On Having A Song Stuck In Your Head All Weekend

My weekend was ruined.

All because of one song.

It all started Friday night, when I went to the dance. I danced to this one song, “Shut Up and Dance,” by Walk the Moon (which is not Walk Off the Earth), and fortunately, Emily was there to tell me the song’s title and artist. That reminded me of another song which I had heard several times, that sounded sort of similar, but not exactly the same.

And of course, I couldn’t remember a single lyric.

I knew the general tune, and that it went “boom boom boom” something, and I knew that if I heard it just once, I’d be like, oh, of course, that song. Friday came and went, but by yesterday afternoon, after dance class, I was humming the song in my head again. I just couldn’t get it out. And the worst part was that I didn’t even know what I was singing.

And it was tearing me to pieces.

I kept thinking of every single other similar sounding song: “Drive By,” (Train); “50 Ways to Say Goodbye” (Train); “Maps” (Maroon 5); “Animals” (Maroon 5); “Counting Stars” (One Republic); “My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Fall Out Boy); “Glad You Came” (The Wanted)…and that was when I realized that three-quarters of the songs released by male artists in the last five years all sound exactly the same.

Anyway, I was up until 3 AM last night, going to extreme measures. I was using up my bandwidth to listen to every song by every group from the last five years that sounded even remotely similar to the one I was looking for. I scoured Wikipedia, Google, and SoundsJustLike.com for anything to trigger a memory. Today, I even made a Pandora channel for “50 Ways” in hopes that that song would come up (strangely, I got a lot of Adele, not that I’m complaining). It was literally pounding at my frontal lobe; no grading, no homework, just find that damn song so you can get some sleep tonight. It wasn’t until I downloaded Spotify and played two full playlists of contemporary 127 BPM or higher jive songs that I finally found it. Then I realized that it’s Sunday night and I’ve barely made a dent in grading.

And that’s how to ruin a perfectly good weekend by looking for a song.

I guess after all that, I should let you know what the song was…but I won’t!




…Just kidding, it was “Runaway Baby” by Bruno Mars. Have a listen.


Awkward Things That Happened to Me This Weekend

I haven’t had a good life-related list post for awhile, so here it goes:

1. When someone asks you for “an idea” for a play and you can’t tell whether they’re trying to get you to do the work for them or not.

2. When a bottle of aspirin opens at the bottom of your backpack and when you dump the bag, a giant pile of pills falls out.

3. When there’s so much stuff on your floor you have to play leapfrog just to get to the door.

4. When you get cinnamon raisin bagel chips that look great, taste horrible, but you can’t stop eating them anyway.

5. When you realize that you’re worried/upset/preoccupied about something that has no chance of changing, and that it’s just a giant waste of time.

6. When your dance instructor texts you during a dance class. At least now I know that my voltas are better and I need to straighten my leg more on the third forward step of my lock step.

7. When you legit run out of tissues. Actual terrifying moment.

8. When you realize that you haven’t been to the gym since Sunday, but you’ve danced for at least an hour for 5 days in a row.

9. When you do laundry, and realize that you still have piles of folded laundry to be put away from the last time you did laundry.

10. When you realize that you probably need to get your students’ papers back to them next week at the latest. Fluck.



On Packing it In

Me, this morning:

Man, I’m going to get so much done today.

Me, this afternoon:

Okay, so I did laundry and ate gross plain yogurt, it’s a good day. Oh wait, I had a lunch thing. Oh good, I’m only a few minutes late. ::goes to lunch, has a great time::

Me, slightly later:

Shoot, production meeting. Cool, I’m like totally just about on time. ::goes to production meeting, it goes fine::

Me, slightly later:

I should eat something. ::eats sushi and half a challah::

Me, slightly later:

I should get dressed for services. ::gets dressed, goes to services, woefully late, yawns the whole time, pretends to be exhausted but plans to go back home and go to the gym::

Me, slightly later:

I should get ready for the gym, but first, watch some funny TV to pump myself up. ::takes off clothes::

Oh, hey bed, let’s catch up.

Me, slightly later:

::opens eyes:: Wait, was I sleeping? For how long? It’s 9 PM and the gym closes at 10. Fuck. At least I still have some of that challah left, and my pajamas are right here. ::eats food, puts on pajamas, forgets about going to the gym, watches YouTube for like two hours::

Me, now:

I should have done something productive today, like read from my pile of books or vacuum or cook or clean out the fridge. Welp, at least I’m in bed with my laptop on my chest at a decent hour.

Me, a few hours in the future:

I’m still awake and I regret everything. Another wasted Friday. Fuck.


My WordStrips Addiction Is No Longer Fiction

I was up way too late the other night but I beat this month’s WordStrips high score, not that it matters.

I need a life.

I need a life.

Yes, just over two thousand points for the word “MADE.” I’m glad I made this screenshot at that moment, because I knocked myself out the next round after being a one letter move away from making “MESA.”

Oh, and big welcomes to Namibia and Zimbabwe, who made their way here for the first time. Come back and bring friends.