I think it's because of the way it captures that melancholy, alone-in-a-room-with-your-guitar, wailing-to-no-one-but-yourself feeling.

I have this strong urge to listen to nothing but old Delta blues and old bluegrass and stripped-down acoustic guitar with wailin' vocals.

The only two things I have that qualify are the Simon Joyner CD, and a tape of Robert Johnson "King of the Delta Blues Singers". Not bad, but I need more. More! More!

All in all, the weekend was good. We blew off friends in order to spend time alone, just the two of us. Saturday was the best--an outing to Evanston, which included early dinner at Hecky's and watching "Ghost World" in an actual movie theater. Neither of us could even remember the last time we went to a theater to see a movie. I just get too agitated with people when they talk during a movie. I once got in an loud-whisper argument with a woman who would not shut up. C. says I can't be trusted in public, but you know, if there weren't so damn many people in public, I'd be just fine.

Anyway, "Ghost World" was great. I loved it most when it was obvious that they were making an in-joke at the expense of the bland folk who inhabit most of the world. But then, they also made fun of the geeky folk too, and that was great too. And in spite of myself, I liked Thora Birch as Enid. I have always thought of myself as Enid (in looks as well as attitude), and others have backed me up on this, but I have to give Thora Birch props.

Um. I have to go to bed now. I'm just babbling anyway.

It just occured to me that I have told him that he is sweet not once, but twice. I didn't mean to be repetitive.