An excerpt from his master's thesis (which he is letting me read) entitled: Changes and Trends in the American Film Industry and Their Impact on the Vietnam Subgenre, 1965-1990:

This thesis documents significant changes in Hollywood from the birth of the Vietnam subgenre in the mid-1960s to its notable fall in popularity at the close of the 1980s. This is the story of the filmmakers behind the pictures, the audiences that supported the films, and the industry that effectively crushed the subgenre's popularity by the close of the decade.

DO - YOU - SEE - WHAT - I'M - SAYING?!!

he's good for me and he told me I was good for him, too
now, I don't want to jump into anything
I've been trying to use some self restraint
but man it's amazing he's the same kind of crazy as me
...
ain't no doubt about it he's the same kind of crazy as me
wild, wild nights, chasin' each other through the moonlight
my, my , my, I finally got something just right
'cause every little off-beat move that he makes suits me to a tee
you know what I'm sayin', he's the same kind of crazy as me

---

So, I will briefly tell you about "The Boy" who is officially my boyfriend, you know, like we're in middle school or something.

His name is Wes.  He's 24.  He's getting his PhD in history.  He knows more about movies than any person I've met in my life and he loves the Oscars.  He's mad brilliant and his mind is really sexy. He's the same kind of crazy as me.  The first time we met, which was for lunch, we talked 45 minutes straight, all about film.  But we don't just talk about movie plots, we cover everything from box office to cultural impact, it is a conversation that never stops.

He found me RIGHT HERE on the myspace and we met a day later (that was just two weeks ago) and we've been pretty much inseperable since then.  A mutual affection for Thelma Schoonmaker united us.  He has these amazing eyes that are a light sea-green he insists on calling hazel, he's tall and big, and has a messy shock of sandy hair I love to tangle my fingers in.  We want to be together all the time and it's really quite irritating and yet intoxicating.

One hesistates to use the word but...destiny!  DESTINY!

He loves to tuck my hair back behind my ears and has found the perfect spot to kiss on my neck.  We exchange half a dozen e-mails a day and understand the vital need to be left the fuck alone sometimes.

Sometimes I will say, "You are a strange, strange boy."

And he knows that the correct response is always, "You are a strange, strange girl."

In the middle of our first make-out session, I began rambling about While You Were Sleeping which somehow then culminated in him quoting Alien.  This cracked us both up, and we had to take a break from kissing to press our foreheads together and giggle.

And I think this tells you everything you need to know about me and Wes.

At least for now. 

---

(coming soon: pictures!)

The screen door slams
Mary's dress waves
Like a vision she dances across the porch
As the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey that's me and I want you only
Don't turn me home again
I just can't face myself alone again
Don't run back inside
darling you know just what I'm here for
So you're scared and you're thinking
That maybe we ain't that young anymore
Show a little faith, there's magic in the night
You ain't a beauty, but hey you're alright
Oh and that's alright with me
-the first verse of Thunder Road

So, I love changing the display name here on the myspace.  Usually, it's a line from a song - but it's been all kinds of weird things.  Funny in jokes that only make sense if you're super into U2, for instance. (Oy Vey, Mama!)  And sometimes it's songs I only like a little but that have killer titles/themes/vibes.  (An Army of Me) But, almost always, I use a lyric.  (Your Gypsy Heart)

I just changed it this week, to a paraphrased lyric from the song above, the lyric that comes right after what was my last screen name.  And when I was changing it, I wondered if people would understand why I chose to

I mean, it's not really a kosher thing to say about yourself, right?  I'm not a beauty, but, hey, I'm alright.  It's...kinda an insult, right?

But what I love about that song (which is one of my top five songs of all time.) what I really get about it is -- it's not an insult at all.

It's pretty much the best thing this guy can say to this girl.  It's the most honest thing he can say anyway.  And that is really what I love the most about Thunder Road - there's no bullshit in it.  There's optimism and hope and an angry defiance, but there's no bullshit. 

He's standing in front of her with his hands and his heart open, telling her the truth and challenging her.  He is saying: I know you are scared.  I know it is hard.  I know you're not sure what's going to happen next.  I know that I don't have all the answers.  But let's go ... because together, we can make a go of it and be scared together.

Thunder Road is definitely the song that defined my first semester here in Mississippi, and I guess there's some sentiment attached to it...but it's more than that. 

Look, the thing is --- I'm not a pretty girl.  I know this.  I have known this my whole life.  People don't even know what color my eyes are, they sit two feet away from me and can't remember, because they never look past my glasses.  (uh, blue for the record.  But people pretty much say anything but blue.)

