This tune helps me when I get impatient to "blow up," i.e. become noted or at least respected and paid enough to take care of bills AND pursue a bucket list. You know, stuff like traveling to Wales because Alex, 8, is inexplicably teaching himself Welsh.
Like going to Australia and hanging out with my high school chum Catherine—who moved Down Under at age 19 or 20—in an Uluru-adjacent sweat lodge. We'll be sensitive to Aboriginal needs and only climb the Red Heart of Australia, called Ayer's Rock by the uninitiated, in our hearts and minds.
I'm craving resources for self-indulgent activities like building a backyard music studio with room for Brian's drum kit and my new bad-ass bass amp. I want to get the kids a swing set before Alex is too old to care. I wanna go to a fancy restaurant and find out once and for all what the hell "baked Alaska" is.
You can imagine this song's getting "ril" or, as Morrissey croons in another tune, "it's too close to home and it's too near the bone" as I near 43. B-day's coming up on July 17, y'all. Can I get a witness?
—Sarah Torribio
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