I was listening to Sigur Ros on the way to work on Monday (Dear Anne, one of the Sigur Ros CDs you gave me is Sigur Ros, the other one turns out to actually be Chumbawamba, which is fine since “Mouth Full of Shit” turns out to be one of Gamma’s favorite songs, so thanks!) and thinking about how melancholy it was, and then about how one could describe its melancholy exactly, if one wanted to be as precise as possible.

I mean, when I listen to Snow Patrol it reminds me first of D, who introduced me to Snow Patrol in the first place, but then makes me think of, okay, snow but also the sort of sad feeling being a teenager or young adult or human in general gives you sometimes, that confusion and depression and vulnerability and so on. On the other hand, listening to this Sigur Ros CD, it reminds me of doing something fun with someone beautiful who is grieving, like spending the day at the water slide park with a beautiful girl whose identical twin just died; it reminds me of the time I broke up with a girlfriend on her birthday while we were backpacking and had to hike ten miles back to the car while she sang, softly, Happy Birthday to Me.

I wasn’t exactly thinking too many moves ahead that day, was I. Exit strategy, boy; what is your exit strategy? The American military must feel like that in Iraq, only worse. Context is very important, or as realtors like to say, the three most important factors when breaking up are location, location and location.

Beta and I were watching Kill Bill 2 the other evening. She put her arm around me. It was a nice surprise, after not having her around for six months. We talked a little, small things like, “hey buddy,” or “man, Carradine is so great in this” or “who’s he?” or “he used to play this Shaolin monk in the TV show Kung Fu when I was your age,” or “whatever” or holding our breath while The Bride tried to dig her way out of the grave or “ew, she’s squishing her eye between her toes” or “yow, look at that black mamba bite him in the face! Kewl!”

Or, at the part where she’s putting her little daughter to bed, “oh man” or “what?” or “I used to do that, I did that so many times when you were little, remove my arm gently and tuck you in after you’d finally fallen asleep and try to sneak away without waking you” or “you want more guacamole?”