Personal: I never thought a song I didn't actually understand could be ruined.

Okay, so my Chinese is okay, and I probably *could* understand the song if I wanted to, but I've never taken the time. Although I listen to this song on a daily basis, its still Greek/Chinese to me. But who cares? Its kiiinda ruined now.
It used to make me just wistful. I listened to this song like ALL the time when the dh and I lived in that summer sublet in C-town a few years ago. 2 years, now.
I have all these memories of being really excited to cook for him. I was slightly disappointed that he wasn't in there cooking with me, but put that aside. Crap, seems like when you look back on things, hindsight just looks a lot dirtier in the rearview mirror. I'm lonely. And I can't stand that song. Like I said, it reminds me of dinner (HA- looking at my figure, you can see that, while the song was ruined, dinner certainly wasn't!). Reminds me of cooking, barefoot on the linoleum, crouching bc it was an attic apartment. Reminds me of the wok hot and splashing grease on me when I got too into humming the music and didn't pay attention. Reminds me of the little CD player, probably the most valuable thing my grandfather had to leave (besides the 87' Land Yacht-my aunt got that), all covered with grease bc the dh didn't want to put his stuff up there, but still pumping along. I really quit listening to American music that summer. Haven't taken it up since, really. I force myself to download some old stuff I know I love, but I don't know any of the songs on the radio anymore. I just remember being like eye-level with the birds and the top of a big old tree (decidious, that's all I remember! I can tell a fir from a spruce from a doug fir from a..., but not the ones that lose their leaves-those are all the same, lol). Really happy bc it would start to cool down, and then I would make dinner. Lol as I'm sitting here thinking about it, it dawns on me that I still didn't know what my dh did with all that time. I got up at the butt crack of dawn, went to open the lab for work, then to classes, then back to work, then home to cook, and then, if I could pull myself away, to do the dishes and the homework. He worked out. I think. But no hard feelings. I foist so much on myself, and he was getting his money for free, anyway (gotta love phd programs). I remember the smell of olive oil, garlic, szechuan flower pepper, edamame, shrimp, and sound and smell of boiling white rice. I don't know. Looking back, I don't remember being content. I remember feeling excited, happy, *wishing* but knowing the situation wouldn't always be like this. I just kind of chopped and salted and stirfried and danced around the kitchen, gurgling with a giggle that wasn't forced, but that I knew wouldn't last. I remember secretly thinking that I would chao the best maodou xia that he would be so happy and horny (ugh, the two are sometimes synonymous to me at times, especially when it comes to food! Thanks Nona, Nono, y Zia Doug!) that I would actually get laid, or better yet, . I guess I remember the situation being tacitly tenuous, that's what I remember. Ha, how clinical. I remember fighting the feeling of being let down. I fought it successfully. Eventually I was let down (or realized I had always been let down). But, it was a great summer.

The song, if you were wondering, is "Aide Jiushi Ni" by Wang Leehom. Oddly poppy song for the mix of feelings it evokes.