Why won’t Detroit Rock City be sweet to me?

September 16, 2007 - Sunday

It's a hard day to be a Minnesota fan, especially when your family is from Detroit. But instead of dwelling on the negative, I'm going to jam out.

Driving home with my sunroof open, all my windows down and music cranked so loud I can hardly pay attention to anything else gave me something to think about. It has been far too long since I have been rockin out to some serious shit. It could be because I have been preparing for the Ani show or because I'm working out a lot, but my playlists have lacked luster in the "rock" department.

(On a similar note, have you ever put your iPod on a certain genre? I'm pretty sure David Grey is NOT rock! Come again? ACDC yes, Barenaked Ladies NO!!! Everything has its place, and I could make fun of myself right now. I'll just let that speak for itself.)

I need to drive fast, smoke cigarettes, wear lipstick, sunglasses and miniskirts. Could I have been born in the wrong decade? Maybe. But I like to think it's for the best. Now, I might be considered eccentric; then, I would have been a groupie. Now that would have been a tragedy.

Personality is an interesting thing. You can't really disguise or walk away from it. It seeps out while you're trying to be quiet. I guess what I'm trying to say is I can't deny my bad obsession with music that, in my humble opinion, rocks.