A song I know all the words to? Estas loca, 30 Day Challenge? I know the words to like, a good half of my iTunes playlist! That’s exaggerating, but I certainly know about 300 songs or more by heart!
How about I just go with my favorite song to sing that isn’t a Queen Barbra Streisand song (my top 5 favorite songs-to-sing are Barbra Streisand songs… so I’ll be nice and pick something else).
I pride myself on knowing all the words to some of Regina Spektor’s most ridiculous songs. One such song is Bobbing for Apples, but since it ends with rather raunchy and risqué lyrics, I’ll go with another wacky song of hers (which is also quite sad… no surprise there). The song is entitled Loveology, and unfortunately there is no Studio Recording of the song. There is only one live version that I have been able to find, and that is this version:
“Sit down class,
open up your textbooks to page forty-two.
Carology, busology, trainology, planeology.
Mamaology, papaology… youology, meology.
Loveology, kissology. Stayology, pleaseology.”
- Lacey: Ramon requested me as a facebook friend. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.
- Andrea: HE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU!
- Lacey: NO ANDREA. he's in love with you. Do not make me spread rumors about the two of you to your mom!
- Andrea: do you really wanna do that, Lacey? I have leverage on you. >:]
- Lacey: You do? And what kind of leverage would that be?
- Andrea: NO MORE INVITES TO DINNERS AT THE BEARD RESIDENCE.
- Lacey: Ramon? Who's Ramon?
Her name was Andrea
Making young boys hit puberty earliuh-uh-uh-uh
YOU ARE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SOUL.
This is Manu’s response to my earlier lamenting about not having a song ever written about me. Or just Andrea’s in general. :’)
Andrea and I were going to do this but it’s so mainstream. So instead we’re going to drift into the sand. We are going to hit up the Mojave Desert this summer.
wassup, hateonit~ <3
Letter to Virginia Woolf, written by Vita Sackville-West
I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia.I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your undumb letters, would never write so elementary a phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I’ believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you more than I could’ve believed, and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature! I shan’t make you love me anymore bu giving myself away like this, but oh—my fear, I cannot be clever and stand-offish with you. I love you far too much for that. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defenses.
And I don’t really resent it.
A lot of songs remind me of a lot of different people. That’s one of the most magical things about music, its ability to flood memories back into a person’s mind. But what can I say for this entry? Britney songs remind me of Manu. Fall Out Boy reminds me of Lacey and her sister, Kaley. Trashy music like Miley Cyrus and Ke$ha remind me of Jared. Indie music will forever remind me of Ryan, and Metallica and Megadeth remind me of Tylor.
But I suppose I’ll be heartfelt with this one. You know the song, “You Are My Sunshine”? That song will never NOT remind me of my Nana and Tata. I mean, it’s not like my Nana ever sang it to me. But my Tata always sang it to me when I was a little girl. Every time I’d visit him and Nana, he and I would sit down together and he’d sing it to me. But he would always tell a story before he sang it, about how he loved the melody but never knew the words in English. So one day he asked someone to write the words down for him in English so that he could sing it to me.
There are many pretty versions of this song on the Internet, but none compare to my Tata’s.