Giant wave

Last weekend, I was making my merry way up the path of peaceful contentment when a huge wave of ennui rolled in. Knocked me into a ditch. Took me three days to crawl out.

The soundtrack to “Three Days in a Ditch” was Stars. I saw them on Friday with Broken Social Scene at the Marquee. Both bands were fabulous, but Stars just about made me weep, they were that good. It’s not that their music is depressing – in fact, it’s quite uplifting. But that was the problem. I went home with a full heart and still no one to give it to. The next day had the gall to come up sunny. I spent the day wandering around the house trying to distract myself with a dust rag. Humming. “Live through this and you won’t look back.”

Consequently, I was very happy with Sunday's blizzard. I hid in my pyjamas all day. Grown ups don’t cry because there’s no one to love them. No, no. I made osso bucco, for one, and pounded the dining room with fat, alien chord clusters. Hoping I won't hear the next wave when it comes crashing in.