We should all hope we're so much fun at 73.
I don't want to go to class to-night. There's a test, but I know I'll ace it. I just don't want to sit for five hours. It doesn't help that I didn't sleep very well. I had "Wild Mountain Thyme" stuck in my head. That song is like a crazy hell loop; "Will ye go, lassie, go, and we'll all go together, to pick wild mountain thyme, all around the blooming heather, will ye go lassie, go," and it keeps going like that.
One of the places I play chess in Second Life has a Celtic music station playing all the time and I heard two versions of "Wild Mountain Thyme" yesterday. When I was lying in bed and that bit started chanting in my head, some little switch triggered in me and asked, "Isn't there a reason you don't want to think of this song?" And I remembered--yes, I have an mp3 somewhere of Sonya singing it. And the moment I remembered that, the song was stuck in permanent cerebral hell loop. Since she and Caitlin are so into sirens, maybe she'd appreciate it in a weird way, though I'm sure if she gave me any thought at all it would be to be creeped out that I thought of her still, years later.
I'm angry that I'm not still friends with her, I'm still ashamed of being an asshole when things were falling apart between us, but, then again, if we'd just gradually gotten bored of each other, I doubt "Wild Mountain Thyme" would hold any particular significance for me now. Oh, wait, am I saying that's a good thing? My masochism, I suppose.