"It's that little souvenir of a terrible year..." The Sundays

The Sundays' album reading, writing and arithmetic defined my freshman year of undergrad. As I listen to it this morning, 15 years away from that beautiful, miserable, terrible year, I can still remember the girl I was then. Barely 18. So young. The most painful moments of my life, by and large, still hadn't happened yet, but I understood the hopeful melancholy of Harriett Wheeler's voice. I knew what she meant when she sang out "you're not the only one that I know and I'm far too proud to talk to you anyway..." or when she described kicking a boy till he cried... "oh, I could have been wrong, but I don't think I was..."