mardi 11 janvier 2005

I'm begging you, make it stop.

So I went to see The Phantom of the Opera on Sunday, because my sister wanted to see it, and I really didn't want to do work. (Yes, overdone and overblown, but it was a pleasant distraction. Plus, the Comte de whatever was really cute from the right angles. So was the Phantom, once you got past the disfiguring makeup. Who knew that the Phantom was the same person as the main guy in Lara Croft II?)

However, now I have that BLASTED "Music of the Night" song running around my mind, causing me to hum it for the past two days. I am going nuts.
Slowly, gently
Night unfurls its splendor
Grasp it, sense it
Tremulous and tender
Turn your face away
From the garish light of day
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light
And listen to the music of the night
Is it in your head too now? GOOD. I aim to share the misery.

I want to physically reach into my brain and pull out whatever brain cells are making that song repeat in my head. Rather fitting then, isn't it, that the NYTimes has an article entitled "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da, Amygdala: Word as Earworm". Why does he NOT SHARE A CURE for getting rid of this earworm? Mr. Gorman: Stop obsessing over the word "amygdala". Yes, it is a fascinating part of the brain with many implications for different developmental issues, but it is also what we named our cadaver in anatomy lab. That should take some of the romance out of the word.

Now, go forth and figure out how to eradicate these earworms, because I am slowly going nuts.