This is not a surprise, not something I've never realized.  It's not me running myself down, it's not me soliciting compliments or reassurance.  It's just the truth.  I'm not cute.  I'm not a pretty girl.  I mean, I'm not hideously ugly, cowering in a corner covering my face or anything, but I'm...well, I'm plain. 

I ain't a beauty. 

And that's alright. 

No one is ever going to love me, heck even like me or crush on me, because of the way I look. 

And that's alright.

Because I don't need that.  What I need is a man standing on my porch, asking me not to be afraid, asking me to show a little faith.  What I need is a man who will tell me that he knows that I know that I ain't a beauty ... but that it's not what it's about for me ... or for him.

I know this about Thunder Road - I know that Mary, she of the waving dress, ain't a beauty.  But there's something in her, something brave and hard and brilliant and determined, that makes the man on her front porch, the man singing this song, want her.  Something in her that makes him believe in her.  Know her.  Challenge her. 

I ain't a beauty, but I can have that.  I will have that.  When I find the right guy.  Someone brave and hard and brilliant and determined ... who will know that *I* will see him the same way he is seeing me: through the fear and the bullshit and down to the core of who he is.

Some ordinary guy, some real fucking guy, standing on my porch, watching my dress wave in the wind and asking me to take a chance on everything uncertain and unknown in his life -- to take a chance on him.

A guy who says: you ain't a beauty, but, hey, you're alright. 

A guy who knows what that means to me.

And my car's out back
If you're ready to take that long walk
From your front porch to my front seat
The door's open but the ride it ain't free
And I know you're lonely
For words that I ain't spoken
But tonight we'll be free
All the promises'll be broken

snag a copy of Thunder Road

Dear Bono,

HAPPY 46TH BIRTHDAY! 

I was listening to this interview with you at Rolling Stone and it reminded me of an interview you gave to this Irish morning show the night after the Grammys this year.  You were sitting out in a parking lot, drinking champagne, totally drunk.  And I listened to you rambling about hanging out with Kanye West and how you were still, after all these years, so clearly excited and dazzled to just be ... well-liked and famous and ... I was filled with such an unspeakable love for you.

I know that lately it seems like I have been cheating on you with Bruce Springsteen.  I probably have, a little.  But I know you understand, because, you know.  He's Bruce Springsteen.  You love him and he loves you.  And if I ever got some kind of awful disease I was dying from and I got one of those Make A Wish last wishes I would wish for a night drinking with the two of you, because that would pretty much be the best thing I could imagine.

Wait, sorry, I was actually imagining that ...

However, I feel like it's important for me to say: I will love other bands, and other artists, and other music.  Love them passionately and foolishly and largely and devotedly.  But they ... whoever they are and whatever albums they record and however great they are in concert with this fucking amazing ten minute version of You Can Look (But You Better Not Touch) that leaves me literally stomping around in mud, begging for more, and actually screaming at the top of my lungs ... 

they will never be you.  They will never be your band. 

There will never be another U2 in my life.  There will never need to be.  Because your music is the music of my whole life.  Totally true story I have only shared with Whitney:

a week or so ago, I was having one of the worst days that I can remember.  Of ever.  I was just ... at the end of everything.  And I didn't want anything or anyone and I just couldn't stop crying.

Do you know what I did?  I put on some U2 and concentrated on breathing really deeply and calming myself down. 

And I listened to your voice, I listened to your band, and I felt something good and honest and untouchable and sacred and special in me.  And I knew ... I knew that I was going to OK.  That everything was going to be OK. 

Cat and I have talked about how The Big Spank saved her life, but, moreover, that music saved her life.  I did not understand that, I did not know that, until you and your band became an inseperable part of my daily life.

So, happy birthday, to my favorite rock star: who understands that music is joy and that it's always better to grow old than burn out, who wants to save the whole world and still wear designer clothes and sunglasses. 

I can never express to you how much love and happiness and comfort and inspiration and solace you and your music have brought me. 

Thanks, Paul Hewson, for being in this world and for having big, wild dreams and spending your life dreaming them out-loud.  I've been so lucky to hear and see them, to be a part of them.

Biggest Love,

Angie~

PS:
I love Africa too.  And I think the rest of the world needs to pay attention to what's happening there.  But, really, um, could you...work on, like, recording a new album sooner than, uh, two years from now?  Please?

Dude, considering the reason I signed up for myspace in the first place ...

[ohmygod, you would not believe me if I told you.  It involved...a boy.]

There's an amazing amount of old-school Raton people rocking it here.  HELLO RATON HIGH CLASS OF 1996 -- EVERYONE GET YOUR ASS TO THE REUNION!!! :-D  And comment here while you're at it.