Jesse Rivest Music

I am not kidding - the very first cohesive thought I had this morning, in my groggy awakening state, was the following revised chorus for the song Blinded by the Light:

• I was rinded by the white; wrapped up like a Brie, another Camembert delight

How ridiculous! I believe that the word rind is normally a noun. The only verbal definition I found on dictionary.com was "to remove the rind". Yet this morning I brilliantly created a new verbal meaning: "to be enclosed in a rind".

Go ahead. Say it. It's not the first time I've said something a bit cheesy.

Infer whatever you fancy from this tidbit...

Last night was not surprising - it seemed familiar, really. It felt like a summarizing, if not typical, "evening out in Wellington" for me. I arrived at Bodega a bit early (music advertised for 9:00, but no one really shows up till 10:30 when the music actually starts) and sat alone with my pint for a long session of people watching. It was a young crowd and I was wearing my "IPood" tee-shirt, which garnered a bit of giggling and gazing, and the odd boyish comment. I was out to see a friend's band perform during university orientation week.

A jolly roundish girl advanced across the room towards me - she wanted a photo of her and I with my shirt. We posed and her friend captured the moment. I responded to her inquisitions; "No, when I chose this shirt, I wasn't thinking it would pick up all the girls." I was soon back to my beer.

At last, the music started. A tall Kiwi guy bopping beside me felt the urge to tell me, "You're looking really good tonight!" Thanks and a smile, and I bopped and dodged a little distance away from him. Neve and Deeps found me and we "danced it up" a bit - Neve from Italy, Deeps from New York. We became the Three Dancing Foreigners for the remainder of the first band's set.

During the band changing break I was approached by my new jolly acquaintance. Turns out she's from New York, too. We had a quick chat until I lost interest and she left to find her friends.

Ah, my friend's band started. A cute, smallish, Kiwi girl danced beside and in front of me for most of the set, which I found intriguing as there was more than sufficient surrounding space to warrant such proximity. In between songs I became friendly and asked her name. She looked at me with cinched lips and then decided to look away from me. I laughed and said, "It's just a name," to which she made ignoring efforts. So we kept dancing while I chuckled.

The attractive Kiwi girl against the wall with the table-cloth shirt made brief, smiling eye-contact with me several times, giggling with her friend each time afterwards. I regarded her as a mirage oasis; a trickle of roaming stags were drawn to her visibly fresh, watery surface, yet they all soon wandered disappointingly onwards in further pursuit of a guzzle. I chose to not adventure forward to determine if there actually was refreshing water at that location.

-- Back to http://www.jesserivest.com/

Countless times over the past few years I've read my own written words and found that I've used the wrong there. I just read my note from a few days ago, "She said their probably wouldn't be enough..." and the word their made me cringe with dismay.

These wrong theres pop up for me instantly - and quite regularly - so it's clear that I am quick to know the difference between there, their, and they're. However, I'm obviously quick to use the wrong word, unconsciously, when I'm writing fast! I guess I'm getting old? Or perhaps I had a difficult time differentiating these words when I was younger? I can't remember it being a problem...