Truth and Paper Airplane

Well, I went to work on Saturday, and for some reason, everyone in the town I work in decided they wanted to eat at Subway. So, we were swamped. Anyway, I worked my arse off, and as I was getting a drink after one of our big rushes, one of the guys I work with pulled me in one of the back rooms (not what you're thinking, I swear).

He told me that one of the women (old enough to be my mother) had been saying things about me behind my back and just wanted to let me know. It really pissed me off, not to mention I'd already been stressed because we were so busy. So, a little later he asked if I was okay and (like a fucking idiot) I said "Yeah. I'm fine. And after I get home and find a knife I'll be even better." I didn't expect him to hear anything other than the "I'm fine" bit, so when he came up to me and started trying to convince me not to cut anymore, I was a bit confused.

He's more of the goofing off, teasing type, so to have him be serious, and especially toward me was a bit unnerving. He said he would be pissed at me if I did go home and cut. He asked me what was wrong and why I was going to cut. I replied that I didn't know. The only time I've ever felt obligated to tell someone the truth about it is if I was talking to my cousin or my best friend, or the guys I've dated. So why do I feel like I owe him the truth?

Anyway, the new Alison Krauss and Union Station (AKUS) album Paper Airplane comes out tomorrow. I've been waiting for this for a month and I'm so excited. The title track is hauntingly beautiful and I have high expectations for the rest of the CD.

"Every silver lining always seems to have a cloud that comes my way. Love is hard to measure hidden in the rain, and that's why you'll find me here all alone and still wondering why, waiting inside for the cold to get colder. And here where it's clear that I've wasted my time, hoping to fly 'cause it's almost over now.

People come together, people go their own way. Love conquers few. And, I'll do whatever, I'll say what I need to say, just not for you. How many days should I smile with a frown, 'cause you're not around with the sun on your shoulders? And how many nights must I wake up alone and know in my soul that it's almost over now?"--Alison Krauss and Union Station, "Paper Airplane"