February Emo

You know, a wise, wise girl once said to me, “It’s February, I think it was established to crush your soul.” This wise girl was Liz, and it was yesterday. But regardless, I think she’s right. I’m having a really rough month. Work has been hell since they fired the temp, and I’ve had to take on double my normal workload. I can’t decide what I want to be when I grow up, or more accurately, whether it’s worth it for me to go back to school for the next 3-4 years at night while working full-time to get my BSBA and move up in Human Resources. Also, I’m creatively frustrated, both with music and writing. Finally, I’m frustrated by the unkindness of some people in my life. Maybe I’m going soft as I’m getting older, but I honestly no longer have any patience for the abrasiveness and lack of consideration I find in others.

I’m whiny.

My friends, I’m afraid I’m losing my grip on being NOTemo. I’ve spent the last eight years toeing the line (since 1999, when The Get Up Kids came out with “Something to Write Home About,” and I was a junior in high school and my life seriously changed. I stopped brushing my hair and started wearing little kids’ t-shirts. Dude. It was 1999. You weren’t cool either. And it’s still a great album.) Then throughout college, I may have slipped across the line into the emo side a few times (and really, who didn’t?), but for the most part, I think I kept it together.

But now, I’m just not so sure. Next thing you know, I’m going to be looking for a d00d like this:

(he was the first hit when I Google-image searched “emo”) and you know, talking about how FUCKING AMAZING The Arcade Fire is (gah!), and instead of constantly pushing my bangs out of my face, I’ll just let them hang over my eye, all Myspace-y like this broad:


and wear big old emo glasses like this:


Oh wait. Buddy Holly rules. OH! That reminds me. Was anyone else vaguely offended by the hair dye ad during the Super Bowl with Sheryl Crow that featured the Buddy Holly song “Not Fade Away,” which is, in my humble opinion, a beautifully unpretentious love song? Now used to hawk hair dye? Lame. Anyway.
I digress. Point is, I’m being emo, and I need to stop. So please-- shake me, slap me, kick me in the face. I need to buck up or shut up. Let’s go get real drunk and bash in some windshields, or something ridiculous and destructive and not emo at all! Help me.