Voices Calling from a Yellow Road

Recently I've started to examine my musical taste as friends have invited me to concerts and lent me albums from (new to me) bands. Considering I haven't branched out significantly since my friends got me a Guster CD when I turned sixteen, it's about time. For me, the recurring theme is good lyrics. Songs with beautiful imagery, songs that tell stories - even if it's not poetry, I need to be able to sing along.

My sister and I used to send each other song lyrics quizzes when I was in high school and she was in grad school. One particularly memorable themed quiz was all drug-related songs, because earlier that summer I had ruined some of my mom's favorite classics (specifically "The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine" from The Graduate soundtrack - she accused me of smearing her innocent youth).

She thought the song was about a car. Not Ben Braddock's, though.

Souvenirs

Since moving to Chicago, I've found myself rationing bath products. I've been buying new shampoo and soap, but I can't quite seem to finish the bottle of Garnier Fructis shampoo/conditioner that I bought in Paros. I don't know whether it's for dry hair or added volume. The pictures on the label don't do much to explain the Greek beyond indicating that it's for your hair and should be used with water. Still, it sits on the edge of my tub and I can't throw it away.

All I really understood was "two in one."

Similarly, I can't get rid of the last bit of St. Ives scrub I picked up in Oxford. The label is probably the same as the US version, but there's a seal assuring me that it is the UK's favorite brand. (Any Brits want to confirm or deny this for me?)