Friday confessional

I expect that you got excited there for a minute, didn't you? Thinking that "Friday Confessional" was going to be some new feature. Well, first of all, it should be pretty clear by now that this is a platform devoid of "features." Unless "I actually wrote something!" counts as a feature, which, for me, it does. Besides, there's a whole bunch of stuff that I'll never admit to you, so no. No regular confessions, but I have to get this off my chest. If you are in San Francisco, you might want to take a deep breath; this is probably going to upset you.

I like "Call Me, Maybe". Yes. I said it. Would I want it to be the only song I was able to hear for the rest of my life? No. But, if it comes on, I will turn up the radio in the car and I will sing along in a spirited fashion, especially relishing the part about "all the other boys try to chase me" a phenomenon of which I have no personal experience whatsoever. Partially, those Olympic swimmers really sealed it for me. Is there a more adorable girl in all the land than Missy Franklin? I think not. But even without Missy lip syncing in my mind, it's awfully catchy. If it comes on when I'm on my way to work, I arrive more cheerful than if it does not. So there.

Furthermore, I like "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together." That's right. I am a grown woman and I like "We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together." Indeed, I have more than one past relationship where I wish I would have arrived at that very conclusion much sooner. Was I in high school at the time?

You know what else? I have never heard of a great many of the bands who played Outside Lands this year. And, finally, I recently discovered that I don't like Yeasayer. I tried. I failed.

There. I feel better. Have a good weekend. I invite you to dance in your living room or sing along soulfully into your hairbrush to whatever secretly makes you smiley.