anotherlongshot (anotherlongshot) wrote,

Need. To. Marry. David. Cook. (And other stories)

Crap, I lost the entry I was typing. SO BLOODY ANNOYING OMG. But I need to document my Cookie obsession in excruciating details so I'll try to remember what I wrote and re-write it with as little loss of quality as possible.

So American Idol may be over, but David Cook continues to slay me with his utter hotness. I, seriously, I just don't know what to do with myself when I'm face-to-face with the utter gorgeousness and perfection that is more commonly known as David Cook.

He is so hot. (This is post-Cookie victory so his eyes are red and puffy from crying. OMG I wanna hug him.)

He is so hot, I can't stand it.

He is so hot that it's utterly ridiculous.

He is so hot that I just suffered a freaking heart attack.

He is so hot that I want to be in fangirl heaven forever.

He is so hot, Singapore feels like Antarctica in comparison. He has the prettiest eyes ever, and his lips, omfg David you just kill me.

He is so hot that I'm fast becoming speechless in the face of his utter hotness.

He is so hot that fdgsgnvhskghjkahgjkaghkqaj.

If I ever become famous, I'd go on record saying that I'd like to make out (et cetera) with this. The pretty, it dazzles and mesmerises.

He's disgusting OMG. He's so immaculate that it's disgusting. To paraphrase what he said about Mandy Moore, I find David Cook to be so attractive, it's disgusting. Unlike his fixation with Mandy Moore, I actually like him for so much more than just his looks.

I know it's been a few days already but I'm still unbelievably and irrationally happy that he won. It's so much more than a matter of "OMG MY FAVOURITE FINALLY WON"; it's about "OMG NOT ONLY DID MY FAVOURITE WIN, THE MOST DESERVING, MOST TALENTED AND MOST HARDWORKING CONTESTANT WON, AND ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD". It's that fairy tale ending that injects a dash of optimism and magic in a world that gets too weary with its pragmatic cynicism. At some level that makes no sense whatsoever, I feel like I can do anything in this world just because David Cook won American Idol.

In recent memory, I've only cried twice out of happiness: the first time was when I got my A Level results in March 4, 2005. The second time was when David Cook won American Idol. I don't know him and I'd never meet him and even if a miracle happens and I get the chance to meet him, I wouldn't want to meet him 'cause the thought of him knowing I exist freaks the shit out of me (hence my being way too scared to add his old MySpace to my friends list). And yet I'm emotionally invested enough in this guy on TV to CRY when he got his well-deserved victory.

UGH. DAVID COOK, YOU'RE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. I've watched almost all his post-Idol TV appearances and I continue to be astounded by how well-spoken and articulate he is, not to mention his unfailing word nerdiness. The Top 10 (minus Michael) were on Larry King Live on Saturday morning Singapore time, and there was some stupid Yearbook award thing, and the question was, "Who's the class brain?" Everyone went, "David Cook!"

David went, "Indubitably." (I took forever to figure out how to spell this word. I am very ashamed of myself.)

hjgcv sgdghb vgjafjshgavgahjgagaegahgaigjqigh. Have I ever mentioned that I really like guys who are actually, gasp, literate? Daviddddd OMG marry me!

I'd also like to say that I downloaded the entire finale and I watched his crowning moment again and I cried again. Like, I couldn't stop crying. I also watched him sing The World I Know on Access Hollywood and I also cried. I think the only response I will have to his singing that song is Tears. I don't know what it is about David Cook and The World I Know that gets me so much, but it does. It's so beautiful and moving and I almost wish he'd sing something else on his talk shows circuit 'cause I really cannot cry so damn much, dammit. Sing Billie Jean or Always Be My Baby, hell sing Time Of My Life! I don't want to turn into a crier!

No wait, on second thought, don't sing Time Of My Life. That'd make me very sad. The song sucks ass (though it's much better than This Is My Now and Inside Your Heaven and Do I Make You Proud) and I'd much rather David sing a song with actual merit than some dreck produced by American Idol, thanks.

