There can never be a more joyous or liberating day than the day you finally, legally, turn 21. I can never get use to that number; there’ll be one of those rare moments where I’ll be lamenting, ‘I wish I was 21…Oh my god, I am 21!’I never remember fully relishing in the moment of being that particular age; the day I turned 19, I was 19 for awhile - but by the next year, I was dreading, moping around till the day I turn 20. The day I turned 20, I was 20 for awhile - but by the next year, I was dreading, moping around till the day I turn 21. This time around, I’m going to soak it all in, every inch of the music, the words, the sight and everything else that’s curbed by its sheer size.
This morning, I woke up in all my klutziness glory, late (again!) for class and being in no mood for any kind of academic absorption whatsoever. So for now, I’ll be wallowing myself for most of the day, wrapped around in Andrew Bird’s subtle, soothing, flowing vocals as he sings a tune of a diffused, faint tale of birthdays or other.
|mp3| Andrew Bird – The Happy Birthday Song (otherwise known as the most recycled tune in the world of the music blogosphere for reasons that are too obvious it’d just be daft to mention)
