Queen, "Sammy (Fly Away)":
"Rachel! Oh man, I just got that Queen album that I wanted, and I'm like, sitting in the parking lot at the Circuit City, my dad's in the store right now. So I pop in the CD to give it a listen and what song comes up? Take a guess. You'll never guess. Take a guess."
"Erm, I don't know Peri...Yellow Submarine?"
"Close. Very close. SAMMY!"
"That's not..."
"Do you remember this song? BLIND GUARDIAN does it, and we didn't know it was a QUEEN cover! We had such accidentally good taste. I mean, remember that time when your hot neighbor Mike was over and you and I were flapping our arms and dancing around the room, singing 'Spread your wings and fly away!' at the top of our lungs? Its a friggen QUEEN song."
"Peri, our youth has come full-circle. We are amazing. There should be a novel. Or at least a sci-fi channel original miniseries."
Rush, "Time Stands Still":We make our way up one more hill, and see a ferris wheel as we reach the top. We realize at the same moment that we are seeing the shell of a small carnival, rides and a pool and an empty concession stand, that in summer are full of activity, but for now look like the setting for the beginning of a fantasy novel, just before the weirdness begins. Squirrels now are the only patrons, running around the bases of the rides and up the cables that hold them in place. We walked around, murmoring about the creep factor of an abandoned carnival, about the absolutely perfect weather. About a perfect afternoon. The smell of the air, the feel of the wind. Like it was yesterday, no, like I am right there right now. I can taste that moment. We walked down the hill, and your best friends showed up in Christian's car, driving around looking for you. Not knowing you were with a girl. Not knowing you were with me, that we were on a date. A perfect date. And I wanted time to stand still, right as they drove away, leaving us to that world that belonged to only we two. I knew in that moment that whenever it was just us, we would go back to that place. That world in the comfortable silence between us as we sat in your car, in between quips about squirrels, too soon in the relationship for sitting alone in a car to prompt any tomfoolery. It was pure, pure and perfect. And looking in your eyes made my stomach jump right through the top of my head. And whenever we are alone, I feel that moment again. Every time. The wind in my hair and the deep brown of your eyes.
Tracy Chapman, "Fast Car":Sarah and I decided that, instead of tiring ourselves walking, we would take her jeep down the winding road whose path was such a wonderment to us. We got about halfway up the largest of the hills, gave up and went home to do homework, the last time we tried. We were never athletic folk. I took my latest mixed CD from its spot in the case, and put it in. "You've got a fast car, I won a ticket to anywhere..."
"So where do you think this road goes?"
"Not an effing clue. Tunkhannock maybe? Everytime I get lost I end up in Tunkhannock."
And then we talked about boys, of course. How they baffle us, what she and PJ did on their last date (pancakes, playground, moderate to severe kissing by the see-saw), how I don't understand Rob's willingness to listen to my constant babble. You know, girl stuff.
A great afternoon. We got lost, and unlost, several times. And then off I went on a date with Rob, and he drove his fast car down to Scranton where we saw a movie. All the while, that song in my head. And later that night, curled up in his arms...
"Speeding so fast I felt like I was drunk, the city lights spread out before us, your arms felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulders and I had a feeling that I belonged. I had the feeling I could be someone."
Bon Jovi, "Living On A Prayer"
"We gotta HOLD ON to what we got, it doesn't make a difference if we make it or not, we got each other, and that's a lot for love...WE'LL GIVE IT A SHOT! WOAHHHHHHH WE'RE HALFWAY THERE!!! WooooAHHHH! LIVING ON A PRAYER!"
Peri and I screamed the lyrics, no music behind our joyous voices as the song blasted out of her open car door in the school parking lot. We stood beside Freddy (her Hyundai) and jumped around, wildly expressing our love of Bon Jovi and the excitement of a coming long weekend. The sun was out, the birds were chirping and crapping on the teacher's more shaded parking lot, and the jocks were watching us in horrified fascination as we leaped and twirled in genuine happiness, a garish display in such a place as a high school. Not as garish as what we had painted on the windows of Jeanine's car (007--ONE HOT CLASS!) and not half as attention-getting as Matt standing on the roof of Sarah's jeep as she drove slowly 'round the lot, before we all drove off to Kristi's house. It was going to be a hell of a weekend.
Wicked, "One Short Day"
Booking the actual tickets had been an ordeal, since Tori and Annie didn't trust ordering on the internet, but it had been worth it to get such amazing seats. I used my entire last paycheck to pay for the ticket and the bus ride (t'was a smallish paycheck), and four months after that last paycheck, I was there. I was about to see Wicked, after hearing the soundtrack for a year. Tori had first played it for me in her car while her mom ran into the pharmacy to pick up one of her myriad prescriptions. We had spent months singing the songs in perfect harmony, reading the book, watching clips online, and stalking the website.
It had been a perfect day, too. We had all slept over at Ricky's; me, Tori, David, Sarah, Megan, Annie, and of course Ricky. Waking up at four, we were in the city by eight, and hit the Villiage by ten (after stopping for bagels). Washington Square was my ideal spot. I mean, I felt so at home among the artists and street musicians and vagrants. If my father hadn't expressly forbidden it, I would have gone to NYU.
Then we did the Colony music store, we wandered around Manhaattan, we ate at the Olive Garden in Times Square for lunch, which felt luxurious even if it was just the Olive Garden. We felt magical, like the day wasn't even real.
We were just six friends, six good friends, six best friends, sharing one wonderful day.
I can't listen to the songs I want to hear most. Cruelly and unusually, I want to listen to Rush, to Queen, to Tracy Chapman, to Wicked, and even in my darker hours, VanHalen, just to get some of myself back for three minutes. I'm so homesick for Rob and Peri and Sarah and Kristi and David, I can't think straight. Especially Rob. So when I make my playlist for the week (yes, I do that), I'll add Queen, I'll add Rush and our song by the Cars, and shuffle away. And then the songs play, and I feel this horrible cold hand grip my asophagus, then reach down and punch my gut. Every song is like another stab into my heart, another beautiful memory to remind me that I'm not happy anymore.
The other songs are just to hard to talk about. I can't even verbalize how much I miss sleepovers with the girls, going to Borders with David, sneaking into my house at 4 in the morning after a night out with Rob, walking Shadow down the dirt road by my house, swimming in the lake with Delia and Bradley, calling up sketchy radio DJs with Teenie, singing carols with Ryan and Pam, goofing off with Ron and Reggie, hugs from Ricky and Dean, spending the night at Kari's and watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show, Colin teaching me to ride a bike, Eric teaching me to drive a car, watermelon fights at Janna's, sitting down by the lake with Brenda at Shirley's, playing Guitar Hero with Dylan, watching Buffy with Cassandra, Paw Prints meetings, Creative Writing class with the ladies, driving to play practice with Kari...all too much for me. Just too much. Maybe this is why I can't sleep anymore.
