a morbid new low

As Ben and I were cleaning the house for our next visitors (yay!), I found my little notepad of "things to tell people the next time I talk to them" and "inconsequential crap I could turn into a posting for my blog." I quickly scurried to the computer to try my hand at spinning this little gem into gold:

My new favorite song is called "Sanvean," a lush, haunting, religious-sounding wailer by Lisa Gerrard (formerly of Dead Can Dance) that I heard at the end of a particularly poignant West Wing. Of course I immediately looked it up on WestWingDorks.com, and bought the CD at Borders with the gift card my lone kiss-ass student gave me for Christmas. Since then, I've been drenching myself in its mournful, heart-stirring sounds....like ten times a day. It's a Tom Hanks with the aria in Philadelphia type moment. It's great, and is making me a better, more spiritual person, I'm sure.

ANYway. I'd been doing this in secret from Ben, 'cause I knew he'd make fun of me for a) liking such girly, Enya-ish music and b) buying a CD because one song was on a West Wing that made me cry. But one night I just had to listen to it while he was in the house. Feeling candid, I confided that this was a song I'd like to hear on my deathbed, if given the option. You know, like if I come down with consumption like Beth from Little Women and everyone gathers around to send me off into the white light.

I know, I should be committed for even thinking these things. But I can't help it! It's another itch I just have to scratch.

Here's why I love Ben. Instead of being deeply disturbed, or laughing in my face, he said:

"If I'm dying, I hope you play something really torturous, like 'Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time' by Paul McCartney, so I'll be grateful to die."

Then we sang it and danced around like fools. How did I get so lucky?