5 songs beginning with the letter O

I volunteered for this meme ages and ages ago when lassarina was doing it. Then things got busy, and I never got around to completing it. But now I am. The rules are as follows:

Comment and I'll give you a letter. Then list 5 songs with titles beginning in that letter. You can play in the comments here or on your own LJ.

I was assigned the letter "O" and will avoid making a dirty joke about it. My choices, in alphabetical order by song title:

"Of Course" by Lucky Boys Confusion

// 'cause if the whole world is my enemy, I feel no remorse // let anyone step, I'll match 'em, eye-to-eye of course

A classic from their first album on Elektra, "Growing Out Of It", this is Lucky Boys at their rocking best, before they'd really settled into their sound and matured (read: turned really poppy.) Its up-tempo and catchy while at the same time having a decent groove and a clever lyric. So I love it, of course.

"Ohio (Come Back To Texas)" by Bowling For Soup

// there's nothing wrong with Ohio // except the snow and the rain // I really like Drew Carey // and I'd love to see the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame

I'm slightly shamed by how late I became aware of Bowling For Soup, during the pop-surge of their single "1985." This was the second song of theirs I got into, off the album that's still my favorite of theirs, "A Hangover You Don't Deserve". Its everything they are: accessible pop punk and just a little tongue-in-cheek and tons of fun.

"On the Radio" by Regina Spektor

// and on the radio // you'll hear November Rain // that solo's awful long // but its a good refrain

Ahhh! From her fourth album "Begin To Hope", this is the first Regina song I fell in love with ever, and still one of the ones for which she's best known. I've always loved how the first verse sounds like nonsense, and then the second is not only coherent but some of the sagest advice I've ever heard, admittedly delivered in a glib way. I always imagine Ms. Spektor smirking when she sings it, and she looks good smirking (actually she always looks good.)

"Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name Of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued" by Fall Out Boy

// its just past eight and I'm // feeling young & reckless // the ribbon on my wrist says // "do not open before Christmas"

The clear winner for longest song title on this list, this song was originally titled "My Name is David Ruffin...and These are The Temptations" and comes from their album "From Under the Cork Tree" (which many fans know better by its acronym, FUCT.) Lucky for me they changed it, so that I could use it here. I like this whole album, and this song kicks it off right; its still one of my favorite songs to turn up loud and drive to.

"Overkill" by Colin Hay

// especially at night // I worry over situations // I know I'll be alright // its just overkill

Like a lot of people I became a fan of Colin Hay thanks mostly to Zach Braff, who used Hay's work on the soundtrack to Garden State as well as on Scrubs. Prominently featured in the first episode of the second season of that show, the version of this song I have is actually the accoustic one off the Scrubs soundtrack. I know that this song was originally recorded by Men At Work, but I like this cover better. Its really just the man and his guitar, but it still manages to rock pretty hard.

Honorable Mentions: "Octopus" by Jonathan Coulton, "Okay I Believe You But My Tommy Gun Don't" by Brand New, "One Down" by Ben Folds, "One Year Later" by the Get Up Kids, "Ordinary Day" by Great Big Sea and "Out Loud" by Dispatch

and when its time to go to bed I'm still awake inside my head

Last night after Story Games Boston wrapped up a section of the crew went out for post-game food and drinks, as we often do. We swung by the Asgard, our typical haunt. But rather than the usual Wednesday karaoke, there was of course Game 1 of the World Series in full swing, and well on its way to being a blowout (go Sox!) We had anticipated this somewhat, and so after a bit of dithering, we schlepped across the street to the uncrowded Cinderella's for pizza and such instead.

So we sat at two tables pulled together by the front window, six geeky people blathering away as we are wont to do. Eric and I started talking a bit about WoW, and the conversation quickly turned incomprehensible to anyone who doesn't play, and Eric turned to Richard and made a crack about this being revenge for all the times Richard brought up Exalted to me at post-SGB dinners. And we laughed, and ordered food, and the conversation turned.

And then Richard, being snarky to Eric for something or other (possibly the afore-mentioned "revenge!" slight) made some mention of blowing up his house, with kittens. Filling it to overflowing with kittens until it was destroyed. And this, of course, made me think of Real Genius, and so I asked Richard if he would prefer to use a laser mounted to a fighter jet to fill Eric's house with popcorn and cause the frame to crack and the roof to lift up. I went on to mention the dream involving sun-god robes and women throwing little pickles, because its brilliant.