I can't wait for his second debut album. I wish one of those reporters who have been asking him the same questions over and over again ever since he won Idol whether or not his second album that he completed will ever see the light of day, because fuck, I want to hear it. I am dying to find out what "We're Only Honest When We're Sleeping" and "Eta Carinae" (all thanks to David, now I know that eta carinae is a star that "'plodes". He couldn't remember if it implodes or explodes. HE'S SO...JHDGHGSJGS.) sound like, and of course, I want to hear all of "Optimistic to a Fault"! I read that Ryan Tedder and Jesse McCartney want to collaborate with him...which um, is great I guess, but um...please, no? They are the culprits behind that horrible Leona Lewis song, "Bleeding Love". Something about Leona Lewis bugs the shit out of me and I don't want to hear David sing how his heart is "bleeding love" or whatever, which is so unbelievably cheesy and he's shown that he's capable of much, MUCH better lyrics than that.

On second thought, the fact that I don't hate and actually like Time Of My Life? I will buy whatever he puts out. And I'm confident that it'd be something good, because:

I know a lot of people really enjoyed your cover songs and just have been sharing them legally and illegally and everything. Does that put pressure on you to come out with your original work and have it be just as loved?

D. Cook: No, I don't think so. I don't really feel like there's any added pressure other than what's already there. I want to come out with a record that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up and I keep saying it. I just want to put out a record that's going to be able to stand up on its own long after I'm gone and if I can do that, then I'm set. The covers were great, but I'm ready to get back into the creative process of writing songs and basically kind of baring my soul on these records, so I look forward to it.

The 'baring my soul' part sounds like Analog Heart (which I still want a hard copy of, dammit, but I'm not prepared to pay US$700 - no kidding - for it and let horrible eBayers benefit from David's hard work) but I'm sure that his post-Idol album will not be anything like Analog Heart for the simple reason that his full name is David Roland "Expect the Unexpected" Cook.

I'd also like to state for the record that his Idol Extra interview is the best 10 minutes of media I've downloaded (okay, I exaggerate, but it's freaking good) and I went all spastic when he said that he didn't want to make an album that is a "cup holder" or a "paperweight". When these metaphors rolled off his tongue (omg David's tongue), I was more convinced than ever that HE is my soulmate and that David Cook + Yelen = OTP. <3

Sorry, my David Cook obsession ain't going anywhere, and it looks like I'm not going to stop rambling about him anytime soon. Idol is over, but David's career has just begun. I totally expect more fangirl flailing entries in the near and far future, till the end of time (fuck, David killed me when he sang this line in that Father Figure Top 12 performance. I'd KILL to hear him sing the whole song himself. Ace Young sang it and I thought it was kinda sexy though I didn't care for Ace despite his objective hotness; if David ever sang it, I'd DIE AND NEVER EVER EVER RECOVER). He's just so precious, I can't stand it.

Lastly, him getting the winner's treatment in all his post-victory interviews makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. He's so deserving and I'm so incredibly, disgustingly happy for him.

I have Dream Big stuck in my head. Thanks, David. I didn't want to admit to liking this irritatingly happy song when I first listened to it on the Songwriter website, but now that he's sung it on the show, I have no choice but to come out of the closet. I LIKE THIS DAMN SONG. And David singing it made it so much better.



Believe it or not, I am still capable of writing about things that aren't Cookie related. Gasp, right? OMG, I KNOW!


2. I'm so glad that I just got my period 'cause it'd suck to high fucking heavens if I got my period in Europe.

3. I still hate getting my period, by the way. That goes without saying, right?

4. I need to finish reading The Unbearable Lightness of Being so that I can bring a new book to read on the insanely long and potentially and probably torturous 16-hour flight to London. What should I read next? I'm leaning towards Ben Elton's Chart Throb 'cause I feel like reading something brainless, and 'cause I'm still on an Idol-high, all thanks to the fact that David Cook exists and won. But I also want to read Ian McEwan's Atonement, Rushdie's Satanic Verses, Martin Amis' Money. I also want to re-read all my Julian Barnes novels (speaking of, shit I need to find out how to stalk him). Soooo spoiled for choice.

