Today was one of those lucky days where it started off bad, then got better. I had to buy some gifts for my family, which was predictably a poor experience. I ended up getting some nice snacks for them. People always like food, right? I got home and slept. I've had a headache for the past few days, that seems to have only grown up until today. The nap helped quite a bit. Then I discovered that the Christmas party my parents were planning was happening that evening. I wasn't too psyched. But it worked out. I forgot that I hadn't really talked to people much since I got back. I got a call from my good friend, made plans with another. I feel alright. My life can be so silly and moody.

I realized that, for some time now, I've been subconsciously embarassed by certain qualities of specific kinds of music that I liked (or, didn't like, because I was embarassed by it, likewise). I then realized, who cares? Who am I embarassed for, and in regards to whom? It's ridiculous! I'm going to enjoy the stuff I enjoy, even if I have concessions about it, most of which come from a compositional sensibility. I can't deny that fourths, fifths, and other intervals that move up the natural harmonic series are beautiful; it's a psychological, practically innate fact. And it's not like I need to be a music intellectual, always on call with a stiff, wrinkled brow and something between scowl and smirk (yeah, that's how they are!). You can't enjoy yourself, if you're always that way. I guess I had to realize that music can't resist all expectations, all the time. It has to let you get by easy somehow, in its harmony, melody, structure, whatever, some of the time, and depending on how you feel and how engaged you are. There's different music for different occasions. But I think I knew that. I just didn't realize how it may have compromised my total enjoyment of music. Like I said, silly.