My laptop was recently stolen and, with it, all of my music. (Not backed up, of course. Who has the time?) In the reacquisition of my library, some clever friend handed me a flash drive full of emo. (I’m not pointing fingers–I honestly don’t know which of you yay-hoos it was.)
Anyway, just for S&G’s, I gave the ol’ Dashboard Confessional a listen. My favorite artist freshman year of college, I thought it might be nostalgic to revisit 2000-2001. The time before iPods when I listened to “The Swiss Army Romance” and “The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most” in the cold weather on my Discman.
During the first couple of songs I was all, “YEAH! COLLEGE!” But about five songs in, I started questioning my sanity. What was I, a cutter? Jesus Christ, this shit is awful. What did I possibly do for fun my first year in New York City? Have my friends over to my dorm room and sit in a circle crying? If this is what I listened to on repeat, wearing out tons of double A batteries (and killing the environment), no wonder I was on antidepressants for 10 years. Could someone have please introduced the 18 year-old me to Ricky Martin? La fucking Vida Loca or some shit.