5. Just a quick note on Unbearable Lightness of Being: I CANNOT STAND TERESA OMFG. I also cannot stand Tomas. I suspect, too, that I should've been more discerning in buying the book, because the one I bought? Some of the translated lines make me cringe because the translation is so bad. This is why I tend to avoid reading translated works like the plague: you just don't know for sure if what you're reading is what the writer originally intended, if he meant to use that word in that particular manner, if he really meant to write that phrase. It's incredibly frustrating, even more so when the translation reads so uncomfortably and awkwardly that it constantly reminds you that Milan Kundera wrote the novel in Czech. I'm dying to read Albert Camus' The Outsider/The Stranger (see, I don't even know which is the definitive one) but I don't know which translation to buy so...ARGH. It's not that I don't want to read non-English literature; it's just that literature is more than ideas and content to me. It's also style and use of language, two things which tend to get woefully lost in translation. So...IT'S NOT MY FAULT.

6. As for why I hate Teresa, I just don't fucking understand why she defines herself by Tomas's fidelity - or gross lack of it - towards her. I cannot relate to her at all. I cannot even put myself in a position where I try to relate to her, because I think she's a weakling and much better off growing a backbone and getting Tomas out of her life. I wish she does, eventually, but I'd have to read on to find out. (I'm left with the last quarter of the novel.)


8. I really like the ideas behind the novel, but my utter inability to relate to or care about the central characters make it hard for me to enjoy the novel more than I do. Of course it's an intellectual mindfuck, but for me, it's missing that empathetic element that makes Julian Barnes' novels so immensely readable to me. I read a novel for many things: content/plot (though this probably ranks the lowest on my list), writing style, ideas/philosophies, and characters. For me to love a novel to death, it will have to hit it out of the ballpark for all the criteria. The easiest way to my favourite novels list? Apart from OMG AMAZING STYLE, the novel has to have characters that I can relate to, or at the very least, sympathise with. As it stands, I don't give a shit about either Teresa or Tomas. I feel nothing but contempt for Tomas, and nothing but pity for Teresa. Just...WTF, really? I don't get it.

9. But I'll hold out final judgment until I finish it, of course.

10. I took the MRT home from work on Friday and actually got a seat and so I decided to read The Unbearable Lightness of Being. I was so engrossed in the book (mostly because I was writing comments like "WTF IS WRONG WITH TERESA" in pink along the margins) that I didn't even know that there was a pregnant woman standing to my left until the person seated on my right got up to leave, and the person standing beside the pregnant woman showed her the seat. I felt so guilty oh my god, not to mention so ashamed. If I'd known, I would've given up my seat in a heartbeat. D:

11. I was feeling emo and chatty on Friday and kind of wanted to talk about something with someone, and the first person I thought of calling was Mag. Needless to say I was bummed when I remembered that she's not in Singapore. Boo.

12. Speaking of emo, I can't help but make what is, I think, quite an important observation. I was also doing an internship this time last year, and I remember how I'd take the MRT home from work every day with my earphones on and my Creative blasting away on Shuffle mode. To be completely honest, I don't remember exactly what it was like; but I do remember passing by Queenstown and feeling that pang, and having my Creative randomly shuffle to Dakota and feeling that pang while listening to it. But Dakota made me feel better, and so sometimes I'd put it on repeat and listen to it all the way home.

The thing about Dakota is that I felt like it encapsulated perfectly my feelings towards the last relationship, especially the chorus and the last verse. The last verse, in particular, always formed a lump in my throat: "Wake up call, coffee and juice/Remembering you/What happened to you?/I wonder if we'll meet again/Talk about life since then/Talk about why did it end." And then the chorus: "You made me feel like the/You made me feel like the one/The one."

I love this song to death for so many reasons, and even while I'm completely obsessed with David Cook, Dakota is still my favourite song. I cannot remember how it felt exactly to pass by Queenstown on the way home from work last year, but I remember how comforted I felt when I listened t Dakota. This, I think, is the power of music: Reaching out to people, creating a shared space of empathy between total strangers, and providing comfort in times of vulnerability and emotional distress.

