Not my favourite performance, but still rock solid and therefore totally! awesome!
David singing Eleanor Rigby, all rocked out. Apparently the original song has violins? I could never have guessed, because, you guessed it, I've never heard the song prior to David's performance. Sorry, not a Beatles fan. Don't really care. In fact, don't care at all.
I must be losing my mind because I now find David, whom I used to think wasn't really very cute, unbelievably, unstoppably, immensely, unbearably sexy. Meaning, I would totally do him sexy. Like, in a freaking heartbeat. He's not handsome, but he's hawt. I hate guys who do the up-turned collar thing with their polo t-shirts and David's jacket was totally channeling that dreadful look. But OMG damned if I didn't find it completely hot. I have truly lost all notions of objectivity when it comes to him; my mom said he was out of tune in the first verse for Eleanor Rigby, and I've listened to the performance like ten million times already and I STILL don't hear out of tune. And I'm usually quite fast to pick up on such things.
And Simon (who was looking exceptionally hot in that white shirt with the missing buttons) didn't say "high chance of winning"; he said, "You would probably win the whole thing."
Thank goodness it's a popularity contest because I violently do not want my husband to win; I just want him to come in second.
And David needs to do a ballad - stat. He needs to get the haters to stop comparing him to freaking CREED and NICKELBACK whom I totally hate, as well as Chris Daughtry whom I hated as well. And I also selfishly want to hear his beautiful amazing voice as it is, without shouty rock-star gimmicks which, yes, are super hot, but could get real old real fast. He needs to do a ballad. Where do I send him this memo? Hopefully he's smart enough to realise that but I'm still nerve-wrecked anyway.
You know, I think he should hire me as his, like, advisor, or something. And after we're done discussing song choices and what he can do about his hair and the different brands of razors he can buy and what shades of denim look best on him and what kind of shirts he look the sexiest in, we can go off somewhere private and...do other things.
Okay, I'm going to stop typing before I reveal my deepest darkest fantasy on a PUBLIC BLOG OMG.
Anyway, I witnessed a minor car accident today while I was driving and it was quite freaky. I was driving to the Rail Mall, and there was this roundabout that I had to take. There was give way line at the start of the roundabout, and there a school bus and a medium-sized SUV approaching from the right. So I stopped at the give-way line to give way, obviously. The school bus also stopped.
Next thing I knew? The SUV knocked into the school bus, which, by the way, had a couple of kids in it.
Like WTF? Thankfully it was just a bump, not a crash. I heard the impact but it wasn't very loud. The cars drove off to one side, the bus driver got out, and I drove away, and that was that.
In some way I contributed to the accident because the school bus stopped because of me. Of course, he had the right of way and so it wasn't like I did anything wrong, but it was still kind of scary in a way. I thought of all the times the same thing almost happened to me, because I was driving too fast, not paying attention, distracted by other things, didn't slow down enough while checking side-view mirrors, too cocky about my driving abilities...I'm thankful that I haven't got into any accidents so far, and I hope it stays that way. It better stay that way.
I forgot to bring my wallet out today so I drove without my licence. Argh! How dangerous.
In other news, I'm quite tired of the stupid Bell's Palsy. More specifically, I'm tired of not being able to fully move my face. It's like this perpetual nightmare that doesn't seem to have a visible ending, and I'm tired of contorting my face every day in hopes of spotting some significant change. It's got to a point where I can't even see the improvements anymore, because they're so slight, they're almost negligible.
It's tres frustrating, and if you're wondering why I keep rambling about David Cook, it's because obsessing over David keeps me from obsessing over my face. Of course I still do both, but I must say that my David obsession far exceeds my hang-ups over the stupid palsy. I suppose the whole American Idol thing started at the right time, because David is definitely a huge distraction for me from the palsy. I think I would drive myself crazy if I'm checking my face in the mirror every other split second a day.
Have I mentioned that I really want my left dimple back? Last night I thought I saw the faintest shadow of it, but I looked harder and it was just my imagination. I'm sick of waiting for my face to recover; I want it back now fucking hell.
On a more positive note, I didn't ache all over my body from the Chinese medicine so I drank it again today. Still vile as ever.
My eye was exceptionally uncomfortable today, and it had to be so throughout Comparative Crim. The inside of the bottom eyelid was twitching like mad, so it felt like I had some really awful sores growing in my eye or something. Freaking uncomfortable - I couldn't stop tearing. And yet I still kept putting eye drops. I don't know why I do the things that I do sometimes, truly.
I was reading some poems by Philip Levine during class today and I was absolutely blown away. After all's been said and done, the one thing that never fails to move me and spark something in me is still great writing, the beauty of language, the kind of art and beauty that some writers can create with words. It's immense, even larger than life. I would be happy if I could achieve even half of that kind of accomplishment.
On another note, I walked past the pubs/bars along Rail Mall today and I felt this palpable sense of repulsion. No matter how many drinks I have with other people, something about alcohol still rubs me the wrong way because I still associate it with just one person.
But hey, David used to work as a bartender - he can mix me a drink anytime. I'm sure that will solve all my problems, like how he's curing Bell's Palsy for me.
I really miss my face. Let me go look at more pictures of David then.
Title from "Silver" by David Cook