it and have watched it obsessively, yes, the White Moon scene makes me tear up)!

Unfortunately the White Stripes seem to be over, which REALLY sucks because they're one of my favorite bands. It seems I always get into the good bands too late: White Stripes, Nirvana, the Beatles, Johnny Cash, Tori Amos... sure, Tori is still producing, but let's face it, everybody, her glory days are OVER.

But yeah, they're split up for now while Jack goes on to bigger (but probably not better, or as-good) things and Meg copes with her anxiety issues. Hopefully one day she'll get over them and the White Stripes will reunite, but until then, no dice.

For now, I'm stuck replaying their CDs endlessly (especially Get Behind Me, Satan) and trying to appreciate the Raconteurs or the Dead Weather. And they're good, but I miss Meg's simply epic drumming.