"Sometimes you are aware when your great moments are happening, and sometimes they rise from the past. Perhaps it's the same with people."
                              --James Salter, Burning the Days 
                                                           [As quoted in David Nicholl's One Day, which I happened to read at just the right time last summer.]

we'll be back soon/you're my favorite one

My sister and I decided that Mikel Jollett from The Airborne Toxic Event is my musical soulmate. (Jesse McCartney is my acting soulmate, in case you were wondering.)

Last Friday, we went to see them play at The Depot in Salt Lake. I was ecstatic!

The band that opened for them was horrible. Like ear-bleeding bad. As I listened and laughed at the delusional frontman, I started to get scared. What if it didn't live up to my expectations? I was worried that I dragged my sister to a concert with an effeminate male reeking of pot dancing ridiculously and the worst sound system ever, with nothing redeeming to find.

But the racket of the first band eventually came to an end, and our ears were left ringing.

As soon as The Airborne Toxic Event took the stage, I had a feeling the night would end well.

I've yet to meet a song of theirs I don't like. Seriously, I can't get enough. It's the violin and bass (and the bassist--a little obsessed) and Jollett's ragged voice. But mostly it's the lyrics.

Literary. Profound. My own thoughts, but prettier. They even use the word feral.

At one point, Mikel Jollett (the main singer and writer) started to climb on the speakers and reached up to grab a speaker bar, like he was seeing if he could hang and swing on it. It's dumb, but it's something I would do, and it only made his stories more like my stories.

It was the best show I have ever been to. It was one of those nights that lets you live in it for a while longer because it knows you belong there, in that one particular moment. So I savored and sang to every song.

They played two encores, one of which was acoustic, which just unhinges me.

I think a lot of people think their lyrics are depressing and cynical. And I get that. But that's not what I hear.

I've always loved this by Oscar Wilde found in the preface to The Picture of Dorian Gray: "All art is at once surface and symbol. Those who go beneath the surface do so at their peril. Those who read the symbol do so at their peril. It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors."

In the songs I heard last Friday, I see glimpses of myself. And it's beautiful. The reality of fully feeling, even when you just feel damaged. There's a hope in that. In realizing that you have to mend yourself. I was a little disappointed they didn't play one of my favorites at the concert; it's one of my pep talk songs. "Strange Girl." We traded blindness for some wisdom and some lines around the eyes. But you just act like it was a fact of life. It didn't come as a surprise.

Some things aren't black and white. And happiness is one of those things. The music from The Airborne Toxic Event reminds me that reality is an often astounding paradox. And I choose to see love in the symbols.

Now go get lost in their YouTube channel.

At 22

I should hate that I always have dirt under my fingernails, even when I've spent the day reading or just hanging around indoors, but I love it. It makes me feel adventurous.

I have zero interest in owning a smartphone.

I have this insaitable need to own all my favorite books. I am close to finishing up my collection (for now). After psychoanalyzing myself, I feel this stems from a basic instinct to be remembered and to leave some kind of mark on the world because no one really knows all of me, and right now it's not looking like I will be adding my genes to the pool anytime soon. Somehow I feel that the sum of the pages could let people know who I am.

More than anything, I want to play the role of the girl-next-door in a teen drama, preferably set in a quaint coastal town.

For some unfathomable reason, I am still not sick of Gotye's "Somebody That I Used to Know" and never change the station when it plays.

I can't help but watch The Breakfast Club every time it's on TV.

One day I would like to receive an old fashioned love letter in my mailbox.

I think I'd like to be involved in politics, but don't know that I like any of the career steps that would take me there.

When it comes to people flying, I think it's possible that it's possible.

Today while watching home movies, my dad said that I hadn't changed much. We were watching a scene of us at the park. I was ten and hanging upside down on the playground. He meant that I hadn't really aged physically, which was a nice exaggeration, but I think it's more true of my personality. Luckily I am more camera shy and have straighter teeth, but I can still play. I love that I can let myself be naive and just have fun.