Eric caught the reference, of course. As did some girl (woman, I should say) waiting at the counter over my shoulder. And she interjected to agree that it was a brilliant funny movie, and suddenly I was twisted in my chair and talking with her as well, including her at least briefly in our conversation. Its a social instinct of mine, particularly when it comes to geeky things, to want to be inclusive. It can feel like there are so few of us, sometimes, that its nice to meet a new geek totally at random.

My impressions of her are unreliable, because I am not a terribly visual person. I remember the shape of her face, and that she had one of those discrete studs in her nose, one of the ones so small it almost looks like a stray bit of glitter at first. She may or may not have been carrying a backpack. I couldn't tell you exactly what she was wearing, except that it was reasonable; she was dressed warmly against the sudden turn towards chill and damp and actual Autumn weather. There was a guy behind her -- redheaded, I think -- not dressed quite so sensibly. And they were both waiting on something or other -- Cinderella's has a little counter with deserts and things in a display case, so it may have been that, or perhaps they were getting a pizza.

This girl (woman, I should say) and I talked for a minute or two. And I, thinking of Derek Kirk Kim's Same Difference, made mention of Jordan. And how my expectations regarding women were forever screwed up by that movie, because it made me want a neurotic geeky girl who never slept and wore overalls and built ice-sleds out of deck chairs--

"And would follow you into the bathroom to talk at you and not understand why you couldn't pee!" she cut me off to agree, nodding vigorously. And I nodded back.

"Yeah. Totally screwed up my romantic expectations forever, wanting a girl to be like that," I agreed, grinning.

And this girl (woman, I should say) said something then which I didn't quite hear. I've been thinking about it ever since. I can never be certain, of course, but I think she said something along the lines of: "Yeah, I would." As in, 'yes, I would totally be like that.'

But I didn't quite hear her. And I blinked, in the way that you do when you don't quite hear someone and are experiencing cognitive dissonance. And I became aware that someone at my table was saying something, and my attention was diverted and I untwisted in my chair. And in that moment the soap bubble of this other conversation popped, because I had missed a beat, and suddenly this girl (woman, I should say) was embarrassedly apologizing for intruding on our conversation. And my tongue was not working as fast as my brain, because by the time the buffer had cleared and I tried to say something she had gone. Retreated back to her male friend by the counter.

So I turned back to the table. And already it was starting to itch at my brain. What exactly had she said? What cue, or opportunity, had I missed? I asked around about it, but no one else had heard what she said -- no one else had even been paying as close attention as me, I think -- and in the meantime, behind me, she and her friend had transacted whatever business they had and left. Eric made snarky comments about her wanting my junk and how I should totally go for it, and I floundered and played the straight man and objected that she was gone. And so the six of us sitting there got our food, and we ate, and the conversation moved on.

And after we paid the check and left and were out on the sidewalk, I faux-shouted at Eric about how it was bugging me, wondering what that girl (woman, I should say) had said. And he informed me, with a roguish smirk, that she was standing about a block up the street with that male friend of hers. I didn't turn, and I didn't look. I just felt my face get hot, and asked if we could cross the street quickly, grinning at what a total unobservant idiot I am. And Eric and I laughed as we all crossed the street and I made further loud comments about what a comedy of errors my romantic life is and always has been.

What has living in this city done to me? I'd like to think that the me from four years ago, the me going to college in Chicago, wouldn't have run away like that. That I was bolder than I am now, crazier, more willing to take risks. That I cared less about making an arse out myself in front of strangers. I think on my good days I cared not at all, and I was happier for it.

Upon reflection I feel so cowardly and anti-social. I passed up not one but two opportunities to talk to this girl. The first I can chalk up to bad timing, but the second was deliberate. I could have just walked up the street and introduced myself -- it might have been weird and crazy, but no more weird or crazy than she had been in talking to me initially. And I admire that sort of extroverted weird and crazy in geeks, at least in situations like these. But that never even occurred to me. Sure, I don't even remember whether or not she was particularly cute (its my impression that she was) and that may well have been her boyfriend she was hanging around with. It might have been nothing at all.

But now I'll never know.