This'll be the third night in a row I pull a seven a.m. quitting time.

But first, a [rant]:
I would just like to express my seething envy of the egalitarian distribution of singing parts within the Backstreet camp (at least their early stuff, which is what I know). I wish that Joey, Lance, and Chris were more than backup singers, that they were a band, not Justin Timberlake featuring JC Chasez and friends.
[/rant]

Being too tired does interesting things to your brain, a lot like being drunk or stoned, when you're convinced you can carry on normal functions until you actually try them and realize that maybe you can, but they're a little slurred and take more concentration than they should. I'm just typing here, awake and writing, and this interesting thing is beginning to happen, where I'm confusing my homophones (they're and their, sole and soul) and don't realize it until I've already typed the sentence. My eyes feel heavy but my head feels fine, so the fact of my fingers typing funny things doesn't quite compute.

MMC ended October of 1994, right? Does it boggle anyone else that by October 1996, they were already performing on German television shows? Didn't Justin say he had almost a year and a half to be a "normal" kid before he and Chris hooked up? *boggles some more* Also, can I just say how insane it is that there are people out there with camcorder footage of Justin and Lou at Universal recruiting Joey? How does this stuff exist? How did anyone ever get their hands on it? *probably taking boggling to unhealthy levels now*

Okay, so Joey is completely hammy and still as in love with partying and women and being raunchy as ever, even if it now entails unfortunate facial hair. Is anyone jumping his story about partying with Lance in the French Quarter, wasted on Hurricanes and not remembering anything after two-thirty? Because it doesn't get much more golden than that, kids.

*points to musical selection* If this is the sort of music we can expect from our man Chasez's solo career, I personally cannot wait. It's just such a fun song! Listen to the lyrics! So slinky and fun and completely JC. Have we all given Digital Get Down and Up Against the Wall the proper listen they richly deserve? (While we're on the topic, I'd just like to mention that all *NSYNC songs should be listened to at full volume on quality speakers at least once to hear all the sexy background stuff, new and German debut.) But if this is what we have to hope for in the future, I'm a happy, happy girl.

I wanna be your fantasy
and maybe you could be mine

Tell you a secret. I love to cry.

I think the one thing I truly resent about my father figures is that they made crying something shameful for me.

I love the absolutely freeing, cathartic elation that comes with being touched to your core by something that beautiful. I rarely cry when I'm in pain - usually, I'm too busy yelling at anyone and everyone around me to do something about making it stop already. Cruel injustice sets me off pretty quickly. Stolen opportunities, like brilliant, talented people dying young. Good triumphing over ultimate adversity. Sublime happiness. Perfection. The whole star-crossed lovers thing, that two people who live and breathe for each other can't be together, that gets me every time. I was inconsolable for a good ten minutes after Titanic, yes, let's move along.

This song.

This song made me cry the first time I saw RENT. More accurately, it opens the second act and I started crying midway through it, not stopping until well after the curtain call. It's a well-advised message to us all, but it specifically celebrates one person whose life, even though he is taken so young, was full and wonderful because he, above and beyond anything else, loved and was loved in return. He measured his life in that love, not the minutes of his workday ticking past, not in which cup of coffee he was on. And the reprise, when the cast line up and there's an empty spot where he should be standing next to Mark, I *ache* with the pain of it every time. Even now, when it happens to errantly come up on WinAmp, my reaction is instant and unconscious: I can feel the first three notes play all down my spine, already sensing the prickling in my nose imminent of tears, which are already making the corners of my eyes moist.

I love it every time. My first willful act is to smile and cherish every note as it taps something deeply primal within me. I don't hide my tears, and anyone who thinks they're a sign of weakness has never been touched in that space with which I find cause to truly pity them.