Young Folks

I'm by no means James Blunt's biggest fan, but I love his cover of "Young Folks," originally by Peter, Bjorn, and John.



I first heard the original at my brother's house in Melbourne, FL. I had been really stressed out in Philadelphia for one reason or another, but mostly just worn down from the grind of city life. I went to Eric's for the weekend, and awoke the first morning in a quiet, cool room illuminated by the bright, yet unoppressive sunlight filtering in through the blinds. Eric had "Young Folks" playing in the living area and was the first thing I heard upon waking. As I lay, rested and content, the lyrics (and cheerful whistling!) drifted into my room and bound themselves to the feelings I savored in that moment: peace, familiarity, and relaxation that can only be achieved in a home* environment. Not only is "Young Folks" a good song, but it also immortalized my comfortable tangle of just-waking-up thoughts...which I think is the real reason I love it so much.

In other obscure music news, Feist was on Sesame Street:



Awesome. Seriously.

These are a few of the thoughts running through my head right now:

I have no idea why I love Bikram Yoga so much, because I feel extremely uncomfortable in this heat and humidity. My hair doesn't like it either. Before moving here, if someone told me that completely-straight hair could frizz, I would not believe him for a second.

Despite living in Pennsylvania (at least off-and-on) for 5 years, I still feel completely taken by small wonders such as lightning bugs and trees that bloom.

I really love the Penguins' Winter Classic jerseys. I'd be tickled pink to have a Sykora one. Partially because my lucky number is 17.

I have a party dress that I love and looks great on me (if I may say so!) but haven't found occasion to wear.

Yup. Still obsessed with LOLspeak. It just never gets old.

I could really use some chapstick.

I feel better, stronger, faster, and more comfortable being in my own body with each passing day as I shed the evidence of my last horrible flare. Literally: shed.

I have crushes on vampires in books. Like, heart-aching, puppy-dog, middle school crushes. Specifically Edward Cullen from Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight" series, Constantine in Robin McKinley's "Sunshine," and currently William Compton in Charlaine Harris's "Southern Vampire" series. Seriously...these vampires are so dreamy.

I wonder why I twirl my hair around my finger without thinking about it when I'm tired. I've done this since I was a wee Sherri. At least I don't suck my thumb anymore.

I find beauty in function.

I just found out that Clifford the Big Red Dog is a vizsla! I love vizslas.

And lastly, I don't care what anyone says; I do believe there are still many mysteries left in the world. I hope some remain undiscovered.

Ok kids, time for bed.

*NOTE: Since I moved across the country for college, I stopped defining "home" exclusively as a geographical location, and began to attach the concept of "home" to people. Thus, being at Eric's apartment, regardless of the fact that the place is brand new and I've only been there twice, was like being home to me.