The Aimee Mann Journey

I played an album on low volume while going to sleep from freshman year until I started sharing my bed. I have returned to that tradition since moving to my new room. Last night I forgot to search the album to exclude the rest of my library, so I woke at one in the morning to the crooning of Aimee Mann, remembering a dream that involved her.

I was trying to get across San Clemente to an Aimee Mann house show. I remember images of different parts of the city that I passed through. I remember kids playing at a park/beach and climbing up the slide to get to the street. I remember trying to get my bearings from the remarkably mountainous coastal hills. I remember the frustration of being lost, of being late and wondering whether I'd ever get there.

Then I was there. I was talking with Aimee Mann about some promotional chocolate she'd given out at her last show. It had been really good and I wanted to know where I could get more. I wanted a pound-- no, maybe more. It was, after all, really good. I remember deciding I'd be willing to buy a hundred dollars worth of chocolate, whatever the rate, so that I could distribute it to friends. That's when I woke up and realized my itunes was still playing.

I've been unsuccessfully trying to get myself to go to some KDVS house shows recently. Jill seemed to like the few shows I took her to, but I suspect she unconsciously let house shows die. I could never get my roommates to go with me before Jill, so most of my memories of house shows are going on my own, chatting sporadically with acquaintances but mostly feeling alone in a crowd. The music was always interesting and usually worth it. It seems like an appropriate thing to pick back up now that I'm on my own again. I'm going to make a point of at least attending the upcoming ORMF.