But what I really want to say is, I've been playing my David Cook playlist on shuffle to and from work for the past couple of weeks, and I don't even blink when I pass by Queenstown anymore. Last week, when I was too overwhelmed with the prospect of not seeing David on my TV ever again to the extent that listening to him would've made me cry, I played my Stereophonics songs instead, and when Dakota came on, all I thought of was how much I loved the song and how I'd finally stopped tearing up whenever I listened to it.

If someone told me this time last year that I wouldn't give a shit anymore when I passed Queenstown and I'd stop relying on Dakota as an emotional crutch to deal with the pain, I would probably have broken down in tears and exclaimed that "it's never gonna go away". To put it plainly and in a disgustingly understated manner, I am so, so glad that time has ultimately proved me wrong. I am so over it that I can't even put myself in a position where I try to remember how I felt, let alone try to comprehend why I felt what I felt. That entire period is just completely inexplicable to me now, and I can't even begin to express how glad I am that it's over.

And...yeah, that's pretty much it, my observation.

13. I was playing Free Rice and I did this weird thing where I didn't know what the word meant but something told me that it meant X and I clicked on X and I was right. Words that I've never seen before in my life, and for some weird reason I just knew that it meant X.

14. I also do this thing quite a bit where I'm writing something and a word that I didn't know the meaning of but have obviously came across sometime in my life randomly manifests itself in my mind, and it fits perfectly the sentence that I'm writing. I still remember this particular incident in secondary school. I was doing an unseen poem, Ted Hughes' Jaguar, and I was trying to describe Hughes' characterisation of the animal, and from absolutely nowhere the word 'tenacious' (or was it 'tenacity'?) popped into my head. I didn't know the meaning of the word then, but I knew that it was the right word and so I used it. I came home, checked the dictionary, and found that I got it right.

15. I started writing pretty much when I was 10. I've wanted to write ever since I discovered that I could write, when I was 13. That hasn't changed - ever.

16. On another note, OMG bloody hell I soooo want to see the Idols tour. D:

17. I'm dying to make David Cook icons. It's been wayyyyy too long since I made any, so I think I'll spend the rest of tonight making Cookie icons. YAY!



ETA at 10.20 p.m.:

I watched Entertainment Weekly's Idolatory video out of boredom and I fucking started crying again at the part where they showed David winning with Michael Slezak (whom I totally knew was gay when I read one of his articles without even needing to hear him speak) and Kristen Baldwin talking about why David deserved to win.

I also watched the preview of the episode of The Ellen DeGeneres Show which David is slated to appear in on Tuesday, and once again he sang The World I Know.

Oh my god I cannot keep crying like this; it's utterly ridiculous. David, please sing another song, pleeeease, for the love of my tear ducts! I swear, that preview contained a grand total of him singing six words - "this is the world I know" - and it was enough to make me tear up.

I cannot take it anymore. I'm going to shower, then I'm going to watch the finale again and his The World I Know and all my Cookie videos and I'm going to have a nice, huge cryfest, and hopefully that'd be the last time I ever cry over David Cook. I love him but I hate crying and I don't want to cry anymore! And even now I feel like crying again 'cause it's just sunk in that I won't be watching David this week and I won't be freaking out over his song choice anymore and I'm feeling really sad right now, which I guess explains the unstoppable crying. Oh my god, David, what the fuck have you done to me?

I can't believe it's over. I feel like my best friend has just stopped being friends with me and I'm so sad OMFG, and and and I can't believe he saved The World I Know for the final performance because it's really the most beautiful I've heard in a very long time. It's taken over Music of the Night and I Don't Want to Miss a Thing as my favourite Cook performance, but I can't bear to watch it sometimes because its haunting, melancholic beauty kills me. I wish I could get it out of my head because hearing it, even vaguely in my head, makes me cry.

Not only has David broke American Idol, he's completely broke ME (broke/broken?). He's...I have no words. I can't even describe how I feel anymore.

Tags: books, david cook, europe trip, stereophonics, writing

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