I Can't Stand To Fly...You Finally Find, You And I Collide...

Norwegian Recycling - How 6 Songs Collide

Now if you haven't listened to Norwegian Recycling, shame on you. Granted, I just love mash-ups, but he's super good. So "How 6 Songs Collide" is his most popular, but I'm a fan of "Sorry For I Mashed You," "No Taylor, No Scar," and "Hey Oh Tonight." And as usual, I have his albums if you'd like them.

But at least listen to all of "How 6 Songs Collide." Especially you, ObnoxiouslyHappySister. Because I know you'll love it. And once you start listening to them, you won't be able to stop. You know when you start smoking crack? It's like that.

I'm currently keeping GayRoommate awake making him listen to them. But I don't really know if it counts as making him, because he stopped complaining a minute into the first song, and when I was going to stop a few songs ago, he says "you know, I guess it doesn't bother me that much." He's currently sitting up in bed, swaying.


Oh, and so for the first time since July, not counting last weekend, when I was home for Thanksgiving, I will not have football on a Saturday. I don't know what I'll do with myself. I'll have so much free time. It'll be ridiculous.


So tonight, I'm sitting in the library. I get bored with studying, so I take a break, and I'm writing a song in my Moleskine that I was semi-thinking about all day. After I'm writing for a couple minutes, I set it down, and the the girl sitting next to me in my little cubicle dealio says to me, "can I read your poem?"

I didn't really know what to say. I mean, it would go against so many things. For one, I almost never show people my songs (plus, she called it a poem...what does she think I am? An english major?). Also, I never show people my songs when I'm not finished with them yet. But then again, I've never had a stranger ask to read one. I was at a moral impass. I figured I'd improv.

"Well, I mean, it's not finished yet."

"That's okay. I'd still like to read it."

"Even though it's not done?"

"Yeah."

"And I mean, it's a song. It's not really as good for reading..." (A bit of a reach, yes, but I was desperate)

"Oh can you sing it?!"

"Um...here you can read it."


I realized that giving it to her to read was going to be my best option. Because, and I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm what we like to call vocally challenged. I sing, and small children and old women cry. And once I was singing in the kitchen, and I saw ShortRoomate eyeing a large knife, no doubt either to silence me or to commit hari-kari.

So singing was out of the question. But she read it, and handed it back to me and says, "that was really good! Can I keep it?"

"Wait, keep what?"

"The song!"

"I mean, okay I guess?"

"Thanks!" She then unceremoniously tore it from the Moleskine, and a little part of me died.


So it's tough to say if she actually enjoyed it or was just being polite, but I'm going to go ahead and believe the first, because it makes me happy.


Oh, and for those of you following the crazy girl saga, she has yet to call to apologize. It's tough to say what the deal is.